It's official. In a quiet and anti-climactic event we officially became a family. Our hearts have known this for a long time now. But... I still cried tears of joy.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Tomorrow
Tomorrow... tomorrow is going to be an awesome day! I have some beautiful boys I will be celebrating tomorrow.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Foster Adoption and My Extended Family
If you have read my blog for any length of time, then you are probably familiar with how I have adjusted to our specific foster to adopt experience. There was my Anticipation phase as we waited to be foster parents. There was Disillusionment as I realized what a difficult transition it was going to be for all of us. There was the Adapting phase as we learned how to be together combined with the start the Insecurity phase as I wondered if we would be separated from one another. Somewhere in the Insecurity period also came Unconsious Love, in spurts at first and then steady and sure as time progressed. As we head to our adoption date we seem to be entering a what appears to be the final stage of Belonging. They feel they belong with me and that they belong to me, I feel the same way. We are a family and we believe that will not be undone. Like a beautiful sunset we are leaving the fostering period behind and heading toward a beautiful new day as a family.
However, Fostering to Adopt does not just affect the immediate family unit. It affects the entire family. Our families have reacted very differently to all we have gone through to become adoptive parents and their reactions have very much impacted my own experience.
I will begin with my Mom. As some of you may know my Mom was adopted at 3 years old. During my anticipation phase she was proud that we would consider taking this step, but also cautionary. Her experience was not a beautiful adoption experience and although she loves her adoptive family it was not easy. She said repeatedly, "You need to make sure you can love someone else's children BEFORE you do this." Her caution grated my nerves. I already loved just about any kid I came across. I just wanted her to be excited for us.
Ryan's parents were concerned. They would not talk about it a lot. They believed 2 kids was plenty. They did not know why we would want more. I talked about the NEED for these children to have permanent homes. It seemed to fall on deaf ears. One of the first things my Mother-in-law said about our willingness to adopt more than one was, "Don't expect me to watch them." They were also concerned that we would adopt outside of our race. We had small, quiet discussions about how our adopted kids would feel to look different from us or from the community around them. They talked like they were worried about the kids, I felt they were only worried about themselves. I think they were hoping at this point that if we did this thing we would at least get white kids, but pretty much they were hoping we would not do this thing. Ryan and I knew we were going forward. The 2 of us talked at this point about protecting our future kids from negativity. Were we willing to step away from his family if their attitudes stayed where they were? Yes. We were willing.
My brothers and sisters were excited for me. They always KNEW I would do something like this they told me. If ANYONE could do it, I could, they told me. I loved talking with my sisters about my plans.
Ryan's brother said nothing, but then again. That is his personality. I guessed his feelings were similar to his parents, but I really have no idea. My sister-in-law was supportive, but she wondered out loud how the extended family would take it.
Before I continue I must say that no one struggled with Baby Zee. Zee came to us at 4 months old and had the instant love and acceptance of everyone. His personality was calm and happy. These next portions deal mostly with people's reactions to the dynamics with Obie and Chi who came to us at 23 and 33 months old.
During the Disillusionment phase My Mom was disillusioned as well. My boy's issues were not only grief from loss of family, the dynamics caused by the abuses they suffered led to behaviors that were frightening. Mom gave me permission to let them go, but she also supported my decision to hang on. She prayed with me for them by phone. She prayed over them when she came to see them. She prayed for a miracle in their minds and hearts.
My siblings were freaking out for me during the Disillusionment phase. They would attempt to be supportive, but they were scared of what forever looked like for me. One of my sisters told my Mom I did not even look like me anymore. I looked like some kind of worn out and old version of myself. Like my Mom they all worried what this was doing to me and to their niece and nephew. Everyone was worried about 5 year old Livvy. What would happen to her if the boys continued to react so intensely? Multiple times I was cautioned, "They are little now, but they are not going to stay little." My siblings prayed for my boys and they prayed for me. My siblings kept the boys at arm's length as they struggled to deal with their own dissappointment.
For the rest of the family we kept contact to a minimum during this time. We were walking through the hardest thing we had ever done in our entire lives and we did not want the weight of negative opinions. We did not know if we could or even should keep going. We struggled with wanting to quit every single day. We did not really talk about the horrible stuff with the more negative family members. When they called we kept things superficial and agreed, that yep, it was a huge adjustment, and joked about our crazy house.
During the Adapting phase Mom prayed for ME a lot. She was very concerned that this whole process was changing me into something unrecognizable. She saw my fatigue, she saw my grief, she saw my fear, and she saw my anger and she worried. My Mom is vocal about what she thinks so I know how she felt because she told me. During phone calls I spent time venting and also educating her on the reasons for their difficult behaviors and the steps we were taking to help them normalize. During this point she also began to get a new point of view on her own childhood. She wondered how difficult it must have been for her own parents to adopt two grieving toddlers without the support and education that I had available. I cannot understate how much she prayed for the boys and the rest of our family during this time.
During Adapting phase my siblings began to focus on giving me advice to help with the process. A lot of their advice I ignored. The advice was typical raising kids advice, but most of it could not even begin to touch the types of boundary issues we were struggling with and very little of it helped me deal with my internal struggle to adjust to the insanity, but I appreciated that they wanted to help make this work. I also spent time during this phase making sure I talked about this whole thing being a process of healing for the boys. I told them that parenting hurt children therapeutically can help them heal, even though I was questioning this myself. They also prayed for the boys and for me and my siblings worked to accept the boys and make them feel a part of the family through actions more than feelings, but it was a start. I saw that they struggled with their instincts on how to connect with a child and with respecting how I had asked them to connect with my kids. I did not get upset with their struggle because it was my own struggle during this time as well. My siblings behaved like they trusted that I knew what the boys needed. That was very affirming for me, especially when I did not trust myself.
As we began to Adapt we allowed some very limited contact with Ryan's family. The little bit of contact we did give Ryan's parents seemed to quickly overwhelm them. I read disapproval and stress into their stern faces and rigid posture around the boys. I ignored it and was happy that we all kept visits short.
It was especially hard because as we began to finally get some footing with our new family they began dropping hints that this was not something they wanted us to do. The hints got less and less subtle until Ryan's dad came right out and told Ryan he thought we were making a mistake. His Mom cornered me on one occasion and told me I should only adopt the baby. As they began to see our determination to remain a family emerge, they began to adapt as well. An important part of their adapting was a couple firm speeches from Ryan. He let them know that they would accept all of our family or they would not have any of us. We would not have the boys hurt by rejection. We backed off on visits and phone calls dramatically. When we finally visited I watched as they struggled to accept and adapt. I reminded Ryan to be patient with them. It began first with holding them awkwardly or trying to engage them boys' in conversations. They began to inquire politely about the boys during phone calls. When they sent gifts to Cy and Livvy they usually sent something small for the boys. They were trying.
With fostering the Insecurity phase is pretty much present the whole time. It looks differently at different points, but it is there constantly. My Mom walked through this with me. She talked with me so much during this process and we are so bonded, that she wanted what I wanted. The fear of loss, she experienced as well. We have similar personalities so she got mad, and sad, and prayerful just like I did. We both wanted the best for the boys and she also went through a different insecurity as she worried about her daughter's struggle. Who would I be if they stayed? Who would I be if I lost them? She never kept the boys at arms length in spite of her fears. She pulled them to her and worked on the actions of loving them.
The insecurity affected my siblings differently. My sisters had my heart. Protect the boys, protect the boys. protect the boys. They were mad when I was mad, the championed when I despaired, they feared the boys going back to that trauma for the boys' sakes, then they feared for my sake, and farther into the process they began to fear the pain of loss to themselves as well. We had long telephone conversations going over every single possible outcome and the horror of maybe losing them.
My brothers' were less involved in the day-to-day struggles. They didn't understand the process and early on they sometimes said things like, "Oh, so they aren't adopted yet?!" They were kind to the boys, but would focus on the fact that whatever happened was probably for the best. Their insecurity did not really begin to surface until the State filed for termination of parental rights. At that point there was something to gain and something to lose. They began to understand the magnitude of the process and worried about the outcome.
Ryan's parents were the most comfortable with the Insecurity phase. I think they felt this was the time where our minds could be changed or something could happen and the boys would go back. They would ask how things were going, but where my family would celebrate the milestones that kept us together Ryan's parents and brother were quiet. It wasn't until after the appeals court upheld Termination of Parental rights, that they began to show any signs of concern that the boys' weren't adopted yet. The boys had been with us for over 2 years at this point.
Most of my family believes that you practice love 1 Corinthians 13 style even before you feel it. Every single member of this family immediate and extended has practiced acting out this love even when they did not "feel" love for the boys. 1 Corinthians 13:4 - 8 " 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails."
What I am calling Unconscious Love is something different. It is the kind of mush that happens inside you when you look at someone and you are overcome for a moment with the beauty of their life. It is something you can feel, not just something you do. 1 Corinthians love is pure and can be practiced. Unconscious love comes easier when you practice the kind of pure love God calls us to, even when you don't feel it.
The Unconscious Love phase, which began at around 2 months for my immediate family for the older 2 boys was like starting a cold engine. It was just spits, coughs, and misfires at first. It takes time before the engine of love becomes smooth and automatic. The boys' behaviors were HARD so that made it harder to connect. I noticed that the extended family from my Mom through Ryan's family had varying degrees of lag time, but when the Unconscious Love phase hit them it was similar to our progression, just slower. Their love began to emerge in direct proportion to the amount of time they were able to spend with the boys. It made sense to me. We had been given the opportunity to connect and love them all day every day for a year before unconscious love for the older 2 began to get some real traction between the immediate family members. How much harder would it be for those who saw us so much less?
At this point in our journey nearly all of our family is either completely head over heals for our boys or they are at least in the beginnings of the Unconscious love phase.
The final stage I call the Belonging Stage. This weekend we celebrated Mother's Day at our home and all of my family and Ryan's Mom and Dad and Grandma were there. I can't exactly describe belonging, but I know what it looks like...
We take a family picture and my boys tuck themselves comfortably between Great Grandma and Great Grandpa while Ryan's Mom snaps a picture. My boys are not spinning and crazy. They are chatting up the Grandparents.
Ryan's Dad pulls Chi up beside him. They are discussing the merits of tractor rides and Super heroes.
My big brother plays trampoline games with all the kids. He scoops up Obie with the broken thumb and helps him "fly" through the air.
My aunt sneaks another cookie to Chi with a sly wink and Chi grins, but does not overstimulate.
Grandma lays against the couch to rest and Obie asks if she would hold him. He remains calm when he crawls into her arms and sits soaking up the rays of love like sunshine.
My sisters, perform the generational sign of female love in this family. They grab at my kids as they run by and tip them back to kiss their faces and pretend they taste like chicken. My boys receive this love without it sending them for an emotional loop and then run off to join the rest of the boys.
My brother pulls me aside. Tears in his eyes. "When I look at Obie and Chi it's like... They are like Cy to me you know?" Yeah. I know. "I feel like their ours now, You know?" Yeah. I know.
However, Fostering to Adopt does not just affect the immediate family unit. It affects the entire family. Our families have reacted very differently to all we have gone through to become adoptive parents and their reactions have very much impacted my own experience.
I will begin with my Mom. As some of you may know my Mom was adopted at 3 years old. During my anticipation phase she was proud that we would consider taking this step, but also cautionary. Her experience was not a beautiful adoption experience and although she loves her adoptive family it was not easy. She said repeatedly, "You need to make sure you can love someone else's children BEFORE you do this." Her caution grated my nerves. I already loved just about any kid I came across. I just wanted her to be excited for us.
Ryan's parents were concerned. They would not talk about it a lot. They believed 2 kids was plenty. They did not know why we would want more. I talked about the NEED for these children to have permanent homes. It seemed to fall on deaf ears. One of the first things my Mother-in-law said about our willingness to adopt more than one was, "Don't expect me to watch them." They were also concerned that we would adopt outside of our race. We had small, quiet discussions about how our adopted kids would feel to look different from us or from the community around them. They talked like they were worried about the kids, I felt they were only worried about themselves. I think they were hoping at this point that if we did this thing we would at least get white kids, but pretty much they were hoping we would not do this thing. Ryan and I knew we were going forward. The 2 of us talked at this point about protecting our future kids from negativity. Were we willing to step away from his family if their attitudes stayed where they were? Yes. We were willing.
My brothers and sisters were excited for me. They always KNEW I would do something like this they told me. If ANYONE could do it, I could, they told me. I loved talking with my sisters about my plans.
Ryan's brother said nothing, but then again. That is his personality. I guessed his feelings were similar to his parents, but I really have no idea. My sister-in-law was supportive, but she wondered out loud how the extended family would take it.
Before I continue I must say that no one struggled with Baby Zee. Zee came to us at 4 months old and had the instant love and acceptance of everyone. His personality was calm and happy. These next portions deal mostly with people's reactions to the dynamics with Obie and Chi who came to us at 23 and 33 months old.
During the Disillusionment phase My Mom was disillusioned as well. My boy's issues were not only grief from loss of family, the dynamics caused by the abuses they suffered led to behaviors that were frightening. Mom gave me permission to let them go, but she also supported my decision to hang on. She prayed with me for them by phone. She prayed over them when she came to see them. She prayed for a miracle in their minds and hearts.
My siblings were freaking out for me during the Disillusionment phase. They would attempt to be supportive, but they were scared of what forever looked like for me. One of my sisters told my Mom I did not even look like me anymore. I looked like some kind of worn out and old version of myself. Like my Mom they all worried what this was doing to me and to their niece and nephew. Everyone was worried about 5 year old Livvy. What would happen to her if the boys continued to react so intensely? Multiple times I was cautioned, "They are little now, but they are not going to stay little." My siblings prayed for my boys and they prayed for me. My siblings kept the boys at arm's length as they struggled to deal with their own dissappointment.
For the rest of the family we kept contact to a minimum during this time. We were walking through the hardest thing we had ever done in our entire lives and we did not want the weight of negative opinions. We did not know if we could or even should keep going. We struggled with wanting to quit every single day. We did not really talk about the horrible stuff with the more negative family members. When they called we kept things superficial and agreed, that yep, it was a huge adjustment, and joked about our crazy house.
During the Adapting phase Mom prayed for ME a lot. She was very concerned that this whole process was changing me into something unrecognizable. She saw my fatigue, she saw my grief, she saw my fear, and she saw my anger and she worried. My Mom is vocal about what she thinks so I know how she felt because she told me. During phone calls I spent time venting and also educating her on the reasons for their difficult behaviors and the steps we were taking to help them normalize. During this point she also began to get a new point of view on her own childhood. She wondered how difficult it must have been for her own parents to adopt two grieving toddlers without the support and education that I had available. I cannot understate how much she prayed for the boys and the rest of our family during this time.
During Adapting phase my siblings began to focus on giving me advice to help with the process. A lot of their advice I ignored. The advice was typical raising kids advice, but most of it could not even begin to touch the types of boundary issues we were struggling with and very little of it helped me deal with my internal struggle to adjust to the insanity, but I appreciated that they wanted to help make this work. I also spent time during this phase making sure I talked about this whole thing being a process of healing for the boys. I told them that parenting hurt children therapeutically can help them heal, even though I was questioning this myself. They also prayed for the boys and for me and my siblings worked to accept the boys and make them feel a part of the family through actions more than feelings, but it was a start. I saw that they struggled with their instincts on how to connect with a child and with respecting how I had asked them to connect with my kids. I did not get upset with their struggle because it was my own struggle during this time as well. My siblings behaved like they trusted that I knew what the boys needed. That was very affirming for me, especially when I did not trust myself.
As we began to Adapt we allowed some very limited contact with Ryan's family. The little bit of contact we did give Ryan's parents seemed to quickly overwhelm them. I read disapproval and stress into their stern faces and rigid posture around the boys. I ignored it and was happy that we all kept visits short.
It was especially hard because as we began to finally get some footing with our new family they began dropping hints that this was not something they wanted us to do. The hints got less and less subtle until Ryan's dad came right out and told Ryan he thought we were making a mistake. His Mom cornered me on one occasion and told me I should only adopt the baby. As they began to see our determination to remain a family emerge, they began to adapt as well. An important part of their adapting was a couple firm speeches from Ryan. He let them know that they would accept all of our family or they would not have any of us. We would not have the boys hurt by rejection. We backed off on visits and phone calls dramatically. When we finally visited I watched as they struggled to accept and adapt. I reminded Ryan to be patient with them. It began first with holding them awkwardly or trying to engage them boys' in conversations. They began to inquire politely about the boys during phone calls. When they sent gifts to Cy and Livvy they usually sent something small for the boys. They were trying.
With fostering the Insecurity phase is pretty much present the whole time. It looks differently at different points, but it is there constantly. My Mom walked through this with me. She talked with me so much during this process and we are so bonded, that she wanted what I wanted. The fear of loss, she experienced as well. We have similar personalities so she got mad, and sad, and prayerful just like I did. We both wanted the best for the boys and she also went through a different insecurity as she worried about her daughter's struggle. Who would I be if they stayed? Who would I be if I lost them? She never kept the boys at arms length in spite of her fears. She pulled them to her and worked on the actions of loving them.
The insecurity affected my siblings differently. My sisters had my heart. Protect the boys, protect the boys. protect the boys. They were mad when I was mad, the championed when I despaired, they feared the boys going back to that trauma for the boys' sakes, then they feared for my sake, and farther into the process they began to fear the pain of loss to themselves as well. We had long telephone conversations going over every single possible outcome and the horror of maybe losing them.
My brothers' were less involved in the day-to-day struggles. They didn't understand the process and early on they sometimes said things like, "Oh, so they aren't adopted yet?!" They were kind to the boys, but would focus on the fact that whatever happened was probably for the best. Their insecurity did not really begin to surface until the State filed for termination of parental rights. At that point there was something to gain and something to lose. They began to understand the magnitude of the process and worried about the outcome.
Ryan's parents were the most comfortable with the Insecurity phase. I think they felt this was the time where our minds could be changed or something could happen and the boys would go back. They would ask how things were going, but where my family would celebrate the milestones that kept us together Ryan's parents and brother were quiet. It wasn't until after the appeals court upheld Termination of Parental rights, that they began to show any signs of concern that the boys' weren't adopted yet. The boys had been with us for over 2 years at this point.
Most of my family believes that you practice love 1 Corinthians 13 style even before you feel it. Every single member of this family immediate and extended has practiced acting out this love even when they did not "feel" love for the boys. 1 Corinthians 13:4 - 8 " 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. 8 Love never fails."
What I am calling Unconscious Love is something different. It is the kind of mush that happens inside you when you look at someone and you are overcome for a moment with the beauty of their life. It is something you can feel, not just something you do. 1 Corinthians love is pure and can be practiced. Unconscious love comes easier when you practice the kind of pure love God calls us to, even when you don't feel it.
The Unconscious Love phase, which began at around 2 months for my immediate family for the older 2 boys was like starting a cold engine. It was just spits, coughs, and misfires at first. It takes time before the engine of love becomes smooth and automatic. The boys' behaviors were HARD so that made it harder to connect. I noticed that the extended family from my Mom through Ryan's family had varying degrees of lag time, but when the Unconscious Love phase hit them it was similar to our progression, just slower. Their love began to emerge in direct proportion to the amount of time they were able to spend with the boys. It made sense to me. We had been given the opportunity to connect and love them all day every day for a year before unconscious love for the older 2 began to get some real traction between the immediate family members. How much harder would it be for those who saw us so much less?
At this point in our journey nearly all of our family is either completely head over heals for our boys or they are at least in the beginnings of the Unconscious love phase.
The final stage I call the Belonging Stage. This weekend we celebrated Mother's Day at our home and all of my family and Ryan's Mom and Dad and Grandma were there. I can't exactly describe belonging, but I know what it looks like...
We take a family picture and my boys tuck themselves comfortably between Great Grandma and Great Grandpa while Ryan's Mom snaps a picture. My boys are not spinning and crazy. They are chatting up the Grandparents.
Ryan's Dad pulls Chi up beside him. They are discussing the merits of tractor rides and Super heroes.
My big brother plays trampoline games with all the kids. He scoops up Obie with the broken thumb and helps him "fly" through the air.
My aunt sneaks another cookie to Chi with a sly wink and Chi grins, but does not overstimulate.
Grandma lays against the couch to rest and Obie asks if she would hold him. He remains calm when he crawls into her arms and sits soaking up the rays of love like sunshine.
My sisters, perform the generational sign of female love in this family. They grab at my kids as they run by and tip them back to kiss their faces and pretend they taste like chicken. My boys receive this love without it sending them for an emotional loop and then run off to join the rest of the boys.
My brother pulls me aside. Tears in his eyes. "When I look at Obie and Chi it's like... They are like Cy to me you know?" Yeah. I know. "I feel like their ours now, You know?" Yeah. I know.
Monday, May 5, 2014
You WILL walk
I like those stories about people who defy the odds. I like when the underdog wins. I like it when someone says I can't because that means I will go out of my way to prove I can.
When we began this journey toward parenthood we defied the odds. My barren womb carried 2 children, my once empty arms have now been mother to 5.
We were told we should reconsider adopting. We were told we should reconsider adopting outside our race. We were told we should reconsider adopting more than 1. We continued forward in spite of those who said we could not or should not.
Early on the caseworkers, the therapists, family, and even friends have told me not to expect too much from "trauma babies." We were told, in essence, to set the bar low. We were given lots of information to parent "damaged" kids.
I personally have read about brain damage, parenting techniques, and my children's individual diagnosis. I have spoken ad nauseum with experts. I have used their ideas from time to time. I like to be informed. Smile.
Here is the real scoop on me. I identify with the Mama who is told her child will never walk and then goes about proving the doctors wrong. I know the disgust she carries inside at these people whose only goal seems to be helping her best accomodate the diagnosis. The intense and burning desire to prove them ALL wrong because her baby deserves someone to at least believe they have a shot. They deserve someone
Who will look them square in the face without pity and say, "You WILL walk."
This is the Mama that I am to all 5 of my children. They are all amazing, they are all capable, they are all overcomers. The spirit is available to each and every one of them, enabling them to walk in victory, not defeat. It is that spirit which will cause them to be more than conquerors.
My job is not damage control. My job is to coax, pull, push, prod, and demand until my children believe they can do more than crawl because their MAMA says they can! My children are proud of themselves and they should be, because I get on them like white on rice when they mess up and I help them be proud of themselves with every hurdle they triumph over. It is exhausting, emotionally messy, amazing work that I am seeing fruit from it all over the place. I know my children are capable, intelligent, and mighty, but my job is not done until they know it too.
All this time I have felt pulled to do things someone else's way. No more. This is MY way and I embrace it. I am constantly told by people that my children should not be doing as well as they are. I smile, but inside I know who my babies are and these people, these doubters, these naysayers... they ain't seen nothing yet.
When we began this journey toward parenthood we defied the odds. My barren womb carried 2 children, my once empty arms have now been mother to 5.
We were told we should reconsider adopting. We were told we should reconsider adopting outside our race. We were told we should reconsider adopting more than 1. We continued forward in spite of those who said we could not or should not.
Early on the caseworkers, the therapists, family, and even friends have told me not to expect too much from "trauma babies." We were told, in essence, to set the bar low. We were given lots of information to parent "damaged" kids.
I personally have read about brain damage, parenting techniques, and my children's individual diagnosis. I have spoken ad nauseum with experts. I have used their ideas from time to time. I like to be informed. Smile.
Here is the real scoop on me. I identify with the Mama who is told her child will never walk and then goes about proving the doctors wrong. I know the disgust she carries inside at these people whose only goal seems to be helping her best accomodate the diagnosis. The intense and burning desire to prove them ALL wrong because her baby deserves someone to at least believe they have a shot. They deserve someone
Who will look them square in the face without pity and say, "You WILL walk."
This is the Mama that I am to all 5 of my children. They are all amazing, they are all capable, they are all overcomers. The spirit is available to each and every one of them, enabling them to walk in victory, not defeat. It is that spirit which will cause them to be more than conquerors.
My job is not damage control. My job is to coax, pull, push, prod, and demand until my children believe they can do more than crawl because their MAMA says they can! My children are proud of themselves and they should be, because I get on them like white on rice when they mess up and I help them be proud of themselves with every hurdle they triumph over. It is exhausting, emotionally messy, amazing work that I am seeing fruit from it all over the place. I know my children are capable, intelligent, and mighty, but my job is not done until they know it too.
All this time I have felt pulled to do things someone else's way. No more. This is MY way and I embrace it. I am constantly told by people that my children should not be doing as well as they are. I smile, but inside I know who my babies are and these people, these doubters, these naysayers... they ain't seen nothing yet.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Update
We are settled in for the most part. My 3 little boys have gotten past the worst of their transition issues. Then the older 2 then started to grieve a bit for their friends.
We have all gone through a round of sickness and multiple visits from workers getting us all legal here as far as foster care goes.
During this time we also finalized the adoption paperwork. Our big day is May 29th!
Obie broke his thumb last night when he tried to pick up a big tractor tire and dropped it on his hand. We got to do lots of documenting because of foster care and additional paperwork because we just moved. Thank God nothing worse happened, but it just underscores how great it will be to reduce the extra steps we have to do as foster parents.
We have all gone through a round of sickness and multiple visits from workers getting us all legal here as far as foster care goes.
During this time we also finalized the adoption paperwork. Our big day is May 29th!
Obie broke his thumb last night when he tried to pick up a big tractor tire and dropped it on his hand. We got to do lots of documenting because of foster care and additional paperwork because we just moved. Thank God nothing worse happened, but it just underscores how great it will be to reduce the extra steps we have to do as foster parents.
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