Today's thought

I have only left my house once in the last seven days. No, this isn't because I am depressed, or an introvert, or an agoraphobic (although land with no mountains does kind of freak me out). This is simply because I am a stay-at-home mom who hardly ever gets to stay home anymore. Another large factor would be that I drive a gas guzzling vehicle (which I absolutely love) that only has a quarter of a tank of gas, and I made a teeny error in my checkbook that the bank turned into a catastrophe with overdraft fees. No worries. We have plenty of groceries in the house and I actually enjoy being home. I'm not bored. For instance, it is barely 7:30 a.m. and my husband and three kids survived the morning chaos and are off to work and school. I noticed on the way down to the end of the driveway for bus pick up that our neighbors are back from Florida, and made a mental note to check in with them. I observed a young man drive down our hill in a much more respectable manor this morning than he did yesterday morning. As I was backing up the driveway after sending my kiddos off, I saw one of our neighbors whose children very often catch the bus at our stop if they missed it at their house, go racing up the hill after the bus. There is only one stop after our kids, so hopefully she made it and didn't have to take them all the way to town. My youngest cracked me up this morning and I sent our conversation in a text to my husband so he could enjoy. I sent a text to my aunt to invite her for 'Christmas' dinner tomorrow. (We only get my niece every other weekend, and we missed our Christmas visit) I moved the towering display of boxes containing decorations waiting anxiously to go back in the attic from in front of the washer and dryer since my poor son had to pick his cleanest pair of dirty pants to wear today. Then, as I was eating some homemade banana bread, I heard a cat wailing and realized I had shut her in the little laundry area. 

This is the best part of my day. Sometimes I use it to recover from the constant shouting of "Hurry up! Put your shoes on! You're going to miss the bus!" Other times, like today,  I can celebrate for surviving the morning without raising my voice and not having to chase the bus myself. My day can be whatever I make it. Today I am begrudgingly choosing laundry for obvious reasons, but hey, it's what I get paid for. Well, it's what I was hired for anyway. A mother's payment comes in different forms. 

I don't very often feel like a Proverbs 31 woman because I like to sleep in, my house is a mess, and I'm fairly certain my kids wouldn't call me blessed. I don't always speak with wisdom and I am pretty sure I will never plant a vineyard. However, this verse does apply to me:

~Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but 

a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised~

Proverbs 31:30

Connections

So, this weekend I realized someone once very important to me had lied to me. I had already hidden this person's posts from my news feed on Facebook, but when someone else's text prompted me to search this person out, I made the connection. I do not like being lied to. Watching a seemingly normal family fall to insecure, immature pieces over Facebook rants and posts is also not high on my list. So, I unconnected myself. I didn't close my Facebook account, but I deleted the app from my phone.

And, then immediately thought of posting this fact on Facebook. 

Good gracious.

All this was done while I was filling the tub for my 7 year old. 

Why, oh why? Who have I become?

I told my daughter that I did this and she told me "I'm glad, Mommy, because you look 

at your phone too much."

...ouch...

I told my husband and he told me he thought it was great because it's the last thing I look at before I go to bed, and the first thing I check in the morning.

I loath myself at this point.

My daughter will soon turn 13, and wants to have a Pinterest account, but I am pretty sure this is only cover to the fact that she actually wants a Facebook account. I need to be a good example in Social Media usage before I tell her "Absolutely not."

It has only been two days, but I am really feeling the difference already. My phone doesn't 'bing' all the time. I am not anxiously looking up from the sink full of dirty dishes to see if my little green light is flashing in the corner of my phone. I took a very silly picture of my mom today since we were shopping and it is her birthday. I assured her I wouldn't put it on Facebook. I didn't. I sent a picture text to my brother, who is in Alaska, and had a quick little conversation that made me smile. I connected with someone who is important to me without embarrassing my mom. 

Shocking.

Of course, my Facebook time will probably be replaced with Pinterest time. At least I won't be subject to someone airing their dirty laundry. Hopefully.

"In the same way,let your light sine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."

~Matthew 5:16~

It's ok

It's a loss not many people talk about. I have done web searches trying to reach out to someone who has been there. Finding someone is difficult. Asking someone to understand is nearly impossible.

 It is so unnatural. 

What kind of mother takes children into her home, nurses them when they are sick, hugs them when they are screaming out in frustration, covers them in kisses every night at bedtime and does all this while knowing that no matter how hard she tries to keep them safe, the phone could ring at any second with the news that she will be losing them? She then has to keep herself together enough to tell her husband, her biological children and any other foster children that will be staying. Then she has to walk over to the children she has had in her home for 22 months. The little girls who wore matching Christmas and Easter dresses with her own children. The kindergartener who came to her with a binky in her mouth and teeth rotted to the gum. The 2 year old that she first held as an infant who screamed for 5 months straight. She nearly wore paths in the floor trying to calm her. Every moment that felt impossible for the last two years has disappeared and this moment is the one that will haunt her. She has to say "Goodbye." 

This is what haunts me. The memories flood to me at random moments. Stealing my happiness and plunging my heart into a longing that will never be fulfilled. I want them back. I want my daughters home with me. 

This is the view down my driveway. Gorgeous, isn't it? The tree on the right is a shagbark hickory tree. I love it. God gives us true beauty all around. You probably can't imagine what happens to me when I look down this driveway. I hear the screams. The absolute blood curdling screams of my two babies.

               "Mommy, I don't want to go!" 
              
                 "Mommy come with me!"
             

             "Mooooooooommmmmmyyyyy!!!!!!




God gives me the strength to go on every day with these memories. I am slowly able to think more about the good times we had as a family. I can put their pictures on the wall. I want more children. I still want those girls back, but I feel my family is not complete yet. Their path did not lead them to stay with us permanently, but I truly believe God has a plan. 

If you are a foster parent who has lost children that you still count as yours, please find someone to talk to about it. A pastor, a fellow foster parent, a trusted friend. This grief is real. Talking will not make it go away. Many things may trigger a bad day. Don't feel guilty. Missing children and wanting more when you already have a beautiful family is a natural thing if you feel God has called you to this point. If I could get pregnant again, I would, but that doesn't have to mean my family is done. My husband says he wants to be like the Bullochs on the Bulloch Family Ranch, taking in children and then helping them survive out in the real world, but helping them if the need to come back. I'm all for that in the future, but right now, I still want littles. Little ones to keep. And then the guilt kicks in. As I pray for our future children, I know that that means those children will have gone through something horrific in order to land with us.

 The little boy that left us 7 weeks ago for his adoptive family has a fabulous new mom, but when he called me by my name instead of "Mom" it still felt like a knife in my chest. Yet, I still want to continue to foster these kids that need us. Without us, he would have ended up in a group home. Instead, he is in a great family, and our family has expanded by our joint effort to help him succeed. Fostering is not for everyone, but you don't have to be strong to do it. You DO need God, though. It is by His strength that we can do this. That doesn't mean it's easy, but it's possible. I pray that part of the plan is for our family to adopt, but we will have to wait and see. Patience is not a virtue that comes naturally to me.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me

Philippians 4:13

My toe hurts

I have become mainly a Facebook stalker. You know the type: they look at everyone's posts, but they never post anything themselves. This new outlook on social media pleases my husband. But, it makes me a little sad. Just a little bit, though. I guess I am one of those people that posted too many opinions. And not everyone agrees with me on all of those. Shocker! Today, if I was posting on Facebook, I would say something to this effect: 'Not only do you have to worry about stepping on the Legos, but there is a whole new realm of pain that comes from stepping through a completed project, realizing you are stepping on a treasured project, trying not to destroy it and by doing so, folding your big toe underfoot as you take your next step.' Um, ouch? This is what happened to me when my husband woke me up at "6:30" which is already late, and when I looked at the clock I realized it was, in fact, 6:37! Eek! Thankfully, we all made it out the door and they made the bus. Nine days of school left this year. Whew. My toes still hurts. 
    After all four of them get on the bus, it's back to the house for me to email the principal while cc'ing all three teachers that our foster son disrespected yesterday so they all knew that of he does it again, I am going to come sit next to him in class tomorrow. Won't that be fun? I sent a text my husband to make sure he knows that I did send the email and that my toes still hurts. (Are you sensing a theme?) Throw a load of laundry in the washing machine. Realize I never ate supper last night, so it's probably a good idea to have breakfast. What I really want for breakfast is something chocolate. Like texas sheetcake. Crushing disappointment follows when I realize I have no cocoa powder. Mental note to stop at our little country store when I take the day lillies to my aunt's house, but I have to unload everything out of my truck first and vacuum out the cargo area. So, instead, I sit down at the computer and decide to shop for shorts from my 12 year old daughter. I am normally a great Goodwill shopper, but she is short a few pair this year. ( I just made a funny...or not) I jump onto one of my favorite sites and check Ebay and and then back to another favorite site because they have free shipping. I am then irritated that on this page with the free shipping today the picture on the main girl's page is of three 9-year-old's posing for a selfie, and the one girl is holding her hands in this sideways peace sign arrangement. I don't get it. I never liked the peace sign thing when I was younger, and I certainly do not get the sideways peace sign. I was prepared to be upset about the length of the shorts. They do offer one or two long enough for my daughter to be comfortable. I wear shorter shorts than she does. I am not complaining, though. I applaud her for her modesty. 
     After seeing this, I decided I needed to express my opinion, and since there is no one here to talk to, I thought I would blog about it. Then I got sad again because there is no one here to talk to. This is my first year being alone because all the kids are in school. My thoughts wander back to last year at this time when I had eight kids in the house. It was c-r-a-z-y. But so much fun.
    Summer....it's almost here. 

~And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.~

Galatians 6:9

I honestly don't know how to start this blog post, so I'm just going to let the words fly off my finger tips (if I was talking to you, I would have said the words would fall out of my mouth). Here it goes: I get irritated when people don't seem to understand that being around a bunch of pregnant people or people that have babies would bother me. I'm not too old to have more kids, but due to medical reasons, I cannot. Yes, I have three children already. I'm sure someone out there just rolled their eyes. "Oh poor baby," you may think "she already has three kids and she wants more? How greedy! I can't even get pregnant with one!" Well, my darling sister, it doesn't hurt any less. My arms ache to hold a little one. My lips need to sooth a crying bundle. My ears need to hear the little noises. I have been there and tasted the sweetness of the love that comes from holding a precious gift.
    Now, before you think badly about me, I do love my kids. My oldest is 12 now (gulp) and although I secretly dreaded it, her growing up is so much fun! She is smart and beautiful and excels at every single thing she does! It is a blast to wonder what she might do with her life now that she is coming into the person she will choose to be. I love watching her walk with God bravely and unashamedly. My son is 10 and possibly moodier than his older sister. He is growing like a weed and this year shot his first buck to bring home venison to feed our family. He looks different to me somehow. More grown up, closer to being a man. My youngest, is still little enough at 7 that she still needs Mommy and Daddy. She still loves to snuggle and is tiny-major bonus!
    I have never suffered a miscarriage, but I have lost babies. I have never had to cry over the unknown and wonder why God chose to keep that baby from me. I don't have babies in heaven that I count. I cannot even imagine the pain that would cause. The struggle your entire family would go through. The pain in your husband's eyes as he tried to be strong. The overwhelming emptiness that must follow is, I'm sure, too vast for understanding. If you have suffered a miscarriage. I am so sorry. If you have tried and never gotten pregnant, I only wish you well. Your pain is something I'm not sure I could endure.
     What I do have to endure is the memories of when I did have my babies. The giggle of the 6 year old that is only a haunting memory. The way the toddler would suck down a juice box faster than I could get my coat off and then take off running saying "Mommy, catch me!" The birthdays and Christmases we shared. Learning to ride a bike, learning to walk, the first day of school, losing her first tooth, the family camping trips, the church plays. All of these good times seem a little tainted now. I don't have the pain of the unknown, I have flashbacks to the day they were literally pulled from my arms and I have to hear their screams as the van drove off. I replay the moment when I laid my hand on their hearts and said "I love you, but Jesus loves you more and he is right here in your heart. You remember that." I watch my other kids as they find something in the house belonging to the girls and I see in their eyes the longing they have to just be able to hand it to them. The words "Mommy, come with me!" echo in my head as I look out into the driveway. 
     Sympathy only comes for so long after you lose a foster child. I appear to be strong because while there are other moms that have had miscarriages that can support each other, there are very few that can relate to what I am gong through. I cry by myself and each time I fall to the floor sobbing, I promise myself I am cried out and I won't have to do this again. Over and over I have promised myself that. I still catch myself looking at the size 3T clothing at the store, because in my heart, they are still with me. I try so hard to smile when I talk about them for the sake of my other kids. I want them to associate good memories with the girls, not the paralyzing grief that happens to me. So while I sat in my Sunday School class room yesterday with three pregnant moms, all my energy went into being happy for them instead of the thoughts that wanted to squeeze in. I spend almost the whole hour planning my major cry session. I didn't expect anything different from the ladies, and I am truly happy for them. Two of them are my cousins, so another baby (or two) in the family is a blessing.
     I am quite sure I am over wanting to be pregnant again. I just want more babies in the house that fit as well as these two girls did. I want to complete my family with adoption and still be able to help other foster kids. I want to be able to grieve openly. I don't think this is too much to ask. 

~Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me~

Mark 9:37

Pinterest. Pinterest. Pinterest. Hello, my name is Jennifer and I am addicted to Pinterest. Anyone else? Show of hands. I would go right now to look on my Pinterest page to be able to tell you how many Pins I have, but it would be like "squirrel!" and before you know it I would be pinning things about shoeing a giraffe. Just because. I get on there to look for a recipe or a quilt pattern with the best of intentions and two hours later, we're all still hungry and the only thing keeping my warm is the heat from the laptop on my legs. I even have the Pinterest app on my phone, so any time a person repins one of my pins, I get a notification, and don't you know it, I will click on the notification just to see which pin the unknown person liked! How sad is that? But, there is an upside to Pinterest. My kids' Christmas gifts were definitely supplemented with projects that I saw on Pinterest. 

Christmas morning 2015, 4 kids in the house

Please ignore the 'Totally Gross' game in the middle of the picture. this was a donated gift for our foster son. The doll bunk beds we made after hours of looking at tutorials online. The mattresses and quilts I just banged out in a couple afternoons. The 1960's wooden doll high chair was a major score at Goodwill. I replaced the cushions and ruffles, wiped it down and called it good. The barn shaped shelf was made for my daughter's Bryer Stablemate horses. The coffee table was just that-a coffee table from Goodwill, that I turned into a lego building table for my son, and the Ford truck grill on top of it, will hang on his bedroom wall for matchbox cars. So, Pinterest isn't all bad. we downsized our Christmas in a huge way this year, but the kids didn't notice, or didn;t complain if they did. 

    This week we are having some financial struggles since even after cutting down on Christmas, the weeks following are tight. So, I got out a pack of ground venison and hit the Pinterest boards. I found a fabulous recipe for venison burgers. I'm not normally a fan of venison burger. Venison? Yes. Burger? not so much. However, this was my son's first buck and he was really insisting we have burgers. Since he was bringing home food to feed the family at age 9, the least I could do was indulge his supper request. The recipe I used was titled "The Best Venison Burger Around" and included seasonings and bacon. Bacon rocks, so I might as well give it a go. One problem...no hamburger buns. No bread, wither. I had tortillas, but I was fairly certain the hubster would not approve. So, back to the boards. I stayed somewhat focused this time, covering my eyes when visions of quilted pillows and cross stitched ornaments showed up, and went in search for a hamburger bun. I was trying to block out the last time I tried to make them and finally realized it was no use. If the burgers failed it couldn't be because of the buns. Then, I had a light bulb moment. Pretzel Buns! A few minutes of research later landed me to a pretty straightforward recipe and I started mixing ingredients. The result? Oh.my.cheeseburger. I see these in my future a lot! And, they were essentially free. Of course, my husband will argue that getting venison for our family is a lot of work, we process it ourselves and he enjoys hunting with our son and friends, so the price is minimal. And I had all the other ingredients on hand. So, supper that night looked like this.

  Now, please forgive the fact that the top of my bun looks like a crown. Instead of slicing it with a knife, I cut it with kitchen shears. Won't be making that mistake again. We added bacon and Amish butter cheese to finish off the burger. A little yellow mustard and that first bite was beyond explanation. And now, it is time to figure out what to fix for supper tonight. Or breakfast. Or camping ideas. Or hair braids. Or closet organization...

If you're at all interested in my crazy ping pong squirrel chasing thoughts while I am on Pinterest. Follow me here.

 ~and to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: you should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you~

1 Thessalonians 4:11

Does your husband ever surprise you? Not with flowers or candy, but in the way he reacts to something ? Mine does. A lot recently, actually. We are going through a very tough time in our house right now, and I am trying to be strong, but those few moments that I waiver and try to hide it from him, he shocks me completely by saying something I needed to hear or just by holding me. We are not newlyweds here. We have been married for 15 years. We were together for 7 years before that. We started dating when I was 14 and he was 16. So we've pretty much grown up together. I've been with him for the last 22 years and every day is still unpredictable. How is that possible? Every morning he gets up with the sound of his alarm ringing, shakes me as he heads for the shower. He gets dressed, brushes his teeth and then puts his socks on and makes the rounds to say goodbye to the kids. I even now how he will give the gas petal a little flutter as he goes down the driveway. He comes home from work and says "hello kiddos" as he takes his wallet, keys and change and lays them in the basket while pulling his belt off. He pours himself a glass of milk before bedtime and takes his socks off before we go up the stairs together at night. I know him. But then, there will be a moment when he will react to something and I will think "who are you?" Not in a bad way, but just in a where-did-that-come-from kind of way. It's pretty awesome actually. As he was listening to another one of my 'I should do this and try to make some money' ideas, he just said "honey, there are a lot of things you want to do." He didn't insist I pick one, didn't tell me to just do something, anything as long as i stopped talking about it, which of course, is probably what I would be thinking if it was reversed. What a great guy. No wonder I love him. And I love marriage. 

~Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord. Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them~

Colossians 3:18-19.