painter-girl

Lucy, you worked for quite a while on your "job."  There was grunting and sighing--you wanted to make it clear that effort was being expended.  And then you plunked your "paintbrush" back in the pail and stood back to survey the wall you'd just "painted."   

You spread your arms wide and declared with a smile, "Ahh.  Sparkles everywhere."

I am so thankful to God for you and for your imagination!  I couldn't help but think that it's true. You are my sparkle-painter.  My days have so much more dazzle and shine because of you and all the joy you bring me!

 

snow days...

 

Abby dressed Lucy!

 

 

(Then Lucy wanted to return the favor!)

 

 

 

story time surprise

Lucy Joy!  You surprised me today!  We went to story time (we go fairly often).  You love it, and you like to play "story time lady" at home.  You pick out books and lead your audience (me) in silly songs and then read to me.  It's SO sweet.

Today, we went to story time, and you just hopped right up there next to Mrs. Suzanne and helped her lead story time!  I was so surprised, because you're usually a little shy around new people or in new situations.  You leaned in towards me and told me, "I'm helping!"  And you did! 

Here's a pic of you in action, and there is also a little video.  (It's no surprise to you that Mama had some technology problems with her phone, so your video is sideways and has no sound... but you can see you and Mrs. Suzanne really having fun leading "Do your ears hang low".)  I love seeing you having fun. 

I'm proud of you, Lucy Joy, for being such a sweet girl and such a big girl!  I'm always excited to see what thing you'll do next!  You make Mama so happy.

at the "rocket ship store"

You never know what a T.J. Maxx outing will become...

 

Check out those fast driving hands!

 

Driving a rocket ship is serious business.

story of a birth mother

The link is here, and it's worth the read.  It's a beautiful insight to the thoughts of a birth mother as she made the decision to give her child to another family.  I want to share this with Lucy when she's older so that she can see what great love lives in the heart of a birth mother.

My favorite parts:

"I believe there is only love in adoption.  Only love. Even if the birth mother can't say it or even see it; there is only love. Even if she can't understand it; giving the child a life is only love.   But I know my story isn't the only one that gets told this way...

 [After his birth]  "He was quite surely the most perfect thing I had ever seen in my entire life. I loved him with a bursting love. It took less than a moment to know that I wanted every single best thing in the world for him. That I wanted him to be safe, and loved, and happy, and blessed, and to know joy all the days of his life. It took less than a moment to know in the depths of my heart, and in every part of my being that I would give up my life for his to keep going. I wanted to give him every good thing. And I knew I was giving him the first good thing, and the best thing I could. A mom and a dad. A mom and a dad who were ready for him, ready to love him, ready to teach him. Ready to be parents, and not just kids themselves. 

"He was mine. And he was theirs. And there's no other way to say that or to elaborate on that...."

first foray into foster care

I've blogged through our first brief foster care experience (without posting) and it's coming to a close tomorrow.  I cleaned up some of my most awful moments, but I've left it pretty real.  I've always wanted this blog to advocate for adoption and now for foster care.  So here's the real deal (it's not short!)  Here's what our first foray into foster care was like...


foster care--thoughts right after I said yes
 I have a new daughter. 

For how long?  I don't know.
What's she like?  I don't know.
How old is she?  A month or so.
What's her name?  I don't know.

The last one is what got me.  The very helpful worker on the phone kept referring to her as "it".  Talking about how long it's been in care and when and where to drop it off...

She.  I kept thinking. 

She's a person, a new little person, with nobody.

I kept thinking of reasons why it wouldn't work.  This age range might be easier for me and that age range would be more fun for Lucy... And then I just thought, this isn't baby shopping.  This isn't even adoption, where you get a say in several things.  This is a child who needs a place to stay.  I thought, surely there's a better place more suited to care for her... and then the worker called again with a smidgeon more information and an air of unspoken desperation.  She didn't have a place, and he'd been calling all morning (he didn't pressure me, I just knew from his call hours earlier that he was going to keep calling anyone on the list).  I may not be perfect, and I may not even be very strong and tough yet, but I can feed her and keep her safe and snuggle and pray over her.  I can do these things, and it's enough.

I have a new daughter.  For now. 

I'll let you know her name just as soon as I find out :)


foster care--day 4
So. Many. Tears.

Not sappy, emotional tears about how sweet this little life is and how blessed I am to be a positive part of her life.

Nope.  Selfish, mad, sleepy tears. 

I'm sleep deprived.  Like any mother of a 4 week old.  But I'm not on maternity leave and I don't have a husband, so Lucy and I are toughing it out. And I'm kind of wondering why in heaven's name I thought this was a good idea.

I have cried on friends who ask how it's going.  I've cried into my pillow when Baby wouldn't stop crying at 10.  (Yes, 10.  My plan last night was to have everyone asleep by 7:30, including me, so that I could sleep and Baby wasn't down with that.)

I'm long past that hopeful, idealic, love-is-all-you-need, three cheers for Jesus post.  I'm in raw survival mode.  I calculate that it took 10 hours last night to get about 5.5 hours of sleep, so the other 4.5 were a desperate, hunger-games like battle to get Baby fed and burped and changed and settled.  I was not a nice person in my head for those 4.5 hours.  I was resentful.  I was cranky.  I was begging, pleading for her to suck that milk down a little faster so I could go back to sleep.

I've gone through stages:

Unfocused:  When we first got home and there were two little ones to get  in bed, things to bring in, and food to put away, and I wondered around partially doing all of these tasks and getting nothing done until Angel finally took over.
Euphoria:  When that tiny bundle just ate and slept and it was all so adorable.
Contact-buzz:  I keep the euphoria through the weekend because my friends were euphoric and I just fed off of their high.
Fear:  What have I gotten myself into?
Denial:  What baby crying?  I don't hear a baby crying?
Anger:  Why, baby?  Why won't you sleep?
Despair:  I'll never sleep again.  It will be literally months before I get a full night's sleep.
Exhibitionist (I had an audience of 2 for my shower this morning.  The crowd is growing!)

I'm not sure what current stage I'm in.  I vacillate between these tried and true ones.

Then I think:  4 days.  It has only. been. 4. days.

Pray for us, dear friends.  Whew.

foster care--pics

 

 

I can't show her sweet face, so I took these to show my helper-girl/big-sister.   She did such a great job.  (The last pic is her baby in a sweat-pant "sling".)

foster care--wrap up
Baby will leave to live with a relative tomorrow.

It's been a long and crazy two weeks.  And it's unbelievable that it's been only 2 weeks.

Pray for her and for this relative who is stepping up to take care of her.

There are lots of emotions around here:
--We're sad that she's leaving.
--I'm relieved that a full night's sleep is in the near future
--I'm wishing that I'd used the very short time with her better (i.e., not complained and cried so much...)
--I'm anxious about her future.   Will they be kind to her? 
--I'm angry/sad that such a sweet, tiny baby has so many cards stacked against her from the start.
--I'm angry/sad that she's the 3rd child in 3 years (who have all been removed from the original home).
--I'm angry/sad that her birth mother grew up in the foster care system and group homes, and now is obviously struggling to make a safe home (probably because she didn't get to experience one herself).
--I'm thankful that Lucy was so sweet and loving to Baby.
--I'm thankful that there is a system in place here, flawed as it may be, so that kids aren't on the streets.  (I've seen this several places.  It's indescribably awful).
--I'm thankful for all the support and love we got.  The first full day we had 11 visitors, little outfits, prayers, cake, fruit, pizza...  Our sitter was sick and my aunt and my sister-in-law took care of Baby for us (and my aunt even cleaned!).   It was really difficult, as a single working mom, even with all this support.  Kind of an eye-opener--what about all the people out there with crying babies and low-paying jobs and undependable childcare and no supports?  Which circles us right back around to:  Foster care is messy and hard, but it's a fix that is necessary to try to keep fragmented families (who probably have no supports) together.

God, we pray for Baby Z.  Give her family gobs of love for her and patience during those midnight feedings.  Help her to know she's special and loved, by you most of all.  Protect her from evil and make yourself known to her, through the kindness of believers around her.  Thank you for making such a precious little one. Amen.
 

snow day buddy

Praise the Lord for snow days!  Such a lovely perk of my profession.

First of all, to keep it real, I heard Lucy in her room for a few minutes playing at the end of her nap.  "Ahh," I thought, "I've finally arrived!  Independent play!!!" 

Then I went into her room and saw this:

So messy.   (So proud!)

 

Then, what with the recent nuptials, we had a wedding.  Or six.  Her little voice chirping, "A WEDding!" 

 

 



 



 New year and new goals--we exercised.  This was so funny!  I have always tried to squeeze it in after she goes to bed (ahem, when I actually try) but I thought that she would maybe enjoy doing an exercise video with me.  (She did!)

I absolutely cracked up, because she did everything I did.  I heard her, about half-way through, blowing her breath out like she was blowing bubbles in a straw... and then realized that's how I was breathing during the squats!  I started laughing, and then she started laughing, and we were both still trying to keep going and couldn't breathe--we got so tickled and it was awesome!  Then I heard her muttering under her breath, "Who can do that!?" (which I had thought several times but I didn't realize that I had said aloud) and the whole thing started again.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!