Their Pace

Lots of life moves quickly. There are commitments. Responsibilities. The world does not stop to wait for us.

I am trying to teach Big Brother A this. He does not believe me.

I love the idea of allowing our children to live life unrushed. It sounds so sentimental and sweet to say that children need time to explore and should never be told to hurry up. It totally sounds like the kind of parent I want to be.

But I've met my kids. It's not happening.

Grownups need to learn how to live life unrushed. We're always on the move. We're always thinking about the next thing we need to do. There are expectations on our lives. We're always on the clock because we're nearly always reachable through technology.

Children don't need to be taught how to move slowly (I'm talking about life's pace, not rate-at-which-they-tear-apart-the-whole-living-room; we're working on slowing that one down). They get it. They're wonderfully good at taking in the surroundings. Big Brother A points out beautiful ceilings in places I've never looked up. We see rainbows everywhere. Pretty leaves on the ground. Trucks on the road. Big Brother is taking in everything.

Everything except the urgency behind my requests as we're trying to get out the door. My over-the-top requests, like "please accomplish your 1.5-minute tooth-brushing routine within the next 10 minutes."

So I teach my children to hurry. They need to learn efficiency and focus. They need to learn that getting my tasks done quickly gives me lots of time to enjoy in whatever way I choose later.

And sometimes, when my Google calendar reminder says "You have no events scheduled today" and Big Brother A takes less than an hour to eat, I let my kids teach me how to take life slowly.

Fall is a perfect time for that. There are amazing details everywhere, and little children are amazing guides when it comes to exploring outside.

So today we explored our world. Well, we explored a very small chunk of it at a very slow pace. It was lovely.

Because we had such a fun time and in case you didn't have a 4-year-old tour guide today, here's a little piece of our world through the eyes of Big Brother A and Baby S (who is clearly a toddler now, but for sake of consistency, I suppose he's stuck with that name).

This is a giant bug Big Bro found. We're guessing queen ant. I would never have noticed this thing on the huge parking lot we were crossing, but he spotted it right away. Kids are awesome like that!

We took the long way home. And then backtracked to find Baby S's boot. And then took the short way back. So we covered it all.

Big Brother A collecting all the different kinds of leaves he can find so that he can make a tree guide book.

A ladybug that was going to be his pet forever. It flew away. He moved on. He also got over the lost friendship with the slug that was living on his bucket for the first half of the walk.

I love how brave this boy is getting. He used to need me next to him, but he's off having his own adventures now while I help Baby S learn to navigate the playground. Pretty soon neither of them will need me to hover. I love watching them play!

When Things Need to Change

I like to be nice to be people. I like to be helpful. I want to be kind. I want to come off as loving and caring and flexible. I want to serve others and help them feel appreciated.

I want to be present for my family. I want to have energy for my kids. I want to truly care about the things my family cares about and listen with a smile and full eye contact that says this conversation matters.

Sometimes it's hard to do all of this at once. Sometimes it feels like there's nothing left for my family after I've met all of the demands of the world outside our home. Sometimes, once I've given a little, people don't even ask for a "yes" or a "no"; they just tell me what I'm going to do for them. Sometimes people outside my home start controlling my life and my decisions.

Sometimes it feels like there's nothing left for the rest of the world once I've met the needs of my family. Sometimes it seems like there's not enough time in the day to keep everyone clean, dressed, fed, organized, and shuttled to all necessary locations. Being responsible for the physical, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing of my home is a big job and it can leave me feeling drained and unable to reach out to others outside of my home.

Maybe you've felt this way before. Sometimes it's appropriate to have an internal focus or an external focus for a time. For me, it can be hard to realize that the time for a skewed focus has passed, and that I have crossed into unhealthy living. I don't always detect the slow progress toward letting my actions be controlled, rather than deciding what I will do with my life and my time. Eventually, life becomes too out of control to ignore that things need to change.

Like this week.

I've felt like foster care controls my life for a while now. Things have gotten speedily more difficult in the last few weeks. I'm sure part of that had to do with being a single parent for 13 days while Josh was in Chad, but I think it's mostly to do with some changes in the needs of Baby S's birth family in the last couple of weeks. Instead of "would you guys be willing to..." things have become "here's the way your day is going to go regardless of your plans or needs." Instead of "in case of emergency we know you're willing to..." it is suddenly "every time something needs to change we'll assume you'll do it." And this is not just birth parent. We've just become the go-to solution.

I get why it happened. We've tried to be helpful. Our case worker is extremely understanding and communicative and we love her and want to make things as easy for her as possible. She's overworked, stressed, and coming up against the same broken system sending kids back to awful situations as we are.

So a few "yeses" to the case worker, and some flexibility for birth family, and all of a sudden we're constantly on call. Early pickups and late deliveries. Canceled visits. Indecisiveness that leaves me glued to an hours-long back-and-forth on my phone with no ability to plan a day for myself and my kids. And more. All resulting in a lot of anger and frustration simmering inside as plan after plan gets wrecked.

Last week, I found myself so worn out by constantly being on call that I broke down. I'm thankful my sister was there to help me pick up the pieces so I could get it back together. But it was a clear sign : things are out of hand. I need to build some walls. I'm all out of giving and I need a way to get some back.

Part of me always cringes at the idea of "boundaries". It seems a lot like drawing lines around my generosity. At refusing flexibility. At putting myself first. At a "no" that will make a lot of work for someone else. But if I don't start now, I'm going to find myself saying no to all of it after Baby S leaves. If there's not a way to be a foster parent AND have a healthy family (nah, let's set the bar lower - let's set the AND at mental stability), then foster parenting will have to go. That's not what I want. That's not what my case worker wants. My family had - has - a passion for this. And there has to be a way to do this without letting it control every part of me.

I don't want to put me first in an "I'm entitled to me time" kind of way. However, I can't pour and pour and pour myself out without allowing myself to refill with the God-given refreshers that God has built into me. I feel my effectiveness lessening. God hasn't called me to foster care so I can be stressed, sad, angry, and ineffective. Craving effectiveness is not selfishness.

Just deciding to fix this won't get me anywhere. So I'm working on some concrete goals. Right now, those look like writing regularly (this is like a mental health thing for me, guys; when I'm not posting it's because I don't agree with myself for more than five straight hours), going to the gym regularly, and spending one-on-one time with Big Brother A while ignoring all texts and phone calls. They can wait. Seriously. I cannot be Plan A Solution for everybody all the time. And I can't pull Big Brother A through foster care without having a good pulse on how it's effecting him and open communication to help him process it.

We need these moments to be off-the-grid. But this one was spent waiting for my day's schedule to be finally decided on.

That can't be the norm any longer.

I'm empty. All my best attempts at refilling are getting thwarted, while the demands are increasing. Sometimes God calls me to rely on him when I'm empty and he rewards that dependence. But/and he's given me tools and wisdom for staying healthy (spiritually, emotionally, physically) that cannot be neglected for the long term.

I've got to reprocess, both internally and externally. My service is next to worthless when my heart isn't there. My hands aren't doing good work when my mind is moaning and complaining and struggling through it all. I want to serve so people see God's love in me, but I don't feel loving when every good thing in my day is stolen away. I feel resentful.

I'm going to take a step back and fight for the necessary ability to refill. To have control over my schedule. To be healthy enough to be able to be flexible AND say no. Not for me. Not JUST for me. But for effectiveness. To be God's hands and feet and see lives change. I need to do some work to get back to that place.

If you're in this situation with me, I'm praying for you. I know we're all here sometimes. You and I aren't alone. We don't have to stay here, though. Let's make some changes so we can be what God calls us to be. Let's remember why we allowed our balance to become off and seek out godly ways to recover our balance and use our passions to serve our homes and our communities.

God always gives us the power to do the next right thing. We can fight for internal restoration AND external effectiveness.

Let's do this.

It Makes All The Difference

This morning was our second morning into Baby S's first four-day weekend away from home. We won't see him again until Monday.

I thought church without Baby for the first time would be a dramatic and sad thing. But it wasn't at all what I pictured.

It wasn't what I pictured, because I am part of a church that is more than just a bunch of people showing up to check off "listened to a sermon" from their weekly chore list. I'm surrounded by people who love Jesus and love people. I'm surrounded by people who care. I'm surrounded by people who really mean it when they say "I've been praying for you guys."

I'm surrounded by people who have never hesitated to pour deeply into Baby S. I'm surrounded by people who really do understand what we are going through, because they've allowed themselves to love him deeply and are now journeying through his return alongside us.

I'm surrounded by people who work with kids and families every day of the week through many different roles, fighting for healing in the homes in our neighborhoods and in our city.

I can't fully express how amazing it is to be part of a church that is not a building where a bunch of people meet, but rather, a family of people living and growing together every day of the week (who happen to have a dedicated meeting space).

If you're not part of something like this, please consider it. If you've only known church to be a place for the good people, try again. There is something incredible about a group of broken people loving Jesus together. Something amazing about a family that cares so deeply that I barely went five minutes at a time this morning without a hug, an "I'm praying," and an acknowledgement that my little guy was missed today.

Church is why I can do this and know I'll make it through. God's people are the reason I know it will be okay.

If you don't have people like that in your life, I'll gladly share some of mine. They're a pretty awesome crowd and I know they'd love to meet you.

Just An Update

It's been a while since I've consistently posted. Here's an update on our wonderful, crazy summer.

This summer has been so BUSY! So many very good things have contributed to that busyness. We traveled to see Josh's family, spent a week at camp together as a family of four, and traveled to see my mom's side of the family. We had visits from my mom and sister and a very small but very sweet celebration of the day we met Baby S one year ago.

There's so much beauty in traveling for our family. We are thankful that Birth Parent allows Baby S to go with us and works with us to make up visits he misses when we are gone. When we travel, we have the amazing opportunity to feel like a normal family. No visits. No texts needing immediate response. No (or, at least, few) calls about foster care. No appointments. Sometimes, we don't even have access to email! It's wonderful. I feel like I so often get thrown off track because so much of foster care is putting my day on hold to help get things back under control, because the drama pops up out of nowhere and suddenly there's some information or appointment urgently needed from me. It's like my train of thought is constantly derailed, and it leaves me feeling drained and fighting stress levels. So being "off the grid" for much of the month was amazing!

Another highlight of traveling is that people don't even know we're a foster family. They can't tell that Baby S isn't a bio family member, so they don't even think to ask. There's no being brought into conversations about his birth parent, his history, or any of the (approximately) thousand-and-one dramas going on at any given time. People just treat us like family. They treat Big Brother A like a normal big brother, and ask him normal big brother questions. They treat Baby S like a normal baby-turning-toddler and ooh and aah over his cute little tricks without feeling sorry for him or making assumptions about his future. We're allowed to express joy and love and happiness without questions about how we're going to handle the pain of losing our child if he leaves us some day.

We love positive interactions about foster care. We absolutely love having honest conversations about the ups and downs of life as a foster family. We hope it encourages someone, someday, to take a next step they've been considering. But it's also lovely, sometimes, to not feel like a foster family at all.

We just get to be family. A crazy, busy, joy-filled, always-running-after-the-toddler family, enjoying the normalcy of being exhausted simply because parenting is good and hard and tiring!

Some of my favorite moments are when my two little boys are playing together, full of giggles and adventure (and even a little bit of mischief!), just being brothers.

So that was awesome. The unfortunate result is that all of the normal requirements and drama and chores and meetings had to fit into the windows we were home. Make-up visits had to be scheduled, and the already-flaky driving service for Baby S gets extra-super-flaky when it's not a normally scheduled time.

It's hard to feel overwhelmed right after a vacation - to already have that fleeting thought of "if I could just get a break!" and realize that no length of break will ever solve things. It's having to realize that this is life, and buckle down and pray for the energy every day to have a positive attitude even when a look at the day's agenda is daunting, and things keep popping up to make the day crazier, as they often do.

During this last month, there's also been some pretty emotionally draining back and forth involving Baby S's case. He was supposed to be completely through his transition back to Birth Parent by the end of September. This was a hard truth, but something we were ready for, since we've known it's coming for months. Then there was a set-back, and we were told he wouldn't be taking any steps forward toward more hours at Parent's house until the end of September. So we absorbed that information, and changed our thoughts and plans. And then this week, we've been told suddenly that his overnights will possibly be starting in a week! Although nothing is changing until the end of September, everything is changing before the end of August, and with only a week's notice. It's very frustrating and VERY confusing! The inability to ready our hearts and calendars for this major transition is very tiring and weighs heavily on us.

So we haven't reached out to sweet friends and neighbors very much this summer. We haven't done a lot of play dates or cookouts. We've been out of town a lot, and when we were home, we had so much make-up to do that we've felt almost nonstop busy. And although I want to get into a rhythm of playdates and outings with friends and all the fun, sweet things stay-at-home moms sometimes do, I don't think this will realistically be my reality at this stage in our journey. As much as I want to do dinners with other families and adventures with friends in the evenings, this, too, has to sometimes take a backseat - for now. Baby S comes back from day-long visits exhausted and needs time to catch up on sleep when he's home. Evening family time is especially precious since one of Baby S's long visit days is also Josh's day off.

Family time isn't selfish, it's a necessity, and for us there's a ticking clock to each day and week together as a family of four. We put stability and togetherness on a high pedestal in our home, because we long to fill Baby S up with all the love he can hold before he goes back to Birth Parent, both for his sake and for ours. (That doesn't mean we don't serve, by the way. We also place a high priority on serving others and especially serving through Northridge. It means that, when possible, we find ways to serve together.)

Thanks for the prayers. Thanks for checking in on us, and loving on us, and giving the boys high fives and hellos when you see them!

Happy summer!

One Year With Baby S

Today is the one year anniversary of our little Baby S's arrival in our family.

Baby S was our third placement. We had quick goodbyes with the other two babies - quick, but not easy.

When Baby S arrived, I was pretty convinced that every placement was going to be short-term. It seemed like we would never reach a new normal. It seemed like things were going to be constantly changing. (Which, by the way, is pretty accurate, even with a long-term placement. Things barely settle into a normal before they are changed again, often suddenly and outside of our control. Such is foster care!)

Still, Josh and I found that we were able to bond with Baby S despite the uncertainty. He was able to bond with us, too, after a lot of prayer, hard work, and tears. He had to learn how to love us and he had to learn how to let us love him. He learned how to be nurtured and snuggled and hugged. He learned it well and he is now a beautiful, joyful, BUSY toddler!

I don't know if Baby S has changed drastically since his arrival or if he's just become able to be the happy, determined, enthusiastic person he always should have been. He's an amazing little guy. We're so proud of him!

In the last year, I've learned that it was okay to mourn our other two babies, despite their short placement. I've learned that I have as much right to mourn Baby S if he leaves today as I will two years from now. I've learned that a child's age and length of stay do not determine how long I'm allowed to miss my child after they go. I've learned that the potential for a forever family member is an equal loss no matter how long the stay. I hope this will help me to process and cope the next time I have a short-term placement.

I've learned that it's possible to work with birth families. I've learned that it's incredibly rewarding and incredibly difficult, sometimes in turns but often both at once. I've learned that I still have some growing to do in creating and sticking to healthy boundaries. I've grown a little more confident in my role as a foster mom and in my ability to speak on Baby S's behalf, even if my voice isn't heard. I've learned that I can and should advocate, even when no one is asking, in case someone eventually listens.

I've learned a lot about poverty. I've learned that it goes way beyond just money. Poverty is not having the transportation to get to high-quality food, not just the inability to buy it. Poverty is never having been taught how to feed your child healthy foods, not just the lack of money to purchase good things for them to eat. It's a mindset. It's an upbringing. It's a lack of information and a confusing muddle of misinformation. It's a cycle that is difficult to escape. It's trying to help people and realizing you've enabled them, or trying to keep from enabling and realizing you've missed a God-sent opportunity. It's messy.

I was thinking about all that I've learned in the last year and almost all of it revolves around my role as a foster mom. I don't know what the last year would have been like without foster care. A lot of the pain of the past year was a direct result of foster care. A lot of the busyness was because of foster care. A lot of the tough issues with Baby S were because of his struggles as part of the system. Foster care has changed everything. Love hurts more than it ever has before.

But this difficulty and pain and sadness cannot help but result in growth. I'm stronger than I was a year ago. I'm learning to find joy in every circumstance. I'm learning to love God more now that some of the people I love most are no longer permanent fixtures in my life. I'm learning to depend on God for my future more as the amount of control I feel over my life lessens.

I wouldn't trade the last year for a year of wholeness as a family of three, or even for a year of joy welcoming a second forever-baby into our home. I don't say that lightly. Every day is a struggle as I learn and relearn how to trust and have joy and obey God even when my circumstances - well - stink.

I wouldn't trade what I've learned about God or the amount of growth I've seen in my faith. I wouldn't trade the increase in my ability to stay emotionally stable through stressful and unpredictable situations. And I wouldn't trade my son for any other.

I love you to the moon and back, Baby S. I love you no matter where you are. I love you no matter where you go to bed at night. I will love you always. Happy one year with our family, little man.