Confession

Confession time:

I suck at being a working mother. I don't know if I am coming or going. I can't seem to get my schedule together and always end up having to make an addendum for my sitter (she's a peach and never grumbles).

I can't be here to take of my children because we need my income.

I feel guilty.

I feel like I am letting everyone down.

I stink at my job and I stink at home.

I am resentful because I feel like no one works as hard as I do.

There are a lot of "I's" in this post, which probably means I'm probably being a big whiny, self centered, baby right now.

Which I am.

whaaaaaa.

Alright, so I need to just suck it up and get over it.

Seriously.

Right. Now.

Confession Time Part Two:

I would like to hire a maid and a cook and a gardener. All who will work for my smiles alone.

Apply within.

From Where I Stand

There was an attack at my house yesterday. It was low and vicious and it kicked me in the noggin' and made me sad. The blunt force trauma to my ego left me wobbly and little on the whiny side. The assailant was none other than that Big, Green Meanie, Mr. Jealous.  Left bruised and bandaged I managed to share the grief with my Beloved, who, to his credit, sat quietly and calmly sized up the situation in his logical manner. 

He's that kinda guy.

I went to bed with the intent of apologizing for my wah wah wah tirade, but fell asleep before he crawled into his side of the bed. 

Later, after I arrived at work and opened up my personal email (yes, personal email at the office....) I found the following email from my Beloved:

Are you depressed? Worried about money? Afraid you'll choke Hay-Hay or beat KK? Well have I got a deal for you! Not really…just wondering if you are OK.  Is it just envy of the jet setting life of Writer-Girl? Or Recently Single Girlfriend who is pursuing Lou Ferigno on the Internet? Or me driving a stunning new truck? Or Oldest Daughter going to University and you being stuck in the go to work and come home and work rut?

See, Mr. Jealous arrived when I looked on Facebook and saw all the wonderful adventures of my bestest buddy, Writer-Girl. She is livin' the dream. Her writing contract is firm. She's got two books out from a three book set (last one releases in the fall) and she has what just may be a blockbuster hitting book stores in a matter of days. Writer-Girl is currently touring a major city on a signing tour.
Don't get me wrong, I love my pal and I am happy for her success. She has earned everything that is coming her way. 

And I'm workin' for the man - hoping to pull off a couple of day trips with Thing One and Thing Two this summer, to keep the house spic and span and hopefully tame the jungle of a yard. My greatest ambition is to not wake up tired. 

Mr. Jealous is nasty brute and I don't remember inviting him home for dinner.

But last night, as I was falling asleep, I was reminded of words that once said to someone who questioned my homeschooling, home making, let's raise 'em right, lifestyle. I said,

"I would rather be the mother of two well adjusted, well educated, Christ serving adults, than to have the fleeting affection of the world."

My life is loud. It is colorful. It is filled with craziness and two fragile hearts. There are track meets and band concerts and multicultural nights at the elementary school. There are therapy appointments and doctor appointments and the adventure of dragging one 14-year-old show shopping for "girl" shoes (I'd rather eat glass).

From where I stand, my life is good. My biggest adventure might be conquering an ever growing mountain of laundry or it might be learning to traverse the public school system. Perhaps it will be helping KK to feel at home in her own skin or showing Hay-Hay what family really looks like.

It ain't glamours, but it's mine.

I gave Mr. Jealous a switch kick and sent him home. He isn't welcome at my house and if he returns, I'll sick Thing One and Thing Two on him. 

He doesn't stand a chance.

Sometimes

Sometimes...

I stand in your doorway at night and watch you sleep. I smile because you are sleeping sideways, allowing our fluffy kitty to take up a large portion of your bed.

There are times when your laughter is so genuine that I cannot help but laugh myself.

I look into those blue eyes and wonder what's going on inside your head. I ask myself if you are the angel you want me to think you are, or that girl from the movie, The Bad Seed.

Often times I wonder what you are like when I'm not around. Who are you when you are at school? Why don't you play outside at recess?

Sometimes I want to scream at you and make you change. I want to make you be different from who you actually are.That's when I remember that there were other adults who probably screamed and MADE you who you are.

There are times, when you are so demanding of my attention, that I would give my right arm if you would just give me five minutes peace. Of course, there are the other times when I smell your hair and hold you close and forget that you can be annoying and anxious.

When you fight with your sister...I gotta be honest here...I want you to stop using your words and fists to get your point across.

Sometimes when you are scared, I'm scared too, but I don't share that with you...because I am your rock.

I wonder, sometimes, if you will ever love Jesus, or me, or Dad, as much as we love you.

There are times, when I see or sense that someone isn't being nice to you, that I want to thrash that person within an inch of their lives and remind them that NO ONE messes with my baby.

Sometimes you call me Squishy Mommy and I call you Squishy Baby.

Sometimes we growl and screech and run around the house as if we've lost our minds...and I wonder what the neighbors think.

When I think about the future, I cannot always see who you will be. I don't know if you will spend holidays with us, or if Dad will give you away at your wedding, or if you'll excitedly call me up to tell me that I am going to be a grandma.

Sometimes you sit on my lap, look up at me with those blue eyes, and say something so ridiculous that everyone bursts into laughter.

And other times your stomach hurts because it's a court day, or a therapy day, or you just don't want me to go to work.

Is it possible that you cannot imagine your life without us? Because I cannot imagine my life without you. And even though Dad and I sometimes look at each other with that "we've lost our minds" look, we won't change our minds.

Not even sometimes.

The Naked Truth

New parents, new house, new school and of course, a new doctor.

The girls were thrilled to visit the local pediatric clinic last week. They were thrilled to be told to UNDRESS and wrap themselves up in paper robes. They were thrilled that I was in the room.

Yeah, so they were not thrilled nor happy about any portion of their doctor visit.

The horrified look on KK's face was slightly amusing. Not because her discomfort was funny, but because she didn't realize that I would respect her privacy. I stood with my back to the girls, pressed against the door (keeping it firmly closed against intrusion), eyes closed.

They sat side by side on the exam table, a force to be reckoned with. Serious faces, uncomfortable in their own skin, peeved that adults were forcing them into this uncomfortable examination.

And I laughed.

I joked about paper robes, paper exam table covers, and the temperature of the room. Pretty much anything that would lighten the mood. When KK shifted her position, I mentioned the muscle definition in her leg and my surprise that she had such strong legs. She flexed her muscles and let me just say that little girl is nothing but muscle. Not an ounce of fat on that one! KK made a comment about something (that is completely lost to me now) and I was slapped in the face with a reality check:

She doesn't trust us.

Not. One. Little. Bit.

It's not insulting and it's to be totally expected, but it wears on a person. We've come to the conclusion that the reason it wears on us is because we are use to being trusted, especially by children. Now we have this wild little animal with raging hormones, who sometimes eyes us with a weary expression.

And yet, she wants to be adopted.

By us.

Today.

Such a contradiction.

She has so many secrets, both from her past and in the present. Will we ever really know who she is? Do we want to know who she is?

KK has made it clear that she does not want us attending her track meets. She says it makes her uncomfortable that we would be watching her. Why? There are strangers and school friends and coaches and teammates watching her. Why are we different?

Is it because we represent adults who have power over her situation? Just like her biological father? Or, is it  that she trusts no one and that for the rest of her life she will keep us at arms length?

It's all very tricky and sticky and muddled.

I'm hoping that as the months pass, perhaps her guard will fall a little. Maybe, just maybe, after proving we that we are stable, she will begin to trust us. If we don't abuse her, if we don't lie to her, if we keep our promises, maybe we will one day be a real family.

The naked truth is this; she acts like a guest in our house.

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time, in the little green house on the corner, two girls came to live with new parents. They brought their clothes. They brought their toys. They brought books and shoes and HUGE stuffed animals. The two little girls brought their sniffles. They brought their tears. They brought their bad attitudes.

The family who lived in the little green house were prepared for sniffles and tummy aches. They knew all about clothes and toys and books. Mom and Dad were certain of good days and bad. They smiled knowingly at each other as incidents of lying and crying and squabbles presented themselves.

And as the days rolled along, each member of this new family learned to adjust and stretch and accept. Even when littlest daughter said mean, horrible, despicable things. Mom and Dad took it in stride when middle daughter was caught in a lie. No one was surprised. Annoyed, but not surprised.

Each day, everyone did their job. The children went to school. The parents went to work. They gathered round the dinner table each night and shared the news of their day. For littlest daughter, Mom became Mommy and Dad was occasionally ignored or rebuffed and every now and again he was called Daddy.

The days grew into weeks and weeks into months and while life had a certain flow to it, middle daughter was cautious. She was careful. She worked hard at being perfect...so that her dream of adoption might come true.

For you see, the evil in her life and the life of her sister, kept its bony hand firmly upon their backs - lest they become settled and happy.

One day, Mom and Dad traveled many miles to court. They sat in the back row with former Foster mom and dad. They listened to the valiant DA, the comedic caseworker, the bull dog attorney. In the back ground, biological mom attempted to cast her spell of lies. She spun a web of deceit, hoping to spread her poison and ensure that her daughters never find peace.

But the Bull Dog had quick, sharp teeth and produced evidence proving how many times attempts had been made by the State to work with, help, or simply contact Bio-Mom. The comedic caseworker came prepared with her own reports, and the DA simply laughed and shook her head.

The Most Honorable Judge listened in stern silence as point after point showed the failings of Bio-Mom, who is truly trapped in the prison of her addiction and mental illness. The Most Honorable Judge asked pointed questions and then handed down her decision.

The state plan would be changed from return to parent to adoption.

This time there were no tears from the phone's speaker as Bio-Mom accepted her fate.

DA asked the court that this matter be settled before the beginning of the school year and all parties agreed.

As the brilliant, bright flowers begin to bloom in the garden of the little green house on the corner, two girls ride their bikes up and down the street. In many ways, they seem untouched by the stress and drama of the foster care system. They seem so normal.

Hidden beneath the surface of two smiling faces, worries and cares lurk. Sometimes sharp words fly. Sometimes angry attitudes burst forth like ugly, green slime, engulfing all who stand in its path. Many times Mom and Dad whisper and wonder to each other, but then they remember:

Once upon a time ends with ... and they lived happily, ever after.

Baby, It's Hot in Here!

I know, I know, I know!

It's been forever since I updated. Please understand that my free time is now so incredibly limited that I have no time to write, no time to think, and sometimes, no time to breath!

The Recap:

The girls moved in Feb 7. KK had been really poking the bear. She knew she was moving and she wanted to move NOW. There is nothing like an anxious teenager to set ones nerves on end. KK tapped danced all over Prev. Foster mom's nerves until she simply couldn't take it any more.

From my point of view, PFM (previous foster mom) really needed to get a grip. She complained to me that KK was defiant! rebellious! unmanageable! When I cornered her on that statement, saying, "So she's breaking things? She's running away? She's is physically violent?" PFM replied, "No....but she won't do her homework. She won't clean her room. She won't do what she's asked to do and she's picking on her little sister!"

Gasp.

Seriously though, KK was acting out and yet not acting out. Considering her past, she really should be killing small animals and setting fire to things.

Which, she has never done and isn't doing now.

It is very apparent that PFM is super strict, which actually works out in our favor. Yes, we are strict, but we are also fair. The girls think they have died and gone to heaven...for the moment at least.

So, the girls were moved without notice. They got off the bus and found all their worldly goods in a heap on the living floor. They were told I would be picking them up within the hour. They were not given an opportunity to say goodbye to friends or mentally prepare for the move.

Such is life in foster care.

In the weeks since they have moved in we have had a lot of anxiety tummy. School and work have been missed and yet we've somehow survived and are learning to figure things out. Let me just say that all of this would be A LOT easier if I wasn't working for the man Monday through Friday from 8:00 am to 5:00 pm.

The four of us were required to attend the recent Permanency Hearing. We were told the girl would not need to attend and then received word the night before the hearing, that both girls were required to attend.

Oi

More anxiety tummy. More worried eyes. More drama and trauma.

KK spoke before the Judge, the lawyers, the caseworkers, and her bio-mother (who always attends court on speaker phone from another state). She sat up straight in her chair and spoke in a strong clear voice.

Lawyer - KK you know that the court needs to make a decision regarding you and your sisters future. These are the choices that the Judge will consider in your case. The first one is for you and your sister to return to your parents. The second, is for you to stay in foster care until you each turn 18. The third is for the court to appoint guardians for you both and the forth choice is for you and your sister to be adopted. What would you like to see happen?

KK - I want to be adopted.

Lawyer - With your sister or without your sister?

KK - With my sister.

Lawyer - And how much contact would you like to have in the future with your father?

KK - I do not want any contact with my father.

Lawyer - and how much contact would you like to have in the future with your mother?

KK - I do not want any contact with my mother.

The sound of Bio Mom's sobbing filled the court room. Her weeping began when KK said she wanted to be adopted, but the heartbreaking tears really began to flow when KK said she wanted no contact with her mother.

We (the lawyers, PF Mom and Dad, caseworkers, Beloved and I) were not surprised by the admission of adoption. We were equally not surprised by KK's desire to never speak to her father, but to cut off all contact with her mother was surprising. My heart caught in my throat when KK uttered those words. The searing pain and loss that Bio Mom must have felt was horrific. I felt so sad for all parties involved. Every adult in that room understands KK's motives (to a degree anyway), but a lifetime is a long time not to speak to your biological family. Fourteen is far to young to make a life altering decision such as this. Yet, she knows her mother and the rest of us only have court documents and Bio Mom's own statements to base an opinion on.

Don't get me wrong, Bio Mom has made many, many, many poor choices regarding her young daughters. She abandoned them to a monster in an attempt to save herself. She has been in and out of prison and jail. She has mental issue. She is an addict. Yet, for me all I can think of is the sorrow that a mother feels when her children reject her.

KK has a lot of anger inside her, anger that she is going to need to deal with before it engulfs her. Hay-Hay is still little and has the best chance at a normal life.

When I look at my two young daughters and see their strengths and weaknesses, I wonder how we will get them to adulthood in one piece. I wonder how I can be so calm in the midst of the all the drama. I marvel at the compassion that I feel for Bio Mom.

Could it be that I have grown as a person? It's only been a month, so I won't get too carried away here. But I see a glimmer of the person that I've always wanted to be and I think I am beginning to understand the refining of trials by fire.

Only time will tell if I can stand the heat.

The Moment Our Eyes Met....

Months ago I shared about KK and Hay Hay. I told ya'll how they needed a forever home. I explained a little bit about their drama. I wrung my hands, cried a few tears, said no...then said yes and finally accepted the simple fact that these two malnourished, abused, abandoned girls were meant to be our daughters.

And so it begins.

Last Friday I received an urgent phone call from the girls' case worker. Seems that things were truly disintegrating between KK (in all her hormonal, 14-year-old glory) and her foster mom (with her own set of waning hormones and emotions). It had gotten so bad that the case worker felt she needed to move them THAT DAY. What could I do but drive down there and pick up KK and Hay Hay and their mountain(!) of stuff.

It's been five days now. Five days of crazy. Five days of laughter. Five days of tears.The move was hardest on Hay Hay, who has a strong bond with foster mom. KK, snarky little thing that she is, pretends to be less effected. We know she's hurting and that the situation must be dealt with, but we are trying so hard to simply love them.

Now that they are here, the reality of every day life is upon us! How will we get them home from school? What happens on a sick day?

Oi! I need a nanny and how!

I'd really like to hire Alice, from the Brady Bunch. She was a gem. I don't know what Mike Brady paid her, but she was worth it.

I'll figure it out. I took this week as a vacation week and have enrolled the girls in school. I've still got to find doctors and dentists and therapists, but it will get done. Our Certification Inspection is Thursday.

These two are bringing new life into our home. I know that we started this journey thinking of all that we could do and provide for the girls, but honestly, they are blessing us in ways they don't even understand.

So, even though there are surprises waiting, even though we are all enjoying a "honeymoon" period, even though there are bound to be hard times ahead, I'm loving life. Next week, it will be back to the office, school, homework, and the reality of two more mouths to feed.

Life will never be boring with KK and Hay Hay.

Welcome home girls!