Saturday, August 17, 2013

My Last Post was When?

Eessh! It's been a couple of months since I posted.

No, the children have not killed me yet.

And, no, I have not killed them.

Our summer actually has gone pretty well. KK worked for three weeks at camp. Hay-Hay attended Royal Kids Family Camp (Foster kid camp). Both girls attended soccer camp. We went to the beach. Soccer practice has begun and school is two weeks away.

Whew!

We've had ups and downs. There have been a few tears and a few moments when I have despaired. Family therapy is helpful. As is going to work every day. The pool helps too.

The courts are still doing their thing. Parental Rights should be terminated in the next couple of months. The adoption will take 9 to 12 months after that.

So much red tape.

Boy is so sick of school he could spit. Girl is preparing to begin at the new University in a matter of days. She's weary and stressed. It's going to be a long two years.

Friends...Well, I don't really know what to say about them.

I don't seem to have time to be the friend I'd like to be. I'm tired and frankly it seems that some friends just have too many sob stories and too much drama.

I've got oodles of my own drama. Seriously.

I believe that when I look back on these years, that I will be glad of them. That the struggles and stress of it all was well worth it. But sometimes, down here in the trenches, I sigh.

I wonder what it would be like to have a mom who was really a mom. A mom like my bosses mother, who brings dinner once a week. A mother who comes over early Saturday mornings to watch the baby, so my boss and her husband can sleep in. What would it be like to have a mom who could just give me a pep talk when I needed one?

But this is old blog fodder. There is no Mom in my life. Never was, never will be.

Which makes what I'm doing so much more important.

The girls often ask why I do some of the things that I do. Like staying up to make sure a certain article of clothing is dry and ready to be worn the next day. Or, why I make homemade granola instead of buying the fatty/sugary granola from the store.

In response to their query, I tell them that this is what a mom does. At first, they would simply stare at me with perplexed eyes. Now, they begin to comprehend that a mother's job is to care for her family to the best of her ability.

Not that this is a single handed job. Beloved is here and does what he does too.

My new little girls are full questions and full of vinegar. They speak a different language and they often do not understand the simplest bits of information. It's as if they were raised in a different country. Which I suppose they were.

Our home does not solve problems with brute force. We do not abuse. We do not condemn. We simply love the often times, unlovable.

I hope, as days pass into years, that they will thrive and that they will look back and marvel at the changes that God brought into all of our lives. I know that I will never be the same.


6 comments:

patti said...

I have so much love and admiration for you, momma. And prayer, I've got those too.

Annie said...

Thanks Patti, So often I think it is the prayer of others that keep me afloat. Truly.

Island Rider said...

Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy! He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing,shall come home with shouts of joy,bringing his sheaves with him. Psalm 126:4-5

These verses got me through some rough years with youngest son. I hope they give you comfort as well. I can say that the shouts of joy are well worth every tear.

Praying.

Anonymous said...

I also keep you in my prayers ... I remember that comment about "loving the unloveable" trying to remember where I heard it before . . .I know I am such an imperfect mother still . . . so thankful for these little ones he has entrusted to me :) Love you friend, Kat

Annie said...

Island Rider - I believe I should post that verse everywhere my eyes wander to remind me of this great promise of God. Thank you so very, very much. I truly needed that.

Annie said...

Kat - no one knows better than you the bitter tears of frustration. Thanks for your prayers sister xoxoxo