I don’t ever want to forget your hand in mine.
Your initiative.
It could have all gone so much quicker.
But I didn’t want it to.
Step by step down the long hallway.
I just wanted to be with you.
With Dinah?
A little rice play on the kitchen floor anyone?
Why yes… Yes please!
*** No rice particles were harmed in the making of this fun – funny what a little close supervision will do for ya. 😉
So Darlene
I still remember riding bikes to the park at the end of the cul-de-sac. Me on the boys bike, borrowed from an unknowing little brother. And she on her bike (back when riding a bike was still on the agenda). The breeze in her red hair. The sky speckled with bright white clouds. The wind rustling the trees. Nothing really to do. No pressing schedules. Just me and her. And an afternoon all to ourselves.
Darlene. Saying her name brings back a flood of wonderful memories. Little did I know when I met her at our hometown church as a young child that some twenty years later we’d fly across the country and she’d drive a state over to spend time together.
We packed everything we owned and trucked it across the country. Funny how my Daddy would make a profession out of moving people cross-country later. Only this time it was us. I was excited. Scared. Anxious. The goodbye didn’t feel real. Surely I’d see Darlene next weekend. I turned nine on the road. It was the first year I remember not having her at my birthday party.
We went back to visit when I was in fifth or sixth grade. We missed “home”. Things still felt new in Ohio and weird. The accents still felt foreign. Why did everyone assume I knew how to surf? Darlene still felt like home. Funny how you can pick back up right where you left off with a few year gap.
Then came the news that she had saved her money. Not just for her ticket. But for her mom’s too. She came and visited. She stayed for many days. She watched me graduate High School. It was great to have my old friend back. There were no string attached. There was no guilt trip about lack of writing letters. There was no pressure. No expectation. Just her smile. And hugs all around. Good friends are like that. Even with years of “different worlds”.
I can’t quite remember if I found her on facebook or she found me. It’d been so long. College graduation. Marriage. And kid…. soon to be kids. I couldn’t believe it. That same beautiful smile. Those same bright eyes. That same welcome mat. Some things about people never change… especially when they’re so good.
A surprise package came in the mail. The thing weighed a ton. The box was the size of two of my toddlers. The neighbors must have enjoyed watching a very pregnant me drag it in from the strong July heat. The girls’ eyes were huge. I could barely believe my eyes as I read the tag. “From Darlene”. It was packed full of summer fun for the girls. Indoor summer activities. Things I could do with them while remaining in the air conditioning. Tears welled in my eyes. Her generosity stunned me.
And then another package silently came. Two days before my induction date. Hospital bags packed with goodies for the new big sisters and some precious outfits and a welcome-home wreath for our soon-to-be new addition. How could someone be so thoughtful? How could someone have such heart for little girls she had never even met? All I can say is… It’s just Darlene.
And then came our last trip. Funny how for a moment I was nervous. Would it be the same Darlene? She’s married now. And a big professional at work. I mean she travels. And I’m just a stay-at-home Mom. And it blew me away again… how easily she was thrilled to drive from a state away. “I’ll go wherever and do whatever. It’ll be great”. Her smile melted away all my doubts. I had forgotten in a moment who I was meeting up with. It’s Darlene for crying out loud. Darlene!
It was one of those days I wish never ended. Her smile is so contagious. Her heart so kind.
I wish my girls could find a friend like her in life. A friend who doesn’t disappear with distance. A friend who doesn’t just live in the past, but dares to create a present no matter how much time passes. A friend who just cares. No strings attached.
I can only pray I have been that friend to her as well.
My two favorite red-heads.
– Love ya, Darlene. You’re such a wonderful friend.
Wordless Wednesday: Happening
I love it when I happen apon these moments:
For the Squish of It
Saw various “sensory bags” on Pinterest and thought we’d give it a go with some of our junk drawer “freebies” and a cold “no play outside” afternoon. Gathered some stray beads, googley eyes, small fake flowers, tissue paper, beads, foam stickers, buttons, bows, bells, leftover lotion, veggie oil, corn syrup, food coloring, shaving creme, paint, and various other little items to allow many, many choices.
“Wait, let Mommy take a picture and try not to look like you hate your life…” – Mission failed. HA! –
“Ok, now pick what you’d like to go in your bag.”
Then we added the gooshy choices to their hearts’ delights, squeezed the air out and sealed that puppy up. I added some duct tape to make myself feel a little easier about handing the bag to the preschoolers who would then run through my house with food colored, water balloon bag joys.
The play got mighty creative.
And some bags had to be double-bagged once *ahem* enjoyed.
“AHHHH Attack-face!!!”
I even made one for the babies. (Supervising at all times)
Hannah approved (Little Man was asleep, but later approved).
So the bags were fun for a day. But after two days they turned all slimy. Maybe it was the veggie oil seeping into the freezer bag plastic. Eh, who knows. But we wished them goodbye and counted it a great “get rid of junk AND enjoy the afternoon” craft. =)
Rising
So I wanted to take a moment to share how we are doing and how we have come to where we are today.
It’s a little hard to believe that 11 weeks ago (12 tomorrow) we first met “our” boys. It was just 3 days after my birthday. And while I had this feeling it could be “just around the corner” I had no idea how close the corner really was.
Our honeymoon was no honeymoon. Night 1 Little Man was up every 20 minutes. Every 20 MINUTES people and Matt and I got the opportunity to put our teamwork to the greatest victory we have had to date. It was rough. But we kept a lighthearted “don’t nurse the wrong baby” vibe as our new foster love began his round-robin of wake-up calls, echoed by our Hannah.
Day 2 was a blur of sleep deprivation followed by the termed “Jesus wrap” swaddler that took a “every 20 minute” cryer into the land of 8 hour sleeps. Suddenly the clouds broke on Day 3 and 5 felt manageable. We were still in the land of excitement decibel monitoring, “welcome to the new rules” management, and “that’s my Mommy” sharing training. Night 3 proved a wonderful 7 hour swaddling, while Big Guy continued to cry himself to sleep. We were still new. And confusing. And fun and exciting, but still “not Mom”.
Day 4 added some new groundwork on “this is how we do it here” training and then came the little cough. It was 8pm. Most were settled or close to settled in bed when the “little cough” began. The little cough returned our sleeping Little Man to 20 minute sound-offs. And by 4am, the little cough had turned to full-blown wheezing. We knew it was beyond us right then and there, but we didn’t know how bad it truly was. Looking back now I’m glad we didn’t know. I’m glad we didn’t know what we signed ourselves up for. Cause it was hard. Very hard.
A routine Dr. appointment turned into a trip “straight to the ER”. 70% oxygen level in the blood plus the wheezing and the mucus faucet meant my girls were having an extended play visit and Matt was meeting me downtown.
No one plans to move into the hospital for 2 days when they leave the house to go to work. But the unknowns of Little Man’s response to illness and his weakened immunity sent us through a whirlwind of crisis management. Little Man rode the rollercoaster of waiting out the illness while Matt caught the flu from the hospital and I tried to figure out balancing four kids who wanted their father ad brother back. The “i don’t know” hurt the most when asked constantly when Little Man and Daddy would return. We felt stuck. And out of control. Family swooped in to help ease the blow, allowing Matt a moment to get away to eat “non hospital” food and see his teary-eyed girls. But he was sick. And we couldn’t afford to be sick too. So there was still some hard distance.
After 2.5 days Little Man was released to go home. But it took the good part of 30 days to overcome his illness with choppy sleep and newborn-like discomforts. We were still studying him. And he does sick very ugly. He didn’t know us. And we didn’t know him. So comfort was hard to come by.
In the mean time, Hannah was being slowly untrained to sleep through the night and was learning separation anxiety early. My big girls took on the stress in different ways. Sometimes they just wanted to play by themselves and sometimes they would cry a little longer or be more stubborn in their defiance. They were testing that we were still as in love with them as we were before the boys. And happily, we passed the test. =)
Big Guy hit it off well with me. Playing built trust quickly. And stability breathed comfort into him. And honestly, it was Christ and Christ alone that covered the burns of the past when we could only assure him of his safety and rub his hair through the tears. Slowly the bedroom door was able to be closed more and more. He trusted we were still going to be there. And he was safe. Today it’s only open a crack.
Little Man healed from his 30 day bug and returned to sleeping well at night for 4 days. Then he got bronchitis. And we were back to square one. Only this time we got a suction machine from urgent care. Yay for tools! And we sucked that boy into a greater ability to sleep and eat to overcome his illness. After 2 weeks the oogies had cleared enough that he sounded “normal.” He stayed normal until the weather change and now sounds terrible again. But we’re used to how he does sickness now. And we’re used to identifying what we can and cannot suck out of him. Congestion is the poor boys default. And it’s not always accompanied by illness.
So here we find ourselves. embracing the new normal. Everyone going to bed in their own beds. Everyone comfortable enough with each other to sleep to their full potentials. Little Man is Matt’s baby at night. And I’m in charge of our Little Redhead. Then we flip coins for the older girls on growing pain and “have to go potty” random nights depending on how our assigned babies are sleeping.
Big Guy is no longer staying awake until 11pm in is bed, he has now become accustomed to a more typical 5 year old bedtime. He has begun memorizing Scripture with the family at bedtime and is delighting in his Sunday School class. He’s stopped being completely shy amidst the “let’s talk to the assistant pastor’s kids” addresses. And he is one seriously skilled madman on his “new to us” bike. His eyes hold trust. And he is expressing his deep hurts and his deep loves. And he’s stopped crying when it’s time to come back with us after his visits with his Mom. Matt’s “Daddy” many times and I’m “Mommy” “Mom” or “Monica” depending on his mood. We’ve never introduced ourselves as anything other than Matt and Monica. We let him decide who we are to him. =)
Little Man is showing increased muscle toning and accepting more and more distraction from toys and dustings of self-soothing. He is becoming more of a smiler and more predictable in his wants/needs. He was a harder cookie for me to love at first. (Just being honest). I am one the can handle sleep interruptions (within reason), but when you add that to a constant crying unless a bottle was held in the child’s mouth for the first weeks… it was quite hard in my balancing of 5. But we’re building a better relationship now and time to grow, mature and change has really helped mesh us both better.
And my girls… well with the grace of God we’ve been able to still preserve their innocence in all this. While it’s a challenge to stifle “too informed” announcements at the dinner table without peeking our Commentator’s interest, Big Guy is quite receptive to “yeah, let’s not talk about that” cues while still trusting that when he needs to talk to us about things we are more than willing to walk the harder roads with him. I am thankful for God’s grace in Big Guy’s quick-learning in this area. The Lord is sheltering my babies while opening their eyes to a Jesus love alive in compassion.
We still have our hiccups. And our silly tufts. And our control-issues. Oh and then there’s the frequented time-out corner…
But we’re meshing still. And we’re talking about sharing life together. And planning for “in the summer” without tears forming in Big Guys eyes at that reality. We’re still praying for Mom. She needs Jesus. And she needs healing. But she’s got the love of her boys right. And for that we are thankful.
You know, it’s funny in all this… the very fear of foster care that I had to begin. You know that one everyone so happily brings up in every conversation when they realize the boys aren’t ours… “Oh, how are you going to give them back? I could never do that.”
I don’t know. I really don’t. But it doesn’t scare me. It doesn’t keep me up at night. I can’t change it. And it’s what God has given us. And if after I love these boys unconditionally for months or years they go back to Mom, then I’ve done what God has called me to do. And we’ll cry and we’ll carry on as a family. And if after I love these boys unconditionally for months or years and I become their legal Mommy, then I’ve done what God has called me to do. And we’ll cry and we’ll carry on as a family.
It is hard work.
But it is the right work.
And I trust my Maker.
He designed us for this.
So cheers to the challenge.
– To God be the glory.