FIVE!

I know some of you are still battling with building a family, so please don't take offense at my posts about our son. I have always said from day one that this is our journey, and part of that journey is celebration. Some chose IVF, some chose adoption, some foster, some have furr-babies, and others chose to live child-free. I will never judge your choices, but I do feel that part of our journey is to live in the moment and celebrate...That being said, this will be a Momma Brag post.

FIVE! We now have a FIVE-YEAR-OLD little man. I swear in the past week he has matured tenfold. Seriously, from things like him informing me that he "has enough toys" and wants to "put (his birthday money) in his pig(gy bank)". To him taking off with his morning chores. Gets dressed, brushes his teeth, and feeds the dogs with me having to ask just once! (You do know I am going to have to nag him about this tomorrow, that is how it works when you brag on your kids, they have to remind you that they are little humans.)
He is enrolled in Kindergarten and eager for the possibility of soccer in the fall! He uses his manners 95% of the time, and loves his friends.
Is he perfect, no. But he is growing into a gentleman, "just like Daddy".
Tonight as we left his friend's house, she ran out the door to get a kiss. Not just from me, actually I think I may have been an after thought. No, she wanted a kiss from our son. Feels like yesterday we were doing respite with him, today he is doing his own chores, and tomorrow I will be photographing him on his way to prom with his best friend.
Happy Birthday to my Baby, my Punkin, and forever my best friend.

Made for TV Drama

In some ways I feel like our journey is a made for TV drama. I feel like I should be on Lifetime or the Hallmark channel. I feel like the "Happily Ever After" should happen any moment, but life isn't like that. We chose to live our lives, we make our choices, and we chose what our happily ever after looks like. Mine isn't perfect, but its mine.

However when I stop to think about my TRUE happily ever after, I see a cherub faced almost five year old eating PB&N (peanut butter and nutella), who loves his "bideo" game (Lightning McQueen racing), Spiderman, and his Daddy. He sneaks sips of coffee and on more than one occasion has been guilty of guzzling nearly $5 worth of a white chocolate mocha!

My goals for my happily ever after are (as one friend succinctly put them) "cautiously optimistic". I have dreams of him following in his Daddy's hooks. I want to see him climb power poles and steel structures, but I also know that he may never get to that level. I encourage him to be whatever he wants to be. I pray for his future wife (if he has one). I look toward his future with optimism, but at the same time realistically.

You see, our son has delays in communication. We have made some GREAT strides, and he has come a long way, but many people still don't understand him. Often we wonder if he really understands us all the time. I dream of raising the next Albert Einstein (who also has been credited with slow language development) or at least seeing him grow into a pair of climbing boots, but also must work on today. With those dreams in mind, my happily ever after and I work towards age-appropriate communication.

I challenge you, in your journey, to take time to consider what your happily ever after may look like. I challenge you to look forward to it, and meet the challenges head on. Do not get frustrated with road blocks, but overcome them.

The Princess and the Giant

I had a friend today who asked if we had ever fostered any little girls. We have. Our long-term fosters were all boys, but there were two princess. One stayed with us just a week until a space opened in her old foster home and another was with us just three weeks. Both offered challenges unique to girls, and to themselves.
The one I am thinking of today was nearly two when she came to us. She had so much SASS!
The first day we had her, I realized that we were lacking in little girl clothes. I had one pair of corduroy overalls and a red onesie in her size. But that was it! Not exactly the pink frills and bows that a Princess needs. I dressed her in those clothes that first day, and as soon as nap time for my son and other foster son hit, I left them with my husband. Then I asked her if she wanted to go shopping. The sassy walk to the door and "YES!" was my answer.
At the store, I was browsing the clearance and sales sections for a deal when she approached me with a pair of skinny jeans trimmed in pink stitching. I shuddered at the price, but she was insistent THIS was what she wanted. Laughing at her fashion sense, I made the purchase, figuring that she was worth every penny. Let me tell you she ROCKED those skinny jeans!
My next lesson from this little girl was not so much fun. See at this time I was working part-time (for some wonderful employers) to keep our health insurance benefits. We had a system worked out where my husband would come home and "relieve me" of momma duties so that I could go to work. I hugged the kids and left. Once I got to work I got a call from him that our Princess hadn't stopped crying since I had left. He had called his mom to come and help get her in jammies since she was pacing out of arms reach from him sobbing. I am so thankful for the fact that my mother-in-law was able to come help and stay with him until I got off of work and home four hours later, but she cannot do this every time I have to go to work.
It was the next day at Costco that I devised a plan. I grabbed a Costco sized bag of gummy bears, and informed Princess that these were "Daddy L's" and if she wanted some, she had to ask. I figured that in time she would see that he was safe. When he got home, she came to me and asked for some candy. I told her that they weren't mine, and she walked to L pointing at the top of the fridge. This was a start, so he gave her some...within time she began using her words to ask. Then within a week I walked around the corner to see him sitting cross-legged on the floor reading a book with her in his lap!  SUCCESS!!!
I still don't know what happened to this Princess to make her fearful of men, even my kind-hearted husband. I have my assumptions, but won't share those here. I guess the moral of the story is that each child, whether a foster placement, an adoptive placement, a student in church or school, or a kid on your sports team has their own back story and their own challenges. They are worth it. Figure out how, with time you can meet and over come those challenges with them. I promise, they are so worth it.

He's Mine

I am a bit behind on this post, but here it is...Three years have gone by since we got that beautiful phone call letting us know that we were selected to be our son's FOREVER FAMILY. I won't lie and say its been all gum drops, jolly ranchers, and laffy taffy. We (like bio-families) have had our ups and downs. I was informed today, while receiving some sass from my son, that my husband doesn't know "WHERE he gets that from." I think he was being sarcastic, but I know where and even though it drives me CRAZY when he gets sassy with me...I can't be prouder of him.
You see, I am a strong-willed individual. I am a fighter, a prayer, and learning to be a "give it up to God"-er. I realize more and more each day that my little sponge is learning from me. The good and the bad. He says some of the same one-liners that I do ("ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"). He stomps his feet and gives me the same looks that I give him. He is also loving and nurturing. When I cry, he runs for the tissues and climbs into my lap. He asks what is wrong, and kisses my cheeks.
I am blessed beyond measure to have him. WE are blessed to have him. He is becoming a bit of each of us and I am proud. We (our son and I, slowly we are converting my husband) are country music fans. I love Rodney Atkins songs, mostly because they speak to me and remind me of who I am and where I came from. (Farmer's Daughter?) One of OUR favorites is "He's Mine" it was my ring tone for a while, and I think it might be time to use it again. I know its written to be about a Dad being proud of his son, but when it plays I sing it to our son. Because he is MINE. He acts just like me. He's stubborn. He's witty. He's sensitive. HE'S MINE.

If you haven't heard the song, check it out HERE.

Also, have you seen the new ad campaign put out by the Dave Thomas Foundation for adopting foster children? Please watch it. I promise it will move you, but grab some tissues before you click HERE.

The Blessings of Being Foster Parents

There is so much good that I can say about our experience as foster parents. We had five beautiful infants and children. They ranged in age from two weeks to two years when they arrived with us. They were each special, and each face is framed in a collage frame on our bedroom wall so that we can pray for them nightly.  

We have fun memories of taking them for their first swim, their first 18 hour road-trip (okay for some this was NOT fun, but still fond memories), first plane ride, first train ride, first vacation, first words, first steps, and first birthdays. One we have his photo of the trip home from the hospital. Another his first time seeing a horse. I have fond memories of a pretty little girl who enthusiastically yelled “YES!” and headed to the door when I asked if she wanted to go shopping. This same princess also picked out her own clothes, I have yet to mother another with such distinct style opinions. I also have pictures of first black-eyes and stitches (thanks to our son and a die-cast train).

These children conditioned and trained us as new parents. They gave us experiences that we might not have had otherwise, like the joy of waking several times a night to feed a newborn or the time you rush in at 2am to lift a crying 15 month old from a crib and have him vomit down your back only to realize he also vomited in his crib. Or the baby who climbs EVERYTHING, who requires you to be in the hallway to remind him to go to bed and not climb out of his crib. I also practiced my pig-tail and braid skills on a couple of princesses.

You see these are unique experiences that we did not have with our son. Things that we would have “missed out on” had we not fostered. Don't misunderstand, we have just as many (probably more) beautiful memories with our son, and so many more to come.

Each was a true blessing to our family, and these stories represent just a fraction of the joy they brought to our lives. Yes, loving kids was the best part of being foster parents. I cannot complain even a moment about them, they were all a gift. I would never trade these memories, or my time with these kids, not for anything.  

A Letter to Our Son: Two Years

Dear Son,

Two years ago today, I received an amazing call. Our adoption worker called to tell me that our adoption had been finalized. You would be our son forever. I can't begin to tell you how happy this made us. See, we have dreamed of the day of having our own child for years, 10 years to be exact. To have someone to love, spoil, and leave a legacy behind to. I know we tell you this daily, but YOU are special.

Not going to lie, we have had our ups and downs. You are a "normal" toddler. You squeal, scream, and push buttons. You are hard-headed like your momma, and fearless like your daddy. The combination of the two is sometimes VERY scary. Like the time you tried to climb over the edge of the slide halfway down, and five feet in the air! Or the time you tried to go up the ladder, across the platform, and swing out over the slide all BACKWARDS! But we have survived.

We have succeeded at loving and spoiling you. I don't know many boys who have as many matchbox cars or Thomas Trains as you have. Don't get me started in on your collection of DVDs. But more than physical possessions, you are spoiled with love (if that is possible). You can climb into our laps at anytime. You get to talk to daddy uninterupted every night, and have a short-order cook at your disposal every day.

There are some things that we hope for you for the future. We hope that we as parents can guide you to be loving. You are naturally good-natured, and accepting of everyone, our prayer is that this never leaves you. We want you to be successful in whatever you do. Last week you told us that you want to be a dentist and last night you told us that you want to work on the wires with Daddy. Your love for building makes us think you might just do that, or be an engineer or carpenter. Whatever you do, we pray that you succeed and are happy. Lastly, we want you to love learning. Whether it is learning more about God, the world, your line of work, or your hobbies. Never quit thirsting for knowledge.

Two years has taught us so much. It has caused us to grow as a family. We cannot wait to see how you grow, who you become, and how you succeed. We know that there will be failures, we will be here for you, and love you no matter what. Our Dear Son, always remember, YOU are SPECIAL.

Love,

Momma and Daddy

I didn't give you the gift of life,

but in my heart I know.

The love I feel is deep and real,

as if it had been so.

For us to have each other,

is like a dream come true.

No, I didn't give you the gift of life,

life gave me the gift of you.

-Author Unknown

Livin' on Love, Buyin' on Time

In February of 2009, I had to privilege of introducing this amazing vampire-toothed bundle of joy to my sisters and niece. They had come down for a weekend at the beach, and I had (purposely) double-booked myself with the baby and with them. They immediately fell in love with him, which I knew that they would, and were happy to help me with feeding, changing, and entertaining him. I have many precious photos from that weekend, especially from our walk on the beach, photos that I will cherish forever.

As time wore on, we got to the point where instead of waiting for a call to ask us to babysit, we would call to “borrow the baby”. He was such a joy, that we would make up excuses to have him or to keep him longer than agreed upon. By June we knew that we wanted him, that if he went up for adoption, we had to have him. We thought we would have that answer soon.

In June there was a “permanency hearing” held in regards to him. The name in and of itself, is really deceiving. You would assume that a permanency hearing would decide to future of a child, however in reality the hearing is to ensure that DHS is moving forward (at least in a minimal fashion) and to check on the parents progress in complying with the court's orders. If the parents have done anything then the court can (and often will) extend the amount of time that the parents have to meet the court's requirements. At this point this little boy was 13 months old, and had been with his foster family since he was released from the hospital. By federal mandate, parents of foster children are given 12 months to get it together, or longer if they have made some progress. Since they had made some progress, they were given more time, three months to be exact.

We could wait however. We had our paperwork completed for both adoption and for foster care certification. We had gotten our physicals done, required to adopt any child, to ensure that we were both in good health. And lastly we had our “nursery” set up, complete with a farm-theme! As “expectant parents” went, we were ready...or so we thought.  

Falling In Love

For several months we would babysit this little man. We'd take him on weekends, take him for an afternoon, and we'd have him OVERNIGHT. Talk about scary...here we are adults who have NEVER had children, and we have a baby sleeping in a cradle next to our bed! 

I don't think I slept at all that first night. The baby, on the other hand, slept 12 hours. I was awake for every breath, coo, and squeak while this four-month old bundle slept peacefully. He was perfect. 

A few months later, I got sick, REALLY sick. I couldn't hardly move my body was so exhausted. Doctors poked and prodded me. I was on a first-name basis with my phlebotomist, since we were seeing each other ever other day. In the end I was diagnosed with an auto-immune disorder. My immune system decided that an organ needed to die, I might add it is a necessary organ! 

This two month period put a hold on spending time with our little buddy. It was heartbreaking especially as we were supposed to have him for a FEW days during this period. We saw him at church, and soaked up every possible snuggle moment that we could. We had inadvertently fallen in love. We were in love with a not-so-little baby whose smile resembled a vampire (his front teeth came in after the rest) and I believe that he was falling in love with us also. 

A Perfect Moment

While in the midst of attending these classes, I approached my friend who has been a long-time foster parent. She had a little boy, who was roughly three months old. I knew this from attending church and being a member of the 'baby snatchers' family. You see when this foster family has a new baby, our family offers to take the baby so that they can enjoy church. ;) This gives us the time to get our 'baby fix' since at this time there were few grand-babies and not enough to go around. Sorry, followed the rabbit trail. I had approached her since we had taken a class or two I felt like we were 'nearly certified' and offered to babysit him for them, if they needed help. She told me that she would keep that in mind.
A few weeks later she took me up on that offer, and I brought home a baby boy for the afternoon. We cuddled him, snuggled him, fed him (probably too much), and LOVED on him. It was an afternoon that I will remember forever. At one point he got fussy, probably because I was all up in his face with a bottle, and my husband took him. He held him in the crook of his arm and they 'played video games' together. The baby was content, like he belonged there.

Mother's Day

We all know it, Mother's Day is a cliche "Greeting Card Holiday" but when you are infertile, it is so much more. You wake knowing that today is the day that others celebrate what you can't have. You go to church and watch ALL the mothers being called forward, and cry inwardly because very few know your story. Then you spend the rest of the day either trying to forget its Mother's Day by doing something fun (which really is impossible as strangers from the waitress at the restaurant to the girl at the perfume counter all ask remind you), or in the fetal position on your bed sobbing. I have done both, neither really works.
Now I am a Mom, and honestly other than the presents (public THANK YOU for the Pioneer Woman Cookbook to my son), today will go on like any other day. I woke up, made my coffee, and set out my son's breakfast. I took him potty, helped him take his nighttime pull-up off, and assisted him in washing his hands. I selected today's wardrobe, dressed him, and brushed his hair. Later I will cook, do dishes, and HOPEFULLY weed what will be my flower beds. The only difference for me is that today I will remember why I do these things.
Today I will remind myself that as little as three years ago, I cried because I couldn't do them. As you know, I don't claim perfection, I am a wreck. So often I forget why I do these things. I admittedly sleep in too late, spend too much time on facebook, and really despise working in my yard, but today I chose to celebrate my son. Really, isn't that what being a Mother is all about?

Sometimes Commercials Make Me Cry

So today, I was babysitting a friends three miracles along with my own son. See all four children are blessings to our families through adoption, and while I was sitting with the kids in the living room a *Pampers* commercial came on. Maybe you have seen this commercial, it is roughly a full minute in length and talks about babies as miracles. There are no spoken words, just written statements, but the impact was so great that I started to weep. For me, my son is a blessing that far outweighs the value of oil in the Middle East or diamonds in Africa. Do I remember this when he is having a temper tantrum in a department store and I have to carry him out SCREAMING and KICKING? I would lie if I claim to have walked out with a smile on my face announcing to the world, "THIS IS MY BLESSING!" I get frustrated, I sometimes raise my voice, and occasionally do or say something that I later regret (and have to apologize to him for). I am human. Tonight, I at 7:30pm I had a rare opportunity. It was roughly a half hour before bedtime and instead of jumping on facebook, I decided to snuggle my boy. We read five books, laid on his twin bed together, and bonded. This is my miracle. I know this to be true, and I need to take more time to be with him. I am posting about this commercial so that you can cry with me. I hope that it reminds you the next time you see that mom, (maybe its me) leaving a department store with a screaming toddler, to appreciate the miracle...but don't tell her that in the moment. Or that it will remind you to hug your children tighter, and appreciate their breaths. They are miraculous.
 **I do not own this commercial, nor was I paid in any way to do this, but what company doesn't love FREE ADVERTISING**

*Pampers*

Beauty from Ashes

You know, I am finding that while I am able to laugh at myself I am not sharing with you the beautiful side of my life. I am so blessed. I have been married to this wonderful man for 12 years. During the pain and the trials of this all, he has stayed beside me. At one low point I offered for him to leave me for a woman who was not broken and his response was that I was perfect for him.
He has always treated me like a princess and from day one has referred to me as his Princess. He has given me the ability to love myself regardless of what my body does or doesn't do. He is by my side even in my lowest points.
During these first few years, he supported me through career changes. He bought a house, because I wanted it. He took me on some of the most memorable camping trips (remember we're broke young kids) to Osoyoos in No. Eastern Washington and to a remote camping site (we're talking drive until you run out of pavement, turn off onto the dirt road, and drive 10 more miles) near Roslyn, WA.
He also supported me in the adoption of a fur-baby named Bernard. This was our third adopted dog, and finally the one that fit us forever (we had just over 9 years with him before he passed this last fall). What a joy to always have that face looking up at me.
As you can see, even through all the grief and drama of trying to conceive, I was truly blessed. I can't imagine having any other man stand beside me. No other human being understood me. Honestly I believe that no one would've tolerated me like he did. The good memories are there, and in time they overshadow the dark days...I promise.