This is Real Family

"Which ones are real siblings?"
"What happened to her real parents?"

Sometimes I forget that many people don't consider all my children to be "real siblings". Many people (including many in"the system") don't consider foster parents to be "real" parents either or our family to be a legitimate family.

 I understand why there are a lot of descriptive qualifiers included in our family but inside my house, in the monotony and simplicity of daily life none of them exist.  We are Mom and Dad, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters.  Every once in a while a prefix must be used in a conversation with a child regarding their family of origin, or to clarify for someone who wants to better understand how our family is constructed.

Biological, adopted, foster, adoptive, temporary, long term, permanent ward all have meaning but none of them make what we do less "real" they are not a part of our everyday language.  We don't categorize the children in our family.  We don't segregate or make those distinctions.  Whether I care for a child for 2 weeks or 20 years they are family.  While they are under this roof I strive to love that child as fiercely as any child born from my womb. Sometimes when people hear those qualifying prefixes they stop seeing a real family and imagine relationships that are forced or pretend.

The depth of the very real relationships within my home also do not negate the role that biological family/parent will always have. Even if that role has never actively been a part of the child's life. It is still something to be respected and honoured.

From my vantage point I see a pack of brothers and sisters doing what brothers and sisters do. I see a Mom and Dad doing what Moms and Dad's do.

I watch two sisters playing "ring around the rosie" over and over in my kitchen giggling hysterically as they fall to the ground together.

I see a big brother get down onto the floor on his belly to cheer on and coach a baby brother as he learns to crawl.

I break up yet another fight between a sister and a brother who are each convinced that the other has "ruined my world".  I take away the ipad and remind them that Minecraft is pretend and relationships are real.

I witness those same two siblings later in the day with their arm around each other as they play.

A two year old begs her teenage sister to make her "pretty", which means she wants big sister to put her makeup on her and do her hair.  She sits so patiently as she gets a makeover and then runs upstairs to announce "Princess!" She often asks for that same big sister to come tuck her into bed at night, or read her a book.

I get to see a little girl jump up on the lap of a Daddy she bears no physical resemblance to, wrap her arms around his neck and then ask for him to bounce her on his knee for a horsey ride.

As a Mom, I feed, nurture, soothe, change, wash, teach, train, comfort, scold, and remind. I do these things literally 24 hours a day. Never do I stop what I'm doing and remind myself that I'm not really parenting but only pretending.

These kids dote on each other, they tattle and bicker, they play, and they protect. Because they're family.  It's really not as complicated as the rest of the world wants to make it.

They may not all share DNA but they're siblings in every way that matters on a day to day basis.

I sometimes forget that much of the world doesn't always see foster families, or even adoptive families, as "real".  Then I read or hear something and it jars me back to the reality that others aren't looking through the same lenses I am. They haven't witnessed the truth that plays itself out inside my home every single day.

We may not all be related by blood but we are bound by our commitment to love each other, even when someone takes the last bowl full of popcorn, or wrecks our really awesome Lego creation. Even in the heart wrenching and painful things that come with being a foster family.

Being a "real family" is simple, even though being a foster family is complicated.  Every situation is different.  Some children have a long history and strong bond to biological parents.  Some children have never met their biological parents and came into foster care or their forever family at birth. Some children have regular visits with birth parents and will soon return to live with them. Some have never had a birth parent even request a visit and will remain with a foster family, maybe the only family they have known. Some will be adopted into a permanent family and some will sadly move from home to home.  As a foster parent I have been called "Auntie" and I have been called "Mommy".  That nuance of role didn't change how I loved them or mothered them.

We don't live in a world of ideals as foster parents.  We exist in murky greys, hard truths, and crawling through broken shards praying that God will take all these jagged pieces and make something beautiful.

There's something about uncertainty that forges deep bonds.  A gnawing awareness that time is short or that an unexpected phone call could turn all our lives upside down and leave us struggling to merely breathe gives love an urgency and an intentionality.  We know all too well that "later" and "maybe someday"  is a luxury we can't afford.  We linger, we savour, we pour in and pour out and give it all knowing that tomorrow is not guaranteed and that when a child leaves they will carry those moments with them. We force ourselves to let go and pray it will be enough.

Could it be that people think strange (or impossible) something they just don't understand and haven't witnessed?

That's why it's a good thing for foster families and adoptive families to be seen and heard.
 When your church, your social circle, your community and your child's classroom has families like this and you see how very normal this family is...despite a mix of physical traits and complex histories... your mind and heart might just be stretched and challenged to regard this family as very "real".


 God brought each one of us together including my husband and myself.  Commitment and choosing love over selfishness keeps us here.  Love makes us a family.

{Roman rescuing Cece who climbed a short ways up a climbing wall and started to cry, too afraid to move or let go of the wall}  

{Brothers enjoying a summer swim}

{some sibling playground fun}

{Silas keeping little sister occupied on a rainy camping morning}

{Just a larger than average real family}

If your church's only response to the orphan crises is sending groups to an orphanage, there is a problem.

I'll explain the strange title of this post eventually, but first I want to tell you about something we had the privilege to witness.

Last night our church family rallied together to help bring a beautiful 11 year old girl home. She is currently in an orphanage in China and has cerebral palsy. The family leaves next week! This is a complete miracle and amazing story in itself. From their first home study visit to their travel time was 3 months. That's crazy fast enough to leave their heads spinning and funds drained. 

All we did was organize the fund raiser...it was everyone else that showed up with big hearts and open hands. We had 72 people show up for the steak night dinner. I'm not sure of the exact total amount collected was since there were some donations in envelopes and some that came later but over $5500 was raised. That's not bad for one small church family and a handful of other family friends.  We had dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, we could come away from the evening with $2000 to give this family.  

God is so good. 

I know I belong to a very generous church family that lives out the gospel they preach but sometimes I'm still just blown away. The room was packed with young families living pay check to pay check, college students, immigrants, other adoptive and foster families, limited income retired folks, some who have more, some who have less..... all came to joyfully give, knowing all they have comes from and belongs to the Lord.

This is Jesus' people.
I'm brought to tears over it still.

Not everyone can adopt or foster but everyone who takes the name of Christ has a role in caring for our worlds most vulnerable.

Now we are all excited to welcome this newest child home, and welcome her into our church family. 

My heart is swollen from last nights display of love and generosity.  My heart still constantly aches for all the children still waiting to be loved.  Two very conflicting emotions that leave me inspired and driven to keep beating this same drum that all children deserve to be safe, protected and loved.

I will be living out that mantra, and waving that flag, until the day Jesus takes me home.

I've written about orphan care in the past and how I think that the Church needs to do better than we have.  That's not to say that churches around the globe aren't mobilized and filled with people who are bringing children into their homes, speaking on behalf of the voiceless, and working tirelessly to affirm the value of each child's life but there is still a long way to go, a lot of Christians sitting on the sidelines, and one specific paradigm that needs to shift.  

Please take some time to watch this documentary on orphan care methods and how we can address the crises of so many vulnerable children wasting away in institutions, bouncing around foster care, or at risk of abandonment due to poverty.  Please listen as experts in orphan care from around the world discuss their dream of a complete paradigm shift in how we, as the Church living out the gospel within local church communities, care for vulnerable children. 

The dream is that orphanages would become a relic of history and that every child would have a family of their own.... Preserving their own biological family unit, placement with a close relative, or a permanent loving adoptive family or guardianship.

The practice of putting kids into orphanages stopped a long time ago in North America. How can we justify exporting, or even just supporting, that outdated and harmful method of childcare to other nations?

Warehousing kids just needs to stop.  Although I don't want to focus as much on the mantra that orphanages need to close as much as we need to challenge our brothers and sisters around the globe to step up to the plate and care for vulnerable children.  Children need a family.  Period.  That's the way God designed children to be raised.  

I couldn't agree more passionately with this video regarding orphan prevention and permanency.

The Church needs to be on the front lines of "best practice" when it comes to caring for at risk children.... not a century behind clinging to detrimental residential orphan care practices.  

Residential, institutionalized child care is fraught with so many problems. Even the "good""reputable""Christian" ones.  Whether we call it a group home, a children's home, or an orphanage it's all still various shades of the same spectrum.  This documentary discusses many of the problems that come with residential orphan care.  They're right.  As an adoptive parent, a mother who has been fostering for 8 years, and former orphanage staff I whole heartedly agree. 

 I've seen these issues played out before me while I lived and worked at an orphanage.  Every problem addressed in this video, and all the problems I addressed in my blog post here were a major problems there. My own observations, and experiences, are not at all isolated but normative with institutionalized care. The more I inquire, talk to people, observe "aged out" children, and study orphan care methods the more I'm utterly convinced of this.  

As Christians we need to do better.   We need to do better with our money and the ministry/orphan care models we choose to support.  I would even dare to suggest that in many cases our well intentioned donations to "orphan care" ministries actually make the orphan crises worse.  

We must not do nothing....but doing something wrong isn't acceptable. 

This is a discussion those who care about vulnerable children need to be having.  These are changes that must be made in the way we think about caring for children.  

In Canada we have a dark stain in our history.  It's called "residential schools".  I think there was some shred of good intention that created them but they are a tragic example of why institutions raising children is a horribly devastating idea.  Of course there are some differences between Canadian First Nations children being taken from their families and placed into residential boarding schools and current orphanages around the world but many of the motives, methods, and harmful consequences overlap.  In Canada, the effects of that breaking up of family units still lingers. When a system decides that children who are perhaps living in poverty or who may be lacking educational opportunities with their families of origin, would be better off living in an orphanage, group home, or other institution....something vital has been missed in the equation.  Children must have love, nurture, stability and a family to call their own.  Without that any food, clothing and education means nothing.

   Taking (or luring) children from vulnerable families to fill up orphanages or residential schools is reprehensible.   Of course there are occasions when a child is being abused, severely neglected, or is totally abandoned.  Not every biological parent is able to parent. As a foster parent, I know the painful reality of this well.  When dealing with real world brokenness and vulnerable children there are no real cut and dry answers but rather a lot of nuanced partial remedies to complicated and tragic individual circumstances. 

What we do know needs to remain constant as we weave our way through the mess of this sin wrecked world, proclaiming life and redemption into the darkest corners.   

Children need families.  They need to belong and they need to be loved.  That's foundational to every aspect of child development.  That's how God designed children.  That's why he instituted family.  

There is something new happening within the church, and in many countries that are beginning to realize that something must change.  Fledgling foster programs are beginning in places like Mexico and Belize as well as around the globe.  The Church needs to be on the front lines of those changes.  Local national churches must be taught, equipped and challenged to view children differently.  They are not someone else's problem...they are ours.  

The North American Church, where so many resources exist, needs to consider how we can care for "orphans" in our own cities as well as how we can help globally.

We must evaluate where our North American resources are going and pursue ethical movements to keep children in families of origin, or to have them placed within a healthy, loving family units.  Let's choose to support families that are on the front lines of new in-home, family based initiatives in developing nations.

If your church's only response to the orphan crises is sending groups on mission trips to an orphanage there is a problem. 

It's not malicious, just short sighted and narrowly focused.  You may be missing out on so many opportunities to create a culture within your church that proclaims that every child deserves a family.  The Church must affirm a self sacrificing, gospel centered, willingness to open our own homes as well as support adoptive and fostering families.

Children are worth it.  They are worth getting out of our comfort zone for.  It's important enough to ask the hard questions and dig for answers.  

An Exhausted Mom's Survival Guide

Self Care is a topic I have very little natural interest in.  In all honesty any time I hear people talking about "self care" I think about Oprah type motivational speakers, or ladies ministry groups painting flower pots and I want to gag.

I realize it may seem odd to make that assertion and then proceed to write about the topic.

I find in our culture today we are inundated with "self".  We are implored to love ourselves more, to exult ourselves higher,  and to put our own needs ahead of those around us.  It's everywhere, even drilled into every child via innocent cartoon characters.   "Just follow your heart" and "Believe in yourself" are the theme of most every children's program I overhear my little one's watching.  After a while I just find it nauseating.   Self love, self esteem, self preservation, self glory self...self...self...me..me...me...blah...blah...blah.

We are raising generations of completely delusional, hyper-sensitive, narcissistic nut balls who expect the world to validate and celebrate their every whim, desire or thought.  Social media has only poured fuel on the fire of self worship.

Biblically speaking we are commanded to love others as we love ourselves.  This is making the assumption that we already naturally love ourselves. We generally don't need to make it a goal or put any effort into it.  We are selfish by nature. Even when we serve others we are tainted by self serving motives and hopes.  If anything our problem is not a lack of self love but a distracting preoccupation with it.  The command is to love others and love God.

Because I need regular reminders to set aside my own bent toward selfishness and self preoccupation I avoid most topics of "self" altogether.  Simply because they often wander down that trail.
I'm convinced that my own joy has little to do with how much comfort, luxury, and ease my life contains. I'm also convinced that rather than seek to focus on ourselves more, we are far more content when we get over ourselves.

That being said as a caregiver to many small people, including children with various health considerations and special needs, I can't ignore the topic of self care altogether or lump it together with all the other nonsense.  I've been trying to figure out what does a healthy concept of "self care" look like for me, while also being committed to caring for others?

I'm going to back up a little and let you in on what started me thinking about this topic.

In about November of last year I hit a wall.

I'm naturally a push through, tough it out, do the next thing, and take the next step kind of a person. I'm really great at ignoring flashing warning lights, making another cup of coffee, and muscling through.  Tired is just a normal state of being when you have six children but cumulative months and years of stress, demands, sleep deprivation, and constant busyness had started to take their toll.  I entered a new state of exhaustion that I could no longer afford to ignore and I had nothing left to push through with.  I guess burning the candle at both ends only works until it melts and you burn your fingers on two flames.  Then you have no choice but to drop what's left.

It's hard to explain unless you've been there.  Completely drained to the dregs. I became so overwhelmed with the energy it took to just muddle through the day that anything extra expected of me was next to impossible. Just the thought of getting the kids out the door and into the car took more than I had to give, and anyone with kids knows there is always somewhere to go and something that needs to be done.   I seriously felt like the gravity pull had increased exponentially and like I was walking knee deep in mud.

My mind was a fog, my spirit was dull, and my body was weak.
Totally done.

So, that began my self assessment.  I've always viewed my body as a sort of a functional machine. Something of value that was given to me as a gift and that I need to steward well.  Clearly I wasn't doing a very good job.

In Hebrew there is a word "Nephesh".  {soul, self, life, creature, person, appetite, mind, living being, desire, emotion, passion}.  It encompasses what it is to be human. Our "nephesh" makes up our whole person. When any of those components of who we are is undernourished or wounded the others parts suffer as well.  When multiple facets of who we are become drained we're in trouble.  A downward spiral can happen relatively quickly and the more exhausted you become the less strength you have to pull up out of the nose dive.  Sometimes all you've got left is a weak cry for help to a God who hears and knows. Weakness is not something that should be feared, in fact in understanding our own weakness we are made strong.  My problem is remembering to stay connected to the one who will continually fill me as I pour myself out.  I unwittingly cut myself off from the Creator of "nephesh" and the source of life.  Before anything else I must nurture my affections for Him and remind myself of who I am.

I should clarify that I am naturally a very low maintenance girl.  My idea of a manicure is using a pair of nail clippers when my nails start to get in the way.  I have had a pedicure once in my 38 years of life.  I get my hair cut and highlighted twice a year. I absolutely hate shopping. I'm not much for fashion, or dressing up, or beauty products, or going out on the town.  I'm a home body who enjoys very simple pleasures. I think it's harder for people like me, those who don't require or expect much pampering to take care of themselves.  My idea of "Self Care" may look very basic and unspectacular.  But it's the basics that are essential.

Here are a few very simple things that can help pull us out of that nose dive of exhaustion and complete burnout.  These may seem painfully obvious but sometimes the obvious needs to be said. I know I will need to review and assess on a regular basis.

1.  Rest.  This seems the most obvious but at the same time can feel the most impossible.  There is a difference between getting much needed sleep and soul satisfying rest and rejuvenation.  Sometimes we  just desperately need alone time like lungs need oxygen, particularly if you're an introvert surrounded by hyperactive extroverts like I am. It's hard for my husband to understand this need since he is energized by being around other people.  I need silence and peace.  I need to wander and slide around in my own thoughts.  I need to sit in silence and pray. I need to not be needed or beckoned by anybody every once in a while. I occasionally need to drink a cup of tea or coffee right to the bottom without having to warm it up in the microwave.  To me that is restful. Maybe that's why I enjoy late evening when the house has gone quiet.  Sadly this need for quiet aloneness competes with my even greater physical need for sleep.

2.  Sleep.   I generally feel guilty if I take a nap and consider it a waste of time but sometimes making a nap a priority is a necessity not a luxury.  I'm horrible for putting myself to bed on time.  Mainly because of #1.  I so cherish that hour or two between when the kids are tucked away and when I drift off to sleep.  Self discipline is helpful in this area, and too often self discipline is something I lack.  As mothers we cannot control what our nights will be like because we are on call 24 hrs a day.  That may mean waking with a baby every two hours for months on end.  That may mean unexpected sickness, nightmares, wet beds, or children crawling into my bed and sticking their little feet in my face.  Sleep is a precious commodity.  It must be carefully guarded and sought after.  Every once in a while us night owls need to force ourselves to go to bed early.  Without sleep everything else starts to fall apart.

2. Take care of the machine.  Basically, don't neglect basic maintenance. Go to the dentist.  Get a physical and some blood work done if you chronically feel horrible and exhausted.  Make (and keep) that chiropractor appointment if you are living with chronic back and neck pain.  These are all things I added to my calendar this winter. I have had some health issues lingering for years that I have just never bothered to get to the bottom of. This advice can seem so obvious but I think it had been years since I had gone and got a check-up for only myself. It can be such an logistical inconvenience, if not next to impossible, to make appointments like these that they just get put off indefinitely.  Too often it just doesn't seem worth it unless it's an emergency situation, but I can't take care of others very well if I don't take care of my own health. So much of our health is completely out of our control, but we should do what we can to maintain the gift of health we have been given. That leads into my next point.

3. Nutrition.  It's a fact that a person who is chronically sleep deprived and exhausted will crave sugar and empty calories.  The body is desperately trying to find fuel to keep moving.  I can attest to this.  When I'm feeling my most depleted my natural tendency is to reach for simple carb filled calories and caffeine in an attempt to soothe emotionally and find energy.  This is part of the downward spiral that I have to resist.  I now try to begin the day with a smoothie packed with nutrition rather than a quick piece of toast, bowl of cereal, or just a cup of coffee. It's a quick and easy way to sneak in stuff my body needs. Good nutrition doesn't need to be fancy, gimmicky, or expensive,  Get some protein, even if it's a simple boiled egg at breakfast.  Eat fresh fruits and vegetables.  Make sure you get some healthy oils in your diet. Take some extra supplements if you feel you're lacking in certain nutrients (for example Calcium).  Vitamin B supplements make a difference for me as far as energy goes.  Make sure you're getting some iron rich foods.  All of these little things can take a few extra minutes or some planning but you will feel better if your diet doesn't consist entirely of scraps off your preschoolers plate and chocolate stashes in your closet.

4.  Fresh air and movement.  For some reason this one is hard to do.  Maybe it's because for several months out of the year I live cooped up in a house inside a giant dark freezer.  Going out for "fresh air" is not that fun, and I hate the cold.  Maybe it's because the thought of bundling a gaggle of little people up to go with me is overwhelming. Now that the weather has turned toward Spring I am trying to get out and go for a walk (usually pushing a stroller and corralling a five year old on a bike).  It's not exactly a work out routine but it's a baby step toward feeling more alive.  Now that the daylight is starting to stick around longer my goal is to go out after the Little's are in bed and start jogging again. Since my Junior High years I have been an on again off again runner.  The "off" has mostly lasted for the past several years.  I've always had good intentions to start up again but it wasn't until I broke my leg a year and a half ago that I really realized I had been taking my legs for granted and hadn't been using them to their best potential.  Recovering from that injury forced me to become even more sedentary and then I kind of got used to not seeking out physical activity like I used to.  It's a cycle I hope to break this Spring and I'm really hoping my formerly injured leg can keep up!  If I can't run I at least want to do some brisk walking.  Oh good Heavens, I sound old! Maybe I should take up shuffle board or horse shoes.

5.  Take time for something that you enjoy.  Something that recharges your batteries, something that makes you feel like more than just a "mom, something that relaxes, inspires or challenges you.  The concept of an actual hobby actually illicits chortles of laughter inside me.  It's right up there with sleeping in.  It seems like a ridiculously wild and unrealistic dream but it doesn't have to be extravagant.  What floats your boat?  Take an art class, join a sports team, or go to a movie alone. Try doing crafts (that is SO not my idea of fun...but to each his own), writing, hiking, gardening, blogging, scrap booking (ACK! even writing that stresses me out), taking photos, visiting with friends, reading....it could be anything really.  Find something that will make you feel like you, and make some guilt free time for it.  Totally easier said than done though. With this one I really have to resist developing an attitude of entitlement or demand "me-time" when I need to be giving others my time. That attitude of entitlement to "me-time" can create life sucking resentment, impatience, and general grouchiness. That attitude doesn't foster peace, gratitude and generosity.  So, we do need to carve out some time for simple pleasure and fun, but not at the expense of letting the truth of the gospel fill and refresh us as we continue to give of ourselves. That is a much stronger and less fleeting foundation. I find that the more I focus on "me-time" the more I resent anything that gets in the way of my little kingdom of self.

6. Feed your mind and soul.  Keep learning, keep growing, and keep pushing forward into the grace fuelled sanctification process.  Stretch your mind, learn to listen and discover new perspectives on various topics of interest.  I'll be honest with you.  Parenting turns my brain to mush.  Maybe even literally.  Some days I can't even remember my own phone number. We need to put something into our minds that will push out the Frozen song lyrics, and mind numbing chatter, and remind us that we are in fact adults.  Read, study, and pray.  When you don't have any moments to be still and quit, play music that will feed your soul or put on your headphones and listen to podcasts that will stretch your mind and nurture your affections for Christ.  What we put into our hearts and minds is as important as what we put into our bodies.  Guard it and feed it well.

7. Accomplish something.  I know that adding something else to the forever looming unfinished "to-do" list doesn't sound like self care but after the previous things are taken care of, venturing into this goal can actually make a difference.  Something small and doable.  Something that has been hanging over your head, or something that you have never made time to do but would either enjoy doing or feel satisfied having done it.  I'm not talking about the giant looming mountain of laundry that you never see the bottom of, or the endless rounds of dishes, or any other routinely mind numbing chore.  Something outside of the usual.  Something that actually has a start and a finish (unlike most other things we spend their time doing).  Being a full time at home mom (which I realize is a rare thing these days) can leave me feeling like I accomplish nothing while at the same time always being busy.  It can be psychologically draining and defeating after a while.  So, whether it's refinishing a piece of antique furniture, planting some flowers, or cleaning out a closet, the feeling of accomplishment and a job well done might just put a spring in your step.  This shouldn't be something to add to the weight of your oppressive list of things you failed to get done...if possible it should be something that you can escape into for a while and feel good about doing.  An example of this is I recently took the time to put a few of our trips to Baja Mexico into My Publisher photo books. Precious family memories and digital photos were tucked away in an external hard drive and had never been put into any hard copy format that could be enjoyed.  It was a bit tedious and time consuming but this was something I have been wanting to do for years.  I thoroughly enjoyed sifting through old photos and creating something that would help preserve some great family memories.

8. Change the scenery.  This will admittedly take some physical energy to pull off.  Whether it's trading the sweat pants and T-shirt streaked with kid snot for some "I get to leave my house today" clothes and just going out for a cup of coffee, or going on a little family vacation, sometimes a change is as good as a break.  Even if you have all your kids in tow. So often we just need to get away from the looming mess that is our house, the distraction of internet and phone calls, and the stress that our "to-do" list holds.  We need to see new things, experience new places, and be reminded of so much beauty around us.  We need to be reminded that we actually enjoy our children. Sometimes a change of location and scenery helps to clear our cloudy vision and mirky attitude.

9.  Make some changes.  Living in a constant state of stressed out exhaustion is not sustainable.  It's not healthy or helpful.  You may think you're pulling it off but the ulcer, high blood pressure, or weight fluctuation will expose our self deception.  I believe we can live lives that are graciously poured out, used to their fullest, and filled with beautiful life giving sacrifices without being overwhelmed to the point of burn out. I'm not sure I have that equation figured out.  Sometimes we just need to say "no" to more non essentials.  We need to let go of some "good" things for something that is much better.  Our kids don't need to be in every activity, sport, or lesson under the sun.  Limiting  extra curricular activities and commitments is an easy way to reclaim family time and some sanity.  Be careful what you choose to volunteer for.  We need to be willing to serve and minister to others but we need to be intentional and focused in how we use our time.  I cannot be on every committee, attend every meeting, or join every club.  This year we made some changes to our daily family dynamic and for the first time in 5 years we have all our school aged kids attending public school.  It may be only for a year or two and we may have more home based educating in our future but this was a change we all needed. This isn't a post about homeschooling so I won't get into the details of that but after weighing some pros and cons the scales tipped into the favour getting some of the kids out of the house and into a respite school. So far it has been a positive year for everybody, and has made me thankful for the years we were able to spend investing into our kids at home.  When it comes right down to it, you may just need to adjust your expections and standards.  I love a clean and organized home, however I am outnumbered by 7 people who do not have that standard as their goal and, in fact, try their very hardest to create the opposite.  Someday my house will be tidy and quiet.  Until then, I won't waste my time and energy fretting over it all the time.

10.  Ask for help and accept offers of it.  I just plain suck at this one.  Not gonna lie.  That's why I put it the very last.  What I know to be true, and what my pride allows are often two different things. We were created to live in genuine, grace saturated, vulnerable, community with others. We can't do this thing alone.  As Christians we were not saved to live solitary lives but rather into a body of other sisters and brothers who will help to shoulder our load and speak truth into our dull and weary hearts.  When you are faced with more unique parenting challenges like parenting a child with a disability, learning disorder, or some other special need seek out others who can relate and who can help equip you for the daily grind.  Encouragement, experience, humour, understanding...these are all life lines when you are in the trenches of parenting a child with special needs or navigating the crazy world of adoption and fostering.  All parents need encouragement and support regardless of the specifics of each family dynamic.   It doesn't matter if you're a brand new mom learning how to parent your first child, or an older seasoned mom with a house full of teenagers.  Parenting is tough stuff.

Carry on soldiers.

Now I must go finish the supper dishes and go to bed.

The Other Mother

"Mommy, why didn't I grow in your tummy?"

Questions like that have the ability to stop the rotation of the earth for just a moment.  Tucked into the mundane business of an ordinary day comes a question that leaves you breathless and makes your mind spin for answers appropriate for an inquisitive little girl busy planning her fifth birthday party.

When we first decided to adopt our daughter someone asked us "Will you tell her she's adopted?"

That question left me dumbfounded and suppressing many sarcastic responses underneath a polite "yes, of course we will tell her".

The other option is that we could just keep it a big family secret, that everyone knows about, and hope she doesn't figure it out.  I mean the fact that she looks completely different than her parents could simply be genetic coincidence right? Or maybe we could sit her down on her 18th birthday and with long drawn sober faces explain that her life has been a fraud.  I knew we would tell her but I didn't know how.

Things have changed a bit in recent generations.

We knew this was new territory that we would need to navigate carefully but yet we had some time to figure it out as we moved forward.  That buffer zone of time elapsed very quickly.

I resolved early on to create an atmosphere before I needed to give explanations.

Our strategy was to lay a solid foundation of love and security.  A foundation strong enough to support all the hard things later on.  A foundation that will support questions about identity, belonging, and purpose.  The winds will come later in life, and may leave some marks, but the foundation will remain untouched.  We are her family.  She belongs.  She is loved unconditionally and eternally. She was beautifully created and her life has purpose.

  Even before she could talk I was giving her vocabulary.  I was building those stones into our family structure. Words like "adopted", "coming home", and "forever family" have become as common in our vernacular as words like "born"or "stop chewing with your mouth open".  We intentionally normalized adoption language and the concept of adoption long before our child could define those things.  Our motive for that is to strip those words of their power to shame, divide, or alienate.  It isn't her identity or a label and we aren't obnoxious about it.  It's just a part of our life and her story.

We have surrounded our foundation of security with an atmosphere of normalization.  Before she had any idea of what "adopted" meant, she recognized the word and associated it with being loved.  Being a multi-racial family has added another element to that atmosphere as we intentionally normalize and celebrate our unique qualities and the diversity within our own home.  From the children's books on our bookshelves to the wide variety of different shades and colouring of dolls in our home.  Our positive normal includes a lot of different.

She loves to hear the story of her "coming home" day and will sometimes ask "Mom, can you tell me about the day you got the phone call and came to get me".  I go on to describe all the inconsequential details about the day we got a phone call, quickly packed a diaper bag and drove into the big City.  We met a beautiful 1 month old baby girl with wavy black hair and gorgeous black eyes and we fell instantly in love.  The big sister and big brothers were so excited to meet her and we all loved her endlessly.  That's a summary of the story she has been hearing for the past few years. It's always a happy story that leaves a little girl snuggled up and content in her Mommy or Daddy's arms.

She also loves to look through pages of her baby book which showcases her first year in our family, as well as a handful of photos acquired by others before she came home. In that first page filled with photos I did not take I included a photo of a woman with wavy black hair and dark eyes holding a new baby in a social services office.  It is the only picture we have of the only visit that ever took place.  As I glued that picture into place, unsure of the wisdom behind my action, I trusted that it was right.  After all, this is her story not mine.  I am just the memory keeper.  I am the one that tucks away bits of information and gives dignity now to parts of the story that will hold many hard questions later.

Miss Cece knows this photo.  I've never gone into details, pointed it out, or tried to explain.  I follow a little girls lead.  She is smart though.  Almost too smart.  Lately we have begun to build some information structure on top our foundation and inside our atmosphere of normalized vocabulary.  Not too much too fast, but just enough to satisfy.  Nothing too heavy for a young heart to carry. Simple answers to potentially gut wrenching questions.

A word I have hesitated to use until just this week is "birth mother".  Maybe it creates some insecurity in my own heart.  Maybe I'm afraid that she won't understand and that doubts and fears will creep like rock crushing roots into our carefully laid foundation.

The other day my little girl was sitting on my lap and we were reading through a children's encyclopaedia describing all different body systems, and organs.  I turned the page and discovered a whole section on the development of a baby in the womb.  Both of us captivated, we read through each little bit and discussed the pictures of a baby growing bigger and bigger inside the safety of it's mothers womb.  It was both sweet and sad as I was reminded that I did not carry this one within the safety of my womb.  She belonged to the other Mother then.  Her first Mother.  Her birth Mom.

These photos sparked questions. Questions I hadn't planned to answer that day.  Questions about who's womb she grew in.  She pieced it together by herself and ran to find her baby book.  A quick reading time through a children's encyclopedia had turned into flipping through pages of her baby book and giving the woman with wavy black hair a name, and a title.  Birth Mother.  That's how important conversations happen with our children.  Sacred and profound moments tucked into the monotony of an ordinary day.

My dearest daughter:

You grew in her womb and then you came home and you grew in our arms.  Before our eyes you continue to grow and we love you more with each passing day. You have two Mother's.  Both are real. The woman who carried you in her womb will forever be connected to you.  There are things you share, and time you spent, that will remain between the two of you.  Regardless of circumstances and heartaches (and my wishes that I could rewrite certain chapters of the story), there is a certain dignity and honour in position.  I will always give that respect to your birth Mother, a woman I have never met in person.  I thank her for the gift of life she gave you, and us.

I am your Mommy.  Nothing will ever change that.  I am not a pretend mom or an artificial imitation of one.  We are family.  Real family.  We may not share genetics but we share our lives.  You are no less my own beloved child than if I had carried you in my womb. I remember the day we brought you home as one of the best days of my life.  I didn't know it then, but I was receiving a priceless gift. A tiny girl who would one day become my daughter.  A daughter who is delightful, joy filled, and a ray of sunshine.  A daughter who I am proud of and look forward to witnessing grow into a woman of character, strength, and secure confidence.


For a 5 year old little girl that's enough to chew on for now.  She is satisfied and content.

As the years go on, little by little, more details of her story will be unwrapped.  More questions will come and more answers will be carefully navigated.  Some questions will be left unanswered simply because I don't know. We will be there with her, and for her, as she someday decides what she wants to do with the information she has.

Rarely a day goes by that I do not think about my children's biological families.  I carry them in my heart and prayers.  I feel the weight of their loss, as well as my children's. Even though they do not know it, and I can't fully explain it or understand it, they are a part of our family too.

What I know breaks me to the core but I keep it tucked away as important pieces of a puzzle that she will someday be empowered to put together. The picture that it creates may have some very dark corners but I trust that it will be a beautiful display of redemption and God's grace.

That is how we tell our daughter she is adopted.

When the ordinary is extraordinary

Last night as I sat and watched a Christmas concert at the same school that four generations of my family have attended, I was struck with a sense of awe that something so ordinary was actually quite exceptional.  

Two Christmas's ago, we were preparing for our trip to China. The past two years have been challenging, wonderful, mundane, stretching, and incredible.  Both ordinary and extraordinary.  

Two years ago we adopted a child that was considered worthless, at least by a culture in general.  In his 6 years he was abandoned as a toddler, found by police, lived in two different institutions, and lived with multiple foster parents (whom I thank God for!).  In his most recent institution he was classified as "bed ridden" and remained in a crib night and day.  The short bars of the crib where walls of his cage.  He watched other children, who could walk, wander around and even go outside. I know now how much he internalized that.  He is so very aware that his body just doesn't do what he wants it to do, and he is extremely aware when he is treated differently because of that.  Hyper aware even. I've listened to many heart wrenching, tear filled, rages that eventually come back to him screaming things like "I can't walk!" "I have bad feet!" "I hate my hand!""bad guys come and I can't run away!".

   He was viewed as defective and treated as something without value by so many.  Inside a little boys heart that turned into a deep self loathing.  He also has an enormous amount of fear and a perpetual hyper-vigilance.  He has not yet realized that we will never ever abandon him.  We assure him of that truth daily, but still, the fear is there.  Just this week, after his first trip to Costco with Mom and Dad, he had a melt down/ panic attack in the parking lot.  Complete with retching, shaking, and sobbing.  I noticed he looked pale and somber while we shopped but it wasn't until after his meltdown, when he found his words, that I understood just how terrified he had been.  Even after two years of us assuring him through our actions and words that we would always be his parents he thought this might be the place where we leave him, or the ever present "bad guys" might finally find him.  As we drove home afterwards he asked for constant reassurance, and then when we pulled up into our little town he looked like the weight of the world was taken from his shoulders, like he was honestly surprised that we had brought him back home.  He thanked us over and over for bringing him back home again.  He was convinced Mom and Dad had taken him to the City to leave him there( when in fact it was for various therapy appointments).  The reality of that fear is heartbreaking.

Two years ago we pursued a child who could not walk.  We had hopes that he would be able to walk with assistance but we didn't dream that he would become and independent walker and be able to stand unassisted.  We chose a child who had quite severe developmental delays, although we had very little idea (and still don't) what that will mean as time goes on. 

He was considered unadoptable by many...and an unlikely choice by most.  Even our guide in China asked us "didn't they have any better kids for you?" Basically, "how did you get stuck with him?".  Various people in Canada have asked us the same thing...although with a distinctly Canadian sort of tact and veiled in polite conversation. While in his home country we witnessed the stares aimed at him, and the looks of disgust.  We endured it with him for only a short while.  He endured those sneering glances, and long awkward stares for years.  He was told by words, actions, glances, and body language, time and time again that he did not belong.  He was not worth it.  

So last night as I sat in the front row, holding my camera, watching an elementary school Christmas concert I was watching something spectacular.  So spectacular that it was completely ordinary.  

I watched my son stand unassisted in the front row for multiple songs.  He beamed as he did the actions, caught as many words as he could, followed the teachers promptings like a hawk, and gave me a thumbs up.  I could see how hard he was working just to keep his balance.  I knew his feet were hurting after an already long day of school. 

For the first time in his life I witnessed him just be one of the pack.  He completely blended in.  He was just a kid.  Not a kid with equipment.  Not a kid with a disability.  Not a child adopted from China.  Not the kid who is three years older than his classmates. Just him.  Just a kid waving at his very own Mom and Dad and singing about Santa. 

I was so thrilled for him!

He stood bravely on stage, in front of rows filled with people, and did exactly what he was supposed to do.

I don't know that I have ever been more proud.

His teachers and the other children at the school have been so great.

One thing parents of kids with special needs know is that moments of "ordinary" are completely extraordinary.

This week as we visited a centre dedicated to serving children like Elijah and were assessed by very kind professionals and therapists, I realized again that we are so very fortunate to live where we do.  We have so many resources available, and there are so many people who want to see him thrive and reach his absolute fullest potential.  In so many other countries, people with disabilities are treated so poorly.  Families are left with no resources and are often encouraged to abandon the child. He could have lived his life within the bars of an cold, harsh, institution.  He could have ended up being used as a prop by someone who would exploit him, being made to sit on a dirty sidewalk and beg for pocket change.  He might have never learned to walk, or known secure love.

But. God.

This was just another huge reminder that his story is being rewritten.
Those hard things are being redeemed.

Bite me "Bed Ridden".  

There's no holding this boy back.

A Non Pinterest worthy birthday fit for a Princess

I was going to do a photo brag-book style post about my birthday girl,

but I kind of did that in my last post.

In an attempt to be less redundant and more useful I will throw in a little birthday advice from a professional   mediocre party pooper  planner.

First of all my daughter is amazing, beautiful and delightful. 

There is just something about four year old girls that make you want to cling tightly to what's left of their "little girl" phase.  

The princess dresses, tu-tus and rubberboots will only be a faint memory in a few more years.

I want her to feel loved and valued and birthday's are a great time to really make a child feel special. 

That being said...

I suck at everything else that goes along with birthdays.

I have to admit it.

I have gone through phases where I try really really hard not to be a lame birthday planner but I find birthday parties exhausting, unenjoyable, expensive, and irritating. 

I've pulled off some pretty awesome cakes and stellar parties...

but they almost kill me.  Seriously. 

Even at my best, my kids parties are super lamo compared to others I see on Pinterest, Facebook or  friends parties.

I've decided to be ok with that.  

I don't envy their skills, begrudge them amazing parties, or feel any sort desire to try to keep up.

My children seem to be ok with that too.

I know she looks terribly deprived and miserable in these photos but trust me when I say that she was over the moon elated, and basking in her own glory, the whole day.  

From the  $10 birthday gift from Mom and Dad.

to the $5 video from her siblings.

to the super cute rubber boots from Grandma and Grandpa, 

and her fu-fu Walmart "birthday dress".

(...and a book)

She was thrilled, ecstatic, and reveled in each moment as she tore open wrapping paper in sheer delight.

She cherished each item.

How, do you ask, does a child who has no friends attending...no goodie bags...no games...no ponies or clowns or bouncy houses...and a really lamo cake... react with such joy?

Well personality might have something to do with it...

but expectations are the key.

I have a running joke with my husband that we succeeded in keeping and meeting their low expectations.

Then we high five each other after each mediocre party met with excitement and elation.

If every holiday is an over the top event filled with gluttony and consumerism...you have to keep adding more and more to impress your child.  In the end you set yourself for failure and you child for disappointment.

Even worse, chronic discontentment and greed.

I'm going to admit a few things to you.  I deprive my children in a few key areas.

My kids don't get "Easter baskets" at Easter.  

No, I don't have a moral problem with them or parents giving them...I just don't think my kids need a basket full of crap in order to honor the significance of the occasion.  Also, they cost a lot of money to fill.  I despise the store isles filled with festive junk months before every "holiday". It's a big money making scam. Even if I had wads of money I don't think I could will myself to wade through the pastel piles. 

 Of course I could make and design all kinds of inexpensive, meaningful gifts to give to them in a basket...but..

Ain't nobody got time for that.

I'm content in my cynicism.

My kids don't get Valentine's gifts.

We may or may not bake cookies, depending on my mood and our location on that day. Period.  The end.

If my daughter receives a red rose from her Daddy, or they get a special chocolate treat...it will be just that.  A special treat given out of love.  Not an obligatory purchase because the calender tells me I must.

We rarely ever have dessert in our home and I generally only buy icecream for birthdays.

When a birthday rolls around (which happens 7 times per year) just having cake and icecream is a big deal.

This year I found "birthday cake" icecream.  It's blue and white and has sprinkles in it.  To top it off the container has pictures of candles and birthday festivities on it!  It's super gross and the kids love it. Nothing says "party" like blue icecream.

I'm telling you friends, it's all in the build up.  

I put a $4 box of "birthday cake" icecream in the freezer, the kids look at it longingly for a few days, and by the time the party rolls around it's a pot of gold.  Pure, it only cost me $4, gold.  

My budget for each kid this Christmas was $40.  

When you multiply that by five, it adds up. It's still a significant chunk of cash considering that's what a field worker in Baja makes in about four long days of work, and considering that our house is already filled with toys that don't get played with.

Each child had one gift from us, some small gifts purchased (or made) by siblings, and a few little stocking stuffers.

(and not every gift was new, or reached the $ limit)

and no we don't "do Santa".

The part that might surprise you is that my kids were super stoked and very grateful the entire day.  

It was enjoyable.

We generally keep birthdays simple.

I've worked hard to make the occasional birthday something memorable and set aside my own disdain for party planning to make my resident party planner (Aili) feel loved.  Occasionally I have packed my home with rambunctious children that are not my own in an attempt to create "fun"...

but for the most part our birthdays are a special family supper at home that includes cake and icecream for dessert and a few gifts.

Quite often Grandma and Grandpa are the only guests.

This year Silas' birthday fell in the middle of a kitchen remodel.  

He got donuts, corn dogs and a movie on our TV.

Cece's birthday came only days after our return from Baja.

Hello exhaustion, unpacking and general re-entry chaos.

This was all I could muster.

A cake-mix, hot dogs, and a Minnie Mouse table cloth.

She LOVED it.

The whole day she pranced around in her special "birthday girl" dress, 

she served her cake to her siblings and grandparents,

and she soaked up every "Happy Birthday".

Here's another lazy mom hint.  A gift can double as a cake decoration.  

Which also provides a distraction from the sprinkles gone wrong.

TA-DA!

Minne Mouse was on the table, 

and there are yellow streamers hanging from the ceiling (thanks to big sister who loves to decorate) so it must be a party.

Someday she might look back and think some of her birthday parties were slightly lame, and eventually she may wonder where the bouncy castle and ponies are....but  right now she feels adored.

I suspect she'll remember feeling treasured longer than she will her party decorations from her fourth birthday.

Bottom line is, 

if you want kids to be content with less stuff....

give them less stuff. 

Everything about our society tells our kids that they are little gods.  

Our culture tells them that their value is determined by what they have, and that love can be bought.

It's engrained into them early on that their happiness and pleasure is of utmost importance...and they are entitled to anything that will serve that end.

Phooey on that.

Bah humbug, as it were. 

I used to be slightly embarrassed by my kids wearing hand me down clothes, 

and their $10 budget birthday parties.  

but not anymore.  

I'm so over it that I thought I'd share my tricks of the trade in keeping my kids expectations nice and low, because there is just something very freeing about having children who get super excited over "treats" like a Walmart dress and icecream.

Happy 4th Birthday Miss Cece!

Four years ago a little treasure was born, 

without any elated announcements, or pink glittery gifts.

Instead, her birth was met with scrambling, and case worker phone calls.

Although I had no idea at the time that my daughter was making her way into the world, God had been preparing our hearts to receive this gift.

Today we celebrate the day of her birth.  We honor the woman who nurtured her life and allowed her to be born.

Too many babies are denied that chance, which makes this celebration of her birth so much more poignant.

She came home when she was just 5 wks old, but we didn't dare to even hope that someday she would be ours.  She very quickly became "ours" in our hearts, but it took three long years for her to be be legally ours as well. 

A totally unexpected gift.  A precious treasure.

A traumatic delivery, a tragic loss, a week alone in the NICU, a month in a "Baby group home", and symptoms of narcotic withdrawal had left this sweet little girl resistant to comfort, detached, and extremely fussy. 

I sometimes wondered if I was cut out for this responsibility. 

The relentless "job" of caring for a baby that was not my own. 



As the months passed this fussy little newborn grew into a content, cheerful, secure, and interactive baby.

Miss Cece and her Daddy have had such a special bond.  She is most certainly a Daddy's girl.





This little girlie has a quick smile and a ridiculous giggle.

She loves animals.  Any kind or size.  No fear at all (even when she should have it).

She loves to play with her siblings and her friends.

She's a natural caretaker and nurturer.  She is affectionate, sensitive and dramatic.  Spunky and Sassy.

A self professed Princess.

She loves well.



She can be delightful, and she can be frustrating enough to make me wonder if I'm cut out for this responsibility.  This relentless "job" of being Mommy to this beautiful little girl who is now my very own.

One thing I know for sure is that I am so extremely grateful for the chance, as well as for God's grace and guidance to try to be the Mommy she needs. 

I am so thankful that we said "yes".  One unexpected little phone call during the rush of an average day.  So easy to ignore. 

It would have been so easy to make excuses, to be "too busy right now", or to give in to nagging doubts and fears.  I honestly don't know how I didn't, other than the work of the Holy Spirit preparing me to set aside my self preservation and receive this unexpected blessing. 

Miss Cece you are a joy.   

Lovie, we are so thankful for you and proud of you. 

Happy 4 th Birthday my sweet little girl, who is growing up into a big girl too quickly!