The Bad Horse... giddy up!

Here is where I tell you that my husband has been traveling a lot and my youngest son loves to ask questions. We explain thoroughly that Daddy is going on an airplane, and then he'll be home. Each and every day, consistently, he would ask where Daddy was, and if he was on an airplane. Then when I'd say, yes, Daddy's on an airplane right now, or will be tonight, my little Hero would run around with his toy airplane making whooshing airplane noises and pretending to fly.

This is where I'll backup and mention that my little guy has a Hero's heart and wants to fly, especially like Superman! He thought if he had the right cape on, he could actually achieve flight so for his safety and my sanity, we had to have a very real conversation on why he can't fly.

Me: Honey, you cannot fly with your cape. You cannot jump out the window or down the stairs, your cape will not hold you.

Jacoby: I fly!

Me: Um, no honey. Hey! Do you have wings?

Jacoby, after spinning in a circle to try and see if there were wings on his back, agreed that he didn't have any. He told me rather shocked, "They're gone!" because clearly wings either fall off or they are stolen. Think he remembers being in heaven before he came to Earth to be mine?

Me: Yes, your wings are gone, Sweetie, so you can't fly here. Just jumping.

My little warrior is clearly a Commando Man and is in the business of knowing what he knows and clearly it's Superman's cape that does the work. Mommy said he couldn't fly, but that meant nothing of the cat that sat so naively in the shopping cart of his. After sending the cat (and cart) down the stairs, he happily announced that Ty was "really, really FAST!".  Please know the pet was uninjured and we did discuss using other's lives as our experiments.

While my little hero's Daddy was away, he'd pretend and play with his toy airplane and helicopter each and every day. While adding that into his play, he has become enamored with cowboys lately. He tells me cowboys have guns, they have lassos, they rescue and they have bad horses. Bad horses?! Yep. Cowboys get the bad horses.

One bright morning Jacoby comes into my room and says his customary "Good morning" and then follows into a long one sided discussion about going somewhere that day and how Dad was going to have to take the purple car, he would ride the airplane himself, and I'd get the bad horse and we'll all meet up. I would have thought nothing further about this, but in another discussion Jacoby assigned me the bad horse again. When I questioned him as to why I didn't get to fly the airplane or drive the purple car, he said in no uncertain terms that I get the bad horse. This was definitive for him.

I guess my little guy things I'm a cowgirl. I have a lasso, a gun, and I ride to the rescue on my bad horse.

I guess a girl could do a lot worse, right?

'Stuff' Cleaning

I am working on cleaning out an entire room in the house. That means closets and any other hiding place to keep stuff. You know, stuff that you don't know where to put but feel you need to keep. Stuff that you feel obligated to keep but have no where to place. Stuff you think you like, but not enough to display and give a place of honor to. Stuff that's tied to a past and holds a memory and you fear losing that time and memory so you keep that stuff too. Oh, and let's not forget the stuff that you stash in your hiding places because you simply don't want to deal with it right now and it's easier to say 'later' knowing full well you'd rather just not go there at all, ever. Out of sight, out of mind. Right?

You know, my closet seems to resemble a bit of my heart. Stuff I hold onto because I'm not sure where to put it or what to do with it and I'm too afraid to just throw it away. Stuff I feel I should have in my heart for various reasons, stuff I think I need to keep, but not enough to make it a part of my every day living. As if not displaying it would keep that stuff from not spilling over into my life, right? And of course, stuff that I hide in the corner of my heart under a shelf because not only do I not want to deal with it, but I'm not confident I know how to.

While I cleaned out every hiding place in the room for stuff, I found the Lord cleaning out some of my heart too. Remember those half written-in notebooks I spoke about earlier in my blog? Yeah, I found one. Well, I found many but one spoke to my heart immensely. One the Lord clearly had me write down so that I could find it now. A note the Lord wrote through me, to me. How loving is that? I praise Him that He never changes and we can count on that. I need to count on that.

The entry is dated December 12, 2008. The specifics don't matter, but I was in deep grief over a very hurtful loss in my life. Here is the entry:

  ....I've just returned K* to her mom. I felt peaceful and got to hand her over myself. It was remarkably rewarding. Although the very nature of the ministry of foster care is continual loss, God sustains. He gives peace and comfort where it is needed.
 
       You are all I need.
       You sustain me.
       You comfort me.
       You give hope.
       You give life to dreams.
       You ignite desires and teach me to pursue them.
       You show the path of holiness.
       You desire my best and the best for me.
       My obedience You refine.
       My eyesight you make clear.
       My surrender You make all.
       You are all I need.

   ....My heart hurts, Lord. Comfort my heart...

Remembering this, reading this, was encouraging to me. I needed to hear it. I needed to hear, once again, that although I have moments when I feel I am made of fragile porcelain and my heart is smashed into pieces, it's ok. It's a reminder that this world is not our home. We will never find fulfillment here. We live in a fallen world and horrible things happen. But God loves us, and He rescues and comforts those that belong to Him and are called His. He is the focus of all things and I needed to remember that.

Hurts come and hurts go. Happiness comes and happiness goes. I remain and I survive and I get through because I rely on the Lord to keep me and at times, carry me. I can get through anything and I will never do it alone. Never alone.

God is good.

All the time.

Book Review Part 2

Parenting the Hurt Child: Helping Adoptive Families Heal and Grow
By Gregory Keck, Regina M. Kupecky & L.G. Mansfield
304 Pages


This book is actually a second book written by these authors, and although I will go back and read the first for information (the topic is attachment), the reason I chose to read this one first was that I wanted the practical, every day information to help me help children affected by trauma of any kind. I was looking for the nitty-gritty do’s and don’ts and why’s and how-to’s that experienced individuals could offer me. Enough therapists and theories and science for now. (I’ve read so much of that lately!) I wanted to read from a Mama and Papa that loves their children, whether they are a part of their lives for one day or for every day coming to them as a family. These authors are therapists and despite that, they come across as loving and concerned, well-researched and experienced.

This book is sectioned by well-defined chapters and if that isn’t helpful enough, they have an index in the back by category should you need to reference their wisdom later for specific issues. The book is easy to read with no need to have a dictionary on hand to place clinical terms into lay-mans terms. Although I am not un-educated, I really appreciate the “we’re in the trenches with you” feeling that comes across while reading. With a quiet space and a cup of coffee, you get the feeling you’re speaking with an experienced friend who is willing to invest their knowledge in you.

The information found and received was very helpful to me and I find myself still thinking on it and mulling it over, even a week after reading. They had no easy answers for anything, as working with hurt children is simply not easy, but they offered encouragement and words of wisdom that spoke of the children being worth any and all efforts given. I love that they make it clear that it’s “normal” that your family is  no longer “normal”. Having traumatized children in your home makes your family different and those that have not worn these shoes will simply not understand, and that’s ok. Parenting traumatized children is simply not the same as parenting your child from birth who has fully bonded and always been secure. The difference is like night and day, and I really appreciate the insight that is offered alongside some examples of mistakes as well as successes.

I’ve come away from this book with a lot of really good pictures of what is really going on inside the head of someone doing/saying something that doesn’t make sense to me. This was important to me, as I can’t count how many times I held a screaming/raging 4 year old and simply cried in my heart, “what makes you, you?”  or simply feeling at a loss for not understanding, but desperately wanting to. I simply want to understand so that I may be more effective in caring for the little friends that come through our house.

Four year olds cannot put into words what these adults have written, but I’m so grateful for the peek inside the ‘workings of a hurt mind’ to see what is going on.  I loved the encouragement to keep trying, to keep pushing through, to keep on keeping on. These children are worth it, and with the practical advice given, I feel better prepared to help these little people. That, is very useful.

Book Review

I know, I know. It's been a reeeeeeally long time since I last posted and although I have a pocketful of reasons to offer, I shall keep them to myself. All you need to know is that we as a family are in a hard season, and myself as an individual am in a hard season on many fronts. God is faithful and the valley is important to experience to fully appreciate the mountaintop.

Today I have to offer two opinions on foster care and adoption books that I read to gain not only more knowledge, but hours of increased learning and training for our license upkeep. Just in case you are a foster parent and are reading, here you go.

When a Stranger Calls You Mom
By Katharine Leslie, PhD
235 pages

I’ve been chewing on the material I read in this book for a while now, and I’m fairly certain I’ve reached an opinion on this book, although I reserve my right to change my mind as this book left me re-evaluating and/or confirming some personal viewpoints. Although I wouldn’t say that I’d not recommend this book to other foster and/or adoptive parents I’m not sure I’d go as far as to say I would recommend this book. I’m left on the fence. It has challenged me to think and consider my views which is a great goal of any piece of writing, but it also has various downsides, to which I will share in a moment. Overall, I guess I’d leave it as an option to read for dedicated, experienced foster parents but I would not go out of my way to address it as a resource. I think offering this book up front to brand new ‘recruits’ would scare them away. Honestly, if you’d suggest I read this before ever actually experiencing foster care myself, I’d have picked up my feet and run the other way. Seriously.

On the positive side for Ms. Leslie, she has multifaceted experience to offer. She lauds herself as a “Social Services Consultant, Professional Trainer, Parenting Coach, and a Mother of 4 adopted Children”. She also has a PhD in psychology and child development so she really knows what she’s talking about.

In her writing she offers some examples of what she’s talking about and that is helpful. She draws from experience as well as science for her reasoning and viewpoints. She expresses herself clearly and has a very good understanding and handle on what is really going on. She has a very good ideal as to how foster care should operate. About 75% through the book she offers some really good advice that can be incorporated into a family that is working with a troubled child.

As to the points that I did not like in this collection, my first and foremost criticism would be her constant use of technical terms. She just can’t let them go. Really. She used a ridiculous amount of very large words and plenty of scientific terms to make sure the reader is hung up on trying to understand her and follow what she’s saying instead of simply assimilating the information offered. Her target readership is foster parents. Surely she should know time isn’t a cheap commodity among that group, so she shouldn’t waste it! I’m sure this wasn’t intentional on her part, but it makes for a frustrating read. Fortunately for me I have come across many of those words before in prior reading and research I’ve done so I did not need to spend copious amounts of time looking up the meanings, this go around. I’m sure this is a pet peeve of mine, but annoying none the less!

Secondly, she spends the first 40% of the book going over terms and definitions and groupings and development timelines and yada, yada, yada. None of that information was enough to give a good feel for the subject as each of her headings could be a book of information unto themselves. In fact, they are. My opinion is that she should have taken an assumption that those reading the book understood the basics, or had been extremely brief in reviewing the information. She used just enough information to drive me crazy trying to read it, but not enough to be in depth. Again, lucky for me, I’ve read several of her topics in other books by other people. I really put this book down over and over again because I struggled to get through her information. The book is dull and overly sober.

When all is said and done, although she has adopted four children with extensive backgrounds from foster care, the overall feeling left me when I was done with the book was a sense of anxiety and a feeling of “why bother?”. I’m definitely sure this was not intentional on her part as she does state she is dedicated to her adopted children and loves them very much. She does, however, state in clear and terrifying terms just how much people can mess up their kids and the socio-paths they can become because of it despite the attempts of adoptive and/or foster parents to intervene. She states several times that love is simply not enough and it is unnecessary to mention it just so many times.

This book gets one thumb up, one thumb down from me. The scant few pages of practical advice that is given is a gem; the overall depressing attitude is unwarranted.

Livin' la vida LOCO!

As in, living the crazy life! Taz sure does see to that!

I've been caught under the weather due to a virus going around and it's slowed me quite a bit. Some children have compassion and keep things toned down. Then the other type see and opportunity and seize it. My little Jacoby is one of these types. Carpe Diem is a life motto for him it seems. Good qualities for him to have, I'm just aiming to survive his childhood.

I awoke this morning with a medicine induced broken fever so I was a bit sluggish going through the morning routine. Taz noticed immediately and placed his life motto into action. While I was filling cups and setting up for the morning, I missed a few components of the morning routine that are vital. I forgot to lock the bathroom and I was delayed in securing the gate on the stairs.

After finding the house rather quiet and knowing this isn't right with Jacoby awake I began that sinking feeling in my stomach. I was on immediate search duty because silence in his world isn't a matter of if he's into something but what he's into. I found him in the bathroom and he was all smiles and proud of himself. He declared he was cleaning and showed to me what he cleaned. He wiped down the sink, the toilet, the floor, the wall, the door, and himself. Gladly I did away with dangerous cleaners because of his propensity to lick surfaces such as windows, floors, doors, couches, cats and siblings. I use a vinegar cleaner to make sure he is safe. (Not to clean the cat, naturally.) Of course he didn't get his hands on that. Nooooo. He found the air freshener I keep in the bathroom to, uh, freshen the air. He sprayed all the aforementioned surfaces, including himself, and declared he'd cleaned the bathroom as well as declaring he'd taken a bath.  Giving credit where credit is due, the kid is efficient.

Not much later, after putting breakfast on the table I figure it's awfully quiet. I went searching and found nothing. No Jacoby. I spied the open gate. I ran downstairs and he has the television on and he's pointing the Wii remote at it and pushing buttons madly. He declared to me it was broken and needed batteries. Or to be turned on, but hey, why disagree with the kid? I shooed him back upstairs into the safer zone for him. I say safer because there is no Jacoby-proof room unless it's padded and empty.

At lunch time I go looking for my missing Taz and he's emptied his entire dresser onto the floor. Really not feeling well and annoyed to have to help him clean this mess up, I am one to find a silver lining. I was definetely grateful that he did not remove all the drawers from the dresser this time, entombing the cat in the stacked pile, or pull them out in a stair stacked fashion and climb to the top of them. Again.

Here's where I tell you I see a pattern fashioning. I should simply stop preparing meals for the children and Jacoby won't have reason to get into trouble. That, or tie him to a chair while I work. We do have some unused wire ties in the tool closet....

After lunch, I had to repeat myself that he should not throw his strawberries out the living room window. I do think at this point we'll have an impromptu strawberry patch out there. I had to tell him not to put his elephant out the window too, but at that point he'd figured out the elephant wouldn't fit out the window. Something about having to say that just feels wrong.

After his nap, he awoke quietly and decided to go play in Mommy's bathroom. After all, it was unlocked. I walk in there to find him with my new tube of toothpaste in one hand, a toothbrush in the other and globs of toothpaste all over the floor. I asked him what he was doing and all he said was, "Mmmmm." Apparently I should switch his toothpaste flavor. I called in Rea and Jacoby looks at his Daddy and says, pointing to the floor, "Oh! It's mess!"

I did ask my husband why he didn't lock the door and his response was that Jacoby was sleeping. I just shook my head and smiled. In any other household, that would be reasonable.

I opened my email a little while ago and saw a quote that a friend shared. It was so perfect for today that I laughed!

By Jerry Seinfeld: "A two year old is kind of like having a blender, but you don't have a top for it."

Amen to that!



Psalm 21:6
For You make him most blessed forever;You make him joyful with gladness in Your presence.

I'm Ready!

The other night Rea came home long enough to change his clothing and get something to drink before heading back out of the house to an appointment he needed to be at. This schedule left no Daddy-Taz play time unfortunately.


While Rea asked our oldest son if he was ready to go, my little Jacoby patiently followed behind his Daddy throughout the whole house. With a broad smile he repetitously said "I ready. I ready, Daddy. I ready."


He had no idea where Daddy was going, no idea how long he'd be gone, and no idea what would be asked of him once he got there. But he didn't care. His Daddy was going and that was all that mattered to him.


May we all maintain the simple faith of a child and answer our Lord with the same answer on our life journies.


I'm ready, Lord.


Proverbs 8:32
"So, my dear friends, listen carefully; those who embrace these my ways are most blessed. Mark a life of discipline and live wisely; don't squander your precious life. Blessed the man, blessed the woman, who listens to me, awake and ready for me each morning, alert and responsive as I start my day's work. When you find me, you find life, real life, to say nothing of God's good pleasure. But if you wrong me, you damage your very soul; when you reject me, you're flirting with death."


John 12:26
"If any of you wants to serve me, then follow me. Then you'll be where I am, ready to serve at a moment's notice. The Father will honor and reward anyone who serves me."

Photo Shoot Attitude

I've decided that I was specific photos on my wall of my children and since I am very specific and uh... particular...and uh...precise about what I want, I figured why bother someone else with my vision, right? That, and I'm cheap. Do you know how expensive it is to get a group shot of 6 kids and then individuals of them and then actually purchase all that? Holy bankroll, Batman!

This is where I decided that I'm now a photographer, because it can't be that hard, right? I mean it's just a photo!

*sigh*

I was humbled in my attempts. My failures drove me to research some good pointers for novices like myself that feel they need to drive the photo shoot and want to save some poor unsuspecting photographer the headache time.

Armed with ideas and a day that is overcast but not raining, I figured we'd get this down! I am proud to say that 5 of the children complied. Some needed some cajoling, but overall they complied. Then you have my 2 year old that doesn't do anything he doesn't want to do and lately, thinks it's hilarious to not comply with Mommy. *sigh* At least he usually giggles when being difficult so I figured it was a win-win, right? Uh, no.

Here is when I sat him on his spot and asked him to please smile for Mommy. Clearly this was a very hard request.

Since he didn't want to sit, I figured he could stand! He didn't want to do that, so we tickled him. Apparently that was torture too.

We continued to play games with him, and since he likes being swung around and hung upside down, I figured we could at least try it. Perhaps if he smiles upside down, I could just flip the picture, or leave it... he's an odd duck anyway. It worked and he just couldn't resist laughing. He is such a smart cookie and knew what I wanted and was absolutely determined to make sure it didn't happen. Just like any good natured 2 year old. So here's what he did:

Wait, it doesn't end there! I tried some more while on the swing. I begged. I pleaded. I tried tricking him. *sigh*

May Mommy please take a picture with you smiling in it? At this point I'm aware that the background is too busy and I can't use this for my wall, but it's the point of getting a smiling picture now.

No is what he said:

Of course I tried bribing him. As you can see from this picture, it wasn't good enough. He does think he's funny though. See the smile he's trying to hide?

I'm a pretty funny Mommy so I got him to smile, but because he couldn't resist me he made sure he didn't look at me.

He finally complied. I won! WOOOHOO! Of course I still don't have one usable for my wall, but I won him over!

Yeah me!!