My Normal Children

It is inevitable when people meet us, with our 3 (almost) 9 year olds, that they start asking some questions. “Wow, you’re really young. How old are they?” “How was it having twins and a 1 year old in diapers?” “What great tans they have! Do you take them to tanning beds?” We often end up telling acquaintances that our daughters are adopted, which is often followed by, “Wow where did you get them from?” Which is often followed by me using a lot of restraint and answering politely about how they were adopted out of the foster care system. And recently, more often than not, that is followed by something to the degree of, “Oh wow. They seem so……..normal!”

Normal.

I wonder what kind of a response they are expecting to get.

“Oh wow, thank you! We had to start with them in cages, but recently we’ve let them out and yes, indeed, they are looking more and more like humans every day! It is just amazing!”

My daughters are normal. They are not rabid animals. They are not damaged goods. They are not untamed brainless bodies walking around. Do they have traumas and faults and struggles at home? Sure.

Don’t your kids?

Whether it is the up close and personal day in and day out of raising my kids or the hundreds of others I’ve seen come in and out of foster homes, the story remains the same. Foster kids are normal kids.

They laugh. They cry. They rage. They play sports. They sing and dance. They are shy. They are leaders. They love making friends. They struggle to make friends. They love ice cream. They hate being alone. They want snuggles, closeness, family, to be loved, to belong, to talk, to be heard, to be seen, to be important. 

The problem with foster kids is not foster kids. The problem with foster kids is where they have been, what they have seen, how they have been ignored and moved around and shuffled and treated only slightly more human than the trash bag of clothes they carry with them (in the best cases). The problem with foster kids is that no one has taken the time. The problem with foster kids is that we as a society have determined in our minds, whether from stories or TV shows or movie depictions or whatever else, that they are unstable humans on the brink of a nervous breakdown at any time. The problem with foster kids is that it is a SHOCK to us when we see them and think they look like normal kids.

That seems more like our problem than theirs.

I am happy to share, as are my daughters, that they were kind of disastrous when they came to us. A small redirection for bad behavior, every time, was a 2 hour crying yelling angry sad confused rebellious event with consequences and cancelled plans and so many tears from us all. Was that my daughter’s fault? Or could it possibly have been that no one, in her 8 years of life, had sat and explained to her that it was OK to feel upset and disappointed and I am sad with you and here are the things you can do when you’re upset and here are the things you can’t do when you’re upset and here are the reasons why? All she knew were bad feelings. And all she had were the natural, sinful, human responses that come naturally to us all when we have those bad feelings.

I will be the first to admit to you that foster kids coming into your home will certainly have hard behaviors to one degree or another. What a blessing that behavior patterns can change! What a blessing that our God can change and restore hearts!

If you are one of the many who has told me that my children seem normal, I am not mad at you. I understand that I have seen a different side to the system than most. I only hope that when people meet my normal daughters, it plants a tiny seed of truth about foster kids. I hope that as people let their kids become friends with my scary adopted children that the picture of normal becomes the forefront image in their minds when they think of foster and adopted children. Oh, would we open our eyes to the thousands of children out there who would LOVE to hear someone tell them that they’re normal!

An adult recently said to N upon hearing that she and her sisters were adopted, “Oh wow! Well you are just so sweet you must have had very wonderful foster parents!” To which my daughter replied, “Oh….we weren’t always like this! We weren’t Christians before we moved home.”

It is part of her story and she loves it. Some of their traumas are still being dealt with and are certainly not a laughable matter. They will overcome those just like they’ve overcome the ones they can giggle about now. G slightly enjoys hearing the stories of how she would punch her sisters’ lights out if they didn’t share their shoes with her. She gets the redemption. She gets the hope. She gets that the Lord can turn whomever He chooses, whenever He chooses.

There are a lot more foster kids out there who are waiting to hear the good news of how God can change their hearts. Would you consider allowing one of these normal children to join your family?

The Beauty of Adoption.....Myth or Reality?

I have read an abundance of foster care and adoption books. The stories are absolutely heart wrenching and breath taking. I wanted to be a part of one of those stories for so many years. The rescue, the relationship, the new life offered, the beautiful and unique bond. Unlike a child born to me, I wanted to be able to tell my child that I chose them. Before we got the girls I spent a few Pinterest sessions looking at adoption boards. And only a few, because I wept so much each time I looked through them that I was useless for the remainder of the day when I did so. For me the concept of adoption is so unique, so beautiful, so spiritual, so unnatural yet so natural because of how Christ chose to adopt us…..I just love it.

Yet here I stand, 6 months into the journey of my dreams, and being super honest: It does not feel beautiful.

It is hard for me to swallow the fact that healing takes time. That love takes time. That the lives my daughters lived before me were so wildly different than the lives they now live with me, and it will take t-i-m-e for habits to be broken and new brain synapses to be formed. It is hard for me to remember through the mom stuff….laundry, grocery shopping, meal planning, snack making, driving, more snack making, homework, one thousand I’m sorry’s and do-over’s throughout each day, that these daughters sitting at my kitchen table were not always mine. Will they be victims of their past forever? No. But do I need to parent them and have patience for them and grace for the same behavior the eighteen thousandth time because of their past? Yes. Learning to do life with ones who have never learned a healthy way before is really messy. I can’t count the number of times we cancelled a play date, or a trip to the park, or sent the frantic text, “Sorry, won’t make it, melt down over here”.

Through all of the craziness I sometimes forget to see the amazing beauty of it all. I was reminded today when talking with Paige about the pending adoption. I shared that most nights when we tuck her in, our oldest says, for the billionth time, “I can’t wait for the adoption.” We always ask, “How come?” and she always replies….”So I can sleep in your bed”. I was surprised when Paige’s eyes welled with tears in an instant and the reality of what my girls have missed out on in life hit her, again.

I couldn’t believe when they told me this summer that they’d never had a homemade cookie, let alone made cookies with anyone. They have never had a birthday party or even celebration. They’ve never carved a pumpkin or picked out a Christmas tree. All of these small things that are, in and of themselves meaningless, compiled together paint a picture, for me at least, of a childhood. Of loving family experiences. Of nurture and time taken and attention given. My daughter has never had a parent to snuggle up with in the winter, to cuddle in a fluffy, safe bed, where she could sleep soundly without the fear of what may happen in the night. She was rarely held as an infant, let alone a toddler or young child. To hear her put words to the neglect she experienced, and hear the longing for comfort, nurture, and safe love, is astounding. I was so thankful today that Paige heard the depth of need in the simple child-like request and reminded me that there is so much beauty in the mess of everyday.

It is not neat and there are no tidy bows, but I cannot believe that I get the chance to help these little ones experience life, feel love, and find the unconditional acceptance, grace, teaching, and love of Jesus for the first time. I so wish I could share with the world the glimmer in their eyes now that they know Jesus. I wish I could record their little voices reading His words, singing to Him, and praying for each other.

I need to remember this beauty more often. I need to step back from wanting them to behave and learn right from wrong, and instead celebrate the fact that they are in my home and my life and my family. I need to take a moment to breathe and look deep into their beautiful faces and thank God that He chose to rescue them in more ways than one. So if you see me, remind me that this journey is so much more beautiful than I ever imagined it would be. And hug my sweet daughters extra tight because while I feel messy and worn, I know they are processing it all too and still learning what I already know to be true: God never wastes pain, and there is hope for each of them.   

Would You Go Back?

 

Our daughters have been home for seven weeks now and I must say, I think I pretty much have this parenting thing figured out. I really do think so! Here are a few of the lessons I have learned so far:

1.     Laugh. Laugh at them, laugh at yourself, and laugh at how glorious and unbelievable your life with kids is. Because if you don’t learn to laugh, you will cry. And then your oldest child will tell your brother in law at the first ever family gathering that sometimes when daddy gets home from work mommy goes into the bathroom and cries for two hours. (I learned this lesson around week 3, I think).

2.     I totally stink, and Jesus is totally amazing. If I don’t depend on Him, I fail miserably every minute of every day. Make the choice to abide with and depend on Him.

3.     That’s pretty much all I’ve got for now.

Really though, I can hardly believe how the time has flown and I am amazed at the massive amount of love, fears, learning, hair bows, tears, and laughter that has filled our home and new family. Nick and I often lie in bed at night and ask each other, “Is this real? Are there three kids sleeping down the hallway right now? Are we parents???” I will be completely transparent and say what an adoptive parent never should: I have wondered if we really should have done this. I have wondered if we really heard and followed the Lord. In the very trying times I have questioned everything, and while loving the girls profoundly, have yearned for the life I used to have. Sometimes I miss our peaceful, quiet evenings. Sometimes I miss having .5 centimeters of space around my body that no other human is occupying. I remember the days when my toothpaste tube had a lid on it instead of a gob of crusty remnants from a too-tight-squeeze made by little hands. I almost daily miss my hairbrush, rubber bands, bobby pins, and water bottle being in the spot I left them. I vaguely remember the days when Nick and I sat down to dinner and stayed sitting down. And ate all of our food. And talked to each other. Ohhhh man. That was nice.

But, every time our oldest, G, has a melt down, which has to be followed by a 45 minute snuggle fest and then a 30-minute conversation, she comes up to me and squeezes so hard it hurts and says, “I’m glad you’re my mommy”. And sometimes when they ride their bikes, J flies by me and yells in her goofy voice, “Hellooooo Mommy-oooooo”, and my heart fills with amazement at the reality that she is calling me mommy. And last night when I asked them all who their hero is, J said, “Daddy. Because he is so strong. And when he throws me up in the air, he can catch me”. And N has a very hard time expressing her emotions but even when she is sad, and mad, and has no words, she requests that we sit with her in her silence instead of leaving her alone. There is unspoken love and comfort. I often tell them something that of course 7 and 8 year olds know, and then stand amazed that they don’t. That no one ever took the time to teach or tell them, and that now I get the chance to. I think of when G is trying to teach the dogs something, and she spells out the word slowly for them to help them understand….and I wonder, what did I ever do before these girls? I hear 1,000 I love you’s and give 1,000 kisses and stifle 1,000 giggles every single day, as I watch them play and learn and grow. I remember how none of them wanted to go to church the first couple of weeks, and now in the car I hear them in the back seat singing about God’s love and redemption and joy. Our evenings do not have any peace or quiet. But they have explosive laughter. They have tickle fights and snuggles and life lessons. They are overflowing with love and life.

This is a wild journey. I knew it would be, but never imaged just how wild. I prepared foster parents as a profession, but was far from prepared myself. Those who had gone before me said, “You’ll never be ready”, and they were right. But oh I am so thankful that God was ready for them. And He was ready for all of this. And by the grace of God I would never, ever, ever go back.

Announcing.....

Several months ago the Lord began strongly placing foster care and adoption on our hearts. It actually started way before then, and you can read my novel about it here.

For those who don’t want our life stories, we will give a short summary.

We have been praying for years about how and when to grow our family. We decided to become licensed respite providers (to temporarily care for foster children from other foster homes) in October of 2012 to begin introducing children in the foster care system into our home. In January of this year we did respite for 3 precious little girls who needed a mommy and a daddy. They had no hope of returning to their biological family, and no families interested in adopting them. We cared for them for a few days and, although it was never in our plans and didn’t seem to make sense at first, after much prayer we were positive that the Lord was asking us to say yes to them.

This week we welcomed home our 3 daughters. They are 7 year old twins and their 8 year old sister. We cannot post photos of them on the internet due to the legal status of their case, but rest assured…..they are perfect! We will foster them for 6 or more months, depending on how the case goes, and then adopt. We are humbled, excited, in love, and beside ourselves with awe and thankfulness at how the Lord has shaped our journey. Friends and family, we cannot WAIT for you to meet our babies.

N&B

The Journey

“If you say, “Step out on the water”, and they say it can’t be done, we will fix our eyes on You and we will come”.

When I first went to Mexico at 13 years of age my life was changed. The poor and needy babies grasping for love and affection from me, a stranger, planted something in my heart that has never died. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave them there. I went back for the next 7 years. In the middle of that was the trip to Uganda that made me, again, see with new eyes. The hundreds upon hundred of orphans made me weep and I vowed that I would one day do something about it. I figured I would live in a tent in Africa and have 29,042 children. My dream come true.

Then, after our engagement but before the wedding, I remember the night that Nick told me, “I am not going to move to Africa. Ever. I am staying in America.”, and we almost ended our relationship then and there.

I think back on the drive from California to Texas after our honeymoon. Calling and calling and calling the woman I’d been hired by….wondering what day she wanted me to start my nanny job, and wondering why she wasn’t calling me back. We thought this nanny job was perfect. High paying. Starting right after the wedding and honeymoon. We were set. Our first test as a married couple was opening up the wedding card she’d sent us and finding a check with the note that read, “we wanted someone sooner and hired another nanny…..congratulations on the wedding!!!”.

Stunned. Rent to pay. New bills. No jobs. No money.

After a month of miraculous provision I was hired at Bair to do a variety of jobs in the foster care and adoption world. The job, looking back, made no sense. I was 21. Fresh out of college with no knowledge of the system and absolutely no experience. The other employee who had my job was 45 with 10 years of previous experience when she got the job. There was a steep learning curve and it was a miserable year. However, after the move to Arlington and the interview at Covenant Kids that I landed just because of my experience at Bair, I understood why I had to live through it. I did learn a lot, that’s for sure.

We’d been praying for a full 2 years about what to do about kids. Have our own? Foster? Adopt? All of the above? Which one first? We talked and talked and wrestled and made pros and cons lists and prayed and never felt direction. We both really, really wanted a baby. But the gnawing tug on our hearts would not subside, and I couldn’t help but look at all of the kids from work and start to think, “The orphans aren’t just in Africa….”.

When I say, “On our hearts”, I really mean on mine. Nick wanted to have a baby of our own. However, he has always said that working with these kids is a gift of mine and, as my husband, he believes it is his job to make ways for me to use my gifts. He wasn’t, however, open to taking in someone else’s children and calling them our own. He didn’t think he could love them like he would a child that came from us. I knew I couldn’t push him, because he would have to be on board as much as, or more than, me, if we were going to take in a traumatized baby from a hard place.

In October of 2012 we decided to do respite. Thought it would be a good way to get our feet wet with caring for kids from hard places without the wild commitment of being their parents. We got A for two weeks in November and we were undone. I really couldn’t tell you who wept harder or for longer when we had to give her back, but I will never, ever forget lying in the dark in the middle of the living room floor crying, and praying when we could, and then crying more, and then asking God why she had to go back to a hard place and why she wasn’t ours and what in the world were we supposed to do now.

Nick changed after A. In so many ways.

At our State of the Family talk on January 1, 2013, Nick said he wanted to foster. With one condition: We could do respite one more time to convince him that it was “these kids” in general whom he loved, not just A. A week later one of my foster parents called me and asked for respite for 5 days for 3 kids in 1 week. I knew I’d never find them another place to stay, so Nick and I took Friday and Monday off and we took them. I whispered to Paige the night before they came, “Don’t tell Nick, but these girls need an adoptive home. Maybe he’ll fall in love”.

The week was a little up and a little down. It was eye opening. It was a whole lot. Through it all we kept looking at these girls thinking, “It is so wrong that they don’t have a mommy and a daddy. This is just not right.”

I cried alone when they left. I knew it was different for Nick. He didn’t cry this time. But, an hour after we said goodbye, Nick turned to me and said, “ I think I miss them”.

We prayed. We talked and talked and talked and….

I always pictured adopting a little one. Maybe a year old or maybe two. When I really stretched, I thought maybe we’d adopt two, one baby and a 2 or 3 year old sibling. In my non-reality state I wanted to take every single child in Texas who needed a home and live on a farm somewhere. But who can really do that? People do things a certain way. Start with a baby, maybe two if they’re really crazy.  

As we prayed, a love for these girls grew in our hearts in a way that only God could have designed. We felt quite peaceful, which made absolutely no sense. We, for the first time, really didn’t feel all that crazy thinking of adopting them. It kind of made sense. We wanted kids. They needed a family. We had a house. Why not? The simplicity of it still frightens me a little. When we had the talk, the big yes or no talk, we realized we weren’t ready for it. We weren’t ready for three. We weren’t ready for older kids. We weren’t ready to give up our lives in an instant. Then we pictured our time here on earth and how very brief it is and how, when we really consider all things, there isn’t much more we’d rather do than this. Than give three precious babies who the world has said are unworthy the identity that God has chosen for them each that says they. Are. Worth it.

This would turn into a novel if I documented all of the steps along the way that God worked out. Every prayer answered. Every detail that I feared taken care of in an instant. Peace the whole way. The day I found out that CPS and the attorney had already filed their recommendations to the court that the girls would stay in foster care forever, never to have a family, to age out of the system in 10 years completely alone, because they were unadoptable and unwanted, is burned into my mind. That is so the world. That is so what Satan wants for us all. God looks at us and says I want them. I claim them. They are worth it to me and I will give whatever I have to. Thank you Jesus.

This is the beginning of our adoption story. I can't help but look back at our lives and see the joys, the sorrows, the confusing times, and realize it all led to us meeting our children. God's plans are so great and He has good things for us. We pray with all hope that one day each of these girls will be able to share their story of how God made beauty from ashes in their own lives. We would love for you to join us in praying for the healing and restoration of their hearts.