Yesterday, I went to the nail salon for a pedicure. Not big news, unless you have seen my feet in sandals lately. I am truly sorry if they have offended you-my last pedicure was over 4 months ago. So, yesterday I finally went to take care of my ugly feet.
I like to watch people while I am getting my nails done. Admit it, you do too. You can learn a lot from what you see and hear in a nail salon. Tragedies and dramas galore! If you do not know this personally, I definitely recommend the experience. It's not spying because you can't help hearing the stories, right? What I learned yesterday blew my mind away. It was a perfectly-timed infusion of hope for my soul. Here is what happened:
As I sat in the massage chair, holding on tight so I would not be thrown out by the sheer force of the massage-really-I watched three girls in their late teen/early twenties come in and begin to choose their nail polish. One of them was seated in the massage chair next to mine and soon I heard her calling out to the others, "I want my toes sparkly!", "Please tell him, I don't think he understands!" ,"I am sorry, I don't mean to bother you, but I am worried.", "I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry." Her slow, halting speech and her mannerisms told me that this sweet girl was developmentally disabled. The other two young women were her caregivers. They may or may not have been related to the girl, but they were clearly in charge of her care.
Each time the sweet girl called out, the caregivers patiently answered her and reassured her that her nails would be as beautiful as she imagined. Several times they got up from their manicures and came over to comfort her to make sure she was understood by the nail technician. They showed no impatience or frustration whatsoever. The caregivers clearly loved this precious girl. Then, a pretty young employee from the salon came over and told the girl how she loved the polish that she had chosen. The teen sat on a stool beside the girl and visited with her for over 5 minutes. Several other employees followed her lead and came over to reassure the anxious girl that her nails would be perfect. The girl beamed and clearly felt special and, finally, understood.
I am pretty sure that I had a goofy smile on my face as I watched. My heart was so full. Seeing the love and acceptance offered to this young girl gave me a new hope for my children's future. There are people in this world who see past the limitations and differences to the true goodness inside. I wish I could could tell the girl's mom what I saw, how I watched people loving her daughter. I think her heart would be full too.
If we all extended this type of love and acceptance, what a different world we would have. It is hard. Mental illness, homelessness, drug abuse, hurting people. Children and adults with disabilities. They are all someone's child. Their mothers rocked them, loved them, and had hope for their future that was dashed away somehow. Extending ourselves and trying to understand is much easier when people are just like us. What I saw yesterday truly hit me hard. I believe I was in that place at that time for a reason and I am grateful.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Saturday, July 19, 2014
My Supporter
When Toby and I began the journey to becoming foster parents, and eventually adding to our family through adoption, we were required to participate in a "home study" to determine if our family was equipped for the job. The process was long and involved and the questions delved into our own upbringings and our marriage. During one of the certifier's visits, he asked us, "Which one of you is the Driver?". He clarified his statement by saying that in every couple he has certified, one spouse was the Driver and the other was a Supporter. Ok, no question, I was the Driver. Foster care was my idea.
I was never one of those teenagers who loved kids and who babysat every weekend. Not at all. I knew I wanted children, but I did not dream of a large family. I surprised myself after our first two daughters were born by very much wanting a third. And then, about 5 years after Jordan was born, God starting to whisper in my ear that we were not done. What? How, not done? Toby and I were not able to have more biological children. What was God thinking? Then, it came-foster care. When I shared my thoughts with Toby, he agreed to complete the classes and home study required for us to become certified as foster parents. Foster care cannot work unless both parents are committed and we were, just on different levels.
Fast forward a few months and Toby is stating that he cannot imagine the baby boy who has been in our home for one week ever leaving us. He was hooked, completely in love with a skinny, slobbery, sweet little boy. I don't know what would have happened if the story had ended poorly and that baby boy's future did not include us. Would we still be foster parents? I am not sure. But Joshua is 14 now and he has blessed our lives beyond description. I firmly believe he and his brother, Levi, who came two years later, were meant to be our children from the very beginning
We have been foster parents for almost 15 years now and it is the hardest thing I have ever done. Toby and I have asked ourselves often, "Who would choose this?". Who signs up for disappointment, sleepless nights, property damage, hateful words from broken children, and the heartbreak of watching the impact of abuse and neglect on the innocent? Who wants to work with a system that does not always keep kids from harm? I am not sure if we chose this, or it chose us? Still, we continue. I continue to be the Driver and main advocate and caregiver for the children, but Toby is more involved that I ever expected and he has had my back through long, frustrating, heartbreaking days and nights.
This week, Toby has made two 500-mile (each way)trips. The first, to take a child to stay with Grandma for two weeks on a beautiful lake where there are no chores or siblings to share attention with. The second, this weekend, to pick the same child up again when his anxiety prevents him from being away from home any longer. Both trips were made with no complaint or resentment. My husband, the Supporter, has embraced the children in our home with all of his heart. He has such a huge capacity for love and his actions speak to me of how much he loves me to continue this work when we could and should be empty nesters like many of our friends. He has made such a sacrifice, for the children of course, but also for me so that I can live my dream.
Our experiences with the foster care system could fill a book, but who has time for that? I am too busy wondering what is next for us and trying to stay one step ahead of our exceptional children and their needs. Whatever is next, I will have my Supporter by my side and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Enjoy your weekend:)
I was never one of those teenagers who loved kids and who babysat every weekend. Not at all. I knew I wanted children, but I did not dream of a large family. I surprised myself after our first two daughters were born by very much wanting a third. And then, about 5 years after Jordan was born, God starting to whisper in my ear that we were not done. What? How, not done? Toby and I were not able to have more biological children. What was God thinking? Then, it came-foster care. When I shared my thoughts with Toby, he agreed to complete the classes and home study required for us to become certified as foster parents. Foster care cannot work unless both parents are committed and we were, just on different levels.
Fast forward a few months and Toby is stating that he cannot imagine the baby boy who has been in our home for one week ever leaving us. He was hooked, completely in love with a skinny, slobbery, sweet little boy. I don't know what would have happened if the story had ended poorly and that baby boy's future did not include us. Would we still be foster parents? I am not sure. But Joshua is 14 now and he has blessed our lives beyond description. I firmly believe he and his brother, Levi, who came two years later, were meant to be our children from the very beginning
We have been foster parents for almost 15 years now and it is the hardest thing I have ever done. Toby and I have asked ourselves often, "Who would choose this?". Who signs up for disappointment, sleepless nights, property damage, hateful words from broken children, and the heartbreak of watching the impact of abuse and neglect on the innocent? Who wants to work with a system that does not always keep kids from harm? I am not sure if we chose this, or it chose us? Still, we continue. I continue to be the Driver and main advocate and caregiver for the children, but Toby is more involved that I ever expected and he has had my back through long, frustrating, heartbreaking days and nights.
This week, Toby has made two 500-mile (each way)trips. The first, to take a child to stay with Grandma for two weeks on a beautiful lake where there are no chores or siblings to share attention with. The second, this weekend, to pick the same child up again when his anxiety prevents him from being away from home any longer. Both trips were made with no complaint or resentment. My husband, the Supporter, has embraced the children in our home with all of his heart. He has such a huge capacity for love and his actions speak to me of how much he loves me to continue this work when we could and should be empty nesters like many of our friends. He has made such a sacrifice, for the children of course, but also for me so that I can live my dream.
Our experiences with the foster care system could fill a book, but who has time for that? I am too busy wondering what is next for us and trying to stay one step ahead of our exceptional children and their needs. Whatever is next, I will have my Supporter by my side and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Enjoy your weekend:)
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Parenting
I have been flooded with thoughts about parents and parenting lately. I think of all of the different types of parents I know-parents of adult children, parents of children with special needs, adoptive parents, foster parents, birth parents, stepparents, new parents, and parents of children who were taken too soon. Every one of these groups have something in common regardless of the path each is traveling. They handed their hearts over to their children on the day they met them and will never be the same.
Parenting is so hard. I don't care who you are, if you are a parent you have struggled at one time or another. Or every single day. We all talk about how rewarding it is to have children and how much joy they bring into our lives. That fact is public knowledge, but we often don't admit how HARD the job is. Remember when you first had your children and you thought the job of raising them was an 18-year term? Right. Me too.
We could not have realized back then that once we hand over our hearts we will never call them our own again. Adult children harvest as much worry as little ones do, it just has different roots. We are just as helpless to heal their pain as we were were they were an infant with a fever or a teenager with a broken heart. Knowing this has given me a whole new brand of respect for my own parents who chose to adopt me as an infant and have parented me for 46 years so far. And for my birth mother who gave an unimaginable and painful gift to her newborn child and the family waiting for her. That is HARD.
I don't know what your particular struggles are, but I want you to know that I care. When I see or hear of a parent going through a challenging period, I want to tell them, "It is not your fault". Why do we always blame ourselves and each other? It is what we do, I guess. There is no room for judgment here, though. Who can know another's parenting experience? I firmly believe that almost every parent is doing the best they can with what they know. When we know better, we do better.
We are in this together. Parenting is honestly the most life-changing, rewarding, surprising experience I have ever had. I truly feel it is my calling. I just want us all to agree that it is HARD and to reach out a hand to each other when one is in need. I wish we had a universal sign we could use to support one another through the tough times. For now, though, if you see me around town, just know that I know.
Parenting is so hard. I don't care who you are, if you are a parent you have struggled at one time or another. Or every single day. We all talk about how rewarding it is to have children and how much joy they bring into our lives. That fact is public knowledge, but we often don't admit how HARD the job is. Remember when you first had your children and you thought the job of raising them was an 18-year term? Right. Me too.
We could not have realized back then that once we hand over our hearts we will never call them our own again. Adult children harvest as much worry as little ones do, it just has different roots. We are just as helpless to heal their pain as we were were they were an infant with a fever or a teenager with a broken heart. Knowing this has given me a whole new brand of respect for my own parents who chose to adopt me as an infant and have parented me for 46 years so far. And for my birth mother who gave an unimaginable and painful gift to her newborn child and the family waiting for her. That is HARD.
I don't know what your particular struggles are, but I want you to know that I care. When I see or hear of a parent going through a challenging period, I want to tell them, "It is not your fault". Why do we always blame ourselves and each other? It is what we do, I guess. There is no room for judgment here, though. Who can know another's parenting experience? I firmly believe that almost every parent is doing the best they can with what they know. When we know better, we do better.
We are in this together. Parenting is honestly the most life-changing, rewarding, surprising experience I have ever had. I truly feel it is my calling. I just want us all to agree that it is HARD and to reach out a hand to each other when one is in need. I wish we had a universal sign we could use to support one another through the tough times. For now, though, if you see me around town, just know that I know.
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