Ouch

We are in the process of starting therapy. The kids are all undergoing a full blown trauma assessment, complete with questionnaires and activities designed to show their response to stress. Simon and Smiley completed theirs a few weeks ago and now Sarah and Stella are undergoing theirs. 

The assessment is going to take longer for the older girls. They have been slower to open up about their feelings. They are each reacting very differently which means we are going to have the same at home when they start attaching and healing and feeling safe with us. 

To be honest, I'm not really looking forward to that. I know that angst will be directed at us. And a large amount at me because I'm the safe Mom. I'm not the Mom who isn't working her case plan. I'm not the foster Mom who ceased contact. I am the stable Mom. The one who shows up every day. 

As we were waiting for their session to begin Sarah was playing "Guess My Favorite" with Stella. She asked, "Who's my favorite Mom?" Her answer was Sheila. 

For 1/2 a second my feelings were deeply hurt. And then after a proper internal chiding, I was grateful it wasn't the foster mom who asked for no contact. (Who had now requested contact again so I'm sure ill be blogging about that at some point.) And then I felt bad for thinking that as well.

Of course her biological Mom is her favorite Mom. It's her mother. That's why her answer should be. And this beautiful little girl had no idea how little her Mother is doing to get her back. And she is not aware, that after only four months, I love her as if she were my own. That I think of her as my own because the case looks like its heading toward adoption. In her eyes, I'm a poor substitute for the Mother she longs to be with every day. 

Stella, ever the oldest child, said to her "well maybe you need two favorite Moms" in an attempt to spare my feelings. I said nothing and did not react. 

I forget how real this gets. But it was that moment today that I realize how much I do care about these kids. How I think of them as mine. That is how I will advocate for them but also how my heart gets broken. It's scary to be here again. But I survived it before.

For Good

This evening took place a few weeks ago. I delayed posting so that I could link some things but also because I felt it was too sad for the week leading up to Thanksgiving.

So clearly, I'm in a sad place. I was also PMSing in the last week so I was probably more weepy than I am the rest of the month... Maybe.... I cried at Gabby's musical this week so that probably counts as weepy. Both my Mom and Dad teared up too, so I blame my genetics.

The kids performed several Broadway songs. Singing in the Rain, You Can't Stop the Beat, 76 Trombones. Then they got to a song from Wicked. The intro to the song talked about performing in a Broadway show and it being life changing. I performed in show on Chicago's Broadway when I was a freshman in high school and it did, indeed, change my life.  I had no idea how much the song coming at me was going to hit my heart, or I may have tuned out some of the lyrics.

They performed For Good.



I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made from what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?

But because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good

And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the things I've done you blame me for

But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share

And none of it seems to matter anymore

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood

Who can say if I've been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better

Because I knew you...

Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good...
( From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/w/wicked-lyrics/for-good-lyrics.html )

I tried so hard to keep it together. I thought I was going to bite through my lip. But as I was sitting across the gym from my sweet Gabby, watching as she sang her little heart out, I just couldn't keep the tears in.

And when this verse came up I was sobbing. I mean full on, fat tears, rolling down my cheeks.

It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made from what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...

Yeah. Pretty much sums up where we are right now.  The fear of never seeing them again. Knowing how much we've changed each other. Feeling so much love for them. They are my story....

My Mom reached over to grab my hand. Jelly Bean and Little Mama were asking my Dad why I was crying. Then he listened to the words and began to cry. (Let me say that my Dad can get emotional and he used to do it in public quite often.) So the kids thought it was pretty funny. Gabby saw me from across the room.

I stewed for a bit. Stung by how unfair it seemed that the other parents in the room were not wondering if they would ever see their kids again. I only briefly wondered if anyone I knew could see me and then I decided that if they did, I didn't care.  This is hard. Really, really hard. And if someone wants to think less of me - they can go right ahead. Five minutes of our story and I guarantee I'd be getting the "I don't know how you do it, you must be a saint speech". (And these days my response to that is "I'm not sure either, guess we'll find out if I can do it".)

Then they sang Seasons of Love which I wrote a post on here and I thought I was going to need someone to carry me out of there.

 I'm really trying to get out of this funk. To focus on the good. Because there is so much of it. And so much happiness in our home (when the trauma decides to give me a break). And this may well be our last Christmas with the kids and I want it to be special. Full of laughter and wonder. I want the kids to learn from me that you can deal with the bad, turn the stumbling block into a stepping stone, and find the good. Even if the situation appears to suck. Those are the moments that change us for the better. I have to remember that if I'm not there as they journey through life that the lessons I have taught them are there.....for good. 

Love is a Four Letter Word

Driving from work to daycare to a doctors appointment tonight (we have pink eye and an ear infection and the stomach flu at our house this week) I heard this song. It brought tears to my eyes. I've been looking for a way to verbalized my feelings lately and this song lays some of them out there perfectly.




"I Won't Give Up" By Jason Mraz

Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmmm ... Hmmm ...

When I look into your eyes
It's like watching the night sky
Or a beautiful sunrise
There's so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lot to learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not
And who I am

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up
Still looking up.

I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

This song is on the album, Love is a Four Letter Word.

My oh my, do parents of traumatized children understand that statement.  Love is such a foreign concept to our kids that it is a negative. So many of them were told they were loved while awful, rotten, unimaginable things were done to them. Some were never held or told they were loved. Love is evil for kids who have experienced trauma. It is not to be trusted. Nor should you trust those people who might actually show you what real love can be like for they too will disappoint and hurt you with it. 

I'm sure the artist chose the title because so often romantic love can be painful.  So can the love between a parent and a child.  Surely, this kind of pain is nothing compared to the actual trauma our children experience but recovering from that trauma and being the person leading them through it is hard, lonely work. Often feeling impossible to do together because the goal of healing for the parent is often at odds with the goal of survival that our children have.  In order to SURVIVE they must not feel love.  And they will do everything they can to make sure you know that your "love" will not hurt them.  

My kids have trauma in their past. Some more than others.  I understand that my kids' behaviors would be considered mild compared to a lot of other kids in foster care.  I'm not into comparing this sort of thing but I mention it to recognize that a lot of other families are dealing with much tougher stuff than we are.  And I'm grateful that those families are willing to be open and honest with their struggles as it allows me to keep looking up and see how far they've come. Because they have not given up.  They have given their love. And their kids have learned to trust it. To believe in it.
This song has become an affirmation to me.  Of how I want to approach this journey on a daily basis.  That on days that I've listened to the 45th minute of screaming rage, handed the 10th time out, refereed the 15th tattling, answered the 100th nonsense question, and doled out the 14th consequence I have something to hold onto.  Because I haven't given up.  Though Lord know I've asked myself if I should.  And the answer back is always a resounding No. Because we're worth it. Because we are an US.  We are a family.  We have love.  It may not always look like the love of other families but its there. 

I am here to stay and make the difference I can make.  After 5 other families tried to do the same thing.  My kids really need to BELIEVE that I won't give up.  Especially when things get rough. The only way to do this is by proving it. Showing up time and time again.  Staying patient.  Giving them their space when they need it. We DO have a lot at stake. We have an opportunity to break a cycle of abuse that has lasted generations.  We have an opportunity to heal hurt inflicted over years. We have the ability to model for four children what health relationships look like so that they can go forward armed with this information for adulthood.  We have the time to be able to make education a priority and college a possibility for four children who had never finished one year in the same school.We have the ability to teach what LOVE is. What it should be.  I am tough enough. I am tough.  I am enough. On days that I question this I look back and see the strides we've made where others failed.  We haven't broken and the world has not caved in even though there were times I was sure it would. Like the day I had to admit Jelly Bean to the hospital or the day Little Mama was triggered and dissociated, and the day that I figured out Gabby was throwing up at visits due to anxiety, and the day of the worst migraine of my life.  We fought through it.  We got up the next day and the next.  And we are stronger for it.  Because I won't give up on us.  I'm giving them all my love.  E.V.E.R.Y. D.A.Y. Even days that I feel beaten down.  Especially on days that they reject my love and me.  Because that is how I know its working. 

That's the Story of Love

I've always been a fan of Bette Midler.  The Rose is one of my favorite songs. And her version of In My Life beats the Beatles hands down in my opinion. I've even seen her twice in concert. My Hubby played hooky worked from home today so I got to take his car which has an IPod jack in it.  I was feeling kind of down.  I think Friday's court date had a lot to do with it. As much as I help my kids process and deal with emotion I also sometimes need some space to do that too.  As the Mom you don't often get the chance to rage and cry to let it all out.  And since I listen to raging and crying on a daily basis sometimes I'm jealous that I don't get to do the same. My kids have not seen their Mother in over a week and had three appointments with her cancelled last week. 

So listening to this song on my iPod this morning on my way to work I sang my HEART OUT.


You've got to give a little, take a little,
and let your poor heart break a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

You've got to laugh a little, cry a little,
until the clouds roll by a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

As long as there's the two of us,
we've got the world and all it's charms.
And when the world is through with us,
we've got each other's arms.

You've got to win a little, lose a little,
yes, and always have the blues a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

And like most things it made me think of my kids.  How we have good and bad and that its all part of this madness called life.  Sometimes you have to let things go and "roll by".  That the world sometimes doesn't care and sometimes all you have left are eachother. (Like when judges think kids vomitting each time they see their Mother should continue visiting said Mother.)

This reminder of what love takes was especially important tonight as Jelly Bean struggled big time with her reading homework.  Trauma Brain took over before she even got started. "I'm never going to finish.  The book is too big.  My teacher gave me too many books to read. I am stupid.  I'm never going to be able to get my chores done." She was ok for a while as she sat within 5 feet of me while I was making dinner.  Gabby was having an off night and so she was needing homework assistance - and Little Mama is actually still up doing homework as I type this at 11:15 PM because she has no idea how to take a main idea, give examples and tie together with a concluding sentence. We've been working on this assignment for 2 hours.  Did you know the rulers of the Han Dynasty allowed art and scholarship to flourish and created a Chinese Dictionary? Now you know.But I digress.....

Jelly Bean started to escalate her behavior.  When I looked over and saw the ugly cry face I knew it was going ot get rough.

 "Jelly Bean if you need a break  you can go up to your room until you are ready to work"

"Noooo. (Gets up - Stomp stomp stomp up the staris as crying and screamining begins.) I'm soo stupid. I HATE this family."

In my head I'm going ok not just about homework.  This is also about family.

"You need to try that agian." (We don't allow stomping and screaming up the stairs. If you are dismissed to your room you may go and cry and scream in there but you will not stomp up the stairs.)

"Oh my GOOOSHHSHHSH" as she comes down the stairs quietly and goes back up quietly.  Then the wailing begins.

Now please believe me when I tell you my 8 year old sounds like a baby crying that can't be soothed. An up in the middle of the night I need to be fed/have a fever/colic cry that does not stop.  She went a good 15 minutes before I heard, "Mommy...help me.....Mommy..."

Tomorrow (meaning in 30 minutes) will be one year that Jelly Bean and Mr. Mohawk have lived here.  We made the mistake (yes I said mistake) of telling her last week this factoid.  Why is it a mistake? Well because even though I find joy in this milestone she find pain.  Because even though I'm happy we are a family she is not.  She is concerned we will move her too.  She is worried her mother won't get her back.  She feels safe and this is super scary to a kid used to operating in choas (although I would consider our lives quite choatic it is nowhere near the level she lived in).

I went up the stairs and found her lying in her bed.  I called to her softly.  I looked at her with soft eyes.  I stretched out my hand.  "Jelly Bean, honey, Mommy is here.  Come to me. Let me pick you up." She cowered in the corner of the bed. I was able to get my arms under her arm pits and lift her up like a toddler.  I pulled her into my lap and rocked her agianst my chest like a baby.  She almost instantly calmed and quieted.  I murmered. You are loved. You are safe over and over.  Hubby came in and gently asked her what was wrong.

"I miss my Mom.  I miss my Uncle.  I talked about my Uncle with Mr. Social Worker at lunch today.  He had us draw something that makes us sad.  I drew my Uncle's grave."

Today I saw it coming.  Today I was able to keep calm because she needed me to do that.  I was able to keep at it with Little Mama for almost 2 hours.  And recognize in the process how far we've come since the begining of the school year.

And now in an up date to this post the family therapist emailed back today.  Sorry for the confusion about the email address.  It is unethical to discuss clients conditions over email (Um I work with 3 other therapists and a case worker who ask me to email updates about how everyone is doing and you've thanked me for all the emails I've sent you but ok.).  I think everyone wants to help this family and this mission will be best served if everyone sticks to their roles.

1. I didn't discuss specific conditions - I said setting these appointmenst with this conflict is going to cause backlash.  You want to walk into a session with 3 angry kids who once agian got jipped in the fun, normal activity department be my guest.  Personally, I'd want the heads up.
2. What role are you playing? You told the kids to lie to me.
3. What do you think my role is.  Oh thats right I'm just the foster parent.  I mean nothing.  I'm just supposed to handle all the appointments, tears, anger, sadness, anxiety, hospitalizations, changes to our schedule, Mom's new work schedules and sit back and put a smile on my face as if everything is peachy.  I'm supposed to support reunification and Mom and apparently that means turning a blind eye to all of the issues like everyone else.   Sorry I didn't go to that training class.  I went to the one where I was told I was supposed to work as part of a team to help a family but first and foremost I am to 1) advocate for my foster kids 2) keep them safe.

Too darn bad if you aren't used to working with foster parents like me.  It makes me so sad that the way we approach this is the exception rather than the rule.  I think the fact that we have all 4 of the kids and nearly for a year, and they have flourished in our home should speak for itself.  I'm not a total idiot.  I'm in tune to them.  I know their hurts and issues inside and out.  I see the problems from different angles and I am willing to try whatever might work to help them heal.  If you aren't part of the solution  you're part of the problem.  I have enough problems....If you can't be a part of this particular Team and how it works then you can be excused.

Unfair

Wednesday I recieved what I would consider two major blows. The first was a phone call from the District Attorney's office. The Victim Advocate called to set up a meeting with Little Mama to prep her for a pretrial hearing in the case agianst the Monster that hurt JB in foster care. I'm sorry did I hear you right - LM has to testify? When is the hearing? 2 weeks? And I'm just finding this out now? Do you know she was abused also? And that guy is sitting in jail? And its a major issue with my kids as he was the father of another one of the kids? Luckily this was in time for her trauma therapist to prep her before the DA. To say I was caught off guard was an understatement. And man am I worried about the trigger this might be. After a year in therapy she still hasn't disclosed ANY of the details of her abuse to her therapist. This may just be the log that breaks the dam.

Then Case Worker came over for our monthly visit. We had emailed with some major concerns about visits. We were right they aren't going well. Why aren't they going well? According to their Mom its because the kids are in a non-Spanish speaking home. There is a law in Illinois that states that Spanish speaking parents are entitled to have the right to say whether or not their children can be in English speaking homes. They must sign a waiver if it is ok for this to happen. Our foster kid's mother did not sign it. And after all of the Spanish speaking placements for her 4 children disrupted they were placed in our home together after 9 months of being seperated.

According to everyone in the case they are doing wonderfully here. They are excelling at school, begining to heal in therapy, finally stabalized after 9 months of moves (5 other houses between them). And because of this their service providers and case worker are finding out more and more of the poor choices and abuse that these kids have suffered through. And as their visit time has increased so has their Mom's inability to handle the 4 kids that she has. 1) because there are 4 of them 2) because they don't trust her 3)they are acting out big time because they know she can't hit them 4) one of them is 4 and a boy 5) one of them has ADHD 6) she doesn't have a support system 7) she hasn't taken responsibility for her actions 8) she has had a therapist for a year that was a total idiot. (He's the reason family therapy stopped.)

And because she can't take responsibility and blames everyone else it is now OUR fault that her children are refusing to speak Spanish around her. And she wants them moved to a Spanish speaking home. And she has the power to do so even though it was her actions that caused them to be removed in the first place. Not caring that this will absoluetly traumatize them further. Not caring that finally her 7 year old is able to hug a father figure without fear. Not caring that her children can now read and are doing well in school. Not realizing that maybe if she stopped shoving Mexico down their throat they might stop rebelling. Or if she stopped telling them they will be moving to Mexico or that she will be moving to Mexico with or without them they might be willing to embrace their heritage. Not realizing that instead of ignoring her children at visits because their Spanish isn't where she wants it she could use the time to interact with them and teach them or speak to them in the English she does know so they weren't so darn frustrated and acting out. And perhaps learning English would help her land a better paying job so she wasn't so stressed about finances or dependent on boyfriends to take care of her AND her four children.

Now before I get flamed on my blog about my insensitivity to their Mom or what sounds like non-support of the reunification goal let me give you some background on our family. My husband is hispanic. 100%. My Mother-in-Law speaks fluent Spanish as does my husband's Step Father, and best friend. We support and encourage the kids to use their Spanish. They flat out refuse. And while I understand listening to music or forcing them to watch tv and movies in Spanish or conversing with our friends and family who do speak Spanish is a lousy 2nd to living with people who speak fluent Spanish it isn't like we are trying to take it away from them. Additionally, our support of their eduction, mental health, and other needs has been above and beyond as all of their service providers have told us. I'm not one to toot my own horn but when their bilingual trauma therapist looks be dead in the eye and tells me she rarely gives compliments but believes we are one of the best foster parents she's ever worked with and in her professional opinion thinks we are the best possible home for them I have to believe her. She also believes this problem with Spanish started way before they got put in DCFS care and this is evidenced by the fact that the youngest was given an evaluation in Spanish but answered everything in English. Why? because his older sister who was learning English in school was taking care of him.

But none of that matters. Because as hard as I try to help these kids heal their Mother is making more work for them.And the law gives her that power. And I understand there is a serious and real concern that the youngest won't be able to understand her when he returns home. And I take that seriously, I really do. So in order to prevent ANOTHER move we have to enroll them in Spanish classes. So between school, and three therapists, weekly visits, and perhaps family therapy starting they will have Spanish class. And to top all that off we may be required to speak to their Mom, in Spanish. This part is still fuzzy.

But as their therapist relayed this requirement to me it just seemed incredibly unfair. Because on top of caring for 4 children, working full time, and trying to keep my sanity I will now have to jump through several hoops when their Mother has not had to jump through a single one. And I cried in her office. With my foster children on the other side of the wall. Angry that their Mother doesn't understand that their well being and her issues go well beyond them speaking Spanish. Or how incredibly fragile her children are. And that to me there was no other option than trying to comply with these requests to protect HER kids. And knowing that at the end of this she is supposed to get them back and has the right to take them out of our lives forever. And because my husband did not not grow up speaking Spanish and actually didn't do very well taking it in High School I will now have to brush up on mine. So it rides on my shoulders. Luckily I took Spanish from 7th grade up through college. But its rusty. And I never thought I was very good. But I will do it because thats whats best for these kids. And when they complain and ask me why they have to go to ANOTHER appointment none of their friends have to go to I will lie and say because the judge made it a rule because that is also for their best interest.

Rollercoaster of Love

You give me that funny feeling in my tummy....

Ahw sh.., yeah, that's right huh

Rollercoaster of Love say what
Rollercoaster yeah (oohh oohh oohh)...

Oh baby you know what I'm talking about
Rollercoaster of Love
oh yeah it's Rollercoaster time

lovin' you is really wild
Oh it's just a love rollercoaster
step right up and get your tickets

1-Your love is like a Rollercoaster baby,baby
I wanna ride yeah (awawaw)
(repeat 1)

2-Move over dad 'cause I'm a double dipple
Upside down on the big dip dipper
1,2, 1,2,3 I've got a ticket come ride with me
Let me go down on the merry-go-round
All is fair 'n' a big fair ground
Let's go slow, let's go fast
Like a liqorice twist gonna whip your ass
(rpt 1, 1, 2, 1...)

Rollercoaster say what
I will be there for you I will be your man
Lyrics by the Ohio Players

Ok so the context of the song obviously is not kid freindly but the song popped into my head tonight as I tried to articulate to my husband how I've been feeling. Up and Down and Up and Down. And it won't get to level ground anytime soon.

We met with the Guardian Ad Litum or Attorney for the kids this week. Which went ok if you can ignore that fact that both Jelly Bean and Mohawk decided to clam up and lie to him.

Do you have friends? No.
Will you speak Spanish for me? I don't know.
Mohawk, Can you count to ten. No.
Do you have friends? No.

To which I'm doing everything in my power to not scream - YES! YES the know it. Yes they have made friends. They are smart. I have no idea why all of a sudden they've decided to act dumb. I felt like a bad Mother - even though I'm not their real Mother and I didn't do the damage to these kids that caused them to totally freak out in this attorney's office. I know why they clammed up. They know this guy has something to do with the fact they are not living with their Mom and sisters. And they are concerned that anything the say will hurt somebody. And it will. If they say they want to go home they hurt us. They say they don't want to go home it hurts their Mom.

He asked Jelly Bean to draw a picture of her house. She drew a single flower in the middle of grass. And my heart broke.

And this is the hard stuff. This is what no amount of PRIDE classes or blog reading or forum chats can prepare you for. The heartbreaking moment where you realize you love these kids and that you are actively working to help get them back home which in one way makes you feel great and in the other awful because you want to protect them forever. AND you are doing it blindly because NO ONE WILL TELL YOU WHAT HAS TO HAPPEN BEFORE THEY CAN GO HOME. THE GAL wouldn't tell me what is going to happen in June. He said it was up to the judge. OK but you seem like a smart guy you've gone to law school. Give me your best guess. OR tell me what you are going to recommend because then I can prepare. Prepare to get over the loss. OR prepare for the backlash of anger that will be headed my way.

Because I do love these kids. And everyone asks me "Won't it be hard when the go back?" Yes. And my answer is "Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all" but today is a day when I'm not sure. I'm not sure that I can say goodbye to them and be happy they are going home. And that is so totally against my grain that It makes me angry at myself for thinking it.

Maybe God is trying to teach me some new lesson but for the life of me I have no clue what it could be other than your heart can break and break and will become whole again.

Happy Valentine's Day!

We are beginning week 4 of our new family. We had a very busy weekend and had a little more sadness than we had previously. My 3 year old (Mr. Mohawk) was really missing his “really, real Mom” and his sisters. He would come to me with “Mama I miss my sisters” I’d give him a hug and he would go play. I’m starting to wonder if he has hit a new level developmentally and now understands more of the situation and is therefore confused by it.

He discovered Power Rangers Saturday and so that was cute watching him bounce around the house. He also noticed that the Beast from Beauty and the Beast also has a Mohawk and was very excited by this. We have been trying to watch all of the classic Disney films as we have a trip planned in the Spring and want the kids to be excited by all the characters.

My little Jelly Bean had kind of a rough day Sunday. She was really defiant at bedtime and although she is normally a snail in the dressing and undressing process she decided to race to the bathroom when I told her brother to go brush his teeth and I watched as she started to slam the door on him. This is obviously unacceptable and she was immediately sent to a time out. In the process of trying to talk about what she did wrong she decided to stomp off to the bathroom. Its so hard to figure out what is normal 7 year old behavior, traumatized kid behavior, new to this house behavior, and ADHD symptoms. We did discover though she has an interest and a talent for decorating cookies Saturday. Her reading is improving and she actually read for 45 minutes straight on Sunday. She is very worried about being adopted although this has not been brought up – and we have not asked if we would be willing. (Her previous family adopted their youngest daughter through foster care and our kids attended the ceremony.) She is worried as she know if this were to happen she would not be going back to live with her Mom. I asked her where she thought she would live and she said here.

I walked into work today and found a beautiful bouquet of flowers waiting for me with a card that said, “Happy Valentine’s Day to the best Mom in the world. We Love you, From the best children in the world, Jelly Bean and Mr. Mohawk.” I tell you my husband is something else. So of course I sent him a picture with a thank you and he called back all angry. Apparently, the florist sent the wrong arrangement and not one as expensive as he paid for. So I get ANOTHER delivery on Wednesday and a discount on our next order And I’m happy to report I’m the ONLY Mom/wife to get flowers at the office.

So on this day where we celebrate those we love I’m rejoicing in the new ways I’ve found love. The new ways I love my husband. These children who are so awesome they have already stolen my heart. And the newfound appreciation I have for my own parents. My heart is full.

There is nothing quite as crushing as the weight of grief when it comes fallling down upon you. Sometimes it leaves you flattened. Unable to move, to stand up, or to keep going. Other times it propells you in directions you would not have imagined. The day before Thanksgiving at 1:30 AM I was struck with the news that my Grandma had passed. My Mother's words on the other end of the phone were clear but my brain could not understand. And in just a few minutes my world went from peaceful slumber to restless shock. For hours I sobbed not knowing how to process the ache in my heart. I was glad she was not suffering. I was angry she didn't get one last Thanksgiving with her family all together. And scared because I knew that there were many moments still to come in my life in which I would need her wisdom and I wouldn't hear it directly.

Then she hit me. Like Literally. I was digging in a trunk of pictures and scrapbooking supplies and the top of the trunk came crashing onto the back of my head. The thought "finish this for me" hitting me instantly.

Then the day before the wake I got a phone call from a friend. His cousin was in college and pregnant and had decided on adoption. Were we still interested? And as bad as it sounds the only reason we wouldn't be is because we were not sure about affording day care. I told him that yes we would like to meet her. She was having a girl and due in January. I told my husband the good news. He was upset. Why would we want to get our hopes up if we financially can't do this? And I told him I couldn't explain to him logically the reason behind it but my heart was telling me that we needed to seek this further. To not close the door until we had too. Besides she might not even like us.

Then I got a call about a job interview. And at the wake the next day my cousin came. My cousin with the adoption story. She had just been discussing taking in children during the day to supplement their income. One of my favorite Bible passages is from Matthew. Ask and you shall receive, Seek and you shall find, Knock and the door shall be opened. And it seemed like the door was being opened at least to the possibility that this child could become ours. And even though my husband does not often discuss his faith - He agreed that he felt like it was Grandma up there opening the door propelling us in a different direction. And we agreed that if we did adopt this baby we would name her after Grandma. And if God's plan is different it will at least have enabled us to hope at a time when it would be easy to be stuck in doubt and sadness.