We are still Making Babies Happen

It's been 2 years and 2 months since my last post and since we let our baby Birdie go. I never did see her again. After many broken play dates and calls of desperation to her mother without return, I stopped trying.

It took about 6 months of mourning; at church, crying at the sight of a baby girl laying in her mommy's lap in the row next to us, those random crying spells that seem to make no sense such as barely making it through a reading of the Cat in the Hat to my (then) 4 year old.

"And all we could do was to Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! And we did not like it, not one little bit," I read, wiping my face of tears and regaining my composure to move on to the next page.

I don't know how I go through that time. I was sure the pain would kill me. Daniel was with us at this point. We picked him up from his foster family two days after dropping Birdie off. I am in love with my son now, but can humbly admit that I was so distressed over having to give up Birdie that during Daniel's first few months with us, I had a hard time loving him like I loved Birdie.

We adopted Daniel in December of 2011 at the age of 14 months. He is officially ours and no one can take him from us! What a relieving feeling. Especially with the chaos we have endured and continue to endure with the permanency of our foster daughter, who is now 6 year old.

For privacy and legal reasons, I can't discuss the details because she is technically our foster daughter, even though I am her Mom and she is my daughter, my husband is her father, Daniel is her brother, and Caitlyn and Kirsten are her sisters. There is no "foster" in our titles. Her understanding of of foster mom and dad are right on, calling her biological mother and father her foster mom and dad, being that her biological parents have been temporary and we have been her constant. She has that part correct. Foster implies temporary.

I believe it is God's will for her to be with us permanently. She is with us for the 3rd time in the past 2.5 years and we have rearranged our lives to welcome her back into our home and our family every time. With persistent prayer and advocating for her best interest, she will be our adopted daughter. It is just a matter of time. And we will love her like crazy until then and forever more.

Daniel is an awesome blessing from above. Wow, what a treat he is!
Look at that face! And he is smart and funny, charming and polite (for a 2 year old). I know God blessed us with him for many reasons, but for sure to soften the blow of what we are going through to get our daughter.

Thanks to God for the joy He has brought to this family through our children; all four of them!

Letting Her Go

“I love waking up to her smiling face every morning,” said Baby’s mom.
She begins to cry as she is praised for her accomplishments over the last six months. Baby’s mom has reached the point where she will now officially gain custody of her daughter for the first time.

The caseworker runs to get tissue to dry her client’s tears.

It’s all playing out like a dream to me. More like a waking nightmare. The corner conference room has white, stale interior walls and high ceilings; the early-afternoon sun is flooding in through mounting windows. The sun is irritating. I would rather it be rainy and cold because that’s how I feel. But, for Baby’s mom it is beautiful. The sun is shining brightly for her. This is her time; her day. Her dream come true and my nightmare.

But, I am sitting there gracefully in pain.

The document that will release Baby to her mother is passed around for all parties to sign. We have the option of agreeing with the decision for Baby to go home or disagreeing. I feel some sense of empowerment that I am being given the opportunity to disagree with this decision. But, I check the box that says “agree.” I do agree. As much as I don’t want to let this baby go, her mommy wants her back, and has done all the necessary work to get her back.

We decide on a date and time that Baby will be returned to her mommy. I sign and date this document, stating that I agree to hand over the child at the agreed upon time and place. A necessary formality to ensure we don’t skip town with the kid, which my husband has kidded about since Baby came home.

The meeting wraps up and Baby goes home with me for the last time.

***

That sweet little “ahhhYaaa” rings from the baby monitor followed by thump…… thump.
Baby has recently learned how to lift both legs and let them drop; one of her many new found revelations about what her 6-month-old body can do. I prepare her bottle and walk upstairs. She has her pink furry blanket, with the pink and white polka dot satin trim, in her mouth. I greet her with a smile and a “Good morning Baby!” She greets me back with her huge, wide open-mouthed smile, showing off her toothless gums, beautiful brown eyes squinting from smiling so hard. I pick her up from her crib and sadness comes over me, for this is the last time we will greet each other in the morning.

She has that morning look; puffy eyes and face, indentation from the pillow on her cheek. The few hairs she does have on the back of her head look like a bird’s nest, and the generous amount of dark brown hair on the top of her head is puffy and floating. She is so warm and cozy, and my heart melts as I hold her close to me. I smell her face and kiss her cheek, taking her in, binding her presence to my memory. I have her dressed in a zip-up jumper with brown and green stripes, with a brown monkey sewn along the left side.

“Mommy, why is Baby wearing boy’s pajamas?” asks my 4-year-old foster daughter.

“Because Baby is going home today, and Daniel will be moving in,” I answer. “These will be Daniel’s pajamas soon.”

The last few days counting down to her departure are like a foggy, bad dream. I started to let things go in the house; clothes not washed, or the ones that are washed still sit in the clothes basket. Motivation begins to dwindle, and I wonder what the last six months were for???

After allowing some time to feel sorry for myself, I come back to my purpose, and ask that question again. “What were the last six months of my life for???”

My answer is to give Baby an extraordinary start to her life, a start that may not have been possible if she would have been placed in her mother’s care directly after birth. The last six months have allowed her mother to work through the issues that caused Baby to be taken from her in the first place.

The other purpose of the last six months was to teach me to conquer my worst fear of loving a child and ultimately having to let her go. I knew God would put me through this. I knew I wouldn’t get off easy on this one.

***

Husband, Step-Daughter and Foster Daughter came with to say “good-bye” to our Birdie, a nickname my husband gave Baby when she was born. As we approached the exit from the freeway, my phone rang.

It was my baby’s other mom.

“We are just getting off the freeway,” I answered. We were running a few minutes late as usual.

“Oh, OK.” She said in her high pitched, always forgiving voice.

As we drove into the parking lot I spotted her standing on the sidewalk outside of the Starbucks, where we have been meeting since Baby was 3 months old. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail, with a long sleeved purple shirt on, jeans, ballet flats, and her black, school girl-like glasses sitting on her nose. She looked ready to be a full-time mom. She stood holding onto Baby’s new gray and orange stroller, ready for Baby to occupy.

We parked the car. Mom walked anxiously up to the window of our car to where her daughter was.

I stepped out of the car and walked around to the trunk to retrieve Baby’s items.

“Hello.” She said in her cute, high-pitched voice, the way she always does.

I reached for her with an embrace and my gesture was openly reciprocated, something that came naturally for her for the first time since Christmas. Two mothers; in love with the same child. In that moment, the long embrace told the whole story. It was finally over. She was finally getting her baby back, and I was finally able to move on and find closure.

I didn’t cry like I thought I might. I’ve been crying over the possibility of her going home since she was a month old, and I had pictured this day for quite some time. I suppose the actual task of handing her over was not as intense as the anticipation. Everyone held and kissed Birdie goodbye, but I had to be the one to officially hand baby over to mom. It was a symbolic moment for me. A significant chapter in my life was officially ending as soon as that baby left my arms. And, I was at peace with it.

I told Baby I would love her forever, gave a kiss on her cheek and handed her over to her new full-time mommy. I became teary-eyed and I’m sure I could have broken down if I would have let myself. But, I had my whole family in the car, and stuff to do. I am a private mourner, and privacy I did not have.

“I can cry later,” I told myself.

Yet, since baby’s departure, it seems like my tears want to come at the most inopportune times. I suppose I need to get over the whole “private mourner” thing if I want to get through this in a healthy fashion. With a husband, a 4-year-old, two step-children and our new foster baby, “private” is a fond memory.

***

I picked up 4-month-old Daniel from his foster family yesterday. He is perfectly healthy with brown eyes, lots of curly brown hair and a big smile with dimples. As I sit here in Starbucks finishing this piece, he falls asleep on my chest. I go up to the counter for my free refill (because I am a gold card member), and my eyes well up. I feel Daniel’s tiny warm body resting against mine, and I remember Birdie. I order my coffee in a choked up voice. Have to swallow my tears again; can’t cry at the Starbucks counter. I don’t like the attention, or making other people feel uncomfortable. So, I stop until the next time my memories of Baby jerk at my tears. I am glad I have those moments, though. I have had a few of those moments over the last couple of days, but it is not a constant pain. It’s not like I thought it would be. And, I wonder if something is wrong with me; why I am not totally devastated at the loss of Birdie? I think it is because I am confident that she is safe and happy. I know that her mom is taking excellent care of her. And, I am at peace with this knowledge.

Plans with Daniel are that he is a keeper. He is soon to be adoptable, and most likely will be with us forever. THAT is an awesome feeling! To be able to look at him and think about being present for his first words, first steps and every other wondrous milestone he hits as he grows! I can finally find joy in this! I can dream, and this dream has the potential to become a reality! With Birdie, I would always have to stop myself from dreaming about her future, because the outcome was so uncertain. And until Daniel is legally ours, there is no guarantee. But, the odds are in our favor. THAT is exciting!

I miss Baby; our Birdie. I keep her blanket that she slept with at night in an easily retrievable place, to be grabbed when I need a little reminiscent whiff. Similar to when we experience the death of a loved one, we sometimes like to keep objects that belonged to them. With Birdie, she is still alive and well; just living the rest of her life somewhere else now. And, the thought of being able to see her again one day makes it all OK. Maybe that is why it is not so horrible. I know I will get to see her again one day.

It’s time to be Daniel’s mommy now, and let my Birdie go.

"Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom..."

I have always wished to be called “Mom”; to have a child of my own to call me “Mom”; to depend on me to guide her, teach her, and love her unconditionally. My step-children sometimes slip up and call me “Mom”, and it always causes a warm, fuzzy feeling to fill my heart and soul and a smile to emerge on my face.

A few weeks ago this particular wish or prayer came true, and it is continuing to brighten every moment of my day with the ringing of “Mom” sounding throughout our home.

The call that changed my world came about 4 weeks ago. I had just found out 2 days before hand that my precious 4-month-old foster baby would most likely be going home to her biological mother in March. I had been struggling with an overwhelming feeling of sadness and anger. A gut wrenching feeling over the thought of having an empty bassinet sitting next to my bed, unused bottles sitting in my cupboard, the baby bath sitting dry in my bathroom, and the lonely silence that her absence would bring.

My husband and I had considered taking in another child after having our foster baby for a few months. We enjoyed caring for two during our time providing respite (a short-term placement for children in foster care ranging from 2 days to a week), and figured we were ready to take on the challenge of caring for two precious beings full-time. We had the open bed (the term used when a foster home has space for a child) and felt it was our duty to fill that bed with another child who needs us. Now that we had the hang of one, two would be challenging, but awesome!

A few Friday’s ago I dropped Baby off for a day visit with her mother. The gut wrenching feeling started to come over me filling my body with anxiety and extreme discomfort.

I started breathing and praying and breathing and pleading for a relief from the pain.

“PLEASE help me deal with and accept that this baby’s mother wants her back and is going to get her back!” “PLEASE help me deal with this pain before I lose my mind!”

The one thing I feared the most was coming true. As much as I tried to prepare myself for this, it still hurts badly. (Read my blog Elation and Love like You’ll Never Be Hurt).

I went on with my day to my job as a Pilates Instructor. As I was teaching, my phone rang. It was the placement team from DFS (Department of Family Services.) I assumed they were calling me to do another respite, and was annoyed by this. That’s all I needed was a respite kid to love and give up a few days later.

The word assumes makes an ass out of u and me for a reason.

After teaching my lesson, I retrieved the message.

“We have a little girl who needs placement. She is 3-years-old, going to be 4 in a few months, and is potentially a permanent placement.”

After talking with my hubby and agreeing that we could take this on, with the possibility of permanency, we agreed, at the least, to meet her. Within 24 hours, she was in our home, playing with “her” toys and me falling in love.

5 days later she moved in, and we will do everything in our power to make sure she gets to stay.

When my husband and I decided to be foster parents, we agreed that any foster child who came into our home would stay in our home unless the family court judge decided differently. During my time at Boys Town as a Family Consultant, I worked with a number of children and teens who had been diagnosed with Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD). RAD can cause life-long difficulties in building healthy relationships with others. Education, career, family, friendships, and romantic relationships can all be negatively affected by this disorder throughout the child’s life. Children who are abused, neglected, or bounced from home to home are not able to form healthy bonds with caregivers, resulting in reactive attachment. With proper treatment, children can learn to build healthy relationships and have productive, fulfilling lives.

What an awesome four weeks this has been getting to know our precious 3 1/2-year-old foster daughter and her getting to know us. Getting the hang of caring for TWO little ones, AND two pre-teens, AND a husband, AND a home, AND our 5 furry family members. Not to mention my part-part-time job (only about 10 hours a week), and nurturing relationships with friends and family. AND I love it all!!!

I am actually very impressed with myself for holding it all together! Unlike the birth of a biological child whose families have had 6-9 months of preparation, we had about 72 hours to make a decision that could impact our lives forever.

It is stressful, and I yell sometimes. But I am on cloud nine (most of the time) and, once again, have complete confirmation that THIS is what I was meant to do! (Read my blog My Dream Came True If Only for 5 Days).

I am thankful for my husband who, along with being an awesome biological father, is a loving, attentive foster father. After a long day at work, he takes time to spend with his foster daughters AND his biological daughters. They adore him as his does them.

Although he may not admit it, he is enjoying reliving his favorite childhood memories.

Recently Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the original Christmas classic, is a favorite of our 3-year-old foster daughter. She won't sit through the whole movie, leaving her movie companion (my husband) left to watch it by himself.

“Babe, you can turn this off now. She’s not watching it,” I say to him.

“It’s OK,” he says; eyes glued to the TV.

“You like Rudolph, don’t you???” I tease him.

He gives me his playful, pouty look and says “No?” Implying he loves it.

This whole experience is so great for the both of us. It is bringing out our inner children, allowing for a more playful, relaxed atmosphere. From classic cartoons to Play dough to role-playing You Be the Baby and I Be the Mom which can get highly addictive when I am aloud to throw the temper tantrums! And she reprimands me with “Are you ganna be attitude? Come on.” She is so super cute that I break character and have to smile.

As far as my feelings towards my foster baby going home, I am slowly starting to find acceptance and peace. She started doing overnight visits with her mom a few weeks ago. I was nervous at first, but became confident over time that Baby is happy and being well taken care of during her visits. Her mother has gotten better at communicating with me and being open to my direction. When Baby sees her mommy, she beams with a smile, and every time I pick Baby up, she is happy, calm, and well taken care of.

From the beginning, I prayed for Baby to end up in the care of someone who will love her and keep her happy, healthy, and safe. Her mother appears to be doing just that. And this allows me to be at peace with her going home. The gut wrenching feeling is subsiding with every visit. I am genuinely happy for her mother and thankful that she has been able to use the resources provided to her.

Every parent whose child enters the foster care system is given a case-plan tailored to them according to their circumstances. They must fulfill the duties of the case-plan to regain custody of their children. The case-plan can include responsibilities such completing a drug rehab, domestic violence classes, establishing a residence, and completing child development and child care classes. Some parents choose to follow it and use it to their advantage to better their lives and the lives of their children. Some don’t. Luckily, Baby’s mother is.

I am so incredibly thankful for the life I have been given the privilege and blessing to create. The years of waiting, wishing, hoping and praying for children to care for on a full-time basis has finally come to fruition. My prayers have been answered, and for the first time in a long time I feel fulfilled, happy, and confident with what I have been blessed with.

As I sit here at my kitchen table at 7:41AM finishing this blog, I am watching my foster baby bounce in her play disc, my foster daughter sing to her Dora doll, and my husband sing along to Marry Had a Little Lamb.

Awesome! Harmonious! Beautiful! Wow! I am a lucky girl!

For more information on RAD go to www.mayoclinic.com and search reactive attachment disorder.

Learning to Love Like You'll Never Be Hurt

November 29, 2010

Baby has been here since we picked her up from the hospital on September 24, which happens to be my brother’s birthday. What a whirlwind of change! 24 hours to get ready to take in a baby, and she is still with us, healthy and thriving in our home at almost 10 weeks old.


It’s looking like we will have her for a while; 6 months at least. The more I grow attached to this beautiful, flawless, smiley, personality filled baby that has all of her mother’s DNA, but all of my nurturing, I sometimes find myself worrying; worrying that e-mail or call from the case-worker will be news for the baby to go back to mom soon.

We are supposed to be starting longer visits with bio-mom next week in addition to the twice weekly, hour-long visits already in place. I had a really hard time with visits in the beginning and I go in waves with my feelings during the visits. I actually became teary-eyed during a conversation with baby’s mother about the possibility of her going home. I am the queen of holding back my tears, so I was shocked at my vulnerability. I usually wait to get in the car, or at least walk away, before I break down. Not when it comes to baby. She has changed my whole world and caused my emotions to surface like never before. Something only a pure love, an unconditional love can tap into. That protection factor I hold is becoming void in this situation.


Baby had to get her 2 month shots last week. I was not looking forward to the pain this would cause this little munchkin. Babies’ cries are so distinct. There is a cry when they are hungry, a cry when they are uncomfortable, a cry when they are lonely or sad, missing companionship, a cry when they are tired, and a cry when they are in pain. This last cry is the most gut wrenching, saddest cry. I read that talking to the baby and loving her before and during her shots can help with providing some sense of comfort.

As baby lay on the table in the pediatrician’s exam room, the nurse entered with the vaccinations. I began to talk to baby the way I always do,


“Hi baby,” “You’re beautiful,” “I love you.”

The nurse stopped for a moment and said something to the extent of


“Did you say you love her? Ahh-oh!”

Her implication was that because she is a foster baby I am setting myself up for extreme heartbreak. I get this comment a lot!


“Oh, so you can’t get too attached then,” is the response I get when I tell people of the situation.

And I say:


“No, I am already attached.”

This baby deserves to get all of my love. This is not about me and my feelings. This is about providing baby with the love and nurturing that is so detrimental to her development in these early months of her life. And if she goes home, I will deal with it then.


There is a popular quote hanging on my wall engraved on a black, wooden square that says:
LOVE like you’ll never be hurt.

There is a propensity for The Universe to eventually manifest what we surround our selves with. Like the bassinet sitting alongside my bed, empty for months, and my visualization of that bassinet being filled with a baby, has now manifested itself. I intentionally hung the loving like you’ll never be hurt quote in a place where I can read it every day. It is displayed along with the other sayings: DANCE like nobody’s watching; SING like nobody’s listening; LIVE like it’s Heaven on Earth.”

Loving like you’ll never be hurt is not easy when you’ve been jaded by life’s heartbreaks. Usually, the hurt comes from the bitter interaction (or absent interaction) between us and the people we love. Things are said (or not said), things are done (or not done) and this all leads to the chipping away at a loving heart.


Not possible with babies. Babies are the purest form of a human being. They have yet to be jaded by life’s unpleasant experiences; they have simple needs and just want those needs met. This makes it easy to give them the unbiased love and devotion they deserve. Unconditional love; Loving a baby is true unconditional love.

With all this in mind, I continue to take this experience day by day. Do I fear her leaving one day? Sure; Certainly. Is it worth the anguish to dwell on this possibility? Not at all.


This experience is a true testament of how to take life day by day. None of this is easy. To not be certain of the future of this beautiful baby is difficult. And that is an understatement. I will start to day dream about her; what it may be like years from now with her in our lives; what it would be like to get to keep her. And those thoughts make me so warm and happy. But then I have to stop myself; get back to reality, and remember that her being with us forever may not be our (or her) destiny. In the mean time, I continue to give her all the love and nurturing she needs and deserves.

I am so thankful to have the privilege of having baby here for the holidays. Right before Thanksgiving I went clothes shopping for her. Target had a little 3 piece outfit with a onesie that says I am Mommy’s wish come true; the i in wish replaced with an embroidered picture of a single, lit birthday candle. Last year, on my Halloween birthday, I wished for her. I wished for a baby a year from that day. And here she is; making her foster mommy’s wish come true, teaching me to love again like I’ll never be hurt.

Elation

The foster placement team called me on Thursday:
“We have a baby that we need placement for today. She is 2 days old, healthy, and ready to leave the hospital.”

I instantly declined:
“Thank you for contacting us [my husband and I] but without the strong possibility of the potential to adopt the baby, I have to decline. I have to protect my emotions; plus I can’t take off work until the baby is old enough to go into day care. Sorry.”

I make up every excuse to protect my emotions; the fear of bonding with a child and then having to give that child up after a long period of caring for them. But this time, something made me change my mind.

About 5 minutes after declining placement with the newborn baby, I called the team back to inquire about the details. I had been turning down placements left and right in an attempt to protect myself. I decided this time I needed to give it a chance. A tiny new baby that can’t go home to mommy is sitting in the hospital waiting for a home. And I had the privilege of being asked first if I wanted to care for her. This baby needs me right now and that’s what it’s really about.

So here we are on a cozy Sunday morning, 5 day old baby girl by my side; healthy and beautiful. I have fallen in love. Having never raised a newborn I am fairly surprised by how natural it feels. My hubby is helping tremendously, having raised 2 of his own already. I am on cloud 9! The elation I feel is indescribable; I guess only a mother (or father) can really know this feeling.

Sure I am completely vulnerable, but I keep reminding myself to stay in the moment; to relish in the care and nurturing I get to give her today and that every bit of love is helping her to develop a healthy sense of trust.

The ultimate goal of the Department of Family Services (DFS) is reunification with the biological family, if possible. In this case she is with us because they have not found family who will take her, yet. She could be with us for a few more days, weeks, or months. There is really no guarantee. As a professional, I am ready to take on the responsibility of working with the birth mother in an attempt at reunifying her and her daughter. I am her foster mother, but have to constantly remind myself that her biological mother is, most likely, missing her like crazy right now. Sure, I will be devastated when (or if) she leaves. But will have comfort in knowing I provided the nurturing and love that is crucial in these early days of development.

For now, I continue to sit on cloud 9, stay in the moment, and absorb the elation I feel caring for this tiny being. I love her. For today and for as long as I am blessed with having her in my care, she is fulfilling my dream of being a mommy.

As far as a sitter, I asked my step-kid’s mom, who stays home with her two toddlers, and she was ecstatic to take this on! I am so grateful to have her availability and feel 100% confident in leaving this baby with her. She will be going through the Non-Primary Caregiver licensing process, required by DFS for persons whom will be caring for children in protective custody on a regular basis.

Next week will be a busy week! First pediatrician appointment, visits with the case-worker, and possibly visits with mom. I am ready and enthusiastic about taking on this part of caring for a foster baby! My husband and I have been waiting for this experience and here we finally are!

It is refreshing to know that these long years of projecting our desire to care for a baby has proved worthy and has finally come to fruition; the months and months that the empty bassinet sat next to my bed as I envisioned a tiny person occupying the cozy space. She is finally here and she is everything I ever wanted.

Why am I trying so hard to have kids.....?

Many women, myself included, who cannot conceive easily (or at all) day dream about what it would be like to have a child (or another child) to call our own. The baby that would make all the difference in our happiness, completing our family and enriching our lives! We dream about consistent loving care that we yearn to give a child or two. We yearn to hear "MOMMY;" to be wanted and needed....


Funny...quite a few events during this last week have made me seriously question my desires!

My doubts began last week with my step-daughter on her second day of school. My husband has to be at work before the girls can be on campus so I merrily offered to take them to school before going to work myself. I truly enjoy playing mommy with them, tending to their needs, even though they are soooo independent at 11 and 12 years old.

My new 6th grader needed help learning how to open a combination lock. I was happy to teach her and was giving loads of encouragement. The first few times that the lock refused to open, she began throwing a small temper tantrum, shaking the lock and stomping her feet. I gave her a moment to calm herself and then proceeded to go over the steps again. The dang lock was still not coming open and her tantrum became more pronounced and violent. I asked her to calm down and she proceed to yell "WELL, YOUR NOT TEACHING ME RIGHT!" This is not the only occasion I have been verbally attacked. I don't respond in the most compassionate tone to verbal disrespects........and then the question arose: Why am I trying so hard to have kids...?

My next glimmer of doubt came from a superlatively written, though devastating, memoir, Beautiful Boy by David Sheff. An amazing writer; sophisticated and genuine telling a true story about his smart, creative, handsome, beloved son...
... who is also a drug-addict.

This man loves his son, Nic, with his heart and soul and does everything in his power to help him, despite the stealing, the lies and incredibly manipulative tactics that become a way of life to drug addicted persons. His writing evoked emotional pain; the undying love for his "beautiful boy" who has so much potential, yet who continuously struggles with addiction.

After being sober for years, Nic will suddenly relapse without warning. David's suffering grows with every relapse, throwing him deeper into despair. But the love for his child never dwindles. How can it? A parent's love for their child is deeper than any feeling ever felt before. So how can a parent turn their back on their precious child, even after all of the lies, the violations, and upheaval of family that this child has caused? David showed constant struggle with the question of "did I cause this?"
Al-Anon says he didn't.

Why am I trying so hard to have kids....?



The last, and probably most significant, contemplation on this whole parenting idea was prompted by recalling my own nasty behaviors as a teenager. I was recently reading through journals I kept as a teen where I recorded every defiant, horrible thing I did. My parents were extremely lenient with me mainly because I earned decent grades, usually a 3.0 or higher, and was a cheerleader. They never thought their "precious little girl" would ever lie to them or experiment the way that I did. Eventually, though, they found most of the skeletons in my closet, throwing them into years of sleepless nights and questioning their parenting skills.
I squeamishly recall the nasty way I use to talk to them, and over the past couple of weeks am being talked to by my 7th grade step-child in the same disrespectful, "get out of my life" kind of tone.

Why am I trying so hard to have kids?

I called my mom and apologized.

So, those sweet smelling, cooing, "mommy" saying little babies definitely grow up. And there is a significant amount of time that they are definitely not sweet and add the words "LEAVE ME ALONE," "GET OUT OF MY LIFE," and "I HATE THIS HOUSE" (or statements to that effect) to the word "MOMMY."

That is NOT what I sign up for!!!

Oh ya; yes it is. When I signed the licence to be married to my step-children's father, I literally signed up for it. When I vowed to be with my husband forever in front of 152 people and vowed to be "the best step-mom I can" to my step-children, I made that commitment.

In sickness and in health, in disrespect and insanity.


To be fair, I have been incredibly fortunate to have yet to be told "YOUR NOT MY MOM." I am mistakenly called "mom" sometimes, which does give me a warm and fuzzy feeling. My step-kids may get attitudes, roll their eyes, talk back and argue, but I am finding that I have no need to take it personally. Apparently, it's the norm for this age. If I observe their behaviors when they interact with their father, I am tickled to find that they throw around the same attitude with him. For my sanity it is refreshing to know their behaviors are not (really) a personal attack on me.

And they do come with their sentimental moments; an unexpected hug; an "I Love You" before getting out of the car or going to bed, and even an "I'm sorry" in a concerned, genuine voice after bashing my attempts at parenting...Those are the moments I revel in.


No parent expects that their darling child will become unruly. And not all of them do. There are plenty of children who glide through their teen years and into their twenties with very little upheaval. All we can do as parents is our absolute best and nothing less! And most of the time it's really up to the will of the child!

During my apology to my mother, I asked her what made her want to have children. "To fulfill the need to procreate!"
I may not physically ever procreate, but despite my questioning during this last week, I still may want to raise my own kids; And all of the trials and tribulations that come with them.

What I have learned from other parents is that the love for your child runs deeper than any other love. It is painful to love that deeply, but can also bring joy like you have never felt before. I feel like I love my step-children that way, and inevitably will love my own children with an even deeper sense.

I am scared for them. I am scared for the heartache, peer pressure, exposure to mean kids and exposure to this not so ideal world. It is fear for their well-being that is questioning my desire to be a parent.

All we can do is our best; love and protect them in every way that we are able and hopefully give them the tools they need to deal with the crap that will come up in life. But along with the crap will come wonderful moments; first dances, boy-friends, (girl-friends), sports, arts, and academic achievements.

Nothing in life is really guaranteed, but here we are living on. The human race will most likely continue when we are long gone. And if we value ourselves and what we stand for today, we
must attempt to raise children to do the same.

And if they don't do the same, it's not our fault. We did our absolute best and nothing less! (At least we better have!)

The Jumpy Place

My godson, who is 5 years old now and going into KINDERGARTEN has been spending some quality time with me lately. He likes having sleep-overs at our house and just hanging out; (the endless video game playing he gets to do with Uncle Chris being a factor, I'm sure.) He is at such a fun age where we can actually have meaningful conversations about things like why he has to go to school and how to tell your right from your left. It is the coolest thing to see my best friend's child growing before my eyes.

Yesterday I picked him up for the afternoon. We went to McDonald's drive-through to pick up lunch, which is a special treat for him (and me), and came back to my house. We sat across from each other at the kitchen table eating our lunch, him enlightening me on how chocolate milk is made.

Being a little boy, he needs lots of physical activity. The temperature is over 100 degrees here and, unless you are in the water, you really can't comfortably be outside. So, we found a special place where we can go inside and have loads of fun! He calls it The Jumpy Place. It is this warehouse with a giant trampoline inside, probably the length of half a football field. And it is just a few miles from our house, making it that much more inviting to the adults.

For $10 a person you can spend an hour jumping, flipping, leaping; whatever your body allows you to do. Usually, I would just have him go jump with my step-kids while I sit on the sideline and read. But today it was just him and me.

"It wouldn't be that fun without you" he tells me as we're taking off our shoes. He then grabs me by the hand and says "Come On" in a sweet, friendly voice. I felt so special at that moment; so lucky to have him wanting me there.

Having grown up with a trampoline in my back yard, I had some tricks still hiding in this 33 year old body. As soon as I stepped foot onto the gigantic trampoline I went from serious, reserved adult to smiling, outgoing kid. Jumping in itself is thrilling; that fluttery feeling when your body is airborne. But the ability to still do flips that I use to do when I was 12, and my godson thinking I am cool because of it, is priceless.

We played jumping games, leaping games, and running and jumping off the trampoline wall games. I sweat like I had run a marathon and was clearly getting winded. But it was so much fun that I just kept going, not caring that my hair was dripping with sweat or that my body was tired and would certainly feel my flipping tricks in the morning.

Afterwards, to cool off, we each got a Popsicle that turned our mouths purple. He struggled with the over sized Popsicle on the ride home, his hands getting sticky, and some of it falling down the side of the seat. He was more worried about the mess than I was, an obsessive cleanliness trait he gets from his mother.

I am such a lucky girl to have such a sweet boy in my life. He is truly a bright light in my world and adds color to a life that is spent way too seriously. He brings out a side of me that is quite hard to get at; a freer spirit; a lighter outlook on life. I have found another way to move my spirit: an afternoon with my godson sharing meaningful conversation eating McDonald's lunch and some good quality fun at The Jumpy Place.