Oh the Bliss!

Me: Troy, you are NOT allowed to scream at the top of your lungs! Troy raises hand to ask a question. T: Am I allowed to scream at the bottom of my lungs? Me: NO. T: What are lungs? Me: Lungs hold air in your body. T: In my booty? God was so gracious with Troy when He formed him. He knew that Troy would struggle with anger and self control and would require lots of heart training and patience. He also knew that Troy would have a mom who is prone to yell, but has a weakness for humor. So God gave Troy super humor strength. The best part of this gift is that it shines in the greatest moments; moments when this mama would otherwise be tempted to scream and shout and throw a fit of her own. I will never forget my very favorite "anger-breaker"... Me: Troy, one day you are going to be accountable for your actions! T: AWESOME! I would LOVE to be a cannon ball!!! Thank you Lord for Troy and his humor. Thank you for his strength and passion. I cannot wait to see how you are going to

The kids and I were playing outside on this beautiful fall day when we heard little kids laughing just a few houses down. Ben scoped it out and sure enough the neighbors were out enjoying the day as well. We have lots of kids in our neighborhood, we see them all the time running and riding and laughing, but we have yet to stop and play because of one seemingly major factor: We don't speak the same language. Ben asked if we could walk down and see if they wanted to play and I hesitated for a moment, then remembered this blog I read yesterday and was inspired to step out of my comfort zone. We walked on down and I scrambled to dust the cobwebs off of my three years of high school Spanish. My kids walked up to the other two, a boy and a girl, and they all just stared at each other. Their mother was standing waaaaaaay off so I smiled and waved to her, she smiled and stayed put. Random spanish phrases flew around my head, but I tried to focus. I know where the library is, so "dond

When I get home from the foster/adopt classes I want to smother my kids with hugs and kisses. I want to let T play with my hair as long as he wants and get back in bed in the mornings so he can come and snuggle with me (something I sacrificed when I started getting up before the kids). I want to listen to Addie tell really long stories that I usually don't have the time to hear the end of. I want to play soccer with Ben, whoever gets to THIRTY wins - instead of whoever gets to five. I want to get down and look Mia in the eyes when I talk with her and hold her every time she says "Hold you mommy!". I go to these classes and I learn about our next child and maybe it was or maybe it wasn't held as a baby. Maybe it had dinner, but probably not, and if it did it most likely came from the minimart down on the corner. I learn about toddlers who hoard food because it's a survival skill they've acquired. T throws a fit and it lasts -at the longest- 5 minutes. I learn

My mom works in a lab at big hospital in Fullerton. Every Thursday a group of teenage girls from the local group home come in to get tested for drugs, STD's, pregnancy... the whole shebang. I told my mom to be really nice to these girls because one of them could be my baby's mama. That was a fun-scary-sobbering-exciting-close-to-home thought. I'm sure my mom was super thrilled to think about it like that. :) Thankfully, I know my mom will lean on the verse that she taught me as a child, "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you, not as the world gives, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be afraid." John 14:27 We know that whatever child we care for will be coming from a majorly less than ideal situation. If a baby is in foster care it's not that the mother is choosing to put it there, it's that the state is taking the baby away. And if the fostering leads to adoption, which is our hope, then the reasons why parental rights

A couple kids ago I realized the truth about Daylight Savings Time; It was invented by someone without children. It's been all over facebook, and everywhere else people can publicly complain about life, kids are getting up an hour earlier and yuckiness inevitably follows. Everyone I know with kids (EXCEPT the amazing Karis Wilson, who just might be the perfect child) was affected by DST in one way or another, so I figure this is a good time to talk about my "Bag of Quiet Fun". Mia is really loud when she wakes up. SCREAMS for me, then DAD, then BUBUH, then aaaaahDEEEEEEEEEEEE... never really for Troy, (sorry Troy!!). This wasn't that big of a deal until a month or so ago when I started deliberately wanting to wake up before her. I set my alarm for O'Dark-thirty and began to enjoy the quiet house for about an hour before she would stir. It's like she could smell me waking up. Within a few days she was waking up at o'dark-thrity as well. That's when I r