Looking back on the memory of...

Looking back on the memory of, the dance we shared beneath the stars above.  For a moment, all the world was right.  How was I to know that you'd never say goodbye... I'm glad I didn't know, the way it all would end, the way it all would go.  Our lives, are better left to chance.  I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss, the dance.


A year ago my life was hectic--and that's saying it at best.  I was dying inside from the busyness of every day life... feeling like nothing was ever done or good enough and still after the day was over I was "good"... even with the crazy dirty house, the chaotic marriage we had barely put time into, and the exhaustion (oh the exhaustion).  I truly never saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  I lived simply to survive that particular day... all so I could go about the next in true ground hog fashion. 

And then we decided that life might be easier if we minimized our insanity by one child... and send our precious little girl back into the arms of the woman who will forever love her.  We said a simple goodbye thinking not of the emotions that would overtake us (me) later, but of the need of simplicity that our lives drastically begged for.  We were down to a family of four, our two boys and us--mom and dad.  Nothing really changed, the stress level didn't so much go down, but continued to raise. 

At that point, I called in assistance--a behavioral specialist, who was going to teach me (in my own, fogged and distorted mind) how to discipline my crazy wild sons.  And the moment she walked in the door she knew what was going on... a lovely disorder called "sensory processing" (commonly known as sensory integration dysfunction).  Hearing that phrase, that condition led to a complete and total emotional meltdown on my behalf... and then with knowledge, came power.  We began seeing therapist upon therapist upon therapist so that we (I) could learn how to properly parent children with SPD (because, they both have it, yay).  The more I learn, the more I grow.  The more I grow, the better off my boys have become.

Which brings us into the more recent moments where I look at these amazing little boys that my heart has busted into loving more than the world will ever understand.  And I think of the movie "Riding in Cars with Boys" and wonder if I too was like that mother, who didn't understand or know if she truly loved her son... because it was so beyond the world of where she expected parenting to be.  I look back upon myself, in 2011 and wonder "how" and "why" and "you poor thing".  Because in those moments of 2011 and some of 2010... as my boys were progressing--I was pulling my hair out with the certainty that my life was over... and that it was simply--never going to get any better.  Sugar coat it anyway you want... my idea of parenting those little guys was simply "i'm in over my head and don't know what to do".

Now...

My boys are amazing.  I am PROUD of my parenting.  I am BLESSED to have two beautiful sons that I ADORE just about as much as they adore me.  My boys are SMART, they are HYSTERICAL, they are OBSTINENT and CHALLENGING but they are, more than anything, as perfect as I could have ever hoped for.  Because, and simply because... I understand what kind of mommy I need to be to parent them.  I understand that while they appear to have black and white issues, most of their life is grey and will forever be grey.

Joel is progressing in intellegence beyond any of my wildest dreams.  He can count to twenty, numerically and theoretically.  He can spell and nearly write his name.  He knows all his colors and so much more.  Kaeden has become more social and couragious, he's standing up for himself and learning to self soothe better than I'd ever hoped for him.  He's able to play, and ask for help, and know that "mommy's come back" no matter what...

In the days when I look at what life has handed me and think--this plate is full of crap... I need to look back upon those early days when I could barely breathe from drowning in my own cup of overachieving intent... and remember that tomorrow will be better than today, and that today is a blessing in and of itself, because it's an experience to learn and grow and to know better for next time.

God--thank you for the gift of seeing the past through the eyes of the future... for knowing what was wrong and how it was righted... and for the peace in the decisions for this future.

Every year there is a show that plays around Christmas time called "A Home for the Holidays".  It's about foster care and the blessing that it is.  It shows different families created through foster care and tells the story of how they became a family together.  I began watching it three years ago, as I became a foster parent myself.  Every year it gets to me, touches my soul and while it wells my heart with a gratitude that is so unexplainable, it breaks it as well.

I'd love to say that foster care was my first choice, above biological children, above international or private adoption... it wasn't.  I didn't get into foster parenting with the goal to "help" or "change someone's life".  I became a foster parent to adopt, to have a forever child, to love.  I'm no saint.  I am a good hearted, loving person... but no saint.  Not like these stories... but you know what?  I wouldn't do it any other way... and I sure don't ever want to parent in another manner (biologically). 

I heard a song tonight on this show that I hadn't heard before.  Rascall Flat's "God Bless the Broken Road". 

I set out on a narrow way, many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
Yes He did

I think about the years I spent, just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost, and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there, you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

But now I'm just rolling home into my lover's arms
This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you


It's funny how you think you're on one path, the goal in the end being the same thing and God has such a bigger plan, more amazing and perfect than you could ever imagine.  God sure blessed that broken road of infertillity for us... and brought us straight to our little boys.  I'm so grateful to be able to call them my children, and for them to be able to call me "mom".  I love them...

Sentiment of growing, looking back upon Christmas

The Christmas season is upon us and the realization that my babies aren't babies anymore kind of just hit me (as it does somewhat regularly, but today more than others).  I decided that before I lost the second set of Santa pictures, I should put it into our Christmas frame (seeing as how St. Nick's Day was last week and we're hellishly late on that type of decor).  When I grabbed out the frame, I saw pictures of Christmas past... and it made me realize these babies--they're little boys, progressively growing day by day into little men. 

Why do parents (or maybe it's just me) see their children and think that this day will be the same day forever?  Is it a coping mechinism to prevent us realizing that tomorrow they'll grow up, move away, and be adults?  Is it the denial factor that we want them to remain sweet (hah) innocent (occassionally) sheltered little ones that we can protect and love on, forever?  Why?

So, as I think about this season I'm looking towards next year already and the thought that these babies of mine will be 4 and 3.  How that's possible when they were both just drinking formula and trying baby food for the first time, is beyond me.  But, alas... they're growing up, getting more mature, and I'm loving and hating it all at the same time.