Anniversary

We just celebrated our 28th anniversary!

By the way, if you want good babysitters, I know the trick. First, have a couple of great kids who are terrific with kids. Wait 'til they grow up. Then get more kids and have the first kids babysit the second kids.  It's brilliant! That is my cheeky way of thanking our two adult kids for watching our three growing kids.

We went to a hotel two miles from our home and it was magnificent! We napped! We slept 'til we woke up. We talked about kid things and not-kid things. I decided I will start writing my own homeschool curriculum for the girls! (I'm kind of excited about that one!) We remembered the details of our wedding day and the days just before and after. We played games and watched TV. 'Twas marvelous!

I had a vision ages ago that continues to be true today.  We had just gone through some broken friendships that also broke my heart. Then I saw us as if we were on a boat. We had been knocked around, soaked and battered by ferocious winds. As things died down, we managed to stand and look back. There was a maze of whirlpools, monsters, icebergs, and jagged rocks.  I had thought the danger had been from all the weaving the ship had done.  But it was weaving to avoid all those life-threatening dangers. We were being kept safe!

I am so thankful to my hero, living all the stages of life with me. I think there are things that are so far removed from the two people who made vows that it boggles my mind a bit. Being married for life is not a guarantee for anyone these days, but Brian early on decided we would banish the notion of divorce. I think that saved us.

His commitment to our marriage meant that even when things were hard, I knew I had that stability. I could be weak, wrong, and wrecked. But my husband stood strong.  He could screw up, but I wouldn't give up. Knowing we are in this unconditionally means we know it's worth the work that is necessary for any relationship. Not working on it was self-defeating. So, we work, we pivot, we talk, we apologize, and we forgive.

This stability is the biggest gift to our kids. They can do all the things, big and small, good and bad, but this family will always be here for them. 

Please don't mistake this for bragging. I don't deserve the blessings I enjoy. I tell you about this all with big-eyed wonder. I look back and see the dangers we avoided and shake off the goosebumps. We've made it this far. By God's grace, we will keep going.

March: 2024

Last year, in March 2024, the chaos of fostering was replaced by the chaos of adopted life. My husband picked up a part-time job working on the weekends.  He had to stop attending church. We were on our fifth! I really liked this one, and hoped we would belong for reals soon. My personal prayer life and Bible study were steady.  Perhaps the only steady thing. I knew God was faithful. I knew God wasn't surprised or overwhelmed. I knew He saw, He cared, He supplied.

We had one daughter in a slightly better daycare. I have NEVER had a child in daycare; it was a cocktail of ego-bruising and learning-curve that I did not enjoy.  I have been the daycare provider countless times. Now I was the working mom, exhausted and spread too thin.  What did I care if it was crazy socks day? I was trying to survive.

We had one daughter with me, enrolled in my AM Kindergarten class and my PM PreK class.  It was wonderful spending the whole day with her. She learned how to read, about Jesus, how to play with other kids, and gained some emotional intelligence. We had her in therapy and got some clear diagnoses for a few special needs. Her growth and development that school year was astonishing.

Our middlest child was attending second grade at the public school down the street. Thank God for her first- and second-grade teachers! Both invested in her, rooted for her, and did their best to provide a safe place for her. I also have NEVER had a child in public school. Another blow to my pride and confrontation with inadequacy.  

Our adult daughter was settling into a new job as a vet tech after returning from Sierra Leone on a teaching trip with my mom. It was a lot, but she has enough stubborn in her that when things get hard, she fights. Our son hit a roadblock in December and was recovering from a mental health crisis.  When the kids hit 18, you are not finished parenting. It gets more nuanced. You're backburnered when things are good. When things get rough, you can only persuade and pray your butt off.

God bless all the working moms. It is so much to juggle. And what on earth are you supposed to do when someone gets sick, huh? The life feels impossible.  But, as I mentioned, I had the Best Job Ever, so my boss and coworkers helped me way beyond the call of duty.  

In March, I was still recovering from a concussion I received one morning when the back hatch of our car fell on my head.  I still struggled with fatigue and word salad.  Life was good, but also really, really hard. 

There was always at least one girl going through something that required all of our attention. I felt continually inadequate like I was drowning.  And ungrateful, because I knew my life was good. I was complaining about my blessings.  But my blessings were smothering me.

What a March!

March: 2023

So, in March '22, we were living the dream. We were doing whatever we wanted to. I was looking for a different job, and trying to find a way to fit in at church, but life was easy--except for the unending illnesses we kept contracting from sick preschoolers. In the eight months I worked there, I had Covid twice, Bronchitis three times, flu, colds, pink eye... It would have been laughable had laughing not triggered breathless coughing fits.

If we fast forward to March '23, the list of changes in our lives was long! My daughter moved into her first apartment, oof! I earned a Master of Science degree in Learning Experience Design and Educational Technology. I got a new job (called The Best Job in The World--outside raising kids) working at a preschool a mile from my home as a 3s teacher two mornings a week, a 4s Assistant one morning a week, and a PreK teacher every afternoon. 

I need to pause to say how serious I am about it being the Best Job Ever. That PreK class was phenomenal! My boss was the most supportive and encouraging boss I'd ever had. And my coworkers? I've never met an entire crew of people so wholly dedicated to loving and teaching children. The board (fewer accolades there, tbh) had just approved opening a Kindergarten class for the following year, so my boss and I were dreaming and brainstorming curriculum, advertising, and schedules. So fun!

Oh, and I need to add another little change to the list of happenings from '22 to '23. We got licensed for foster care and were adjusting to doubling our household with three—THREE—little girls! What?!? How did that happen? We were done. Foster care had shredded our hearts. We were in retirement and nearly empty nesters. We were going to travel. I got a cool degree that I could use to do anything. We were dancing.

Well, I will tell you. Roe v Wade was overturned. The church we were attending had a guest speaker who said there was a difference between being pro-birth and pro-life. Being pro-birth was not enough.  To be pro-life, we needed to meet people as they were living through difficult times, "from womb to tomb." 

There could possibly be an uptick in unwanted babies born. It is an awful thing to be unwanted. My husband was deeply moved and announced that afternoon that if God allowed it, we were going to adopt so we could be a home where kids would know they were wanted. Wow! 

So here we were in March, planning a massive uptick in my commitment to work while fostering three little girls we desperately wanted to adopt. In March, we had gotten word that perhaps they would go back to their first parents. I was an emotional wreck. We never intended to actually foster again.  We wanted only adoptable kids. The girls themselves had heavy burdens of trauma, delays, and needs. Caring for one was more than a full-time job. Three? Fugedaboutit.

What a March!

March: 2022

We are scooting along through the years. Between 2021 and 2022, we fostered twins, quit all our jobs, and moved 2,000 miles away. I got a job working at a terrible day care with wonderful people. My students were precious, their families generous, and my co-workers exceedingly special. But the system stunk and the center eventually went under.

I had the wonderful pleasure of partnering with my son in the classroom for a while there. By March, we were actively job-hunting. My daughter was doing brave things working in service to people with special needs. My husband was enjoying retirement. We were learning how to ballroom dance!

We were on our third church by then. I was having a hard time finding my place. That was a new challenge for me. I've had struggles in many churches but never had a problem with just finding a church. I felt stiff-armed and unwelcome. I couldn't find an inroad as a working woman. On the other hand, my husband was veritably collecting men's Bible studies. He joined and continued in each group as we church-hopped.

It was difficult and wholly unfamiliar to not have a church family. It stood in stark contrast to the one we had just left. The members of our small group are people my new daughters know and pray for.  They are phenomenal and I am staggered by the lavish love of our Father to let us be in that group that is now scattered across the states. I love them all so much. And their love has sustained me through this weird church-drought we are experiencing.

During this March, we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary by taking a sleeper train to see Niagara Falls. It was dreamy. Life was dreamy. We were living our happily ever after. What a March!

March: 2021

I hope you're enjoying this walk through the years. I hope it is sparking your own memories, bringing smiles and healing. 2020 was difficult for most of us, bringing--brace yourself for that most overused word--unprecedented changes to how we did life.

By March 2021, we were finding--here's another oft-used buzzword--a new normal. I'd made over 250 videos reading books to the refugees. I was going into the homes of several Afghan families to bring books, playdough, and companionship. One family in particular had five boys who were struggling with the lockdown, so my son and I partnered to tutor them three times a week.

The church had started meeting on a smaller scale; I was coordinating 50 volunteers for only two services. I had a very unique opportunity to start a children's ministry at a well-established mega-church. It was fun training and establishing community, balancing safety and the need for community.

My husband was looking at retirement and the four of us were researching other states to find our next home. There was no way we could afford to stay in California. We were in a small window where we were going to be able to move with our adult children to start the next chapter.

And then, on March 3--my late sister's birthday--I was changing the bulletin boards late one night while my kids were attending the college Bible study. And we got a call. I'd honestly thought our foster license had lapsed. We'd been through the wringer with the agency and returned to the county. But we never got a placement. And now, two-year-old twins who needed a home tonight.

Or maybe they were 18-month-olds? No, they were three. Whatever, after praying together, we said yes. I grabbed my kids and we ran to Wal-Mart on the way home to buy two car seats and a crib. They wouldn't fit in the car with the door closed, so my kids had a harrowing ride home, holding unwieldy boxes and the back hatch.

We threw that crib together, racing the clock before the girls showed up. My daughter and I met them in the parking lot. When we heard their spunky names, we were suddenly unsure of even their gender. 

But girls they were, and after a few days we learned that they were 14-month-olds. Born in late 2019, with four older siblings schooling at home on Zoom, they spent much of their life at home in a pack-and-play, so their development was a little delayed.

And that was our March. Learning how to parent twin toddlers who we jokingly called ricochet for all the bouncing their heads did off our walls as they learned how to talk. Biological family visits, illnesses, doctor and therapist appointments, and court dates. It all came back.

Our daughter moved in with close friends because of the legality of the twins sharing a room with an adult. I continued working at the church. And we continued our work with the refugees.

What a March!

March: 2020

Ah, 2020! How you changed the world!

We were no exception. Looking specifically at March is what made me realize that the month of March has been so pivotal for my family. In 2020, both my kids were graduated and I had my degree. I was...retired? I was exploring a new chapter of life and enjoying the crap out of my husband and adult children.

In the fall of 2019, I was invited to head up the childcare portion of a new program our church was participating in. We were offering ESL classes to Afghan refugee women. I felt like I was made for this and was electrified about the whole thing. I love languages and ate up the training on language acquisition, cultural differences, and pre-literate versus illiterate learning. Oh, my goodness! It was all so utterly fascinating to me.

My job was to provide care for the preschool children of these women and lead the group of volunteers doing the same. I had just completed my BA in Educational Studies the previous summer (thank you, WGU!), and we had drunk through the firehose about trauma in our foster training. 

I knew how to design and teach preschool in my sleep. That part was easy and fun. But then I got to tie in all the other things I had been learning. These children were so very special, having been through trauma, not knowing any English, and never being separated from their mommas. All these components meant the need for specific care, and I absolutely loved every moment of it!

Actually, I almost quit because initially, the focus had been ESL for women. My job was to just keep the kids away so the mommas could learn. But these kids had never been away from their moms before. They would cry inconsolably in the arms of strange women who spoke gibberish. Of course! I couldn't stand the idea of furthering their trauma, so I went to the pastor in charge and asked to quit. I might have cried.

And he might have laughed. He said if I was crying for these kids, then I should be the one providing care for them. He helped me coordinate with the ESL teachers so the kids could trust us and come to love the classes we were doing for them. Ah, it was magic.

By March, the kids who would scream endlessly in our arms were now bouncing happily into class to sing, paint, and play. It was so exciting.

That was when I was offered the position in the church leading the birth-Kindergarten children's ministry. Wow! I told them they didn't want to hire me because I wouldn't sign membership papers. They said they would never ask me to do something against my conscience. I said they didn't want to hire me because I was still a licensed foster parent and if we got a placement, that child would be a priority. They said I wasn't their first working mom, and I could bring children to work with me. I said they didn't want to hire me because I have POTS, and the heat makes me faint. Our church held big outdoor events throughout the year, and I struggled when the temps got into the high 80s. They said that we could work around it. Welp, I said yes!

My first week I cut out thousands of little shamrocks in anticipation of St. Patrick's Day. I worked for a mega-church where I would be coordinating over 75 volunteers to teach at three services, so I am not exaggerating about the number of shamrocks. And before those little green beauties could ever be used, the world shut down.  It seemed unbelievable. How could we actually shut down the whole city? It happened...but only for two weeks. We deep-cleaned classrooms, the hamina-hamina-massive resource room, and then all the other little storage rooms nestled all over that colossal building. And we remained shut down.

It was time to pivot. I learned how to teach preschoolers from another language and culture on Zoom. And we started making packages for our church kids. 

What a March!

My Little Dream

 My Little Dream

Did I mention I got a new-to-me van?  It is very exciting—in a thrilling and nail-biting way.  Our insurance went up unexpectedly, and I worry I hurt our family trying to afford a second vehicle.  AND at the same time, I live in a state of relief because I can get us out of the house.  If there is an emergency, I have a van with car seats and I am ready to go.  (If the emergency is that we have been cooped up far too long and we need to get out to avoid carnage, so be it.)

Well, I have been doing a little dreaming with this newfound freedom. I want to travel.  My bigs and husband all have to work, so it is not feasible to get us all vacationing together.

Next year we will have a fourth-grader, which means National Parks are free for the family.  I’ve never been to a National Park, despite growing up in a state with one of the highest numbers of them.  Now we live in a state with zero. 

For my first trip, I want to go west so the girls can meet their new family members.  In subsequent years, I would like to go east to visit beloved friends and perhaps see historical monuments to align with our school when the next one is in fourth grade.

My oldest daughter and I mapped out a route to see people we love plus six National Parks and 13 states!  Since it’s dreaming, we also hit Disneyland and the ocean—because how can we go so close without visiting? Drive time alone is just under four days.  Can I do it?