Let's just have a good cry.

This blog post is not really about us fostering or adopting. I just just had my first very irrational melt down this pregnancy. I've cried plenty of times, but I think most of them I had a fairly good excuse. But now, as I sit laughing at myself, I just thought I'd share with you all.

First of all, let me tell you about my day. I'm exhausted. For those of you that don't know me well, I'm a bit of a clean freak. Not that my house is always clean, but it really gets to me when it isn't. I get cranky, and I feel claustrophobic when the house is a disaster. Even as a kid, my close friends called me a perfectionist and a neat freak. I used to clean my sister's rooms just because the mess bothered me. In my current state, I am just not able to keep up. I'm slow, so it takes me at least five times longer to accomplish anything, and it piles up and makes me crazy. So either I completely wear myself out cleaning, or I live in squalor. Today I over-did it. I washed, folded, and put away 3 loads of laundry. I cleaned the kitchen. I took out trash. I picked up toys and shoes, and cups, and everything else laying around the house. I can't even figure out how it gets so messy so fast. And all the while, little J is following me around dragging things right back out. During her naps, I went outside to try to finish up the weedeating. I am utterly and completely exhausted. My hips are killing me. And I haven't showered.

So car line time rolls around. I've been showing up at the school a little later lately because our school's car line is ridiculous, and when I sit in it for 30 minutes, poor baby in the back seat doesn't like that. So I show up right at the very end when it's about over. I pull up to the school with no intention of getting out, and there's no one outside. My heart just sinks. I sat there for a couple more minutes hoping that my kids would see me out the window and come running out. That doesn't happen. I mutter not nice things under my breath, and climb out of the van. Now, I'm wearing non-maternity XL sweatpants. My t-shirt that Alison tye-dyed for me 15 years ago might as well be a net shirt with all the holes in it. My hair is a mess, and I stink. I look down at myself. My shirt doesn't even cover half my belly, so I have to hike my sweatpants up past my belly button. Like, I have a wedgie for the history books. That makes my fat, swollen ankles stick out of the bottom like I'm expecting a flood. At least my pedicure still looks good. I take baby J out of the van and try to hold her in a way so that she's covering the most holes in my shirt.

I waddle inside the school, peek inside the office window, and there they are. Chase sees me immediately, and they try to run out to me, but Mrs. Trunchbull blocks them with her arm in the door way and tells me I have to come in and sign them out. Are you kidding me? I'm like 2 minutes later than usual! I gulp some air, and walk into the office, full of people. There's a lady signing her kids out in front of me, so I stand there and wait. She must be writing a novel or something, what in the world is taking her so long?! Chase reaches for J and says, "Let me hold the baby!" "No!" I whisper-snap to him. (She's covering the holes in in my shirt.) He reaches for her again, and shes leaning out of my arms trying to go to him. "Stop it! I"m holding her!" I snap again. Finally the lady in front of me finishes, and I sign them out. I rush out of the building with my head down feeling mortified. Chase asks me why I'm in such a hurry, and I just lost it. I told them I was just tired and cranky, and just saying that makes me burst into tears. I buckle everyone in, and drive home, trying to wipe away tears as fast as they fall. The kids ask me whats wrong, and I just reply with the usual, "Nothing."

We pull into the drive way, I wait for the kids to get out and get the baby out. As soon as the doors close, that was the moment I was waiting for. I start sobbing hysterically. I just needed to cry and let it out. I sob loudly. It feels good. A couple minutes later, the passenger door opens, my husband climbs in, and just sits there patiently. At this point, I'm ashamed. Now I know I'll have to explain why I'm crying. I continue to sob, snort and sniffle a few minutes more until I'm able to regain my composure. He asks me if I'm okay. I told him I was fine, just tired and embarrassed to tell him why I was crying. And of course, he responds with, "Don't be embarrassed! I understand you have hormones going on." So I tell him about how I had to walk into school looking like this, and how Chase kept trying to take the baby, and I just wanted to hold her to cover up my holey t-shirt, which by the way, was impossible. Then he says, "Well, at least you had a bra on." That made me laugh and cry at the same time. We laughed together for a few minutes, then head inside. I told him I was headed straight for the shower, and as I close the door, I hear Chase ask, "So what did you find out, Dad?" I'd love to hear what he said.

Don't worry, I'm in bed now with my feet propped up. My babysitters are home, and doing a fantastic job of entertaining, and I'm trying to rest. And please, I know there are those of you that will tell me to not over do it, and take it easy. I don't want to hear it. I don't do it on purpose, but seriously, I have three kids. Unless you want to hire me a maid and a cook, things have to get done around here!

Parenting Class

Baby girl J has been with us for 6 weeks now. It has been absolutely amazing having her back. I missed her so much, and it just feels like our family is incomplete without her. She's a little mess, but she is so stinking cute, so it's all worth it!

You guys know I'm a huge advocate for foster care. Fostering has its challenges for sure, but it's so rewarding, and we can do so much good for these kids, even if it is for a short while. We are with the Boys and Girls Homes, and I love them. Our social workers are amazing, caring, understanding women, and they have been a huge support to us in tough times. If you are interested in fostering, or maybe you aren't sure, but out of curiosity would like to know more, these ladies would love to come out and talk to a group of you, your church, or whatever, and just tell you more about what they do and how the process works. I know there is a lot of interest because I have had so many people reach out to me because of our story and my blog wanting more information. Let me know, and I can get you in touch.

Every year the Boys and Girls Homes have a foster parent training day, and this was our second year going. Both times it has been amazing. We learn so much about parenting, from tough, damaged kids to our own fairly well-behaved kids. We took the kids with us this year. As I dropped the kids off at the babysitting station, I worried about baby J being without us for 5 hours, like she couldn't survive without us. I gave her a kiss and walked out the door while she yelled, "Mama! Mama!" 5 1/2 hours later we walk in there to pick her up, and 5 teenage girls run up to me saying, "Oh my goodness, is this your baby?! So is SO cute! We were all fighting over her. We just love her! Everyone wanted to hold her!" I look over at J who is just babbling and flirting and charming everyone. You guys, I wish I could post a picture of this baby for you all to see, but trust me when I say she is so stinking cute! And you know I had her nails painted, her chunky bead necklace on, her rhinestone sandals, and a big ole flowery headband on her. She is a diva, and what can I say, I've always loved dressing up baby dolls! =P

Anyways, I'd like to share a little of what I learned this year. This is probably going to be a huge shock to some of you, but I'm not what you would call a morning person. I'm more of a morning monster, and I'll be honest, my poor kids suffer because of it. My husband is a night owl because of personality and work, so the mornings are all up to me. I roll out of bed after hitting snooze as many times as possible, cursing myself because I've overslept and now we have to rush. I go in their room and yell at them to "Get up right NOW or you're going to be late!" (Like it was their fault.) I scramble around the kitchen getting lunches together, making sure bags are packed and so fourth. I change J's diaper, yell at them that they better be out here in TWO MINUTES or else they will regret the day they were born, and grab them a granola bar because we didn't have time for breakfast.

As we get in the car 5 minutes later than we should have, I lecture them the whole way to school about how irresponsible it is for them to sleep in and make us rush to school, and almost late every day. As I speed through yellow stoplights, think about flipping off several other drivers who have the audacity to get in front of me and drive slow, and groan in frustration at the long car line, the boys just sit quietly nibbling on their granola bars. As we pull up to the drop off spot, I tell them I love them and to have a great day and learn a lot. I'm sure that gives them warm, fuzzy feelings after being yelled at all morning. I drive home feeling guilty, and I pray for forgiveness, and tell myself tomorrow morning will be better. What a terrible example I am! How short I fall in showing them God's love and patience and kindness! This is not our story every morning, but it does happen sometimes, and when I am cranky, I can find it very hard to control myself.

Yesterday's big lesson was basically this: The quickest way to change a child's behavior is to control your own. Bam. There it was, in my face. I have a terrible time with that sometimes. When I am particularly tired, stressed, and have had a bad day, I am a terrible mom. The boys will be fighting over something, usually one particular angel irritating the snot out of the other one, and when I've had enough, I will SLAM the pot down that I'm cooking in, STOMP over into the living room, and yell at them that, "IF YOU CAN'T CONTROL YOURSELVES, YOU'RE GOING TO BE IN THE WORST TROUBLE OF YOUR LIFE!!!" What am I communicating to them? Because I'm certainly not modeling self-control. It sounds so obvious, but in the heat of the moment, I forget myself, and my ugliness comes out. I am so thankful for my savior who has covered all my sins, past and present, but I feel so sorry for my kids who still have to endure my sin! Cory and I talked on the way home, both feeling very convicted. We came up with a code word to use in case one of us is starting to loose our patience and our cool. And I am asking you all to pray for us too. Parenting can be so hard sometimes, right? Especially when the one who is supposed to be a good example is failing miserably!

Another good thing we learned was sometimes discipline, which means 'to teach', is better served as a patient lesson rather than a consequence. If your child is obviously upset and says something rude and uncalled for, instead of jumping on them with, "You don't speak to me that way, you are so grounded!" try this. "I know that you know what you just said to me was wrong. And that tells me that whatever it is on your mind is bothering you more than any consequence I could give you. So here's what I want you to do. Grab some chips, I'll grab the salsa, and we'll meet outside on the patio in 2 minutes so that you can tell me what's upsetting you, and I can help you find a better way to deal with it." That teaches the child 2 things: How to deal with issues rather than taking them out on someone, and that they can always come to you when they are upset. How likely will they come to you when they need you if they know you're just going to yell, get mad and ground them? And some kids listen better when they aren't looking you in the eye. There was so much more that we learned, but it was a 5-hour talk, so I'm not going to repeat it all. But seriously good stuff!

This week I am praying intentionally for myself, my husband, and all the other struggling parents out there. Parenting is hard, but it's the most important job that we have. But I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!