My Life as a Ninja Warrior part 1

We look "super" because of Brooke Photography!

Every morning I have a seemingly simple goal, to get my children out the door and on their way to school. In theory, there should be an effortless flow of events that achieve my daily objective. Yes, daily, wouldn't that mean that our tenacious troupe is in continuous training?  Our regular routine transpires six days a week. Sundays, the day of rest, is not immune to this rigorous workout. We wake up, come to the couch (we have a BIG one), Dad prays, we hug each other, then this team endeavor turns to individual events that must work in tandem to come together at the finish line. When they are all on their respective journeys, the closing of the front door is my big red buzzer declaring the completion of  my morning ambitions, during which I use every fragment of my faculties to reach. Sometimes I feel as if time will run out and the agony of defeat will envelop my morning when I must fetch my purse, load up the minivan, and transport my team to their individual destinations.

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My co-coach, the Hubster, Kevin, strives along side of me utilizing the abilities of our apprentices while strengthening our squad. To do that, we need to be aware of each individual's talents, what they need to work on, as well as train for. Thirty minutes into the morning events he is off to bring home the proverbial bacon. (see that Honey, I wrote a post about bacon, your fave)

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Eric: Our original obstacle, I have many years experience with. I know him so well that I should be able to achieve success blindfolded. Sometimes, though, in my overconfidence or his, this now smooth relationship finds an unexpected ripple that muscle memory is unable to overcome.

Emily: Being as she is away at college, she is the retro task in our marathon of mornings, a kind of novelty that has been studied for ages yet periodically makes a comeback and for a limited time only. She and I need to continue to train, for our encounters to remain effortless.

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Angel: The potential, oh the potential! Seemingly capable of accomplishing the simplest of tasks but often forces me to find a more amiable route around the hurdle set in my path. I continue my rigorous training in hopes that one day we can achieve greatness shoulder to shoulder as a true team.

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Allie: This mountain was a hard climb in an early, less experienced time. As we progress, together, we have begun to understand one another and often work together as the cogs in a fine-tuned mechanism. There are times, though, when she or I become a bit off kilter and the humming of our well-oiled machine turns to a hodgepodge of movement that hinders our desire to pull together.

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Joe: Our speed force. Running, running, running through life trying to compete with the big dogs. Often, his leg of the race is handled smoothly and efficiently. His attention is focused on the task at hand. Occasionally, though, his youth and inexperience produce a cocky, overconfident attitude that eventually trips him up thus affecting the entirety of the team. I am positive that, with continual training, he will one day be the anchor to our relay race of life.

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Jillian: This is our "slow and steady wins the race" teammate. She is consistent to a fault yet I admire her tenacity and sticktoitiveness. When she has her mind set on a task, she tries to take the time to do it right. The challenge is, getting her to set her mind on the task that achieves my parental goal. It is during her events that I am reminded to take my time and allow her to do what she needs to do. How will she get faster if she doesn't have the opportunity to practice?

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Ben: The new guy, is our assistant coach, cheerleader, MVP, and biggest stumbling block all at the same time. He is a big man in a little body, confident in what he doesn't know. Call out an instruction and he will repeat it and make sure the person addressed heard the mandate. Tell Jillian she needs to get her socks on, he will run ahead and find a pair that matches. Ask him to run on water, he will attempt it many times over to prove he can. Remind him to brush his teeth and he becomes a gelatinous puddle on the ground yelling "NOOOOOO!!!!"

Brooke of Brooke Photography

Then there is me, the MOM. Using the ninja parenting skills I have obtained over the years guiding this group each morning to attain the supposedly, straightforward objective of getting ready for the day. While spending practically every ounce of energy I had accumulated throughout my nightly slumber.

These are the people God gave me to work with, daily. We enjoy each other, we annoy each other, and we LOVE each other. Together, we make sure that our life is... 

"Never Easy Always Good"

  

Come back soon to see what the first two hours of my morning routine and it's expected and unexpected acts that make it interesting.

30 years? What the???

This is it, my old stomping grounds! Who is that funny guy there?

Here I am, well into the second leg of our return trip from my home town of Santa Barbara CA. It had been 15 years since I was able to spend any good amount of time visiting, reminiscing, and making new memories in that beautiful coastal city. There was that time, last December, when the Schulze clan stopped for half a day and a motel room to visit my sister and rest our travel weary bones. While we did get to enjoy the local zoo with my big sis, that was about it. For your information you know your brood is big when it is cheaper to buy a Zoo Membership for the fam than to pay entry fees for each individual person. Just sayin'. That pass did come in handy for this long weekend trip as the Hubster and I were able  to experience the animals without our minions. Yes, the two of us were on a well needed mini vacation to rest, recharge and ready ourselves for what ever God has in store for us. 

Senior photo. Can you say "Braces?"

Actually we probably wouldn't have made the trip if I hadn't paid for the nonrefundable hotel rate. I felt a tad bit guilty leaving just as the first week of school was wrapping up. The fact that Allie's 11th birthday was the actual day of the reunion didn't relieve my mom stress any either. Thankfully, Eric and Emily are more than capable of taking care of their younger siblings. Emily is one incredible big sister too. She made it her goal for Allie's big day to be something special. So I pushed the guilt aside and, with the much needed support of the Hubster, made the trip to relive those awkward days of high school.

The experience, though, really began inside of my closet. The outfit choices seemed so limited as I stared at the rainbow that is my wardrobe. To relieve my mind I began to recite this mantra "We are ALL almost 50. We are ALL almost 50." I tried to stalk some old classmate Facebook pages to reassure myself that mine was not the only post-birth, nonathletic, bread loving body that would be in attendance. I asked what to expect the attire of the main event would be. Then I came to the realization, there are only two of us going, I can pack what ever I want. So I did. I made sure the outfits would be ones my comfort level would be high in while camouflaging a few less flattering traits I carry around 24/7. Around midnight my head was hitting my pillow awaiting the 4AM alarm to sound for our 8 to 9 hour drive.

Photo booth fun with the Hubster!

We drove and my anxieties arose periodically. Those feelings of meeting new people whom knew of me at a time that was not my best. A couple of my core group would be attending but I was the only one going for all three events. A new message was playing over and over in my mind. "They aren't the same as they were in school." "Thirty years tends to mature people." "Don't put my own insecurities on others." I needed to assume the best. Unfortunately, my mind was listing toward preparing for the worst.

Walking in to the almost historic restaurant / bar I had done my best to appear like I belonged there.  Looking around, I did not recognize a single soul. The stools were filled with many patrons but how was I to know which ones had graduated from SMHS in 1984? Honestly, the thought of leaving was forefront in my mind. Then we spotted them, four people looking at others in the same manner I had been. Sneaking a peak at their faces, I had NO IDEA who in the world they were. Then, I heard it, ".....class of '84?" I found some courage and spoke to them.

We introduced ourselves. It was the men I had walked the halls of my Alma mater with for years. After we revealed our identities the veil began to lift. Though not people I hung out with, I certainly had classes with each. Their wives were sweet and talk of an eight hour drive soon flowed into family and career choices. A few more classmates showed up and then more. Before I knew it the poor wait staff was losing dinner tables to those there for drinks and appetizers. I  have to admit I mistook a fellow Royal for someone else. Commenting on his amazing trumpet skills.  Oops, right first name, wrong last. Oh well chalk that one up to experience. I did love the way he laughed, it warmed my heart.

Second from the left, that's me!

A star football player came up and introductions were had. I don't think he ever spoke two words to me 30 some years ago but this was pleasant. Then he mentioned seeing my family on Facebook. "How many kids do you have?" was soon asked. Talk about a conversation starter. The mention of parenting six children seems to take people aback. Following up with foster care, adoptions and Down syndrome, their jaws almost hit the floor. All of a sudden the man I would have never thought of carrying on a conversation with was all ears. He mentions overseeing the local CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) program as well as his appreciation of what foster families need to experience to be successful. I was blessed by his attentiveness. I do believe he used the word "halo" a couple of times also.

That night a few of my classmates recognized me, I saw a few appear to say "Who is she?" A few of them approached me and I approached a few of them. I was even able to use what little ASL I have gleaned from my years with "Signing Time." From locals to those from out of state, we all began to reintroduce ourselves. Soon, our eight and a half hour drive on four hours of sleep began to take it's toll. We finished our sodas and said goodbye until tomorrow. First event down and it wasn't that painful.

Not so suave but he sure makes me laugh!

The next night was the big event. The key words for this evening were "Taco Bar" that screams jeans to me. I put the dress and supportive undergarments to the side and pulled out the "tall" jeans to go with my heels. As we were getting ready the Hubster and I replayed our morning. We were driving down the main drag, contemplating the morning meal location when the phone rang. Answering it over the rental car's sound system the voice of a dear friend resonated from the speakers. He had driven in with his wife and child from Vegas. Remembering him more as the lovable comedian than the suave, international spy he is named after, I was eager to visit. He told us where they were waiting to have breakfast and the old Cindy appeared. "We should eat with you guys!" came out of my mouth instead of the polite, "Hey, would you mind if we joined you?" Soon the five of us  were sitting around the table the laughter slowly but surely emerging from our group. Then the memories and the "have you heard froms" began. The plan was formed to all go to the zoo, disguising his daughter as a Schulze for the day so we could take a little more advantage of our zoo membership. The old friendship became more and more comfortable. Animals, memories and jokes filled our conversation. We moved to another location and enjoyed our loved ones' experiencing what we had lived many times throughout our early lives. This is what I was looking forward to, uniting seasons of my life.

My friends put up with me!

Anxiety was only lingering when it came to arriving at the evening's venue. The Hubster, loaded down with my sophomore, junior and senior yearbooks. (class of "84 never had the "freshman"experience as we came in as sophomores and brought an entire freshman class with us) Our hostess for the weekend was amazing and so sweet. She helped me feel more and more comfortable every time I saw her. I have to admit, her encouraging others to read this blog brought on some confidence I hadn't packed at home.  Another old friend appeared like a cozy blanket. With sodas in hand, the three of us appropriated  an outside picnic table shrouded in scarlet red. Life's joys and sorrows were shared as we spent a short amount of time together. Unfortunately, he had to leave early due to health reasons. That left the Hubster and I to venture out. The yearbooks helped and boy were they popular. My "other half" found someone to discuss cars and racing with so I took that as a cue to head out on my own. Tonight, we all had much needed name tags fastened onto our chests. (It was entertaining to watch people stare at the Hubster's and try to remember him) The newest phrases "I remember you", "You haven't changed." (ha ha) and "I would have totally recognized you!" were music to my ears. The fears had dissipated and memories abounded. Watching future stories unfold made me laugh. The best part for me was getting to share our amazing family experience and encourage a couple of new friends in their amazing family. We headed back to the hotel after the Hubster witnessed a lady swinging around a pole resulting in a classmate's beverage laying on the dance floor void of it's contents. By that time the eagerness to join in on the next day's BBQ had set in.

The next morning consisted of a walk on a beach I spent much of my childhood on, breakfast with old friends, exploring the art vendors along a popular walk, and driving through neighborhoods I hadn't seen in decades. Our sweet weekend ended with a casual BBQ, more ASL and more friends.

Making more memories!

That brings me back to this moment. As I am typing away, hoping I don't lose everything due to my lack of Internet, tears stream down my cheeks. I spent most of the drive reflecting on what God was doing in my heart. The emotions were confusing me. Why now? I had enjoyed high school for the most part. Why would seeing these people cause such intense feelings? Sure there were those who didn't even look my way. Sure, one or two cut the conversation short finding various reasons to walk away. I realize now, it had nothing to do with who I am and everything to do with who they are. No, it was the much needed affirmation from those who inhabited a very vulnerable time in my life that brought this reaction. Those who saw something in this mom-of-six that interested them. Knowing it isn't the college degree, the labels on my clothes, the places we go, nor the things we own that make my life valuable to others. It is what I do with what my Lord has given me. He has given me children. I am a mom. A mom who doesn't fit into those size fives anymore. A mom who feels anguish over missing a birthday. A mom who needed this weekend to reflect on what is my life and the miracles that result.

Maybe at our 35th I will have another opportunity to explore the lives of those who were more distant. Until then, hopes of flourishing friendships, various visitors, and promising posts are beginning to fill my heart.

A Close Call!

The broken bone... or not?

We had a concern, was it fractured or sprained? In all of our 18 years of parenting, this experience had yet to cross our paths. Sure, we have had our fair share of bumps and bruises. Sure, we have had a child or two whom have had to be on the receiving end of a needle and sutures. The best was when one boy, at 18 months, decided to stick his finger in the sprocket of an exercise bicycle while his sister was peddling it. Our oldest even seemed to approach any church youth event as a challenge to come home with some type of injury. Now, even as a "legal" adult, that objective still remains. Up until this point, though, we had never waited upon the return of an x-ray and a doctor to interpret it.

The siblings involved (Joe is not that tall)

During this short stint of waiting, I began to ponder the result of my son's evening game of tag in the church parking lot with his junior high youth group, his tumble down the hill and his nonchalant, tough guy attitude that resulted. Well, that's one less hand for chores and complaints from others whom have to pick up the slack. I was already hearing the whining while the rest of the fam was enjoying our local pool, it is June in Arizona don't you know? Thank goodness we are on summer break, we have time for his writing hand to heal before schoolwork reoccurs. Oh man, and then there are the showers! Who is going to deal with that?

As I was contemplating the effects at home of a child in a cast, a small miracle materialized.  My ears weren't fooling me when they heard, "May I help you?" float effortlessly out of my middle girls lips as her older brother struggled with the dishes. "I'll tie your shoes for you!" said my youngest son who has an aversion to footwear with laces. These three, whom seem to battle continually, were willing to serve one another! I began looking forward to the possibility of "plaster" encompassing their brother's wrist. The revelation of the lesson that was on the cusp of understanding in my children's hearts, to serve and to be served graciously, excited me. The bliss I was about to experience as a mom enticed me!  

Then the much anticipated phone call rang through. What? A bad sprain? Ice it 20 minutes twice a day? Oh the whining and complaining that will be my life!!!

It's a Privilege

It happens to ALL parents.  If you have yet to experience this feeling and you have a child, I can guarantee you, junior is under the age of three.  Those of us without children, may have a special someone in our lives who invokes a similar emotion.  That shiver up your spine, or a cringe in your soul, can often be the result of just a few simple words, "Can I ask you a question?"  


As a mom of six, I have fielded a few doozies in my seventeen years of child rearing experience. Routinely though, the standards, "What's for dinner?", "What's it going to be like outside?" and "What are we doing today?" are multiplied as you can imagine.  So as to not lose my mind answering the same question over and over and over again, I have made an information board for my family to refer to.  Meals, day, date, weather, laundry and shower schedule, as well as the day's happenings are answered with the scrawl of a dry erase marker (as long as I don't forget).  When the majors are asked, I just point to the board.

Still questions persist. Thinking back, I have a few favorites...

"In other worlds, do red lights mean the same thing?"

"When are we going to see clouds, down low, with coyotes in them?"

"How does the sperm get to the egg?"  (OK, not my favorite but certainly memorable)

Then we have the conversation questions which usually begin with a misinterpretation of some sort.

Alize: "What's a cult?"

Mom: (with brows raised)  "What are you reading?"

Alize: "Little House on the Prairie"

Mom: (a tad befuddled)  "Bring it here. I want to see."

(Alize yields the book.)

Mom: (with a sense of relief) "Oh, it's a young horse."

Of course, Mom is the go-to-gal for ALL information.  The later we get in the day, though, my patience grows slim.  At some point during the past few years I had to declare all "What if..." questions banned after 7PM. They were making my brain hurt.


My answers?  I really try to be accurate with them.  As you can imagine though, I have used the "because I say so", "That is how God made it", "What if (insert child's name)?", "The last time I wore your shoes..."  Those oldie but goodie answers sure do come in handy at times.

Some of my kids are in unique situations, their questions are a little more challenging.  "Why don't I look like you?"  "What does my birth dad look like?"  "Where are my birth parents?"  Along with inquiries such as these are the underlying questions often connected to undesirable behaviors.  "Will they still love me if..."  "Will they still keep me if..."  "Will my consistent behavior receive a consistent response?"

This past week, just before bedtime, Allie came to me with heartfelt questions.  They were the kind where I had to separate my emotions and realize the response she was seeking in no way reflected on my mothering skills or upon how she felt about being a Schulze.  They were eliciting information about the essence of her existence.  My goal is always for my kids to love their birth parents because, when they do, they are loving on a part of themselves.  Due of this my answers need to be carefully constructed.

It all started with my daughter asking how much longer birth mom would be in prison.  Following my answer she enquired whether, after she was released, when birth mom was doing better, if she would go to live with her.  I told her, no, because she has been adopted by her Dad and I, she is a Schulze now and is an important part of our family.  She then told me she wants to live with her.  Now, Allie has been doing well in school and at home, so she's not in any trouble, therefore, no punishments have been doled out recently.  No, her inquiry is because she loves the biological attachment and the magical aura a birth mom can hold.  Me, I get down and dirty, my shine has become a bit tarnished, she knows my strengths as well as my faults.  So, I understand where she is coming from. Still, the "Why not?" question is not an easy one.

What comes next, I have experienced once before.  "If God knew what birth mom would do, and that I would be taken away, why would He even let me be born?"  I have never had my bio kids doubt the reason they exist.  This question has to be handled with extreme sensitivity.   "Mom and Dad can not make an Alize, she can not come from our bodies."  I answer.  "God needed birth mom and birth dad to make an Alize because He wanted a strong, sweet, creative, smart, beautiful, silly, caring girl that can only do things the way you do them."  I quickly follow with, "But, He wanted to protect her from the hardships her biological parents were experiencing as well as the choices they would make.  For that reason, God trusted Kevin and Cindy with this amazing little girl.  Why?  Because He knew they would love her forever and do their best to raise her to be an amazing young lady."

As these words flow from my lips, my heart breaks just a little for my sweet innocent girl.  Knowing the world is creeping in on her magical life makes my eyes tear and the beat of my heart heavy.  The turmoil she and her siblings endure are foreign to me and yet, I need to pause and nurture their broken hearts with scars that I can not see but only sense.  I need to step far outside of my selfishness and do what God has trusted only me to do, be Allie's mom.  It is a privilege that surely isn't easy, but definitely is good.

Joe: What You See Is What You Get.

"My life is an open book." is a saying that pretty much applies in my case.  Not that the life I live is perfect in any way nor am I free and clear of embarrassing moments, much less poor decision making.  Accepting all of the beautiful and the ugly that I bring to this world helps me ou t of controlccept the situations that appear in my life. It also helps me to know my strengths and where I may need to lean on others a bit more.  The weaknesses are actually something I cherish, although sometimes reluctantly.  It is through those deficiencies that God often does His best work in me.  It is through my shortcomings that He tests my trust in Him.  Have you ever wondered, when met with a life changing moment, if you would rise to the call?  My children are used quite often to answer that question.  Each member of our family has a different chapter in my book that is ever changing and used to mature me emotionally as well as spiritually. 

The "Joe" chapter of our lives began rather abruptly.  While on his morning commute to work, and during his weekly phone call to the newest grandparent addition, the Hubster found out the baby had been born and was currently residing with the birth mom who was yet to be freed from her addiction.  Being foster parents, mandated reporters, and the adoptive parents of the baby's siblings, our hands were tied.  Legally, we had to make the call.  During our subsequent phone contact, I remember telling the Hubster, "We need to pray about this."  Although that was never accomplished together, I know our hearts were united with our Lord's as the day went on.

My job, going direct to the solution and contacting our recently relieved CPS case worker, skipping that toll free number all together.  As I relayed the current news, I found the words, "Keep us in mind." flowing effortlessly out of my mouth.  Her reply, "Are you sure?"  Our first meeting with this amazing social worker had occurred only eleven months prior.  Since that original contact she had been a key player in our recent adoption of Angel and Alize, which blessed her heart after knowing them for two and a half years.  For some reason, I don't think my affirmative answer surprised her much.

That is when the pacing in literal circles began.  While on the phone with a dear friend of mine I realized my most recent newborn was on her way to double digits that year.  "What do you need?" was heard over the receiver.  "Diapers?" was all I could think of as my mind continued to spin out of control.  As I remember, our day was up and down emotionally.  The Hubster was prepared to leave work as soon as the call would come in.  Which it did later in the afternoon and he soon came home.  We then needed to pick our older three from school.  Number four

had been hanging out with me all day as usual.  A crazy, exciting vibe was hovering around our family. Just thirteen months ago we had two kids and now, we were just about to receive number five.  

After a couple of false alarms and a drive-thru dinner we decided to keep our Wednesday schedule in tact. Once we had our minds set, we got the phone call.  Where would we like to meet and receive the five day old boy?  We were on our way to church, so why not there.  That was just where they would drop him off.  We like to say, Joe was delivered in the church parking lot.  We had a baby.  

Soon, in the church office, my sweet friend hauled in five Target bags filled with everything I would need.  As we emptied them, one item at a time, we were able to share this special moment with a couple other ladies.  Our impromptu shower was as sweet and as unexpected as the bundle I was blessed with just minutes prior.

Joe's inception into the Schulze family was an adventure.  His infancy was no less exciting.  Our newest member was quite vocal.  His song of choice was more like screaming, OK, it was screaming.  Our sweet baby would scream for anything and everything and not just a regular scream, it was a bone chilling, I understand why some people can't handle this, kind of scream.  Joe had been exposed to methamphetamine daily for at least the first five months of his pregnancy.  I am sure these screeches were the result of that cause.  

The next year we would bond as mother and son, spend time in courtrooms, with social workers, and at doctor's offices.  We would share visits with biological family as well as other adoptive families.  We would endure, spine tingling screams, sleepless nights, and the anxiety linked with adoption through the foster care system.  We would give this boy his first haircut at three months, watch him stand and then walk, and discover that sign language would minimize the shrieking greatly.  We would snuggle him, cuddle him, and fall in love with him.  After fifteen months in our care, Joe became a Schulze.

Now, as we grow closer to his seventh birthday I look at my son and see an articulate, charismatic, affectionate little guy.  I see an innate protective instinct that will assure the safety of many in his future.  I see his love for family, friends, and God.  I see his self confidence as well as his timidity.  I see a sparkle in his eye and a spring in his step when he is enjoying life.  I see deep pain and sorrow when things go astray. He feels intensely and loves profoundly.  This boy lives life to it's extreme.  

Because of his living life on the so-called edge, I wonder about his prospective future.  I wonder about the possibilities.  I know that whatever he encounters, he will take it head on, with his whole heart.  There is not much grey area with my fifth child.  He either does or he doesn't, he either is or he isn't, he either will or he won't.  With Joe, what you see is what you get.

Deterring Deviations

This past week I spent my mornings sitting in the back of my 7th grader's class.  I did not go there to embarrass him, contrary to what he thought my purpose was.  I did not go to make sure he was doing the right thing by policing him nor to investigate his friendships.  I went to observe him in his natural surroundings.  I knew my presence, though, made the common habits of a 13 year old boy difficult.  Still, I had my eyes searching for any type of academic engagement.  

My son is quite capable of a "B" average, straight "A's" if he pushes himself.  In his circle of peers, though, it is not the popular thing to raise your hand in class, whether to ask a question or to give an answer.  I guess the teens are concerned with looking too smart or too confused. As a result, some bad habits, accompanied with matching grades, have begun to emerge.  My job is to help my son overcome previous choices, but such a task can be daunting and trying to produce new habits in this kid is not easy.  Fortunately, I am a parent committed to grow responsible young people.  

 I actually had a pretty good time at school.  I sat in my designated chair, opened my tablet and then developed a system to keep track of his involvement.  Next, I diligently invested my time on Pinterest planning dinners for the next couple of weeks (complete with grocery list). Texting the hubster to keep him filled in on all of the hand raising, answering and asking of questions was of severe importance.  I then kept up on facebook, noting the new things I learned like what an "ellipsis" is.  I also did some blog planning but did not have much time to actually write. All I really needed, was my physical attendance in the back of the class. Who really cared what exactly I was doing.  My son would rarely look back to see if I was still there, it was easier to be in denial if he didn't actually see me. Needless to say, my child's teachers noticed an increase in academic activity as well as appropriate behavior.  

It has taken me a few years but I have finally realized, why must the discipline initiated for my child be a punishment for me?  I began to see the need for me to retain my sanity.  So I try to make the most of my child's corrections.  I could have sulked in that seat.  I could have documented the deviations.  Instead, I sought out positive conduct and made sure my needs were met also.

After three days, three hours each, I have been asked to "pop in" anytime I want a few times a week.  Kind of keeping my son on his toes, so-to-speak.  Hopefully we can assist this boy in forming new habits both educationally as well as socially.

Today, I popped in, unannounced, went back to my chair and updated my grocery list.  Just prior to leaving for his math class, my son was invited outside to take a spelling test he had missed.  In his absence, I too became absent.  I did wait to leave the school, as he would pass the parking lot on the way to math.  I wanted him to see my van and anticipate me joining the class at any moment.  Instead, I popped into my vehicle, drove to the grocery store, pulled up that grocery list, and shopped for those dinners.  

Oh yeah, I actually had time to write today too!

Perfecting Their Skills

All photos by Brooke Photography

Brothers and sisters, sisters and brothers, part of my challenge as a parent is helping them to understand each other, not an easy task.  Usually things get loud, whether it's voices, doors, or dishes.  My inspiration for this post is continuing on as I type.  Alize is learning to load a dishwasher and Angel is teaching her, that situation in itself could power a small combustion engine.  The clattering of cookware, the sounds of adversity, the sighs of discontent can be deafening, at the same time, they are almost music to my ears, almost.

This arrangement is multi-facetted.  First, I have grown tired of teaching Angel the correct way to load a dishwasher and hand wash dishes.  I know, why would I have someone teach who hasn't seemed to have learned?  Having a feeling my son knew more than he lead us to believe, I made him the educator.  Wouldn't you know it, all of a sudden, he knows everything there is to know about filling the dishwasher.  Alize makes sure to ask plenty of questions when trying something new. Telling his sister how to do the same thing over and over is providing this brother with a life lesson in patience and how to handle frustration.  It's not easy explaining a task to someone, let alone discovering them doing it their own way in spite of the training provided.  Hmmmm, something I experience quite often.  These two are full biological siblings who came to live with us at the same time.  One would think, this commonality would provide a bond that would be unspoken.  Not so, in fact the opposite is quite true.  It is a rare moment when this pair is in the same place, doing the same thing in a harmonious manner.  Which brings me to my final purpose, simply, getting along with one another.  Forcing this brother and sister to work together will, hopefully, encourage some type of mutual understanding and hopefully, trust.

As the din dies down between the middles, my biggles start in.  Emily has a math project she is working on and is, rightfully so, very proud of her endeavor.  Eric, a calculus student who loves the numbers, was adamant in his ideas, much to Emily's dismay. My persistent son's voice grew louder while Emily emphatically declined his assistance.  Fortunately, these two figured each other out years ago.  There's has been a partnership that, until recently, ran very smoothly.  You see, Eric likes to win and Emily is not comfortable with confrontation.  Eric likes the spot light and Emily prefers supporting roles.  Over a decade of their lives was spent with Emily seceding to her big brother in just about everything.  We had very few arguments because, there was no need.  The challenge now exists due to Emily's burgeoning independence.  Eric is beginning to acknowledge his younger sibling's right to be right, although it hasn't been very easy for him.

"The Littles," Joe and Jillie are in a similar situation.  Jillie adores her bigger little, as he does her. Looking across the couch at the two of them,  watching "Go Dog Go" be recited for the millionth time in our home, her head resting on his chest as he peruses the pages, is enough to make this mom well up with pride.  There are many times, though, that this eager first grader wants to lend his sister a helping hand when she swats it away and snaps back at him with a "NO".  Her autonomy gets in the way of his authority quite often.  Nevertheless, Joe sure does love being a big brother to his sweet sister.  Personally, I think he has been her favorite from day one.  After all, his was the first name she could say.  He is the one that will be at home with her the longest.  It's not coincidental that it is "a hug from Joe" that Jillie's teachers give as an incentive to help her make good choices through out her day.  Stickers, candy, stamps don't stand up to the allure of a quick cuddle from her brother.

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I love that my boys all have a younger sister to learn how to protect and take care of all while figuring out just how strong and independent they really can be.  I love that my girls all have a big brother to look up to and help mold them into the men God wants them to be.  At the same time the young ladies in my house get to allow my young men to practice emotions they will need some day as they all find wives.

My kids are perfecting their skills socially, the girls are learning how to deal with boys as the boys learn how to handle the girls.  Eventually, they will all use what they have been taught away from home, in college, their careers, their marriages, and their families.  My hope is that they will have prepared each other well.

Today, I wrote a letter.

Today, I wrote a letter...
A letter that had been waiting a couple of years to be sent.
A letter to someone who, I am sure, has been waiting to hear from me.
A letter that in no way can express the events nor the emotions that have occurred since the last we spoke.

Today, I wrote a letter to a young lady who entered my life in a very unexpected way.  I never would have thought she would have become so important to me personally. I am sure, she never thought she would ever be appreciative of me.

This young lady has taught me more about God's love, mercy and grace than anyone else.  She helped to teach me that He views each of us as the same as well as individuals.  Her life has shown me His hand directs us all even when our priorities are farthest from Him.

I have seen God guide the hearts of others into prayer, because of her.  I have seen God strengthen people because of her.  I have seen God encourage the lives of others because of her.

Today, I wrote a letter to the mother of three of my children. Accepted by us as family a few years ago but confined due to her choices less than two years since.

My letter reminded me of how much I love her.  It reminded me of the hope God has given me for her.  It reminded me of just how strong I am when I am in His will, as well as how weak I am when out of it.  It reminded me to continue to pray for her, for her family as well as for myself and for my family.

My hope is that the woman I prayed with to accept Jesus as her Lord and Saviour would be so strong in her walk when she is free.  My hope is that right now, even though bound, she knows just how free she truly is. My hope is that my children will be given the chance, once again, to reunite with her as a part of our family, as well as to be proud of what they are made of.

I ask all who read and believe to hold this young woman up in prayer.  I see such potential in her and her future. I hope, one day to introduce you all to her as the success that I know she can be.