Category: motherhood

At The End of My Life

photo (51)We have survived our first week and a half with an additional little one living in our home.  Having three children under the age of six years of age and a full-time job outside of the home has made for some interesting changes in our schedules and time spent on various tasks.  From Legos on the table to semi-folded laundry piled on a chair to baby wipes dispersed throughout, one can tell our lives have been a little hectic lately.  Let’s just put it this way, if you were to walk into my home, you would certainly find the remnants of childhood scattered throughout.

My mom stopped by this afternoon and before she could enter the living room, I found myself issuing an apology of sorts for the way the house looked.  Before I digress any further, I should tell you that I’ve never been one to have a perfectly clean home at all times.  Life is not perfect.  I am not perfect, and, in my opinion, homes certainly need to look as though they are lived in.

After weaving our way through the living room, stepping over a few toys, and entering the kitchen (which was equally “lived in”), I said to my mom, “I’ve decided that no one will say “Caroline sure kept a clean house” at my funeral.”  My mom (whose home is almost always immaculate), agreed with this statement by saying something to the effect of “Yeah, you’re right.  They won’t be saying that.”

Now, one might take offense to this, but I don’t.  The truth is that is not what I hope people say at my funeral anyway.  I don’t want to be known for neatly folded towels.  The towels are clean, they are good at drying off the kids, and well, they serve their purpose.  I certainly won’t be known for clutter-free floors.  I have a boy who loves Legos and any other small knick-knacky kind of gadgets he can find.  These little feet-killers usually find their way from the floor to the skin of my bare feet on any given day.  My floors have toys splattered around like some sort of painting.  I choose to refer to it as “artistic expression”.

I have a daughter whose short attention span leans towards getting out stuffed animals, baby dolls, kitchen utensils, art supplies, blankets, and even more blankets.  If you ever come to my home, you will not need to worry about being cold!  There are plenty of blankets and baby dolls lying around the living room for you to snuggle.

The newest member of our home is a 7-month-old baby boy.  He really can’t be blamed for any mess necessarily, unless you consider that laundry just got increased, stinky diapers make their way to our trash can, and formula is sometimes dusted onto our counter-tops like some sort of cooking seasoning.  He even likes to “season” me with formula from time-to-time.  I may even use it as perfume soon!

I say all of this jokingly, but also as a reminder to myself, and maybe a few other moms, to stop fretting over the small stuff.  Yes, it can be distressing to have little dirt and clutter fairies sprinkling their magic around the house right after I get through cleaning it.  It may frustrate me that I can’t just wiggle my nose like “I Dream of Jeannie”, and make the house instantly clean up.  I may even find myself full of doubt about being able to manage three young children, a job, and a home at the same time, but, at the end of the day, I need to remember these are not the things I want to be remembered for anyway.

Years before any of this occurred, I never dreamed of having a home full of loving, laughing, playful, and messy children.  I never imagined that I would spend a great deal of time playing catch up on the housework, folding little girl’s dresses, getting stains out of blue jeans, or bending over to pick up toys at random spots throughout the house.  I certainly never thought I would care for a third baby (wow- what a blessing).

 I never really pictured children in my life at all.

I know the cleanliness (or lack there of on any given day) of my home will not be spoken about when reflecting on my life.  I won’t be known as an extremely organized parent who spent a great deal of time labeling drawers, or using a color-coded closet organization system.  I certainly won’t be known as carrying any hint of perfection in my personal, professional, or domestic life.

At the end of my life, I hope I’m known for what the Lord has done.  I hope people speak about my life that went from being barren to blessed.  I hope people can say that they saw me living a life yearning to do His will.  I pray my children will say this as well.

No, I may not have the cleanest home on the block.  I may not fold laundry in a timely manner, frantically sweep up all the little dust bunnies that hang out under the beds, or even stay up extra late to get that last bit of cleaning done.  At the end of my life, I pray I will be known for having a home that welcomed children, welcomed love, and welcomed Him.

Entertaining Angels

my angelic daughter
my angelic daughter

This week, my husband and I took a baby relative into our home following an emergent situation involving a family member.  We had been prayerfully considering our response to this situation, and had planned on moving him in, but were not exactly sure if or when we were going to do it.

This week has been quite exhausting, and a little overwhelming.  However, this week has also reminded me of the incredible difference we can all choose to make in the lives of little ones.  This week has also been a thought-provoking one about life and faith.  Mostly though, it has filled my mind and heart with wonder about children.

I wonder if children are mini-angels in disguise charged with watching the way we live and treat others. They cause us to think twice before telling off the person who cut in line, or ignoring the person in need of help.  Their little eyes and ears absorb our actions, or lack thereof, like a sponge.

We work a little harder each day because of the deep-seeded yearning to care for them and provide their needs.  We stay up all hours of the night to calm their fears and soothe their pains.  We quickly rush to their defense, and yet, disciple them to learn from their mistakes.  We clothe them, feed them, shelter them, and love on them.

In return, they speak simplicity into our lives.  They don’t care if the living room is messy, or the potatoes are cold.  They don’t worry about what the weather is going to be like, or what is on the schedule for the day.  They accept others without condition, express their emotions without hindrance, and choose each day to laugh, play, and love.

Most important, they watch and hear what goes on in the world around them.  They watch the way we respond to difficult situations.  They listen to the words we use when describing our concerns, and they yearn to understand the reasons why we (adults) make the decisions that we do.

I wonder, sometimes, if children send little messages to our Heavenly Father, who in turn, speaks His words of truth and love through them.  I wonder, sometimes, if their questions about life are ones that He uses to hear our responses.  I know children are put into our lives so that we can choose to step up and step out in faith each day.

I believe that angels watch over our lives and actions here on Earth.  I believe there are angelic guardians all around us, and especially around children.  I just wonder, though, if children are little angels in disguise.  If so, I am the guardian of three.

Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. -Hebrews 13:2

daughter of mine, Child of His (re-posted for a reason)

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I originally published this post back in July of 2012.  I’m sharing it again today in honor of the 3rd anniversary of our adoption of our little girl.  It’s been a rough weekend with family members undergoing serious illnesses and sudden changes in our routine, but nevertheless, the Lord is always faithful.  I’m so blessed to have a daughter!

daughter of mine, Child of His

Life as a girl can be difficult sometimes. The mirror reflects what you see but not what the world expects you to be. My hope for you is that you will only see how your Heavenly Father views you. Your blue eyes were made just for you. He designed you from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair. That ever-so-slight dimple in your chin was carefully placed exactly where He wanted it to be.

daughter of mine, Child of His. You are beautiful.

There may be times in your life when you may not recognize who He created you to be. You may not always hear Him calling for you, or answering your prayers. Sometimes, you may feel as though you are trying to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, but you are not. Your Heavenly Father will always be calling for His child. He will always listen intently and mercifully to your pleadings.  He is carrying both you and the world in His hands.

I want you to get dirty, jump in puddles, grow flowers, dance until your feet hurt, sing at the top of your lungs, have childhood crushes, laugh yourself silly, and dress in a way that shows your creativity and personality. I want you to say no and mean it. I hope you never believe that you are not good enough for anything less than happy, loving relationships.

daughter of mine, Child of His.  You are good.

I hope your friendships have depth, your love has width, and your aspirations have height. I pray your faith will be a well of peace and solitude. Be who you are, not who others wish you would be. Find what makes you happy and run with it. Let your passions become your joy. May you wander the world, but never forget where home is.

The Lord gifted me with you and all the things that make up who you are. You are delightfully stubborn, sensitively sweet, and tomboyish tough all at the same time. I want you to never be afraid of showing your colors to the world.

daughter of mine, Child of His. You are colorful.

In My Daughter’s Eyes

Sometime before I knew what my plan to become a parent would look like, I heard a song that I just fell in love with.  I’m not a country music fan really, but the song “In My Daughter’s Eyes” by Martina McBride stuck on my heart.  I heard it on a television show and truly thought that one day, if I ever got to adopt a daughter, this song would mean so much to me.

Here I am now, the mother of a son and a daughter.  Our adoption anniversary for our daughter is this coming Monday, February 11th.  She has been “legally” our daughter for three years now; although, she felt likes “ours” the moment we met her.  For our son’s adoption celebration, we made a movie of images of him set to a song about adoption.  For our daughter’s celebration, we chose the song “In My Daughter’s Eyes” for the background music for the video we made of her.

In honor of our third adoption anniversary, I thought I would share the words to this song with pictures of her.

photo (48)In my daughter’s eyes, I am a hero I am strong and wise, and I know no fear. But the truth is plain to see. She was sent to rescue me.

I see who I want to be, 
In my daughter’s eyes. 

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In my daughter’s eyes, everyone is equal.

Darkness turns to light, and the world is at peace.

This miracle God gave to me, gives me strength when I am weak.  

I find reason to believe in my daughter’s eyes.

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And when she wraps her hand around my finger.  

Oh, it puts a smile in my heart.  Everything becomes a little clearer, I realize what life is all about.

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It’s hanging on when your heart has had enough.  

It’s giving more when you feel like giving up.  I’ve seen the light, it’s in my daughter’s eyes.

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In my daughter’s eyes, I can see the future.  

A reflection of who I am and what will be.  

And though she’ll grow and someday leave, maybe raise a family.  

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When I’m gone I hope you see, how happy she made me.  

For I’ll be there, in my daughter’s eyes.

The part of the song that talks about hanging on when your heart has had enough always gets to me.  There were times growing up in the shadow of infertility that I thought my heart could not stand anymore.  I never considered throwing in the towel as an option for me, but, there were moments throughout my adolescents and adulthood where I thought I could not take anymore heartache.

Now, I know that hanging on is worth it.  It is worth it to have hope for the future.  It is worth it to strive to achieve what your heart’s desires are.

It was so worth taking the leap of faith that led to foster care and adoption.

 It is in my children’s eyes that I see why this journey we call life is so worth it.

 

Eyes of a Child – Quote

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“There are no seven wonders of the world in the eyes of a child. There are seven million.”  -Walt Streightiff

My daughter’s eyes just always seem to convey emotion in pictures.  Even as an infant, her eyes would pop out in a picture.  She has always been able to use her eyes to express herself in images.  The one above was taken by my husband on his iPhone when she was waiting in the doctor’s office to be seen.

Sometimes her eyes are happy, sometimes they are sad and serious; yet, they are always the focal point in the images we take of her, and one can’t help but be drawn to them.  The quote above is about children seeing wonders in life, but I happen to believe that we can see great wonders in our children’s eyes as well.

Full of wonder…just simply wonderful.

My children, I promise…

photo (37)My children, I am not a perfect mother.  Some days, I’m not even a good-enough mother.  I cannot promise you that I won’t lose my temper or get disappointed at times.  I cannot promise you that I will have all of the answers, save you from any pain, and agree with your choices.  I cannot promise you that I will be walking here on this Earth with you for all of your days.  I won’t promise you these things either.

The commitment made by my own mother to me while growing up, and even today, has spilled over into your lives as well.  Through her, I witnessed what it was like to put someone else before one’s own needs.  Through her, I learned that children should hear that their dreams can come true with hard work and heart.  Through her, I learned to not allow one’s circumstances dictate one’s future.  Through her, I learned that it is okay to not have all the answers, and that someday the answers might just be found.  Through her, I learned to not walk away from commitments and family.

My children, I promise you that my overwhelming love for you will stay with me until my last breath.  My protective instincts will linger throughout your growing-up years, and even while you too are feeling the instinct to protect your little ones.  I promise you that I will try my very best to take care of myself so that our days will be long together.  My desire to put your needs above mine, to sacrifice, to provide, to want more for you, to imagine better for you, to work harder for you, and to be your biggest cheerleader will not fade with time.  I will pray for the Lord’s protection over you.

Each day is a gift from the Lord that presents me with the opportunity to steadfastly work on this art that is called motherhood.  

My children, I may not be a perfect mother.  I may not even be a good-enough mother on some days…but….I’m your mother, and I will not walk away.  That is something I can promise.

The Blessing Jar

photo (48)I’m not real good at making or keeping New Year’s Resolutions.  I have a few “to-do” items that I need to accomplish this year, but to say they are resolutions is a stretch.  Regardless of the New Year, the items on my list will need to get done for the betterment of my home and health.

Before the New Year came upon us, my son approached me after school, pulled some change out of his pocket, and said, “Mommy, I want to give this to people without money.”  I was happily surprised by this statement.  We have talked from time to time about how blessed we are to have a home, family, food, and other things, and have done some random acts of kindness with the kids on weekends, but I have never tried to guilt-trip my children about the luxuries they have in life.  I strive to balance the desire to raise socially conscious children who are aware of the plights of others, while also keeping in perspective the fact that kids just need to be kids and do not need to worry about all of the hardship in life.

My son’s statement became a teachable moment for a discussion on how to help people who are impoverished.  Mutually, we decided that instead of giving the change right away, we would put it in a jar and start collecting money.  The next day, as promised, I went to a local store, bought a jar, and brought it home to show the kids.  We brainstormed on a few ideas to call the jar.  My son suggested “The People Who Don’t Have Any Money Jar.”  While I told him that was a fantastic suggestion, I felt that maybe the name was a little too long!

I told him that the purpose behind the jar was to save money for the year, and then be able to be a blessing to someone else.  He asked, “What’s a blessing?”  I did my best to explain the complex definition of a blessing.  I said, “A blessing is something that is good and kind that someone does for us, or that we can do for someone else.”  I also explained that God gives us many blessings, and that he and his sister are blessed gifts from the Lord for mommy and daddy.

We decided that the jar would be called the “Blessing Jar”.  From that moment, both of the kids have been scouring the floors of stores, parking lots, and just about anywhere else they can find coins, in hopes of being able to add to the jar.  Just last weekend, I gave my son a dollar.  He held it for a while, then turned around to me and said, “I think I’m going to put this in the Blessing Jar.”  This action made my heart leap just a bit!  This project has become something the kids think about often, and they are eager to add to the money placed in the jar.

There is a small amount in it, and honestly, I don’t know how much it will be holding next Winter when we decide to donate it.  The thought that my children are learning to not only save money, but to make small tokens of sacrifices for others with-whom they have yet to meet, or may never meet, is worth more to me personally than what the jar will ever hold.

I think this is one resolution of sorts that we will keep not only throughout this year, but hopefully throughout their growing years.  It certainly has been a blessing to me to watch my children grow through this.

Do you have any other ideas for teaching social awareness to children?  If so, do you mind sharing?  I would love to hear from you!

Confessions of a Working Mom

DREAM
DREAM

I am a mother with a full-time job outside of the home.  It is not that I’m necessarily at the office long hours of the day, but, I’m in a leadership position at my work, and often have to be available to emails and calls even if sitting on my couch.  There are expectations, decisions, and paperwork on my plate at all times.  There are new policies to be read, meetings to attend, and staff work to be approved.  I know that my work in child welfare is a ministry and I’m extremely blessed to work for a Christian agency, but I feel pulled in so many directions most of the time.  I often wonder if my work in helping other families distracts me from taking care of my own.

With this in mind, I have a confession to make:  I daydream about being a stay-at-home mother.  I imagine waking up after getting a restful long night of sleep, greeting my lovelies in the best “Snow White-Princessy” kind of voice while wearing fluffy house-shoes, and whipping up fresh made biscuits (not from a can).  I imagine sending my son off to school without the rush of madness in the morning.  I imagine my daughter attending preschool just one day per week instead of forty hours per week.

In my dreamland of non-salaried motherhood, my house is spotless (ALL of the time), the yard is sculpted to perfection, there are no laundry piles, toys are sorted by color, shape, or function, pets are always well-groomed, husband is also always well-groomed, meals are diverse and over-the-top healthy, and every sock is matched with the other.  My home looks like most of the fantastic homes on the ever-popular, yet, intimidating website Pinterest.  In my dreamland, there are lunch dates with friends, salon treatments, and a personal trainer.  There’s cycling during the day, hanging out in a coffee shop with my laptop, baking cookies with the kids, shopping trips with my daughter, play dates at the park, more church activities, and volunteering at the local hospital.

In this dream, I’m always in a good mood, never stressed, and feel constantly “in the moment” with my children and husband.  I don’t have to worry about budgets other than my own, and I don’t have to read new policies.  I don’t have to say yes or no to employees, and my focus is only on home life….

Okay, so I know that all mom’s work regardless of employment.  I know (or at least have learned vicariously) that it is difficult to stay home full-time with young children.  My friends who do not have employment outside of the home struggle with finding time for themselves, mounds of laundry, bored kids, fighting siblings, and feeling overwhelmed.

REALITY
REALITY

Motherhood is hard regardless of receiving a paycheck or not.  Motherhood is all-encompassing.  We are never really “off the clock”.  We don’t get to call in sick to our kids, or take vacation days.  We are love-givers, nutritionists, chefs, boo-boo healers, life coaches, fashion advisers, groomers, interior designers, friend creators, manicurists, pedicurists, personal bankers, and housekeepers.  We are dictionaries, spiritual advisers, encyclopedias, social skills teachers, and tutors.  We are warriors, protectors, and commanders.  We also know that we wouldn’t have it any other way.

I guess, then, that we are all the same.  Employed outside of the home or not, we all probably dream of waking up and greeting our little ones like a Disney Princess, making fresh made biscuits not from a can, and wearing matching socks.

New Year’s Road

Taken with my iphone as I rode my bike in a 150 mile ride.

This past year was one full of discovery for me.  Through blogging, I have been reminded that everyone truly has a story to tell.  We are all story-tellers in our own ways.  Art, in its purest form, also speaks volumes of insight and revelations about the world we are living in.  Some speak through poetic ramblings and short-stories.  For others, the lens of a camera captures images that their eyes first took notice of.  Each photograph tells a story.  Writing really has become my therapeutic release, my story-teller, my window to the world, my humbling remembrance of how blessed I am, and an extension of the yearning to live out my faith in Christ.

I continue to learn that  parenting is an art form.  Like most artists, parents don’t just figure it out with one stroke of a brush.  Mistakes are made, and often, we are our own worst critics,  Parenting is also something that love and passion is poured into.  I have yet to meet an artist who is not passionate about his or her masterpieces.  Children are the masterpiece that we are always working on, and for that, I am grateful for “do-overs”, grace, and the simplistic forgiveness of children.

Throughout this year,I have been made keenly aware of the tightrope we all walk when it comes to protecting children in our own backyards, and around the world.  Not to sound cliché, but they really are our greatest resource for the future.  Through this blog, I have been able to express my deepest desires for my children, and for others as well.  I have also been able to connect to the child I once was.

I began this road of writing because I felt I had a story to tell.  I felt I needed to speak of infertility.  I knew there were others out there suffering from the sadness that comes when the desire for children is not fulfilled.  I also felt that my story of barrenness includes the incredible journey that is adoptive parenting.  I may stray from time to time from the topic of infertility with the posts I write, but it is never too far from my thoughts and my heart.  I am deeply compassionate about others who continue to search for answers, and who live daily with the unfulfilled longing for children.  I hope my words will encourage each of them to believe in joyful beginnings and happy endings.

I am not sure what the Lord has in store for the road I will walk in 2013.  Will I be inspired to venture into other areas of writing?  Will there be heartbreak and heart-joy in this next year?  Will some doors open while others shut?  There is no way to tell what is destined to happen, but my faith in the Script-Writer of our lives is greater than the unknowns of the future.

May this New Year’s Road lead you all to delightful discoveries, faith-building experiences, and life-affirming moments that bless your sojourn in the world.

Favorite Fishing Buddy

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“The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.” —John Buchan

My dad fished professionally for many years, and earned sponsors and endorsements from boat and bait/tackle companies.  He was featured in magazine articles, and won many notable tournaments throughout his career.  As a matter of fact, when I tell people around here who my dad is, most (if into fishing) “ooh” and “ah” over my dad’s knowledge of the lakes and his seemingly instinctual ability to catch fish.

Before the adoption of our son, we took him to the lake often to visit his “Papa” and play around on the water.  Once our adoption was finalized, and my son had the ability to hold a fishing pole, my dad headed out on the water with him and started teaching him all that he knew.  He is now 6-years-old, and has been fishing pretty regularly since the age of 2 years.  He can name virtually every type of freshwater fish.  He can top-water fish, use a variety of baits and tackle, and even use a bait-caster.  I think he would fish just about every day if we let him.

During visits with my son’s biological mother while we were fostering him, she often asked me if someone would take him fishing.  She wanted her son to have the opportunity to learn how to fish.  I’m not sure if this is something she enjoyed as a child, but it seemed pretty important to her for him to be a boy who fished.

She was quite excited to hear that my dad past-time is fishing, and that her son would learn to fish from one of the best around this area.  When I get images like the one above from my dad while on the lake with my son, I can’t help but think of his birth mother, and how often she talked about taking him fishing.

My dad may have won tournaments, earned money, and made a name for himself through fishing, but the joy on my son’s face and the time spent with his favorite fishing buddy is by far the greatest award he has ever received.