An Open Letter to Those Who Write "Open Letters to the Mom Who...."

Lately I have these moments where the words "open letter to the mom who..." runs through my mind  on this strange kind of monologue loop, as I'm sure something I've done, or not done, would be perfect fodder for one of these letters.

For instance, when I take all four kids to TJ Maxx, I hear in my mind, 'To the mom who takes four small children to such a store... I see you trying to keep all eight hands occupied while you browse the coffee mugs...'  *teeth gritted*

Or when I buy a coffee at Starbucks and one of my boys puts his face on the pastry window, I hear, "Dear mom, telling her son to remove his face from the pastry glass, I feel your pain. How could we have known how often we'd tell our kids to take their face off something it shouldn't be touching, or remove from their face the vial things they've pressed to their sweet cheeks....'  *Sigh*

There's the trips to the grocery with three or four of the kids where I hear, 'Dear mom, please keep your kids grubby fingers off the beautifully stocked shelves. I know you need to be here to buy food in order to feed your little ones, and I know you want to get it done while your husband works so you can preserve your evenings, and I know you're doing the best you can, but please, could you get a grip on your children?!'  *I can't even on this one*

The dreaded, 'Dear mom whose pre-schooler hit my pre-schooler, we don't allow such behavior in our home so I'd really appreciate it if you'd talk with your son about keeping his hands to himself...'  *Of course, because in our home, we love and reward hitting hands. (read insanely snarky)*

So, the most recent in this (I know its a little crazy) inner dialogue world I live in, happened at the ball park where our 4 and 6 year olds play on a peanut league team. We pulled Eli up a year early so we weren't navigating three different fields to watch the boys play. He's not quite ready for it but learning and having fun, nonetheless. So, when those sweet little hands got him sent out of the dugout last night (and rightfully so) because 'he won't keep them to himself', my first response was to sit him down in a gruff, timeout, kind of way. But as my hands reached his shoulder to set him down, his body curled and collapsed into mine and he fell into a heep of broken tears. Compassion over took embarrassment and I held him, curled in my lap, sobbing snotty tears all over me. And then the loop began, 'Dear mom who coddled her crying son instead of disciplining him for not keeping his hands to himself, shame on you. You missed an opportunity for a valuable lesson. If he were my son I would have...', or, 'Maybe if you didn't spoil him, he'd stop hitting.' or, possibly there would have been the, 'Thank you for showing him love instead of anger, after all, he is just four.' And I realize there's also those who didn't even notice. Bless you people, I love your non-judgy ways, your lack of opinions, and your own issues that keep you from concerning yourself with others'. There are probably more of you than there are 'open letter to mom' types. I fancy myself as one of you, only pausing to notice the "I feel you, sister" kind of moments, but who knows.

We're probably all a little more opinionated than we should be when it comes to someone else's kid, or parenting ways. Because, the reality is, I could have whooped his disobedient little behind for so many reasons, including, but not limited to, we've doled out consequence after consequence on this, we've talked, we've read books, we've spanked and you know what? Someone would have been unimpressed and he would still struggle to keep his hands to himself. (I'll take this moment to apologize to my parents and my sisters. He is me, made over. I hit, popped, smacked, pushed...all. the. time. as a kid. It wasn't because I was mean or wanting to be hurtful, I just had busy hands that reached and grabbed and played and hit non-stop. I can see now, the pleading in my parents eyes, as they fussed at me again to stop.) As I did, I know he'll outgrow this phase. I know we will fuss and fuss at him, that I will be embarrassed by this again before it's all said and done, and that we will continue to make the best choices for him that we can in each moment. Which last night, included holding him as he cried while I whispered reminders to him that we can't hit, not with hats, gloves or hands.

In conclusion, I am going to write my own open letter to myself.

Open Letter to the Mom at the Ball Park,
   
     Dear mom, I see you with your four little ones. I see how busy your boys are, but also how happy, encouraging and loving they are. I see your daughter running around you, asking for snacks and needing to go pee. I imagine your days, that it never ends. That those three boys chase, wrestle, fuss, laugh, play superheroes and bad guys, that they are both your greatest joy and your toughest trial.

I think you need to hear that you're doing ok mom. Your kids love each other and they love you, even if they do talk back and behave disrespectfully in public sometimes. I have boys too. Mine are grown now, but I remember those days. I remember dreading ER trips almost daily, recalling the conflict of either making them stop, or allowing them to continue knowing skills and muscles and knowledge are growing in their little bodies with every jump, climb, crash or hit. Those days will pass, mom, and will make way for little men that develop their first crush and their first pimple within weeks of each other.

They will learn to keep their hands to themselves...keep working with them. Don't give up on them. Love them through the tough moments. Praise them when they do well, encourage them when they don't. Teach them to apologize, and to forgive, because they will be hit too.

Your little guy, he needed you. I'm glad you held him. I'm glad you scolded him. I will pray for you, and for your family, that you won't get discouraged, that you will find joy, that you won't parent based on what you perceive others expect, but on what you know your child needs. It's tough, it really is. But hang in there...it's all worth it.

Sincerely,
A mom who saw you

Ending a Chapter- Decision to Close

I've written many times about the need for open foster homes and how I hoped our story would inspire even one family to open their home to the possibility. It has been something we have been involved in now for seven years, opening our home to ten children and adopting three. Our years as foster parents has been tough at times, but always a blessing. We've rearranged beds and car seats to accommodate different configurations, we've held on to clothes and toys 'just in case'. But, after much prayer and deliberation, and with a somewhat heavy heart, we have decided it's time to close our home, and move forward with our four little miracles.

We are amazed daily by the family God bound together here, and will always be grateful we chose this path. Adoption is a huge part of our story, and although it's not the focus, we will always share the gift it has been with our children, and anyone who asks, understanding how beautiful it is, and knowing it is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about.

The big boys are just beginning to gain an understanding of what it means that they were adopted. I know it will be a journey for them as they mature, and their understanding deepens and changes, but knowing it is a gift ,and not a mistake, is something I hope we can always help them see.

While we will talk with them anytime they bring it up, or ask questions (which is so rare at this point), it is overall a fact that goes forgotten within our four walls. Especially when we see how similar they all are, to each other and to Scott and I!

Elijah is a perfect blend of our older two, adopted sons.... He can be as completely wild and on the go as Timothy and as mild mannered and cuddly as Mason. Sophia and Mason look so much alike with their adorable button noses, and all four are fair skinned, redheaded beauties, just like their daddy!

When people first learn that three of them are adopted it's so funny to see them try to mentally figure out which three!! Usually they are wrong, which is fine with me. There need be no distinction anyways. They are brothers and sister and they are ours. Firmly, completely and finally. Nothing else matters.

Their bond is more and more beautiful all the time, even when many days are spent breaking up silly arguments and officiating scuffs. I see them in between those moments helping each other, encouraging each other, cuddling, playing, imagining, talking.... it's hopeful for us to see as they grow in love for each other.

So, I guess my point is, while this blog started as a way to share our foster/adoption journey and how God brought and knit our family together, the story is in no way over. Every day is a new challenge, a new love, a new gift. I will continue writing about what God has done, and is doing, en la Casa Akin, so long as He gives me stories to share.

As always, if opening your home to foster or adopt is something on your mind or heart, don't wait. Call your local DCBS today and get started. You won't regret it. And if you haven't read our story, I hope you will.      http://makingmemommy.blogspot.com/2014/10/getting-started.html

To my Mother-in-Law

Dearest Norma,

   You and me, we love the same people with an unmatched ferocity. Differing perspectives, but love unmatched, nonetheless. Often we are perfectly agreeable in our opinions and views of the world, but often times we are not. You have that grandmother view, while I'm still full on mommy vision. You are one of the first people I call when I'm in need, angry, sick, or any combination of the aforementioned, and you are one of the first to irritate me when we disagree.

If I never saw another peppermint, I'd be fine with that. McDonald's every time you watch the kids...grrr. Dipping a serving of dessert big enough for a rhino for a child whose tummy is the size of an orange, please!! Shows we don't allow and bedtimes later than we prefer...

But you know what, none of that really matters. Not really.

Today you went to the ER with chest pain. Tonight, you are 'sleeping the night' with an IV hooked up, monitors beeping and nurses running labs every few hours. Oh, what I would give to have you pop up the drive to give these kids a peppermint!

I'm quite certain you will be fine. They haven't figured out what's causing your pain yet, but you are a tough cookie. You are the one we all call...for everything. You're Mimi, for heavens sake. You've got to dust your boots off and get ready for the next big get together. Fried chicken, right?

You didn't call anyone when you were in pain this morning. I happened upon that, actually because I called for something I needed. But I could hear it in your voice. Turns out, you need us as much as we need you. And I'm glad for that.

It's funny, tonight, as I think of the things that frustrate me, they are the exact things our kids will remember with such fondness someday when they are grown. Oh, I'm sure they will still frustrate me, but understand, beneath it all, you are Mimi to them, and Mother (in-law) to me. You are irreplaceable. So, take a rest. Know that we love you. And bring these kids a peppermint tomorrow!!

With love,
Julia

Our State of Confusion

Ok Target. You have made your stand. I'm not exactly sure why you've made this decision, but you have. Maybe I'm wrong, but if I were to guess, I'd think the majority of your store traffic is moms, many with young kids in tow, as I am, nearly every time I enter your doors. Who knows what, if any, backlash you will face, but I have this idea, I'm not the only mom/woman (by birth) who is questioning whether or not I'll come back. Is that worth it to you? To lose the business of your biggest fans? I guess it is, because here we are.

At first, my only concern was for my kids. They don't need to be exposed to gender confusion at their age. And before you bash me for 'hating on transgender people', or 'being a bigot', understand I'm neither. I have no reason to hate others for their choices, but I have have a greater responsibility to my kids, whom I love dearly, to protect them from things I find inappropriate, or harmful.  It seems this should be a societal norm, but for some reason it's not, because you have failed to consider them in this decision. There is no good explanation as a parent that I can give them for why a man is in the women's restroom, or a woman in the man's. And, the more I consider it, and my husband weighs in on my thoughts, the more I see I'm also concerned for myself, and the other women wishing to relieve themselves in private.

Before I make anyone too mad, I realize that most of the transgender individuals who utilize the bathroom of their choosing, instead of the bathroom of their birth gender, are harmless. They have no desire to do anything more than the in and out necessity of the job. But people, for the love of obviousness, you have to see how you've opened the door for ANY man to use the woman's restroom, since you sure can't deny the right to anyone. And lets not forget the men! What will we do when teenage girls use the men's room. Now our husbands, fathers, and sons will be exposed to girls, completely against thier will, and we call that ok? And what about when one of those girls accuses a man of exposing himself to her? Or 'checking her out'? Or worse? What if that man did nothing more than pee? What if he did assault her? Who will you believe?  You've made it ok for the situation to even be a possibility! And I can't even imagine what my 90 year old Grandmother will think, or say for that matter, the first time she walks in to your bathroom and sees a man standing there. For heavens sake.

So, now the questions stands, who's next? I can steer clear of Target, and will as much as I hate to, but what happens when the next big chains follow suit? When the mall, or our local restaurants decide this is acceptable? Are we to avoid every place that supports this infringement on our rights? I don't see how. So what's the answer? And spare me your nonsense about how slight of a chance this may be, that someone with ill intentions would ever use a public restroom to carry out these acts. Check out the statistics on sex crimes against women and children, and now you've given them a private place where dropping our britches is why we are in there in the first place! Where is my protection? Will you post guards, or camera's, in your  bathrooms to ensure nothing like this goes on?  Am I just to hope, each time I use the bathroom, that this is not the time someone in my family becomes a statistic? Come on people. Where's the common sense?

I'm so discouraged by the direction this whole movement is taking, and not because I hate anyone, but because I wonder where, or if, we will draw the line?

Big Little Changes

Something is happening around here. Something beautiful, subtly amazing, natural and so, so sad. It happens to the best of us parents. It's completely the order of things and we would be dreadfully worried and disappointed if it didn't happen. But even still, the realization of it grips at my heart, brings a tear to my eyes, and makes me so, so sad.

My babies aren't babies anymore. The hashtags accompany the posts of most of my mommy friends almost daily, #wherehasthetimegone, #timestandstill, and one of my favorites, #babiesdontkeep. FB memories put it in our face daily, and this truth is a reality for us all. They are growing at an alarming rate and won't stop, no matter my pleads for them to hover at these amazing stages just a little longer.

There was a time I thought Elijah would never leave the arms of his milk producing momma. But he did, in fact, quit nursing after 15 months of near constant attachment (insert tear streaked cheeks). I knew with grave certainty we would go broke having three, or more, kids in diapers or pull-ups for forever but now we are down to our final diaper clad kid, and can finally see, the day will come when we won't buy any more! I never thought I'd carry a purse again, I double dutied the diaper bag for so long, but I carry a purse about half the time now....it's been a slow, sometimes scary transition back to the world of 'I don't have rash cream, extra clothes, snacks, or any other diaper bag emergency contingency stashed here on my arm' kind of mom. Butt's wiped in this house by me, at one point in time were increased by four...I wondered what I would do with all the spare time I'd gain by only having one, once again. Now, butt's wiped by me are down by two....spare time is spent asking if they did a good job wiping, did they flush and did they wash their hands, so no real gain there, other than independence is a small step closer for them. Nap time, sacred nap time, I thought I'd have that two hours a day, every day. I still get some quiet during nap while the two littles rest, but the big boys now use the time to read, do homework, puzzles, occasionally nap, or head outside. It's not the total silence I had grown accustomed to, but we're working it out and they are learning the value of a little quiet and alone time. We have cut teeth in our house nonstop for the last seven years. Seven years without a break! Alas, we are still cutting 2 and 4 year old molars but are also now on the daily quest of searching for loose teeth.We should have bought stock in children's tylenol and orajel!

These are just a few of the basic, fairly surface bits of my day that are shifting.

This list is endless, as most of you well know, but these crazy things are afoot up in our hacienda, and they prepare the stage for my heart as, daily, I see how they are growing and changing and moving baby steps away from needing mommy around every turn and instead, are little boys and baby girls becoming young men and little ladies. With their growing confidence, and knowledge of the world around them, they are learning to move beyond what keeps them comfortable and reaching for that next step. It does my heart well when Elijah still calls for me to 'watch what he can do', or Timothy still needs a hug from his me when he gets hurt, or when a tired Mason still wants to sit and snuggle and a sad Sophia just needs her mommy.  They aren't grown yet, but I've seen this change in all of them over the last few months, and it has me reminiscing about the days I chased three boys in diapers up the stairs for nap, nursed one, rocked all three and shushed them to sleep so as to not wake their baby sister.

You know, I don't rock anyone to sleep any more? I might have internally scoffed just a little when a teacher I worked with when Timothy first came to us said, "Rock him every chance you get, for as long as you can." She said the day will come when you will want to and he will be too big. I've rocked for nearly seven years and now that it has all but stopped in the last few months, I see she was right. My, what I wouldn't give to hear their heavy breath by my ear as they fall asleep on my shoulder, but their long gangly bodies no longer allow it, even if they did. SoSo could but is on such a big girl kick right now, she just wants to get in bed like brothers do, get her snuggle time and go to sleep. It's the unfair nature of the beast, that in the midst, we often feel it will never end, until it does, then we wonder where the time went.

Make no mistake, I am enjoying these years home with my littles, tending their every need and witnessing every milestone, and I know the job is nowhere near done. They are still very much babies in so many ways. It's just a stop and smell the roses, kind of realization when you look around and reflect on the changes. They are little, but oh so big in their world, and in mine as I cheer them on, guide them, correct them, and still hold them tight as I can, when they let me.