How Embarrassing

I usually do my grocery shopping in the evenings after my husband is home.  Each of the children take turns going along with me, and it's always a fun time of connecting with whoever goes along.

Last night after we finished an early supper I headed out into the rainy night with my second child in tow.  I hurried out the door making sure I had my list, my wallet, and the van keys.  I was feeling extra organized, and happy over all the things I had accomplished that day.

Once we arrived at the grocery store I breezed through my shopping while chatting with my son.  There were some good sales on items I needed and I quickly filled my cart. 

As I was hurrying up to the checkout counter I reached for my purse to ready my debit card for a quick swipe.  I scrabbled through my purse in dismay as I realized that I had left the debit card AT HOME. 

Thoroughly humiliated I explained my plight to the checkout clerk, and asked if I could set my cart aside and run home to retrieve the card.  I mumbled something about my foggy brain, and my son loudly agreed.  "She forgets everything!"  he announced grinning widely.

How embarrassing!!

I totally deserve this outspoken son of mine.  I was the child in my family who blabbed secrets to everyone, and talked when I should have remained silent. 

Being on the receiving end of a child's painful honesty stings a little though.

Quiet Time

One of the things that I long for as a mom--is quiet.

I mean silence.

Where there is no noise except the faucet dripping.

With six people living in our home it is very rarely quiet.

Sometimes I get so focused on moving from one activity to the next.

That I forget that we ALL need "down time."

We like each other better after we have all been still for a while each day.

My younger foster babies take naps.

My older boys look at books, or rest quietly.

I sometimes just sit and do nothing.

Or read blogs. :)

But we all function better with a little quiet each day.

How about your family? 

Do you need quiet time every day?

When In Doubt Shut Your Mouth

I love to talk.

Maybe I've mentioned that before.

However, there are times when it's better to be quiet.

Yes, this post actually has a connection to Friday's post.

The hearing went pretty much exactly as we expected.

Essentially nothing has changed for now.

There are a few little monkey wrenches that have been thrown into the case.

I could worry.........

But I've decided not to.

Back to the subject at hand........or mouth.

Right before the hearing--a member of my foster children's birth family talked to me.

Actually she asked me one question.

I could have blabbed all sorts of information at her.

Some of it useful--most of it not.

I chose instead to simply answer her question.

I have thought of a hundred different things I could have said, but I doubt they would have improved the situation.

The relationship between foster parents, and birth parents is strained at best.

I think keeping my mouth shut was the right thing to do.

Thank you so much for all your prayers!!

The Curve In The Pathway

Sometimes, as a foster parent, it can feel like you live from one court date to the next.

Let me explain.

Typically there is a hearing every three months.

Life can move on in between these hearings.

Babies learn to walk.

Toddlers cut new molars.

Just normal family stuff.

You can forget that everything could change in a moment.

But, in the back of your mind.

It's always there.

The curve in the pathway.

That next court date.

You live with the reality that things could get better for the children in your care.

Or much worse.

Tomorrow is our next court date.

Please pray!

A Deer Hunter's Wife

Around this time of year my husband starts exhibiting some bizarre behavior. 


He peers out our back windows anxiously--scanning the woods in a paranoid sort of way.


He disappears for hours at a time to the sporting goods department of Wally World.


He spends a lot of time polishing his guns with horrid smelling chemicals.


He mutters about how many fat does he saw in the neighbors corn field on his way home from church.


He checks and double checks his ammunition like he is expecting a herd of deer to randomly bound through our yard.


He inquires repeatedly how much extra space is in our deep freeze.


I don't worry too much about it.  After all he has been doing this kind of thing for every year since I've known him.  It's all part of being married to a deer hunter. 

November

N ot many leaves left on the trees.

O ctober and warm days are a distant memory.

V ery brisk wind.

E mpty branches waving their arms.

M any geese flying south.

B ringing thoughts of coming winter.

E ager deer hunters prowling the woods.

R ustling leaves scudding across lawns.

This is what November means to me.  What does November mean to you?

Motherhood

I Corinthians 13 for Mothers (by Jim Fowler)

If I live in a house of spotless beauty with everything in its place,
but have not love,
I am a housekeeper, not a homemaker.

If I have time for waxing, polishing, and decorative achievements,
but have not love,
my children learn cleanliness, not godliness.

If I scream at my children for every infraction,
and fault them for every mess they make,
but have not love,
my children become people-pleasers, not obedient children.

Love leaves the dust in search of a child’s laugh.

Love smiles at the tiny fingerprints on a newly cleaned window.

Love wipes away the tears before it wipes up the spilled milk.

Love picks up the child before it picks up the toys.

Love accepts the fact that I am the ever-present “mommy,”
the taxi-driver to every childhood event,
the counsellor when my children fail or are hurt.

Love crawls with the baby, walks with the toddler, and runs with the child,
then stands aside to let the youth walk into adulthood.

Before I became a mother I took glory in my house of perfection.
Now I glory in God’s perfection of my child.

All the projections I had for my house and my children
have faded away into insignificance,
And what remain are the memories of my kids.

Now there abides in my home scratches on most of the furniture,
dishes with missing place settings,
and bedroom walls full of stickers, posters and markings,
But the greatest of all is the Love
that permeates my relationships with my children.