Category Archives: Single parent

Find the Someone’s

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His hood was pulled tight around his ears, blocking the winter cold as he burst through the door. It was way past his bedtime, but his eyes danced and the biggest smile ever flashed across his face. He kicked off his shoes and bounced away into the living room. I turned to my friend, gave him a brief hug, and say “Thank you.” “It’s good to be a friend,” he said as he turned to leave.

After a rousing basketball game (I almost typed “unsuccessful” there – as in his team didn’t win – when I caught myself. The act of playing is “success.” The ability to catch, dribble and toss a ball is “success.” The joy of the swoosh and the cheer of the parents around the court is “success.” I shall remember.) Anyway, after the game, I dropped Super Tall Guy off at a friend’s house – a dear couple who used to go on training runs with me years ago when my three were a little easier for someone else to handle. A delightful set of friends whose kids have gone on to college and beyond and yet their house remains an open door of love and hospitality. Though we have only seen each

other a couple times in the past year, I jumped on Mr. G’s offer to show Super Tall Guy his canaries.

About 4 ½ hours later, Super Tall returned, beaming from ear to ear, bouncing around the house with stories about holding birds, cleaning cages, writing down the “secret” number of the birds, and naming them (Sunny 1, Sunny 2, The Dark). He showed me how you can hold them without squishing them. That if you blow on them to “see their bellies” you can tell if it’s a male or a female. He talked until sleep took over.

It’s going to take a village for me to raise these boys.

  • It takes the daily help of my mother who despite being in her 70s, carts around a 9-month-old foster baby wearing his “my-head-is-misshapened” helmet.
  • It takes a father to unclog the drains, put up plastic over drafty windows and change the chandelier light bulbs over and over as they are knocked out by arching footballs.
  • It takes a sister to help juggle the schedule and take the oldest one skiing while I stay within a warm house.
  • It takes a school to sit down and meet and develop a plan for the new kid in the class and commit to doing what needs to happen to help him succeed.
  • It takes a Big Brother, Big Sister program to bring alongside a mentor and a friend for a kid without a father.
  • And it takes a whole bunch of friends for me – texting friends, dining friends, babysitting friends, comforting friends – to be able to survive.

But what really warms my heart are friends from years past who step up and take a kid for a couple hours and when you thank them profusely over text as you tuck your bubbly boy in bed, they reply – “Really glad to love on the kid.”

You see, that’s what all kids need – someone to love on them. And it can’t be me because I’m too busy racking up awards of “Meanest Mom Ever.” It has to be someone outside the family. Someone who really shouldn’t care that I chose to adopt three beautiful challenging boys. Someone who doesn’t have to give up their Saturday night to show a 90-pound clumsy 8-year-old how you hold on to a delicate bird. Someone who will love on a kid because that’s what the kid needs and they are willing to give.

If you have kids – find those someone’s.

And if you can – be that someone to a kid. You have no idea how profound and powerful you can be when you love on a kid.

Even if just for a day.

Thank you, Mr. G.

The “smaller” family…

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“Jump in the car, we’re going on an adventure.” The boys were in their snow pants, jackets and gloves. For the past 10 minutes they had hopped on little sleds for a 2-second ride from the garage to the mesh fence 15 feet away. They weren’t complaining, but it seemed that we could probably find something more.

It was Sunday morning. We should have been heading into church. I had no energy for it. My body ached a bit from the tight “bear hugs” needed to get Super Tall Guy back into calmness during a sudden rage event the day before. I needed some peace for my soul. I needed some nature. I needed to find a few moments of joy with these boys because single-parenting was tuckering me out.

We pulled over along the windy road in the nearby park. Bumbling out with snowsleds in tow, the boys were soon whizzing down a hiking trail covered by a fine layer of ice and snow (and pebbles). The first couple times I held my breath and prayed they wouldn’t careen into a tree or fly over a rock. Their giggles and shrieks of exuberance soothed me.

We clambered through the leaves. Watched deer dart up the hillside. Stared at the ice wall that once was a low waterfall. Balanced on logs. Slid on the frozen stream. We just needed to be. To be outside. To be free. To be marveling at the winter landscape. To be enjoying time with each other and helping each other. To be a family.

We’re trying that out now and trying to figure out how to be a smaller family. It is quieter. It is less chaotic. But it’s also a bit more overwhelming to me. Sometimes I feel like I just went through a divorce – suddenly the “other” parent isn’t around anymore and here I am. Figure it out.

So, we have had Family Movie Night on the couch because we’re too tired to do anything else after an hour in the woods, two hours at the roller-skating rink and then basketball practice.

We have spent more time in Family Game-playing with cookie prizes to the winner (and the dog considers herself part of the winning team each time and deserving of a Nutter Butter Bites too!).

We have a few new rules that I occasionally record as they run around in my brain so much.

We have had Family Time at the Upward basketball games as well, taking turns being on the court versus being disruptive on the sidelines … or being on the look-out for where the Little Guy might have disappeared to….again (right, water fountain….).

And, we had a Family Meeting early last week to discuss the consequences of acting out so much before school that Grandma “quit” her morning role as school “dropper-off-er.” (And how the boys are going to cost so much more money to use a before school service, so what changes will we need? Hmmm?  Anyone? Anyone?)

nature

I’ve put a little more energy into focusing on the “family” this week and how we live together and get-along (or not) together. How we’ll need to make sacrifices for each other. How we’ll need to better respect each other. How Mommy will still need evenings with my “texting friends” to improve my coping skills so we’ll be looking for babysitters.

There have definitely been so many changes for this family lately and my sister’s family. Yet, there is also lots of love and commitment and mutual support. It’s a “season.” We will figure it out and be okay. I am grateful.

 

 

 

 

5 Minutes in a Pulpit

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Last Sunday I had an opportunity to share from the pulpit how I got to be “where I am today” — well, they asked me to speak about the non-profit I worked alongside others to open….and I took the opportunity to regal them with “my life’s journey.”  Here’s the 5 minutes in a just slightly edited version — names changed….and this one will flow more smoothly than my stressed-stuttering 🙂

Today I traded my mom three very wild and active boys….for one quiet man.  She has my kids at home….and my dad is here with me. It’s made a huge difference in my stress level!

Today, I am going to tell you a story of seeing God’s handiwork in one’s life…even if it takes 40 years!  Yes, forty years.

God put a million, million doors in the world
For His love to walk through
One of those doors is you
I said, God put a million, million doors in the world
For His love to walk through
One of those doors is you  (Jason Gray)

When I was four, my parents moved our family to Thailand. This was in the early 70s. It took weeks for a letter to get there, months for a package. There was no internet. There was only one TV channel which had a Buddhist monk speaking 24/7. There was where I grew up – attended Thai school and boarding school. Played with Thai and Hilltribe kids. Raised my pet pig (Wilbur, of course) and pet monkey (Agun). There I fell off a water buffalo. There I was baptized, there I was a kid….oblivious to the fact that my parents were sharing the love of Christ day in and day out.

We returned to the US and I entered high school….then college….graduate school….and mid-way through med school – my sister and I returned to visit northern Thailand. It had been twenty years and our former village was now a suburb of Chiang Rai. We walked up to the gate of our former house, knocked and said “Hi, our Dad built this.”

It didn’t take long for word to spread that the “Williams girls” were back. People came forth to share story after story of how our parents had touched their lives and made them whole. You see ….my parents were doors….of God’s love to walk through.

Naturally, I retained a bit of that missionary spirit and did short-term mission trips to Haiti and Guatemala. In medical school, I knew I wanted to be a pediatrician because I loved kids. I also knew I wanted to learn about adult medicine as well because I just “knew” I would be in a third-world country and would need it.  And yet….I never felt the “call” to be overseas.

I struggled to figure out what I was to do in life.  I got a degree in elementary education, and yet, I wasn’t called into teaching. I completed a PhD in developmental psychology, yet I wasn’t called to do research. I handled the mocking of “are you a forever student?” with grace.

After a particularly challenging month of residency at a missionary hospital in Kenya, I returned to Pittsburgh. My sister greeted me off the plane and said, “So….while you were away, I was contemplating the Biblical principle of caring for widows and young children and since we don’t care about old ladies….I signed up for foster parenting classes.”  Six months later, a little toddler came into our lives. He stayed with us off and on for three years at which point, Super Tall Guy had joined us as well as my sister’s son The Flipper.

Soon there was Mr. Ornery and then my sister accepted her son Trouble (Capital T). Ten months later another phone call asked if I “wanted to adopt a third?” I had 15 minutes…. The Little Guy arrived. Our house was full of boys. And my life was full from practicing medicine and working another part-time job.  And yet….I still was seeking.

Four years ago last month while attending a pediatric function, a colleague said to me – “Lynne, you should talk with this new resident who did a study on a crisis nursery.” A what?  “A 24/7 safe place for kids under the age of 6 when their families are in crisis.”

At that moment – I knew my “calling.” At that very moment, I knew that this, this was what God had prepared me to do. He had brought me to a place where I was equipped and connected enough to help a team create the first crisis nursery in Pittsburgh – Jeremiah’s Place.

A place for families to leave their children in a medical emergency, or if the parent needed to get to a job interview, or if the parent was just too stressed to parent well and had no other support. A place to keep kids safe in a moment of potential harm and a place to love on and help the families move forward.jere-bears2

Why was I a missionary kid? – to instill in me a heart for those in need

Why did I get an elementary education, early childhood education undergraduate degree all the while knowing I didn’t want to teach? – because I needed to know how to teach children and parents

Why did I spend 7 years in graduate school studying developmental psychology? – because I needed to understand the very young child and the forces that affect their lives

Why did I go to medical school and become a pediatrician? – because I needed to know about the health of children

Why do adult medicine? – because….oh – I’m still asking God that question.

Why adopt three boys from foster care?  — because I needed to understand the stress of parenting and because they needed me….and I needed them.

Four years….countless hours at the computer, hundreds of meetings, talking to people, reading, visiting crisis nurseries – sacrificing sleep, sacrificing time for work, sacrificing time with my own children….

Through it all, I realized that the Lord called me to bring Hope to the mission field here in Pittsburgh. I didn’t need to be in a third-world country. I needed to be here — right here in Pittsburgh.

Jeremiah 29:11

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

This is the mission of Jeremiah’s Place – to bring Hope and a Future to children and families.

This is my door —- What is yours?

When the pain cry doesn’t stop right away….Ahhhh!!

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You know the cry of pain. It’s different than the “I’m irritated,” “He just took my toy,” or “I need a nap” type of cry. It is unmistakable and it doesn’t happen all that often. When it does, though, I go running down the stairs, scoop up the two-year-old and give him a hug. It’s never fun, though, to look into the face and see his hand full of blood. So I rush him to the bathroom, wondering how much of it is on my shirt (yes, in the midst of blood I do wonder where it’s all going…), and put the first thing I can find on it – some tissues. When I pull them away, I quickly put them back in place and yell, “Kathy, come here.” “What?” she asks when she enters. “Hold pressure. I’ll get dressed and take him in.”

From that point on….it’s just completely automatic. I get dressed. The Little Guy needs a diaper change. I cut off his inner layer of pajamas and throw them away instead of having to pull the shirt over his head and re-open the split lip which has a fragile clot on it and is for the moment not bleeding. Smooth over the 7-year-old who is begging for attention because he has his first field-trip for school and first playdate at a friend’s and is getting a little off-center by the attention given to the annoying little brother…. Pat the 4-year-old on the head and give him a quick hug. Shove a diaper and some wipes into my purse and off we go.

It’s four hours and four stitches later through the emergency room and Sam at ERwe’re back to the car again. It’s about then that I process the morning and realize that (a) I really need to go to the bathroom (problem with being a single mom in the ER) and (b) I’m pretty tired from the nonstop morning.

The suddenness of a kid’s illness really throws off my day – anyone’s day. And it’s not just the schedule, but the whole emotional tone of it. I’ve thought this weekend what it would be like to have been alone with the boys Thursday morning. I would have had to find someone to quickly watch the older boys or take them along with me (and that would have been just a nightmare in the bustle of an emergency room and an exam room full of fun bits of medical equipment and devices…as well as the ubiquitous and life-threatening wheeled three-legged stool!).

Fortunately, I am an extremely well-supported single mom. My sister was there to hold pressure on The Little Guy’s face. My mother arrived a few minutes later and quickly took over my “morning duties” as I looked for a matching set of little shoes. There were no questions about what needed to be done. No grumpy sighs about how their morning was just altered by the need to run boys into day care or drop off at school. No guilt. Total and complete support as we worked together as a unit – a micro-family immediately morphing into a macro-family to meet the needs of the moment.

I know I don’t tell them often enough – but I am so grateful to these two other women who make it possible for me to parent three boys.

Thank you. And I love you.

Oh…and…um….about the fact that Mr. Ornery just spiked a fever before going to bed tonight….and likely won’t be going to daycare tomorrow….. Anyone? Anyone?

So….I caved….it happens!

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Okay, I confess….I caved….I gave in. I didn’t maintain “strong Mommy” status….I buckled….I weakened….all in the name of SLEEP! (It happens every once in a while….it just does….)

You see, somehow I had gotten the idea in my head that it was past time for the Little Guy to do away with his comfort item (binky) at night time (mean Mommy) and just rely on his blue stuffed “ABC doggie” to provide the tag for him to stroke soothingly betweenyellowduck1 his fingers. I’m not sure why this need hit me so suddenly (kind of like when I suddenly realize I need a haircut and then can think of little else but to get it scheduled!). So the poor Little Guy who was just recovering from an awful bout of croup last weekend (requiring a doctor visit for steroids on Saturday….then a doctor visit for antibiotics for the ear infection on Monday morning….and then tortured by a doctor visit for flu shot Monday evening….and now “no like doctor”…) is suddenly faced by a mother who thinks it’s time to prepare for college and wean off any childlike things (we’ll work on the diapers next).

Surprisingly, he seemed to cope just fine without the binky at night. He would lay beside me while I read to Super Tall Guy and then play happily on his bed until he fell asleep. It all seemed to be going well (at night) but I soon noted a terribly disagreeable pattern in the mornings. I’d hear Little Guy rustle around at 4:15….then call my name repetitively at 4:34….then come to my room at 4:49….then stand at the foot of my bed at 5:15….then climb into my bed at 5:22…. And any time I would snap “get back to bed” or guide him back to his room and bed, a torrential of tears would ensue surrounding the words “Mommy, mommy, mommy.”  While seemingly heartbreaking for him, it would also prove to be quite disruptive to the sleep habits of Super Tall Guy flipping around in my bed and Mr. Ornery sleeping on the floor of the “boys’ room.” I believe I’ve mentioned before that I become an irrational beast when awoken before 6 am.

And then, this morning at 5:08, it dawned on me! I took Little Guy back to his bed and said “wait here…and I’ll get your binky.”  Magic words. He waited. He stayed in his bed. He reached up eagerly for the monkey and ducky Wubbanub and fingered the tabs at the tail end and drifted back to sleep. I eagerly returned to some unanswered dreams until 6:30 when he rejoined me….and we lay in bed until 7. Wow.  That was worth caving in!

I think this caving falls into the parenting rubric of “pick your battles.” And this is not only trying to choose which battles are important to your kid….but which ones maintain any semblance of your own personal sanity.  For example, the boys do eat in my car (which is now growing the next generation of penicillin to help solve the problem of antibiotic resistance). In addition, I have given in to the fact that chicken nuggets can be a protein source, and that ketchup is a daily antioxidant and natural vegetable (though we all know tomatoes are fruits). And, I have given up the saying of “no jumping on the couch” – instead it has become “no jumping on other people’s couches!!”  And, I also cave a bit more than I’d like in using a very large flat screen as a “distractant” while accomplishing other miscellaneous tasks around the house. Yes…..my parenting has changed from what I might have imagined it would be. And yet, it is working (sometimes) for the needs of myself and my boys – and surviving the day (and finding glimpses of joy) is what counts!!

Guess what’s in the Little Guy’s mouth tonight?

Oh Drat – this is really all up to me?!?

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At a late dinner tonight, I turned to my sister and asked, “So, did you sign up for any school lunches yet?”  She said that’s one of her biggest disappointments so far in the new school the older boys will attend in two weeks – a lack of a real cafeteria to make hot lunches. I mentioned I really hated making school lunches as Micah has such a limited array in his diet (hmm, strawberry or grape in his jelly sandwich?). She agreed that it was good when the school provided lunches because it gave the boys exposure to foods they normally wouldn’t eat at all.

And then it hit me….

The absolutely incredible responsibility I have for how these boys turn out on so many different levels!  (Well, this isn’t the first time it did, but it’s another time it did.)  From the miniscule of what foods I offer to the boys….to the grandiose of what places we visit on vacation. From the school that they enter….to the music that they listen to. What I provide shapes so much of their life. Playing sports, appreciating art, learning an instrument.  I mean, why would they ever eat a mushroom?  I never serve any.

And part of what I do in shaping their scale of choices is such a function of my own experiences and likes. And I’m particularly conscious of the fact that although my boys are biracial (equally Caucasian and African American)….they are growing up “White” for that is what I know. So when a man passing us on the beach today remarks about Noah, “what a great tan he has,” I just smile and say “wouldn’t his skin be great?” …knowing that his beautiful coloring is more natural him than the sun’s effects.

I know that the boys have true rhythm within them, but I don’t dance. I know that I say Micah should play basketball rather than football when he grows up, and yet we all watch the Steelers together and rarely turn on a basketball game.  My boys wear the clothes they wear because my sense of style fills their drawers. They eat what I generally eat (sometimes) because I put it on the table.  They are learning my comfort level.

We are at the beach this week. It gives me a small bit of time to wane philosophic in the midst of stressing to make sure the head pops back up after the wave passes, balls remain an “outside toy” rather than fly through the “adult-focused” beach condo, and keeping a close eye out for any rocks or other hidden obstacles that might attempt to knock Seth’s other front tooth out!

My mothering bucket list:

  • Travel into and/or through as many states as possible
  • Visit the National Parksnational park
  • Make sure they learn piano no matter how much they hate it and how expensive the bribes become
  • Model more reading for pleasure
  • Camp in a tent for at least two nights in a row (sleeping in a friend’s backyard and sneaking into the house in the middle of the night doesn’t count, does it?!?)

Help me….what else needs to be on my bucket list?

Holiday exhaustion

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I’m not really sure what I’m doing awake right now (other than typing this) – because it’s a late, late 10:20pm and last night I was fast asleep by this time. I don’t really think I should be so tired – I mean, I’ve been getting a good 8 hours of sleep at night – oh no, wait, that is really a lie. How can it be good sleep when the 70-pound gorilla climbs in by midnight, blocking my ability to lie on my right side? (Well I could lie on my right but that risks getting my face hit once or twice throughout the night by a flailing arm.) And then, by 2 or 3 or even as late as 4:00 am, the curly-headed one patters up to the bed with his worn-out “blue blankie” and stands there breathing softly until I open an eye, squish the gorilla over as far as I possibly can to the right, and welcome “little man” on the left into the bed as well. Then for the next couple hours, I wake up intermittently wondering if I can still breathe….wondering if my arm is wet from sweat or if there was a pull-up malfunction on either side….wondering if it could please, please be time to get up because my back is killing me and I would like to just stretch a little bit. So…..even if it’s a good 8 hours in bed….it’s rarely a “good” 8 hours of sleep!

But most of my tiredness is the whole holiday weekend. There’s nothing like sugar and fun and anticipation and sugar and friends coming over and sugar and shorter naps and later nights and sugar to really throw everyone off.  I saw this photo on the “Proud Pretty much sums it up!Single Mother” Facebook page the other day and it made me smile. Sometimes I really feel this way – it’s been a long week at work, I can’t wait for Friday and a break….and then I remember….I’m a mom – the weekends are usually busier than the week – it’s 24/7 kids!

Weekends are also the time when it hits you that you’re “single” mom and that all the care of the kids falls on me. There’s no break from them from 6 am when the gorilla rolls over until 9 pm when the curly dude finally crashes. And when I spontaneously decide to do something – like take the boys down to an Easter Egg Hunt at my “home” church in Waynesburg – it’s all me (well, me and the very nice DVD player in the van!). And when the doors open and a hundred kids are all set free upon the lawn, it’s just my set of eyes on them. My thought? — “yep, there they go! I’m just going to trust the volunteers around the perimeter that they’ll block any attempts of my guys to escape onto the streets!” And we all did fine with only one panic moment when I couldn’t find Noah for all of about one (very long) minute! Fortunately, Seth’s runs were more like take 10 steps forward, trip on something and spill eggs out of basket, stand up and place eggs back in basket, start running forward ten steps…trip…..repeat.

I wasn’t the only one tired out. Micah had plenty of gross motor play – tackle football, wrestling, egg hunt after egg hunt. He does very well while engaged, but has had some nice meltdowns in the car as we transition from one excitement to the next. This morning’s fit of taking off his seatbelt and spraying apple juice around the back of the van resulted in 90 minutes of “quiet time upstairs” once we got home this afternoon. For the first time, there was not a complaint out of him – no “how much longer?”….no sneaking downstairs to devise something he just had to tell me….no begging for TV. Clearly he was ready for a break. And Noah was ready to play alone with his new toys and Seth was asleep within seconds of being put into his crib tonight.

Check. Holiday weekend done. Thank goodness it’s Monday tomorrow :).

Ten Bits of Wisdom for a New Adoptive Single Mother

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I talked to a colleague this week who just adopted a little boy five weeks ago. She’s single and in her forties and asked me what I thought about single parenting and adoption.  I said “mothering is full of ups and down….usually within the same second.” And though my kids are still pretty young, here’s what I’ve learned so far (a bit more than I shared over the phone with her):

Five “hard” things that will surprise you:

You are going to fail. It’s really hard when you’re used to being a successful, professional woman, but it’s true. There are moments in mothering that you are going to totally and completely bomb. And you’ll know it. You’ll know it the moment you are in it…and yet you won’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll be in the moment and you’ll be doing it all wrong. But…. that moment will end. You will forgive yourself. Your ego will be bruised for a while, but you’ll forgive yourself. And you’ll learn that all moms do that. All moms fail at some moment. What makes a mom great is realizing it, forgiving yourself, trying to learn from it (yeah…..), and moving on. Because you love your child and your child loves you.

That’s the hard one. But it’s true. Here’s another hard one. There will be times that you hear this little voice in your head that says “I wish I never made this decision.” It’s probably somewhere between wiping the poop off the crib railings and stepping on a lego in the middle of the night. It’s probably somewhere in between 39 months of no more than two nights of real sleep in a row and lugging a stroller, diaper bag, kid and two suitcases down the airport hall. It’s there… somewhere. It’s fleeting. It’s shocking. But it’s also real. Life just flipped upside down, you’re on a rollercoaster in the dark, and sometimes you’re not sure you can handle it. And you are scared. But you can handle it. You really can. And you know in your heart of hearts that this is exactly what you want to be doing.

Hmm, I’m on a roll with the hard stuff, because there also comes that time when you realize that parenting has brought out the worst of you. The really ugly side comes out….like anger, grumpiness, impatience. And previously, if you didn’t like a situation you were in or the way it made you feel, you could leave. But now, you can’t. Parenting is 24/7, it doesn’t end. You wake up – the kid is there. You go to sleep – the kid wakes you up. So you must find yourself some breaks and forgive yourself again.

You are going to miss your single life. You’re still “technically” single, but it is so very different now. It’s hard to come to grips with the new limits on your life. No longer can you just jump in the car and head out of town for the weekend (without some serious planning and a trunk full of crap). No longer do you meet up with friends for dinner (without first finding a sitter and contemplating the balance of how many evenings you are away from home). Spontaneity is a whole different version now – you can still have some….until the baby is old enough to need a schedule and then spontaneity becomes “which room do I clean first today?” Gone is the time when you wake up on a Saturday and say “hmmm, what am I going to do today?”

And, you might struggle with the concept of adoption. You might have some bumpiness in bonding with your new one. You might grieve that this child, as beautiful as he is, doesn’t look the least bit like you (or you might rejoice in this). You might be hurt by other people’s glances or words. You might even go so far that you doubt your parenting ability for the child and wonder if some other family should have adopted him. And for this reason, you must have someone in your life who tells you as often as needed, “you are the very woman who is supposed to be his mom.” Because this is true.

Believe me – you will not survive this alone. Don’t even try…for many of the reasons that I’ve just listed. You must have some allies in your camp – a cheering squad, a supporters group, a cadre of friends. (And it’s helpful if all your friends don’t know each other so you can whine to at least 5 or 6 of them about the same thing that the little kiddo just did.) If you have family, move as close to them as you possibly can. Build up a network of people who can take the baby for a couple hours, drop off a gallon of milk in a moment’s notice, sit by you in the ER when the little one is sick, or get out of work early to get the kiddo off the bus on the day you have a really important 3:30 meeting. Cherish these people. They will keep you going. And do not be afraid to ask for help.

Oh – I’m squeezing in a number 6 — Parenting is painful. That surprised me. I never really considered how many times my head was going to get knocked by a flying block. Or a door slammed on my big toe splitting the nail. Or being jumped on from behind when you’re squatting to put on a siblings shoes and falling onto the floor. But the one that always kills me is leaning over your kid to plant a tender kiss on their head, only to have them rear back to look at you and split your lip open or bloody your nose. Real nice. (Okay, back to my list….)

Five wonderful things that will surprise you:

You are going to be amazed at how much you love that child. It is such a powerful emotion, that makes you wipe snot off a nose for the thousandth time. That leads you to lie down beside them long after they’ve gone to sleep just to watch them breathe and their eyes twitch for a few minutes. That causes you to fiercely defend them even when they don’t need it. The love between you and your child is better than anything you could have dreamed of and you can’t even imagine life without him.

You have never known pride until you’ve been proud of your kid. Oh sure, you have felt good about an accomplishment of yours. You’ve been happy for your team or colleagues. But when you watch your son kick his first soccer goal or your daughter stand up and take her first steps – wham! That is powerful pride.

The first time you say it – and believe it! – that you are the baby’s “mother” is pretty fantastic. When you say to yourself, “wow, I’m a mommy. Wow!” It will finally settle in…and your new identity forms. But what’s even more delightful is when your child looks at you and for the first time says “mommy” – you won’t ever forget that moment.

You will spend an entire day getting absolutely nothing done and you’ll be okay with that. You’ll be amazed at how long you can just sit and stare at a baby. You’ll wonder why it took two days to do a load of laundry when you’ve had to sort and fold the clothes over and over again when the boys have “underwear war!” You won’t worry about the dishes in the sink anymore or the crumbs under (and in) the couch – your new “accomplishment” for the day is to have fun, tickle and kiss….and keep the kid alive.

You will understand that becoming a mother was truly, truly the best decision you ever made. Sure you might want a little less vomit to wipe up, but you will know that there’s no other description of yourself that’s more important than to say that you’re a mother. You will be worn out more than ever imagined. You will be frustrated and confused at times. You will do things you never expected to do. And you will be happier than you thought possible – and so grateful for your child and the chance to be a mom.

Call me or a friend to share any of these 10 things…and for anything else.

(Oh….and here’s a couple other simple words of wisdom
– subscribe to Adoptive Families if you want to do a bit more reading and get some suggestions
– definitely sign up for Amazon Mom for free two-day shipping ….including diapers!
– always have extra milk or formula in the house – running out at 9pm is a huge mental drain!
– keep babywipes (and tissues) within an arm’s length…ALWAYS)

Soft snow and single parenting

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We are looking at rental properties and Kathy mentioned the possibility of us splitting to find cheaper housing. After having spent the week alone with my three while she and our mom took her boys to Disney, I replied, “we’d have to be right beside each other then.”  Spending a week being a truly single mom – was truly stressful to me.

Single parenting….

It’s stressful when you have a kid in school and have to deal with sudden changes – oh, a 2-hour-delay for freezing rain; no after school programming for a couple days, anything else you want to throw at me?

It’s stressful when viruses are running amuck and you don’t know who and when is going to fall next. Micah had two evenings of low-grade fever, headaches and went to bed early, but I still wasn’t ready to call him sick since I was single parenting (so I just had to keep worrying that he was “getting sick”!).

It’s stressful when there are two grants due on the same day for my crisis nursery work (and I’ve never written grants before). I got 3 hours of sleep Tuesday night and 2 hours of sleep Wednesday night – and as you can imagine, this lack of sleep was not helping my parenting skills.

It’s stressful when you pick up the pen and sign your name that you are prepared to accept the responsibility of adopting another boy. You pick up the pen. You sign. A good stress….but a stress nonetheless.

And it’s stressful to worry about said boy who hasn’t gained weight in over 6 months so you’re just starting him on pediasure (to bulk him up) and spending the week wondering whether the phenomenal amount of blood letting they did last week will reveal any answers. (Update – All negative – he’s currently a perfectly healthy (runny-nosed) teeny, tiny little guy).

I spent the whole week with stress hanging over my shoulders about what I would do (and how life would have to be juggled) if just one piece fell out of my finely balanced tower. And if you’re living in stress and constantly under pressure and not sleeping for the week, the time moves by without much chance to catch up to it.

Soft snow

“Snow softly falling.” pinterest.com

Yet, as I drove to church this morning, I noticed my body soften looking at the beauty of the new snow on the world. I thought about the tranquility of watching snow fall through the yellow glare of a street light (I will often pause and stare for the longest time at this softness). I thought about how I love winter when it lets you slow down. You stay home because you don’t want to be out “in that.” You dream of a huge warm fireplace (next house?). It seems that the world should pause for a moment longer after the rush of the holidays. Yes, we tend to schedule fewer events and the weather tends to cancel schools and meetings and work. And maybe we should all follow nature’s rhythm of taking a break in the winter – resting, hibernating, rejuvenating, preparing….

Maybe I should become a tree.

Here’s to hoping for some earth-stopping blizzards in February!  (just kidding!)