Category: Foster Care

Sweet Princess Peach

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To my dearest princess peach, in honor of the day you turn four.

Four! Four years ago your daddy and I had our world turned upside down in the most wonderful way with the news of your birth. For some reason four seems so small, so young, almost insignificant. But to know you, to REALLY know you, is to know that none of those words are accurate descriptions of your personality.

The story of your birth is yours to tell, someday. In the meantime, I wish to share the following. I expected that I would love you. I was ready for it. I had prepared myself for it. Even when I emotionally prepared that I might someday lose you, I loved you still. The truth is, I could have never imagined how much love I would give and receive. I now consider that my first lesson in being a mama. The first of so many lessons.

You are your own person. You have paved your own path since the very moment you were mine, four short years ago. Short years, but long months and some even longer days. You have filled our days with learning, laughter, and unending love.

You have pushed every limit and have taught me to be more flexible. You have challenged every boundary and taught me to choose my battles and communicate differently. You have taught me to truly stop and see you, to look and to listen to what you’re unable to say.

You have broken apart every idea I had about what a mom should be. You taught me to just be me; to parent and to love and to guide with my truest self instead of with all these ideas of what others might expect.

The deep and strong current of stubbornness running through your very core has taught me to use new eyes, to think differently, and to lead with love and patience instead of anger. It has forced me to slow down and to stop and take a deep breath, and then another.

Your obvious unwillingness to bend and fold and fit yourself into my expectations of what I think you should be is incredibly refreshing, albeit frustrating at times. You remind me to be present, to be kind, to be stubborn in what I think is right, and most of all, to speak up for what I want and not back down just because someone told me I should. You remind me to expect more out of the people around me. To love hard and often and without abandon, but also to hold a strong line when it comes to my boundaries and what I need in the moment.

You are my wild child. My child who fears nothing. Who jumps from the top of playground equipment without a care in the world. My child who does and then thinks. My child who just needs to move and explore and be given the space to play in her own way, all day long.

My beautifully wild rose; my wish for your fourth year is for you continue to be your reckless, deeply loving, strong and stubborn, curious self. I hope that those things which make up the core of your sweet soul continue to be celebrated and appreciated and noticed. I hope you continue to demand from the world the same that you contribute. Most of all, I hope you know, without question, you are always and forever so very loved.

Love,

Mommy

Courage

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“Courage is not the towering oak that sees storms come and go; it is the fragile blossom that opens in the snow.” Alice Mackenzie Swaim

I have loved the above quote for as long as I can remember. In fact, if I recall correctly, I used this quote for my senior yearbook. I cannot find the yearbook to confirm. Therefore, you, reader, will need to take my word for it.

Despite the fact that this quote has always resonated with me, I once viewed courage differently. As a child, when I thought about courage, I would think of the typical “hero.” I am sure you know the one. The one up against impossible odds, who leans into whatever challenge they are faced with and comes out on top. The strong, brave ones and not the fragile underdog. Specifically, what I definitely did not think of in my younger years was foster care.

I previously mentioned I have been absent recently due to a multitude of life changes. Some of these changes have challenged me on the deepest level. Among the changes, was becoming a licensed foster care provider. The same day the license was official; our first foster placement was born and we got our first call. To say it took some courage to say “yes,” to that call is an understatement. After a frantic two days of nursery set up, I learned my first lesson as a parent in courage. This now permanent yes, is one of the best yes’ I have ever said.

There are a number of things I thought I might learn from being a parent. Courage was not one of them. However, there it was…a deeply buried, beautiful, flowering courage not previously identified, but nonetheless shining bright within my heart. Simultaneously, there was that same flowering courage existing so vibrantly in the children I love. My kids are the most courageous people I have ever met. That they can still experience joy after all the various traumas they have endured, is unbelievable. When you meet them, you might never know the abuse or neglect they have experienced….but we do. We know their joy is fragile; it does not take much to remind them. We are with them through the sleepless nights, the tears, the tantrums, the fears, and the anxiety. It is nauseating to listen to the the older children we have parented tell stories no elementary student should even know. Courage sometimes makes me want to throw up. Most often, it makes me want to cry. It regularly causes loss of sleep. Courage is ugly, messy and not at all heroic looking when it is actually happening. It is hard…so terribly hard.

My little superheroes are worth it. Their courage is a choice. So, too, is my choice to love them. Foster care teaches you very quickly that love is NOT just a feeling. Nobody lacking courage would choose to feel this way. Many people have told me they could never do what we do, and honestly, we cannot either by ourselves, but God is present. Therefore, we get on our knees and send a plea to the one who can do anything. Courage looks a lot different to me, now. Watching my little blossoms flourish is the honor of my lifetime.