maybe I'm the only one

Am I the only one that wants to look older? Seriously, I just want to appear my age. I have always looked younger than I am for some reason. I don't know if it's because I'm so short, or because I'm still holding onto [all of] my baby fat, or if I act young and immature, of if maybe I should just get a hair cut. Whatever the reason, I've always been so annoyed that people think I'm younger than I really am.

When I was college it was, "oh, so are you with a high school group visiting the campus?". Or "You're not honestly getting married, are you? Aren't you still in high school?" When I was teaching it was, "you're the teacher? I thought you were a student (in an elementary school)." Now it's, "so, how long you been married? A year or two?" (Try eight).

Everyone always told me, "you'll like to look younger... when you're older." Bah. Hum. Bug. I'm older now. (ok, maybe you still think I'm still a spring chicken, but I honestly am older than I was before). By the time you are 30 you should be happy when someone thinks you're 23, right? Not me.

Am I the only one?

I would be thrilled if someone guessed my age correctly. I've always wanted to stop at one of those "Guess Your Age" booths at the amusement park. I am sure I could win all the stuffed animals there. At least then maybe I'd feel like something good came out of my silly predicament.

When we got married, I thought, oh, we'll just have kids and then people will know we've been married at least that long plus a year or so; then they'll know how old I really am!...  ha ha! That plan failed dramatically.

Now I have a vibrant two-year old. So, what do people automatically assume? That I am 21 or 22. Because that's how old all Mormon girls are when their first child is two.

WRONG! Obviously. On so many levels. Really.

I'm not really sure what I was trying to accomplish by writing this post. Maybe the Great Age Wizard will come give me some wrinkles in my sleep. Or maybe tomorrow I will wake up 100 years old and wish I looked 30. But, then again, when I am 100 years old, I probably will look 30....

too much cool

My awesome husband got me a smartphone for Christmas. Now I'm cool. I know how to throw stuff at fake birds with my finger. I can cut a virtual rope to feed candy to a monster. I can play word games with my friends. I can check Facebook in about 2 seconds. I can text to my heart's content. So if I go MIA, it's because I'm now too cool for the blogosphere... at least until my phone is no longer a novelty. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I need to go find my phone.

to have loved and lost

I am not crying today, though I think I probably should be.

This morning I gathered all of T & B's things- their clothes, toys, blankies & barf rags- and dropped it all off at their parents' house. I went inside the house and gave baby B some long hugs & kisses (though she seemed much more interested in all of the toys I had just brought over) and I gave little T hugs & kisses, too. If you asked me 3 months ago if I loved these children I would have said, "I'm not really attached, so, no." But now? I do surely love them. And I miss them. Just a little.

Don't get me wrong; it is really nice to just be us again. Life will be less stressful now. But, at the same time, it is kind of strange that I won't be picking them up to have them at our house any more. It's okay, though. I know that they are where they need to be. I know that their parents have tried very hard and are doing their best, and as far as I can tell, the children will be well taken care of and they will be safe.

It's funny. We have loved lots of children, but have only ever gotten to keep Megan. I loved all of those babies we were supposed to adopt before Megan. I remember loving all 4 of them (even though we only ever met one). I remember that with each one, I felt intense pain as we lost them. Before adoption, when we were trying to have our own children, I felt love for the children I thought we would have. (I don't really know how that works since we obviously never had any to begin with... but I felt love still the same.) And now these children, T & B, that we so recently gave back, I loved them too. I really did. I do have to say, though, that none of that love is as great as what I feel for Megan. Hands down, the love I have for her trumps all other love I have ever felt for any other child. But still...

I've had all this love, for all these children, and I most likely don't get to see any of them again.  If I think about it too much it could sure take a toll on me. However, I have seen the strength and life lessons that have come to me from each kind of love, and from each experience.  

Our family life is certainly not what we envisioned, but we are so grateful for the way things have turned out thus far. I don't know the reasons for most of what goes on with my life; I just know to trust in my Heavenly Father and I know that He will lead us to children that are supposed to be with us. The thing I do know is that there is a plan for us. It is not all random. I know that our calling as parents is different, but it is still good. I am grateful for the knowlege I have that I can be with my family forever; that all of the struggles and heartache and pain we go through to find our family will be worth it, because we can be with them forever. I wish everyone else knew that, too.

Anyway... I guess that's it for now.

a fixer-upper

I have picked up what might seem like rather strange  hobby for a new 30-year-old. I tell myself it's not that weird because I know other people like to do the same thing. However, I may only be kidding myself, and maybe I am quite strange after all. Either way, I am totally excited and just need to share.

When I was around 10 years old, I asked for a dollhouse for Christmas. I'm not talking about a barbie dollhouse; I'm talking about the wooden kind that comes in a kit and you put it together, paint it, add carpet & wallpaper & little miniature furniture. My parents obliged that Christmas. They bought me a dollhouse kit that I would put together with my dad. They also bought me a few beautiful pieces of furniture. Well, my dad & I never put the kit together and then I left home, got married, and so on. I think the kit eventually was given away. I have always kept the mini furniture in hopes I would one day again be able to have a dollhouse.

As my 30th birthday approached, I thought I needed some kind of project to do... something for me... so I thought about it and decided I wanted a dollhouse. Undortunately, the price of dollhouse kits has skyrocketed in the past 20 years so I opted to buy a used one. I found one online for a great price, which also included oodles of furniture. This house is a fixer-upper. It needs to be repainted and needs some fixing up inside. Doors need hinges, floors need carpets, and walls need paint. So, this year I will start working on those basics, and worry about the rest of the furniture later.

I'm so excited about this that I seriously don't want to do anything else with my extra time. So, here is a picture of my gorgeous dollhouse. I don't know what color/s I will paint it, but it won't be the same by the time I finish.

And, here is the inside: 10 rooms and lots of furniture to boot.

Maybe I'll throw in a couple pictures along the way as I fix it up. I'm excited! Happy 30th birthday to me!

perspective

So, our foster kids will most likely be gone by the end of December. This is fine and we knew it was coming. In fact, they are now with their parents more than they are with us. So, this means my life is a bit easier now. I still have to drive them around all the time, but home life isn't as hectic. The other day I started thinking about them leaving for good. I have just gotten so used to seeing their little faces around my house. I've gotten used to their smiles, their laughs, their preferences, their messes.

Most assuredly, I have gotten used to having a baby around. I have really grown to love Little Miss B. She is just such a darling baby. I wish I could post a picture of her for you to see. I adore her the way I adored Megan as a baby. I love most everything about her. I find myself whispering sweet nothings into her ears. At night, when I put her to bed, I tell her I want her to be my baby forever. I tell her it's not fair that I love her and have to give her back. I tell her to tell Heavenly Father that she should be my baby (even though I know I shouldn't say that). I ask her if she wants to be mine, and then she smiles at me, or laughs. And I hold her close because I won't be able to hold her much longer. Then she'll be gone and I'll most likely never hold her again. I don't want to let her go, but I have to.

So, I found myself grieving for this child that isn't even mine, that I haven't even lost yet. I guess it stems back to the fact that a part of me still aches to bare my own children. Granted, I've told myself a zillion times that I'm over it and that it doesn't matter. After all, it is absolutely true that we never would have found Megan had our lives not set us in this direction. And we wouldn't give up Megan for 15 biological children, and that's the honest truth. But still...

this is not the path we chose. We did not choose to be infertile. Sure, we chose to adopt because we wanted to be parents, but we would rather have had our own (and it would have been a thousand times easier, I think). Now we are foster parents. People put us on a pedastal for doing this. Thing is, we don't do foster care because we're "good people". We do it because we have to. We do it because I can't ever get pregnant and we need more kids and we don't feel right going more into debt to adopt more children. So, you see, foster care is not the path we chose. I would go so far as to say this foster care thing is not the path I want. I don't want to have to raise other people's children that come to us with their own issues. I don't want to deal with the problems. I don't want to deal with the hassle. I don't want to deal with having to love children, and then have them leave and never see them again. I just don't want to do it. But, we do it because we don't have a choice. We need more children and this is the only feasible way to do it.

So anyway, I was getting down on myself, you know, the "why me" statements. The look at so-and-so who pops out children like they're popcorn comparisons. The why can she get pregnant when she obviously shouldn't, but yet I can't when I obviously should be able to resentment. Basically, the life's not fair and I got the short end of the stick, depressing thoughts.

I hate it when I think this way. Thinking this way does not make me feel better. Wishing to have something I don't have never makes me feel better. So, instead, I tried something else. I got on the internet and started looking at a friend's blog who lost a baby last year. Her blog led me to many other blogs, with stories of grief and pain from lost children. So then I just started feeling grateful instead.

I'm grateful that Megan is healthy and happy. I'm grateful for a loving husband who has supported me emotionally when many men would shudder away. I'm grateful for my warm home. I'm grateful for my piano. I'm grateful that I have music in my life. I'm grateful that Jared is such an amazing dad. I'm grateful for the good family I came from, and for the good family I married into. I'm grateful for good friends, I'm grateful for the beautiful mountains across the street. I'm grateful that foster care is available for people like us. I'm most grateful for my Savior. I'm grateful that He knows me and helps me. I am grateful to know that my family can be together for all eternity; that life does not end at death. I am grateful to know that my Heavenly Father loves me and has given me every tool I need to return to Him some day.

With so many things to be grateful for, I find it hard to feel sorry for myself. I really have countless blessings. I truly am happy with my life. When I look at life in this perspective, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm a mom

I feel like I have nothing exciting to blog about any more. And if I blog I have to take pictures, too. I have not been taking pictures. I guess I have been too busy to think about what to blog about. If you ask me what I'm busy doing I couldn't tell you. I guess I'm just busy being a mom.

Making bottles, cleaning up spitup, changing nasty diapers. Giving the baby a bath right in the middle of lunch when she's vomited all over herself, for the third time in two days for no apparent reason. Making lunch, whipping up a snack here and there, making dinner. Cleaning up the high chairs 5 times a day. Cleaning up after dinner. Putting kids to bed. Cleaning up more after the kids go to bed. Going to the store. Taking the kids to the doctor. Making sure the house is somewhat tidy. Driving the foster kids to and from visits. Going to the park when it's actually nice outdise. Getting a daily chore done. Putting up the Christmas Tree. Saying "no" way too often. Cutting coupons. Kissing boo-boo's. Breaking up toddler fights. Ignoring tantrums. Sitting on the couch for 30 seconds. And then back up again. I feel like I'm working 100% of the time but have nothing to show for it. In fact, the house is usually messier at the end of the day than at the beginning- even though I've been working at it all day. Yes, I'm home all day, but it's not like I'm relaxing. Maybe a 20-minute show on Netflix while I do the dishes if all the kids are asleep at the same time. But that's it. Well, I guess you could count a few minutes on the toilet. That's my quality "me" time.

So anyway, I do nothing all day. But, no, that's not true. I do plenty all day. I'm a mom.

foster pictures

So, there is this rule in foster care that you can't post any pictures anywhere online of your foster kids. I definitely understand this rule; part of protecting children is protecting their online identity, and you have to be more careful about... everything... with foster children. I totally get it. It makes sense and I agree with the rule. The only thing is: it's just slightly annoying.

You see, I take pictures fairly often. I conveniently keep our camera on the piano so that I can snap pictures of the kids whenever they're doing something cute. The only problem is that, nowadays, Megan does many of her "cute" things with her foster siblings. This creates a problem. Instead of just grabbing the camera and snapping a quick picture, I have to move around the children in such a way as to not get T or B in the shot- just in case the picture ends up on my blog.

Then, I go a step further. I decide that it's okay to have a picture of T's back or a picture of B's foot... because, hey, they can't be identified by that. So, then I try to get a picture of Megan with a foster child in the background. After all, I'm blogging about our life and I want pictures of those kids, even if it is just of their pinky toe.

Furthermore, you see, I have all these bloggy plans to post cute pictures of Megan with B's elbow, or pictures of Megan and T's forehead, and then I never even post them. I am just wasting time trying to snap the right kind of pictures. It's just plain silly.

Cases in point:

Back in August I snapped this picture, which was to show that sometimes Megan and T actually do get along:

... and in the same post I was going to explain that the only way we can get them to eat without being a bad example to each other is to sit their high chairs in the following fashion:

Oh, and if you look closely in the following picture, you can see T's little hand in the left bottom corner. I was going to talk about the first round of Flu that went around the house, and that this picture was taken just minutes before Megan barfed all over this pretty new dress from Grandma.

I was also going to use the following picture to show how sweet Megan can be with the baby (though I admit this one almost crosses the line with the amount of baby-face-showing-ness):

Using this next picture, I was going to discuss how grateful I am for our van and that Megan and T have a grand old time sitting in the back together, taking off their shoes and singing songs... and falling asleep after all that fun:

In this picture below, I was going to talk about how, at Megan's birthday party, when I gave the kids stickers and crayons, little T (you can see his sleeve and his ear on the left) was the first one to stick a sticker on his nose. Then, Kienan & Megan followed suit. Oh yeah, I was also going to talk about Megan's birtday party (at which we danced, colored, built stacks of blocks & knocked them down, and danced some more):

And, lastly, I had plans to write a post about this cute little pumpkin patch here in our town. We took the kids about a month ago and they loved playing in the corn pit. (Now that you're a pro at finding pictures of T's various body parts, can you find him in these pictures?):

Now that you've seen a post full of backwards and half-shown children, I'm sure you're a little annoyed, too. It sure would be nice if you could see their cute little faces! Oh well... I suppose you'll just have to drop by for a visit, then.