The Fun of It All

This weekend my friend’s three foster daughters were with us. Two are 14, one is 10. Overall it was a really great time – perhaps the best we’ve had. There were two minor meltdowns. Raine and one of the 14yr olds were able to pull themselves together after small setbacks.

I didn’t bother questioning if 14yr old Emma* had all her belongings before leaving. That avoided a lengthy battle. Inevitably she always leaves something behind. Last time it was her curling iron. Me pointing out the overlooked items fills her with rage. Though I see it as doing her a favour making sure she has everything, Emma disagrees.

The new plan is to ignore any forgotten items. But that didn’t quite come together. The girls departed without me checking their rooms or the bathroom. Then I discovered Emma had taken my toothbrush and left hers. I text. My friend called and we had a conversation including Emma. The girl pulled a toothbrush out of her bag. With certainty she claimed it as her own. It was orange. Emma’s is green.

“What did you use when you brushed your teeth this morning?” my friend asked.

“The green one,” Emma answered.

“Then why did you bring the orange one home?”

“Because it’s mine.”

Oh the fun of it all – trying to understand her muddled mind.

“I have an extra. I don’t need it back,” I told my friend. “But just thought I’d let you know so she doesn’t use it.”

Thankfully that conversation wasn’t mine to have – why using someone else’s toothbrush is not a good idea. I’ve had my fair share of those types of conversations with Sabrina* (foster child with me for 5yrs) and Megan* (foster child with me for 2yrs). Like Emma, both of them suffer from intellectual limitations. No doubt I will have similar conversations in the future as I prepare to again foster special needs children.

Off the phone I had to laugh. I’ve resolved to start finding the fun in it all. Not at the children’s expense. I expect when she she fully realized the situation, Emma was laughing as well.

*name changed

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How Do I Get It All Done?

“I don’t know how you manage on your own,” is a statement I often hear from married friends. Even with a helpful husband around raising kids and taking care of a home is hard work.

So how do I get it all done?

The answer is: I don’t. I really don’t get it all done. My house is an array of half completed projects. The stairwell still needs to be painted. I have new sinks to install in both bathrooms and then I’ll tackle the new floors that are needed. The basement has become a makeshift baby store as I pile up the items being given to me in case I get a baby. (Even if I do, I’m planning to ship a bunch of stuff to my sister – who is expecting – as soon as she and her husband find a new house.) There is clean laundry abounding around the bedrooms. Most days I can manage to get it down to the basement, washed,and brought back up. By that point it’s bedtime and I leave if for another day which comes around eventually.

One of the highlights of my recent childfree trip to California was staying in a tidy, uncluttered apartment. It did me good to remember one day the mess will be over. My kids will grow up. Toys won’t always litter the hallways. Dirty socks won’t appear in the most unlikely places forever. This is just a season I’m in.

Sometimes it’s hard to appreciate the season. Despite the state of my house, I do have standards and expectations that I find myself continually falling short of. I’m not a perfectionist but enjoy a sense of decorum and order. Since I started homeschooling that has become impossible. The only time I don’t have a child or children underfoot is when they’re in bed. By that time I’m so depleted I do fun things like blogging or watching British crime dramas.

Most days I feel like I don’t get much of anything done at all. I mange to put three meals of some nutritional value on the table each day. I keep the kids relatively clean – though that’s becoming more difficult with the onset of good weather. My children are drawn to dirt and mud like a magnet. On short notice I can throw together a decent family dinner when my siblings come by to visit. But don’t check the top of the china cabinet. Apparently, it hasn’t been dusted in quite some time.

This week, aside from completing my first official catering job, my greatest accomplishment was mowing the grass. My pictures don’t do it justice. The place was turning into a jungle. Now when I look out my back patio door, there’s a sense of accomplishment. It’s small, but I’ll take it.

in the midst of mowing

in the midst of mowing

For the Love of Food

Since childhood, I’ve been in love with food. As soon as I could read, I devoured recipe books. It wasn’t long before I was experimenting in the kitchen. Since then I’ve been cooking & baking, some might say, excessively.

As a teenager I worked with a lady from church catering weddings and other large scale events. In my early 20’s I thought about becoming a caterer but it seemed so daunting. I wasn’t as enterprising as I am now – staring an on-line store and publishing books.

I have helped out with events at church but yesterday had a chance to officially cater an event. It was for a neighbouring Children’s Aid Society. They rented our church to offer further training to foster parents.

With two young children and still recovering from a lengthy trip, making enough muffins and desserts for 72 adults and 16 children was no easy task. After being separate from me for a week, Raine and Athena refused to leave my side. So I put them to work.

making mini cheesecakes

making mini cheesecakes

They even came with me to serve coffee at the start of the training – since it was before the start of school and too early to drop Raine off at the babysitter’s. They choose some nice dresses to wear for the occasion. I must admit I wore a black dress with a bit of lace around the neck and hem along with a fancy ruffled apron.

Of course I had gluten free and vegan options for everything. There were lots of fruits and veggies. It would have been easier to just buy most items.  But I’m not one to take the easy road.

There were many moments that made all the work worthwhile. Mainly I wanted to honour the foster parents. I know the food generally served at these events. I’ve been to many myself. It’s usually cheap pizza and some store bought cookies. That’s not at all what I served.

Morning Break:

handcrafted muffins (including a gluten free & vegan option), fresh fruit (apples, oranges, bananas)

Lunch:

herb roasted chicken, Spanish rice, salad

mini cheese cakes, date squares, coconut macaroons, chocolate chip cookies, fruit (blueberries, strawberries, pineapple, melon)

Afternoon Break:

movie theater style popcorn, veggies & dip

I’m quite proud of how it turned out. Judging from the responses of the social workers and foster parents, my message of honour was well received.

 

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Feels Like Home to Me

Chantal Kreviazuk‘s song Feels Like Home has been playing in my mind since I got back late Friday evening. My girls were already asleep. I might have woken them up just to say, “I’m home and I love you.” Athena grabbed my face and didn’t want to let go.

Neither really remembered the next morning when they woke horribly early to greet me. “You’re never going anywhere ever again,” Athena announced, latching on to me.

Raine was less verbally expressive, but clearly happy to have me home.

It was a challenge for all of us – probably more so for my friend staying with the kids. “I don’t know how you get anything done,” she said on more than one occasion. Finding time for her work-from-home contracts didn’t come easily.

Some days I don’t get anything done – like today when my most concrete accomplishment is this blog. Yesterday, however, I found myself doing 3 loads of laundry, roasting 3 pounds of coffee, making 3 batches of muffins (for an event I’m catering this week). Unintentionally it was a day of 3s yesterday. All the while I found myself singing:

Somethin’ in your eyes, makes me wanna lose myself
Makes me wanna lose myself, in your arms
There’s somethin’ in your voice, makes my heart beat fast
Hope this feeling lasts, the rest of my life

If you knew how lonely my life has been
And how long I’ve been so alone
And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along
And change my life the way you’ve done

It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I’m all the way back where I come from
It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me
It feels like I’m all the way back where I belong…

So happy to be back where I belong!

a rare moment of sisterly love captured by my friend while I was gone

a rare moment of sisterly love captured by my friend while I was gone

Heading Home

Tonight I leave California. It’s been an eventful 5 days (six if you count our journey). I’ve met some amazing young people learning to navigate life with the Lord in ministry school.

I ran into a couple I knew ages ago. They live here now and our paths happened to cross at church Sunday morning. That had me thinking of some more past experiences the Lord wanted to work through. It also reminded me of a beautiful chapter of my life when I was young and free.

I don’t regret the current chapter of my life. This is exactly where are I’m meant to be. There is immense beauty – not all of it have I taken the time to enjoy. Returning home, I’m expecting to do more of that.

2 Corinthians 10:4 says:

The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.

One of the “weapons” the Lord has given me is peace. I’m coming home with that weapon sharpened for my own life and the life of my daughters.

Can’t wait to see these faces…….

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