What I Accomplisehd Today

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Forgive me for posting again so soon.

As a stay at home mom, most nights I go to bed feeling like I’ve accomplished absolutely nothing. For everything I did do, there are twenty things I didn’t get to.

Today, I decided to make a list of all I did. I’ve also included a few snap shots of the thoughts running through my mind and some of the action going on around me. You don’t have to read it all. But making it the list did help me feel marginally more accomplished than I do most days.

Today I:

Got up (long after the alarm went off)

Picked out clothes for two kids (picked out the other two last night)

Showered

Dressed

Got one kid into the shower

Dealt with Sloane’s rude attitude towards her sister

Got breakfast for four kids

Made lunches for three kids

Brewed coffee

Got four kids out the door

Dropped four kids off at school

Came home with one kid (have been driving the neighbor girl in addition to my three who are at school)

Made marinade for tomorrow’s roast

Drank coffee

Ate breakfast while formatting a bi-monthly newsletter I send out for a local minister

Checked facebook

Checked to be sure I had paid the natural gas bill (which I had)

Worked through two early reader books with Sloane

Put in a load of laundry

Encouraged Sloane to take down streamers from foster child’s birthday on Monday (she was super eager since it involved lots of climbing  and problem solving)

Put away two loads of laundry from the other day while facebook chatting with a friend. We brainstormed about marketing our small businesses.

Watched two videos on parenting adopted children while putting laundry away and facebook chatting

Started another load of laundry

Encouraged Sloane to finish with the streamers (She insists upon putting them into a tiny candy machine and carrying that over to the garbage. This is taking forever!)

Made a raw chocolate mint pie

Made gluten free banana muffins

Start some organic bread in the bread maker

Made lunch for Sloane (gluten free toast with homemade organic peanut butter)

Loaded the dishwasher

Got Sloane started on some math work

Put in another load of laundry

Worked on rhyming words with Sloane

Put some laundry away – discover one of the foster children peed the bed last night (feel like a failure for not noticing sooner. Really, what have I been up to?)

Strip foster children’s beds. Bring sheets to the basement to be washed (may not have mentioned I live in a two story house with a basement laundry room)

Edit a friend’s first blog post.

Suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed and in need of a bath (not something I usually indulge in)

Work with Sloane to tidy up her school work and colouring items left out from days past (sometimes I hurry the kids off to bed instead of making them clean up)

Watch some profile videos from an adoption funding program in the US. Contemplate the ridiculous cost of international adoption. Remember my sister saying years ago, “These countries should cover all the costs. In the end it will save them tons of money.” I consider the long term cost of children in orphanages who grow up to be struggling adults.

Take dough out of bread maker. Shape it into a dozen buns and one loaf of bread. Set it to rise.

Announce that I will have a bath.

Sloane decides she will not watch a movie after all. She’s been talking about doing so all afternoon. Now that I’m going to be doing something, she decides she won’t go to her room (which is the spot for movies)

I check on the rising bread and buns.

I run a bath and decide to finally give Downton Abbey a chance. People who know me are absolutely shocked that I’ve not seen it yet. I’m expected to be an avid fan.

Sloane goes to her room with much fanfare. After some choice words, she looses the “privilege” of watching a movie. She screams for her window to be shut (I’d been airing the rooms on this first nice day. Did I put that on the list? Sometime this morning I opened most of the windows.)

I shut Sloane’s window with a reminder that there’s a proper way to speak to me.

I check on the bath. It’s nearly ready.

Sloane screams for her window to be opened again.

I close and lock the bathroom door.

By the time I turn the water off and get situated – with my computer perched nearby so I can watch Downton Abbey – Sloane is happily playing in her room.

I think of all the things I should be doing: dishes, vacuuming, mopping floors, organizing my room, organizing the basement, working on my coffee/tea business, working on my income tax for last year, shopping at Ikea because the coupon I have expires this week.

I remember why I don’t bother taking baths. It’s not relaxing in the least.

I continue messaging a friend about her new blog. We discuss names.

I get out of the bath and hastily dress.

Summon Sloane out of her room.

Put the buns and bread in the oven.

Get out the door to pick up kids from school.

Remember the volunteer driver coming for the foster children (taking them to birth mom’s to celebrate a birthday) will likely be there a moment or two before we turn.

I go back inside, write a note, pin it to the door. It blows away. I secure it better.

Drive to the school. Park in the adjacent church parking lot.

Run across the field in pouring rain. Sloane decides with my glasses getting wet, I can’t see properly. She tries to guide me.

The bell rings. I locate the foster children.

I can’t find my own child. The neighbor girl usually brings her out. They’re nowhere to be found.

I herd the other children toward the car. Flora* worries the driver will leave without them if we’re not back soon.

Sloane ignores my instructions to leave the snow alone. She doesn’t have gloves. Her hands are freezing. I try to get her to walk with me. She resists and falls backwards into a pile of slush.

I don’t have time for this. I can’t find Elise*.

Putting the foster children in the car, I head back towards the school. There I discover the neighbor girl went home sick. Elise is waiting by the door with her teacher.

We trudge back across the field. Sloane again starts picking up snow. Again I try to take her hand. Again she makes a big scene. I talk to her. She refuses to comply. I pick her up. She kicks and screams. I put her down. She throws some snow at me. I pick her up again.

Eventually we make it to the car.

I calm Flora’s fears and assure her I really am trying my best to go quickly. I buckle Elise.

We drive home. The volunteer driver is in our driveway.

I park on the street. I get the foster kids out of the car. Three times I tell Flora to go get the bag with her birthday outfit from the house. Finally she understands me. (Although we went over this plan endlessly last night, before school, and on our short drive home she’s still unclear.)

I greet the driver, explain where Flora’s headed, get Marcus* into the driver’s car.
When Flora emerges from the house, I get her into the car.

They drive away. I pull into my driveway.

I get Elise and Sloane out of the car.

In the house, I get the bread out of the oven.

I talk with my daughters while they eat some fruit.

I serve up raw mint chocolate pie.

Sloane spits out the first bite. She wants to try more. I insist she doesn’t because I don’t want anymore spit all over the place.

Elise makes a mess of her pie – insisting she likes it but not taking a single bite.

I eat some pie. I check emails and facebook posts. I continue chatting with the friend I’ve been in contact with all day. We discuss her employment prospects.

I announce we will go out for dinner.

Elise and Sloane announce they must change from track pants into dresses. They bring down an assortment of their fanciest. I try to explain where we’re going – a local independent, diner. They go upstairs and come down with another assortment of formal wear.

Eventually I get them appropriately dressed.

My friend I’ve been chatting with suggests we go for dinner with her.

We drive to her nearby town.

We have dinner. Sloane is less than well behaved. She’s angry I won’t let her have pop.

I discuss who I can possibly get to watch my kids when I go to California for a week in May (need to do some training for my volunteer position at the church)

Elise drinks ketchup from her plate with a straw. Somehow I miss this at first.

I pay and discussing with Sloane how long the waitress we had has been working there (the woman mentioned she was new). Elise wipes the specials off the white board beside us.

We drive my friend home.

I drive home. Elise tells me repeatedly she hopes the volunteer driver drops the foster kids off before we get there. I assure her that won’t happen, but then start to panic. What if they come back early?

I stop to get the mail.

We go home. Elise and Sloane decide not to come out of the car. After several giving several rational reasons for them to, I go to the front door alone. Reluctantly they follow.

While they get their pjs on I make the foster children’s beds with their sheets fresh from the dryer (obviously went to the basement to get them).

I brush Sloane & Elise’s teeth. I put them to bed. I hug and kiss them. I make sure they know they’re loved.

I start doing dishes.

The foster children return. I hear about all the fun they had at their mom’s. I assure them I’m very happy and interested in everything they have to say.

When they’re done, I send them to put on their pjs.

I wash a few more dishes.

I got upstairs to get the foster kids to bed – no hugs or kisses, seems a little soon when they’ve only been with me a week. But I make sure they know they’re cared for and wanted. (Not that I want to keep them from their parents, or rejoice in the calamities that brought them into foster care – but you know what I mean and so do the kids)

While washing the rest of the dishes I watch a short video from someone in the Ukraine. I realize I should find out what’s going on there. I wonder how the political unrest will affect adoptions that are underway. I worry about children languishing in orphanages. I wonder if my life of fostering and raising my two adopted daughters is really enough. There’s so much more I could be doing. Maybe I should move to the Ukraine. I tidy the kitchen.

I decide that’s enough for today. I’m ok with the fact that the floor isn’t swept. I’m going upstairs so I don’t have to look at it.

I write this lengthy, useless blog. I post it. I watch a bit more of Downton Abbey. I eat some more raw mint chocolate pie. I hope it’s healthy.

I go to bed.

Tomorrow I get to do it all again.

*name changed

 

Wonder

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Canada's Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir THE CANADIAN PRESS/Paul Chiasson

Canada’s Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir THE CANADIAN PRESS/Paul Chiasson

Recently when out for lunch Sloane* was a little too exuberant. At a local pub, she saw figure skating for the first time. As an athlete was thrown in the air by her partner Sloane shouted with delight. Not far from us sat a couple with two children – probably 6 & 8. The kids turned to glare at my girl. You see, they were that new breed of eerily silent children. I don’t think they made a single sound all through lunch. Every time Sloane did their heads whipped around in shock and disgust.

“Silence!” their wordless looks shouted at my little girl.

It’s true – she’s loud. There are times I wish she’d come with a volume button. But I don’t want to silence the joy. Despite her challenges, Sloane still manages to find joy in the everyday.

Really the feats accomplished in figure skating are pretty impressive. So much so that seeing them for the first time is a definite reason to gasp and shout with joy.

Don’t let those stares stop you. Keep on finding wonder wherever you can my precious daughter.

*name changed

The Weekend

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Saturday morning Marcus* stood in the doorway to his room covered in dried barf. Shortly after he went to bed the night before, I heard a cough that sounded like throwing up. Seems I should have investigated further. Wrongly, I figured if Marcus threw up he’d let me know. In the week he’s been here, I’ve established myself as the one to come to when he needs anything or there’s any conflict with the other kids. Sitting in my room, trying to catch up on emails, I overestimated the connection we’d made.

Marcus threw up in his bed then went to sleep.

“Is that barf on you?” I ask in the morning.

“I don’t know,” Marcus answers. His cute, innocent face makes a lot of appearances – especially when I ask about using the toilet. That was an issue before he arrived. This week I’ve kept him in pull ups. When I ask if he’s wet himself, Marcus answers, “I don’t know,” with a cute, innocent face.

“You do know if you threw up.”

“No, I don’t,” he sincerely replies.

“Yes, you do. You threw up and slept in a bed full of barf.” I must admit my tone wasn’t pleasant. Years of working with special/high needs kids I’ve discovered even the slightest positive tone is an invitation for behavior to continue. I really don’t want Marcus sleeping in barf again, so I’m serious when I say, “That is not allowed.” I explain what should have occurred – telling me right away so I could clean him and his bed up – before sending him into the shower.

There is barf on the floor, walls, and bed. It’s gross. Laundry begins before I get breakfast on the table and continues throughout the day. Elise* pees her pants while playing outside in the snow. Sloane* pees shortly after that. Of course she waits until her sisters’ clothes are nearly done in the washing machine. Another load of laundry goes in. Owing to Marcus’ toileting issues my own girls are becoming lax.

I didn’t shower Saturday which always makes me feel a little less cheery. Flora*, Marcus sister, who arrived with him last Friday is turning 9 on Monday. In the midst of laundry and making meals, I tried very hard to tidy the house. We’re having a small party to celebrate Flora’s birthday. It’s Family Day, the kids are off school. My friend will be coming with her three foster children and I’ve invited the girl next door. I worry about making this special enough for Flora. She was expecting a big party at a nearby indoor playground. Her mom made a lot of promises about this birthday before she came into foster care and since. Twice a week the kids get to have a 1hr supervised visit with their mom.

So I go all out. The kids will make their own personal pizzas – will even get imagesto roll out the dough. I’ve made and iced cupcakes. Flora decorated. She desperately wanted to be involved in the preparations. My friend, the one with the three foster girls, stopped by today.

She asked how Marcus and Flora like living at my house. Being lunch, their mouths were full of food. Their heads bobbed and thumbs popped up before they could swallow to exclaim, “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! We like it!”

Another foster mom friend pointed out the possibility of this being a honeymoon phase. I’d not thought of that. In the past with special/high needs foster children there never was a honeymoon phase. I always found the first few weeks the hardest. Whatever the case, I’m glad the children are happy with me. And that Flora is looking forward to spending her birthday here tomorrow.

The Single Life

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Recently I was invited to share at my church’s young adult’s group. The topic was “The Joy of Being Single”. Not much of a speaker, I wrote everything down (including my prayers) and read directly from my notes. Still the words seemed to make a positive impact. I am deeply grateful to my friend, who leads the group along with her husband. Thanks to their invitation I’ve been able to gather my thoughts on being a single Christian woman.

I’ve included my entire message. I warn you it’s long. But thought you might enjoy it – especially if you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day alone.

woman holding hot cup of coffee, with heart shape

Let’s open in prayer. Holy Spirit, thank you for the opportunity to share tonight. I pray You would move beyond my limitations to the heart of this matter. Father God, I ask You to bring a revelation of Your Son to the deepest parts of our heart. Jesus, we want to align ourselves as Your bride, Your beloved, Your chosen one. Remove anything keeping us from fully living there. Amen

Since I’m single, I get to talk to you about the joy of being single. I’m nearly 37. That seems so old to me. Sometimes I can’t believe I’ve been around that long. I’ve never been married. I’ve never had sex. You wouldn’t believe it now, but there was a time when I had my fair share of offers.

Growing up, I kind of expected to get married. But I didn’t make that my primary focus. Instead, I devoted myself to serving the Lord. I’ve never spent much time waiting for a man to come along – not that I wouldn’t welcome the right one if he did come along. But I believe the Lord has a plan for my life. If marriage hasn’t happened, there’s something else He has for me in this season. And I really don’t think it’s to my benefit, or the Lord’s, for me to waste time pining for something that may or may not happen. Nor am I going to waste time with frivolous dating or hooking up.

In my early 20’s, after being heart broken by the end of a very beautiful and godly romance, Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 7 shook things up for me.

Let me read verse 8-9 in 1 Corinthians 7:

Now to the unmarried and the widows I say: It is good for them to stay unmarried, as I do.But if they cannot control themselves, they should marry, for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.

Better to marry than to burn with passion, is something I’ve heard preached and quoted many a time. I’ve yet to hear anyone focus on the fact that Paul says “It is good to stay unmarried.” We live in a culture obsessed with romantic love. Sadly, the church isn’t much better. Too often love is really nothing more than lust. According to the apostle Paul, it’s good to be single.

Sometimes in life, especially, the Christian world, being single is looked upon as a problem to be solved. Too often, singles are waiting for their life to begin. We’ve bought into the idea that marriage is God’s ultimate goal for our lives. It may be society’s stamp of approval – but it’s not the Lord’s.

If there are issues in your heart or your personal life that make you a poor candidate for marriage, by all means deal with those things. Bring yourself to a healthy places. Deal with past pain or fear because of the example of marriage you saw growing up. Don’t hinder yourself if marriage is something the Lord’s put on your heart. Don’t choose to be single if that’s not the Lord’s intention for you. Do the necessary work to heal your heart so that you’re ready.

But if you’ve dealt with all of that and you’re still single, hear me very clearly. The Lord is not displeased with you. He is not holding out on you. He’s not keeping you from the good life. He has you in this season for a specific reason. I don’t say that lightly. You are not called to sit around waiting for love to show up on your doorstep. You are called to advance the kingdom of God. For reasons you may never understand, the Lord has determined you can best do that as a single person right now. That’s not to say, you won’t marry. If that is His intention for your life, a mate will come when He sees fit. In the meantime let’s get busy advancing.

When I was 10 the Lord put the dream of adopting on my heart. He did so by showing me the beginning verses of Isaiah 54.

“Sing, barren woman,
you who never bore a child;
burst into song, shout for joy,
you who were never in labor;
because more are the children of the desolate woman
than of her who has a husband,”
says the Lord.
2 “Enlarge the place of your tent,
stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back;
lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes.
3 For you will spread out to the right and to the left;
your descendants will dispossess nations
and settle in their desolate cities.

4 “Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame.
Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated.
You will forget the shame of your youth
and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood.
5 For your Maker is your husband—the Lord Almighty is his name—
the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth.

As I grew up, the Lord continually confirmed His call on my life to be a mother. I hoped it would be with a husband. But I knew, I couldn’t let that stand in my way. The Lord called me with the possibility of me literally being the barren woman, her without a husband, spoken of in Isaiah.

For the past five years I’ve been a foster parent. I raised one special needs child through adolescence and into adulthood. 1 ½ ago I adopted two little girls who came to me as foster children. Sloane* is nearly 6 and Elise* is 4. They’ve been with me almost three years now.

Just before they came, the Lord, my husband, worked a miracle for me to be able to buy a house. It’s huge. When I first started looking for a home, I expected to end up in something very modest. But my house really was an enlarging of my tent as talked of in Isaiah. Shortly after I got the house, the Lord filled it.

Now with my two daughters, I’m following the Lord as He leads me into the next phase of life for us. I’ve built a life for myself and my children. I’ve not done it in the conventional way.

In case you’re wondering about the legitimacy of me adopting while single, the New Testament talks a lot about us being adopted into the family of God. But the only picture of adoption in the natural is Moses. He was spared from death and adopted by Pharoh’s daughter. Neither the Bible nor historical accounts indicate she was married. By all appearances she was a single woman. That’s who God chose to raise the man who would lead His people out of slavery. My kids may not grow up to do anything that significant, but I qualify as their mom. It’s in the Bible.

As I said, I live far from ordinary. Some of you need to start thinking outside of the box when it comes to your own life.

The Lord isn’t hindered by your singlehood. You might be – but He isn’t. Misty Edwards made a comment recently when she was speaking at the One Thing Conference. She said, “Some of you are so preoccupied with the idol of being married one day and hopefully that’s going to solve all your problems.” I’m sure any married person you know will confirm, getting married does not solve all your problems. It creates a whole new set of them. Paul mentions this in 1 Corinthians 7.  (reading from the Message version):

1 Corinthians 7:32-35

The Message (MSG)

 I want you to live as free of complications as possible. When you’re unmarried, you’re free to concentrate on simply pleasing the Master. Marriage involves you in all the nuts and bolts of domestic life and in wanting to please your spouse, leading to so many more demands on your attention. The time and energy that married people spend on caring for and nurturing each other, the unmarried can spend in becoming whole and holy instruments of God. I’m trying to be helpful and make it as easy as possible for you, not make things harder. All I want is for you to be able to develop a way of life in which you can spend plenty of time together with the Master without a lot of distractions.

The NIV says,

“I am saying this for your own good, not to restrict you, but that you may live in a right way in undivided devotion to the Lord.”

Being single may only be a season. But in this season, I implore you to make the most of the place you’re at. Go after the dreams God’s placed in your heart. Forcefully advance the Kingdom. Live the life the Lord has designed for you today. Don’t waste your time fantasizing about falling in love. Don’t waste your time waiting for a man or woman to walk into your life. Encounter Jesus – today, now, in your present state. Let Him be your husband, your wife. Let Him connect with you. Let Him reveal the glory of the season you’re in. He’s not gritting His teeth trying to get through this to the point when you’re married. Neither should you. There is a specific purpose for the season you’re in. If you need clarity on what it is, press in. Ask Holy Spirit to reveal it to you. If you need help embracing this season, choose to put aside your own mindsets. Step out of the expectations – spoken or unspoken – of the culture you live in. Let the culture of heaven be your compass.

Mike Bickle, from the International House of Prayer, mentioned about a year ago, an increase in the earth of the anointing for celibacy. I’m not going to call you forward if you want that imparted. But if you’re single, it’s an anointing you need. Asking the Lord for it won’t seal your fate – it won’t keep you locked in a single state. But choosing to wallow in the struggle to remain sexually pure, isn’t going to move the hand of God. He’s not going to send you a spouse because He sees you yielding to sin. Single or married, you need Holy Spirit’s intervention to remain pure or regain purity if it’s something you’ve lost.

Like the apostle Paul says in 2 Corinthians 11:2, I am jealous for you with a godly jealousy. The leadership of this ministry are jealous for you with a godly jealousy. The Lord Himself is jealous for you. 2 Corinthians 11:2 goes on to say, “I promised you to one husband, to Christ, so that I might present you as a pure virgin to him.”

Recently this verse rocked me. Father God spoke it right to my heart – I promised you to one husband, to Christ.

Let that sink in for a minute. Guys as well, you are promised to one love – to Christ. Married or single, I encourage you to renew that vow. You have been promised to Christ. As such, live a life worthy of the calling you have received.

In closing, I want to pray over you.

Close your eyes. Take a moment to bring forward any of the issues I’ve touched on that hit home for you.

Maybe you’re carrying shame because you’re still single.

Maybe you’ve made marriage an idol.

Maybe you’ve let go of your purity because you got tired of waiting or couldn’t see the point.

Maybe you’ve been stuck – waiting to get married in order to fulfill the call of God on your life.

Maybe you’ve despised being single. Instead of seeing it as an opportunity you’ve thought of it as a curse.

Whatever resonated with you, or whatever the Lord’s bringing to mind – just release that to Him now.

I’m just going to pray on your behalf and mine.

Father God, I thank you that You are a God of order. With you there is a time for everything and a season for every activity. Forgive me for not fully embracing the season I’m in. I repent for trying to hurry through it or fantasize myself out of it. Every good gift comes for you, Father God. I choose to see being single as a gift. Help me to make the most of this season.

I ask you, Holy Spirit to wash me – body, soul, and spirit – from any trace of shame that’s taken root in my life because I am single. Your word says it’s a good thing. I choose to stop contradicting your Word. Cause my emotions and desires to come into alignment with the season You have me in. I ask for Your anointing so that, whatever the future holds, I can present myself with purity to You, Jesus.

 I step into everything You have for me right now. Forgive me for any times I’ve held back – discrediting myself because I’m single. You do not discredit me. You have specific assignments that I’m only able to complete in this state of singleness. I chose to open my eyes and my heart to see all You have for me.

Instead of looking for a spouse, I vow to look for You – Lord Jesus. I present myself to You today. Walk with me. Reveal Your heart so that I can love you better – and in turn be ready to love my spouse if that is where this journey leads me.

Regardless of the outcome, I declare Your love is enough. You are enough for me. You delight in me as I am. In this season, in this state of being single, You see me as complete. I am completely Yours. Thank you Jesus for the invitation to be wholly and completely Yours. I accept. Amen.

*name changed

two hearts

Staying Put for the Time Being

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Fostering with the local Children’s Aid Society hasn’t been all that advantageous. Since beginning in July I’ve had two placements, each lasting 6 weeks. This means I’ve been empty for 11 weeks. That’s a long time. I thought my age range, 0-8yrs, and being able to take up to three children would keep me busy. It’s not.

All this “vacation time” (since fostering is my only official job at the moment), has revealed something to me. I love parenting. As challenging as it is, I love the long haul. The triage of kids coming for 6 weeks isn’t where I do my best work. When they leave I feel like we’ve both wasted a lot of time. I try to impart to them, but with visits – sometimes three a week – with birth family it’s hard to connect. Of course I understand the importance of birth family involvement and all of that. Please don’t misunderstand me. It’s just, these short stints feel more like childcare than parenting. At this point, I’m not much of a childcare provider (I don’t even volunteer for kids’ church anymore). But I’m a really good parent.

Lamenting to a friend and fellow foster parent with the same Children’s Aid, I couldn’t really remember why I made the switch. The private agency I fostered for had some significant structural flaws. I was no longer proud to be a part of the organization. But all this time without foster children has me glamorizing for the good old days when I was a treatment foster parent. Most of those kids stayed as long as you wanted them to, which wasn’t always advantageous.

I know the Lord wanted me to switch. But I don’t know why or for how long. There have been times I’ve done exactly as He says without apparent success. This past week, I was ready to admit defeat. I want to foster. With the local Children’s Aid, that’s not something I’m able to do on a regular basis. So I gave the Lord one week. “If I don’t get a call by 5pm on Friday, February 7 I’m contacting my previous agency and begging to return.” It went without saying that call needed to be about an appropriate placement.

Thursday, February 6 I got a call from a social worker I’ve gotten to know (she did the training when I was applying to adopt a few years ago). “I don’t know if you’d be interested in this,” she began very tentatively. She’s the one who called me about Joseph* (see Love is Important). I couldn’t imagine anything more challenging. “We need a home for a girl, about to be 9, and a 7 year old boy.” A few more particulars were shared before she asked, “Should I go on or is it already a no?”

The siblings had been at another foster home for a week already. The issues – lying, possible intellectual delay, and incontinence – were more than the foster parents could manage. It’s not what I wanted. I was still hoping for a baby. But I said yes.

They arrived Friday. Thus far it’s been blissful. The little girl has been taking care of her brother for a long time. It’s hard for her to let me be in charge – even of my own kids. That’s been our biggest challenge. They’re sweet children, teachable and eager to please. They’re getting along well with Sloane* and Elise*.

So here we are. Once again four children are sleeping peacefully under my roof. Seems I’m staying put for the time being.

*name changed