Are You Trying to be Nobody?

The question caught me off guard.

Raine repeated herself, “Are you trying to be nobody?”

That Saturday morning I was trying to be exceptionally cheerful. We were supposed to go out for breakfast with their birth grandmother and cousin. But she’d had to cancel. Friends we were supposed to visit a farm with that afternoon had also canceled. I was still planning to take the kids out for breakfast and to the farm, but Athena woke feeling unwell. So we were staying home. Our day went from being filled with excitement to very drab. I was making pancakes and trying to convince Raine it was all ok.

“These cups!” she shouted when I failed to understand her. “Nobody drinks juice out of teacups. You’re trying to be nobody!”

The force in her voice gave the impression she didn’t much appreciate my attempt to be nobody.

“I like being nobody. I like to do things that nobody else does. Sometimes it’s best to be nobody,” I answered.

Thanks to a disgruntled 14 year old who trashed my house and kicked several

what we're drinking out of these days

what we’re drinking out of these days

holes in the wall, I’ve been reorganizing and redecorating. Sometime ago a friend was overwhelmed by all my dishes. I have two complete formal sets and one partial along with three everyday sets. She suggested scaling back but at that point I wasn’t ready. Her encouraging words returned to me recently. So I let go of my everyday dishes and replaced them with a partial set of formal china. The array of glass cups gave way to assorted tea cups. That’s what I was serving juice in on a very disappointing Saturday morning.

“These are beautiful!” Raine exclaimed, carefully handling the delicate cup. She was happy with the change though had sounded otherwise with her repeated question, “Are you trying to be nobody?”

The quest for individuality has always been a driving force in my life. It’s part of how God made me. Everything in me wants to go against the flow. The way I dress and decorate, the way our home is run, the choices I make tend to be counter-culture. I am praying other single, godly women step into adoption. In this area I don’t always want to be the only one. But for now, in my real-life world, I am. That’s ok. I don’t mind being a nobody.

Athena Turns 5

IMG_20140922_115545On Friday, September 19 Athena turned 5. It fills my heart with joy to see the amazing child she’s become. Birthdays always have me looking back on changes over the years.

My mom has started a tradition of taking the girls shopping shortly before their birthday. They’re allowed to pick out their own birthday gifts. Last year, before her 4th birthday, Athena didn’t enjoy the shopping trip. She couldn’t understand why only she was going. Without her sister or I along, Athena was very shy and withdrawn.

This year as her birthday drew near, Athena reminded my mom she needed to take her shopping. With joy, she looked forward to their time together. “And you’re not coming,” she told her sister. “Just me! Only I’m going!” Athena said with a smile.

The Sunday before her birthday, she went. Athena wanted to go to my parents’ house first. My mom had a friend visiting from England. That surprised Athena but it wasn’t long before she was comfortable. Athena devised a plan for lunch – bagels with Nutella and sliced strawberries. Apparently it was delectable. “I made up my own recipe!” Athena told me. Often she contemplates being a baker.

Athena and I - so happy together

Athena and I – so happy together

After having lunch, they went shopping. Athena returned talkative and excited. Last year she was sullen for the remainder of the day, unimpressed with the gifts she’d chosen and the fact that I’d sent her off without the safety net of our immediate family.

This year everything was different. More and more, Athena’s becoming comfortable in the world at large. When she sees familiar faces at church, she runs to greet them. When friends come to visit she doesn’t want them to leave.

And the girl who hates photos, kept jumping into every shot I tried to take the day of her birthday. I love watching my girls grow and change. I love seeing them flourish as they become confident in their position and the love of those around them. I love celebrating all God’s done!

Raine wanted to dress up as a princess in celebration of her sister's birthday. Athena didn't want to be left out of the picture.

Raine wanted to dress up as a princess in celebration of her sister’s birthday. Athena didn’t want to be left out of the picture.

 

I Like a Quiet House

A friend of mine is considering fostering. It’s a dream that’s been on her heart for a long time. As we discussed it in the presence of her son, his response made me think.

“I like a quiet house,” he gave as the reason he wasn’t fully on board.
“So do I,” was my response when I was done laughing.

As a quiet, contemplative person, I love a quiet house. It’s something I long for and032 work hard to get. Still, with two very loud children, it isn’t generally achieved.

Life as a foster mom is much louder than I ever imagined. I don’t really like that.

As my friend pointed out her son, it isn’t always what we want that’s important.

It’s a well known fact that I’m a foster/adoptive parent. My daughters are quick to explain to perfect strangers how they became mine. I’m continually surprised by the number of people who tell me, “I’ve always wanted to adopt,” or “I really feel like God’s calling me to foster.” My answer is always, “You should!” If it’s God calling, you definitely should.

In reality most of these people won’t adopt or foster. Most will choose the comfort of a quiet home, a predictable life, safe encounters where there’s little chance of heart break.

After encouraging people to pursue fostering/adopting most answer, “It would break my heart to have kids leave.” Yes, it really might. Even if it doesn’t – because sometimes kids going isn’t all that hard – you will be required to sacrifice. It may be a quiet home, a part of your heart, the lifestyle you enjoy, or any other number of luxuries.

I do like a quiet & tidy house. Without special/high needs kids I could have that. Instead I’ve chosen to dive deep into a world full of turmoil and pain. It isn’t always easy or fun. But, pushing against the concern for comfort that dominates our culture, I’ve decided to make the sacrifice. You could, too.

Perfect Love

Raine is absolutely in love with horses. Before ever having ridden one, she’d already planned her life around having one. Everywhere we go, despite my discouragement, she asks people how much they get paid for the work they do. She’s gathering information to select a career that will give her enough money to own a horse (and buy me an electric car – but that’s another story).

When a friend told me she was putting her 3 foster children in horseback riding daycamp, I decided to send Raine as well. I was sure she’d have the time of her life.

heading to camp Monday morning

heading to camp Monday morning

Monday went ok. But Tuesday was a disaster. She refused to listen to the teachers – repeatedly running away from her group into a small cluster of trees. My friends girls went after her. That didn’t help. When my friend’s husband arrived to pick the kids up, Raine was completely out of sorts – telling people to leave her alone and shut up. There’s a lot of power in her verbal punches.

At home, I sat Raine down to talk to her. She dished out more of the same attitude telling me it was none of my business what she did at camp.

Instead of being happy about camp,  Raine took it as an act of rejection on my part. She thought I was pushing her away when in reality I was giving her an amazing opportunity.

The more I talked the more hostile Raine became.

“If you keep acting this way at camp, you won’t be able to go back,” I said.

Apparently, the camp instructor had been completely overwhelmed by Raine. I know how forceful she can be. I thought her love of horses would prevent any major upsets. Clearly, I was wrong.

Raine’s attitude stopped when I told her she wasn’t going the next day. Suddenly she relaxed. Then we could talk about the real problem.

“It’s too long to be away from you,” she explained.

“She needs to get used to it,” I’ve been told before by friends and social workers.

It’s true. At 6 1/2yrs this type of separation anxiety isn’t natural nor is it healthy. Before the adoption, when Raine was my foster child, she did really well at daycare two days a week. There were never any issues. But something happened with the adoption. It introduced a deep rooted fear in Raine. Likely because she was completely cut off from her first mother she worries about loosing me. She knows it’s possible. At the age of 4 1/2 Raine found out parents can change. You can be disconnected from one family and attached to another. Staying with me soothes some of the fears.

So she stayed home on Wednesday. Maybe I should have pushed her. I don’t know. Were she plagued with a physical illness, no one would think anything of me deciding camp turned out to be too much for her. Wounds of the heart are not so easily forgiven.

Our time of being together on Wednesday wasn’t pretty. Raine unloaded all of her anger. She was down right furious that I’d sent her to camp for two days. I wasn’t much help, feeling like a failure. After all this time together, my daughter should be doing better. At least I think she should. I want her to because I can see how the fear cripples her. I know my God is capable of instant miracles. That’s what I want for Raine – a miraculous healing of her heart.

After a few hours of lamenting the state we were in, I realized in many ways we’re ahead instead of behind. Attaching to adoptive parents can be difficult for children – especially in the case of older child adoption. The fact that Raine values our connection so much she’s afraid to loose it is a good thing. Fear isn’t helpful, but the valuing is incredibly significant. She really loves me and wants to be with me. As we move through our day, Raine intentionally imitates me. So much of her pursuits mirror my own interests – gardening, cooking, sewing, and so on. She wants to be like me and wants to be with me. Those are healthy signs of attachment. Maybe we’re not doing as poorly as I thought.

Yes, Raine’s behaviour is completely unacceptable. I’m not excusing the outbursts at camp. In speaking to her about it, Raine reminded me, “I live in fear.” We prayed together. I prayed breaking off fear of rejection.

Thursday Raine was ready to go back to camp. She managed without incident.

Friday, we got to watch her and the other children perform their new found skills.

I wish, for Raine’s sake, the week had gone better. I hate that fear holds her back.

“How do I get it out of me?” she asked.

“The Bible says: perfect love pushes fear out,” I answered. “You need more love.”

“From Jesus.”

“Yes.”

love fear