There are two kinds of people in the world: Those who save extra ketchup/hot sauce/soy sauce/Chick-fil-A sauce packets, and money wasting heathens.
Adult: Here’s a ballon for you!
Josh: Can I have one for my brothers and sisters?
Adult: Sure! How many do you need?
Josh: You’re going to need a bag. . .
Tonight I am remembering the time my mom was trying to reference Lady Gaga and said, “That singer. . . you know. . . what’s her name. . . Madam Yahoo?” I am remembering that and I am laughing.
Lady: How old are you? Are you two?
Teddy: NO I TEDDY!
You know what sounds like fun? Reading a complex 15 minute tongue-twister at 8:30 at night when I am mentally and physically exhausted and just trying to GET THESE KIDS TO SLEEP ALREADY. So thanks for that, Dr. Seuss.
The three year-old thinks I see a “Crack-a-practor.”
#soclose #chiropractor #makessense
I’ve been a little quiet here recently. There’s a good reason for that. About a decade ago we left our group home work with tears and love for our boys and a promise that if they needed us, we would always want to do what we could to be a support for them. Which is how Thursday I found myself frantically scrubbing the guest bathroom, rearranging furniture, and then late that night running across my front yard to hug a young man who was once a boy I carried on my hip and tucked into bed each night. The ending to this story has yet to be written, but I’ve learned to trust God with how these things play out and just be thankful for every day I get to have a part to play in His good work of loving the people he brings into my home. So I’ve been a little busy rearranging my world to accommodate this new normal (for however long it is our new normal), but I couldn’t be happier about it. And it’s made me want to encourage all of you involved in the world of foster care to remember that goodbyes aren’t always goodbyes. When we promise to love kids “forever” it should actually mean forever even if we don’t get to raise them. Being kind to biological families can help keep the door open for relationships even years down the line. And no matter how tall you are, how deep your voice, how independent you may be, you never NEVER outgrow the need for support, love, acceptance, for family.
I was aggressively bouncing the toddler on my lap while singing loudly when I accidentally inhaled my hair and gagged. You know, just a normal Monday.
Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, so I’ve got a word of wisdom for our men. We know this can be an overwhelming moment- trying to figure out what would express love without being cheesy or cliched. So I want to give you a moment of inspiration from one of the most romantic (and cheapest. . .) gestures I’ve ever experienced. When my husband and I were dating, he once ordered me a hamburger with extra pickles. I didn’t ask for the extra pickles, but I do really like pickles. For a long time (YEARS) I carried that receipt in my wallet as some kind of unintentional love note from him. He knew me well enough to know what I would like even if it wouldn’t occur to me to ask for it or to splurge on myself that way. While the specifics may be different, that’s really what we all want- we want to know we’re known and we’re loved for who we are. So you don’t have to do chocolates or flowers or jewelry or whatever. Just find that thing that makes her happy- that thing that only you know because you have been studying her and what makes her happy like it’s your job. It may be just a little thing (like extra pickles), but it will mean the world to her.
Joel (5): Look, Mom! I drew you!
Me:. . . Thank you. . . ?
#whyamIbald #whereismynose #whythesoullesseyes#SOMANYQUESTIONS
Husband: You can’t really tell what the message is on this candy heart. The writing is all blurred. So, just decide whatever would mean the most to you and pretend it says that. Happy Valentine’s Day.
I didn’t anticipate being the mom who would text a child at midnight that there were nachos on the counter if he wanted any, but then again, I didn’t exactly anticipate having a teenager back in my life this week.