Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gratitude. Show all posts

Thursday, August 03, 2017

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Seasons


I think I just realized that I have fully entered a new season in my life.

I don't know if it's weirder that I was just able to identify it or that I'm there. I think I've been considering this a temporary place. Of course it's temporary. They all are. Seasons, like people and circumstances are changing constantly. And this particular season is one I'm not hoping to move along any faster than it already is.

You all know we went from zero to three grandkids overnight three years ago. Our number has now swelled to four forevers, one on the way to forever and five in varying stages of semi-permanency in our fold.

I would not trade the sweet, sticky kisses or the silly laugh-a-thons for the world. Every minute I spend with any combination of my brood is a precious blessing. Exhausting. Sometimes frustrating even, but a blessing.

I had entered a point in my life four or five years ago where I was able to plan my life on my terms. That is a joke, of course. We've all heard the phrase, "Life is what happens when you make other plans." And life did. A mere three years ago I was taking music lessons. I had coffee dates with friends, I was able to have conversations with my mom and friends on a regular basis. I was blogging almost daily and creating recipes like a beast. I had hours of quietness in my day. Hours.

Somewhere in that quiet we said yes to two beagles. And our daughters and son said yes to fostering children, or growing one the old fashioned way. My kids' journeys are their own. And I get to watch from the sidelines. But two of our kids are single parents and circumstances and realities have put my sidelines kind of front row. Maybe even standing in the middle of the playing field on a regular basis.

On Saturday I actually had nothing until 5:00p.m. This is kind of a very unusual thing. And it was glorious. I cleaned in silence for part of the day. My Roomba was the only sound except for occasional stereo barking at a loud truck or car heading up the street. I paid some bills. Threw some stuff away, threw a couple things in a giveaway box. I was able to actually do some plotting on the book I'm supposed to be writing. Michelle is free to write after the 1st of the year after two years of constant contract fulfillment. I'm the foundation and stick builder of this second book. And it's August. Just a few months from now we need to be putting in pipes and wires, hanging drywall, and making that sucker turn-key. So Saturday was fabulous and needed.

At 5:00p.m. I took my almost two-year-old to my other mama bear's house and we loaded all those kids into her mini-bus aka 12 passenger van and we headed to church. Crying, whining, laughing, talking, music, a voice from the back shouting that all the seats were filled. We moved into the church like a hoard of locusts. The noise at least, no one was eating vegetation. That I'm aware of. When I am with them I constantly count heads. Sometimes forgetting that number six or seven is in my arms. It's a small church so we take up a full row even with seat sharing. I felt the eyes on us, there is no graceful way to enter a small sanctuary quietly with eight children, three of whom are under two.

Sunday was a small family reunion requiring food, both mamas and seven kiddos joined us. And Monday was a softball game for the ten-year-old. Wednesday, after another long day at work where I trained in yet another clinic, I babysat five while their mom and the oldest were available to answer questions for a foster care training class. Two hours. Two bottles, dinner for the eaters, two diapers, a three-year-old needing potty help, keeping beagles from begging/snatching food from waving fingers, crying, turf battles, a riding toy that kept hurting the rider tantrum, the "mine" whines, a lost tooth celebration. (Praise the Lord I didn't throw away the plastic bag I found when prepping the meal because said baggie that appeared to be empty actually contained the tooth!!!! Mercy!

I began this post on Monday. I've written on and off in my early mornings every day this week. My early mornings start around 5:00 a.m. Sometimes, like twice this week, I spent a little interaction time saying goodbye to my house dwelling daughter and boy-boy. Feed and potty the dogs, maybe get some marketing for Out of the Frying Pan done, get sucked into Buzzfeed or Facebook for a spell, do any financial transactions that are required. And realize it's time to hop into the shower and then get on with my day.

That all said. I'm so grateful for every one of these people and things. So grateful. But the tradeoff is the freedom I did have to chill and chat holding full conversations at a time, or write blog posts, or play music. I know I can still carve out times, like Saturday, where I can do this. Or that I could have some shifting and moving of life. Like the "Writing Thursdays" where I head to my daughter's house at the kiddos bedtime to help make that happen smoothly so that we can keep each other accountable to focus on writing and write for an hour or two. (This has happened successfully a few times.)

In the meantime, I will be content to get something posted in Dregs sometimes. And if that doesn't happen, I know that Blogger will wait for me. And I'll hope you will, too. If nothing else, there will be more activity someday. Because life and seasons are constantly changing. I do know, based on the rate of growth and change in the children in the past year, that one day, too soon, they won't be carrying plastic bags containing a tiny tooth to Grandma's so excited to show her that it finally fell out! Instead I might get a mumbled awkward teenager greeting and maybe a hug of thanks after handing over a gift at birthday or holiday gatherings. The unconditional love shown by a grandparent needs to stretch and twist and remain strong through those times when peers or media are more important than family in kids' lives.

While it is right here in front of me. Ripe for the picking and enjoying, I am embracing all that is grandma right now, because this is going to end up being my sweetest season.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ My Favorite Role


My grand babies are so exhilarating and exhausting and overwhelming and precious. I just can't even. Okay. I can and will. 
The nine-year-old spent two weeks with us while mom and younger siblings were away. The first picture...so sorry it's fuzzy...I snapped it on the low down so she didn't notice I was social media-ing it. We were asked to put on name tags for church on Sunday. As per usual I was gabbing away and asked her to make me one. This is my name tag. Heart exploding.   

The two little ones arrived last night. Apparently the five-year-old asked about me every day. And the seven-year-old almost every other day.  It was so good to see them and hug them. Little stinkers. Ha. The five-year-old was wanting me to spell everything for her. And so annoyed if the same letter appeared twice in a row.  
She asked what I wanted for dinner. I told her cake. She said something healthy first. So I gave her my menu and had to spell every word. Brussels Sprouts was nearly her undoing. "Another S?!?" I totally recommend you get yourself some grandkids if you haven't done so yet. Contented sigh.

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Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Ours

My daughter started her foster care journey exactly two years ago. For her first month she did respite care for a family of foster kids whose foster home had gotten damaged in a tornado. It was a great practice run with adorable kids. The night before their foster mom's home was ready for them to return my daughter got another call. 

Three little kids, ages 7 thru barely 3 were in need of a home for a few months. They had been in more than one foster care home. And there were behaviors, they warned. 

And we wondered what kind of behavior problems we adults might have if we had been removed and moved as many times as they had in a year. 

Something to think about. 

In the last two years my heart has broken and grieved. It has hoped and despaired. It has soared with feelings I just can't even put into words. 

Last Thursday, after 914 days in the foster care system, they were adopted into our family. 

I am so blessed. 

Tuesday, April 05, 2016

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Bright Fingerprints

My lil grand bean turned 5 last week. She's been with us for almost 2 years. I can't believe it. She was just barely 3 when she moved in with my daughter. And what a difference 2 years has made. This little "marching to the beat of a different drummer" kid is just so, so delightful. It tears my heart every time I think about what could have happened had she not ended up in my daughter's life. Not to single her out. I feel that way about all of them. But since it's her birthday and I'm bearing the marks of her love on my fingernails I thought I'd just share. Bean had a little girl birthday party on Saturday and she asked to paint my fingernails and toenails. And I let her. Yesterday she came over for dinner and said. "You still have your fingernails painted." with a big grin. I melted. I do that a lot since these kids entered my life. Yes, even though I discover things like the little turkeys can't be trusted with scissors and markers, I just love the heck out of them. 
 Several months ago. About ten in fact I wrote this. It was written with tears and prayers. Approximately one year later I am thrilled that the ink on the adoption papers will be dry soon and they will be ours forever. So those tears I shed, that deep, longing hope I poured out to God was answered in His yes that they could remain in the safety of our family. Thank you, God. 



"My four year old grand-baby is snuggled up against me snoring and drooling against my left breast. She smells like sunshine and soap. Heat is radiating because she's fighting one of those childhood viruses that are inevitable. She was feeling just fine an hour ago until the pain reliever wore off and her eyes got droopy and she climbed into my lap after her latest dose and fell fast asleep.

This is such a normal situation. But it is made poignant by a few things. One of those things is the innocent trust she has gifted me. At just two months beyond four, a mere 1,500 or so days, this baby has experienced life full of abandonment and selfish adults. Tomorrow a judge looks at black and white documentation and decides if it is time for the biological parents to lose their rights or whether to give them another three months to heap more emotionally painful interaction upon their innocent children. 

My heart is heavy with a mixed bag of emotion. Is it wrong for me to hope the parents will lose their rights when it feels like that is the only chance these little ones have in life? How can I, as a foster grandma, want a better life for these children than the woman who felt the movement of life nestled under her heart and who heard the first cry and saw the helplessness of her child? This child who sought my arms as a safe nest to rest in has captured my whole heart. How did she lose her mother's? 

The gift of this trust hurts. Because the price of loving and imprinting and believing is so very great. If a man or woman determines the parents deserve another chance she and her siblings will go back into a life that is nominal. Where nurturing is a fairy tale and self-suffiency is a matter of life or death."


Friday, January 10, 2014

Scribbles and Scrambles ~ Sweet Moment Totally Not Caught....


I went to a haircut party yesterday. Party might be a little strong. A friend of a friend is a hairdresser I wanted to try out. She didn't have convenient shop hours this week but she was doing a color on someone else at her apartment and said I could come on over. While driving and parking I passed a pretty bush full of red berries. 

And even better, full of fluffed up chickadees. I mean full. The fence was covered, the bush was covered and I was driving. 

So after my haircut I went back with my phone and I parked. The birds were still there...not all of them...but lots of them. And I rolled down my window. Uh. Not close enough. So I got out. And the birds flew away. Not all of them. But most of them. They landed close by, but still out of range. 

Finally, I took the picture and just let it be, before someone called the police on the weirdo lady taking pictures in their driveway. Every time I see this picture I'll be reminded of the scene I did see. Little birds socializing and enjoy God's provision. 

Also. I like my haircut. Just sayin....