Is This Thing On?

Oh, hello there. It’s a little bit dusty in here. But good to see you. I wasn’t sure I’d ever come back to this space, but I figured I couldn’t close out more than a decade of writing online with a post about Christmas cards.

Spring has come. This great rebirth and awakening when the earth comes back to life and you’re reminded that nothing lasts forever, not even winter.


Our kids are in this place where they’re either playing together sweetly or in a battle to the death. There have been real tears and sobs because Harry pretend ate Posey’s pretend tiny baby and because Posey won’t quit “freezing” Harry a la Queen Elsa. It’s both maddening and hilarious and some days I’m weak at the thought of changing things up or adding to the chaos.

But that’s exactly what we’re doing. We’re in the thick of foster care training, with the hopes of being licensed by early summer. The other night we spent 4.5 hours learning about SIDS and car seats. (It’s a wonder the human race has survived at all.)

I look around our house and wonder if we’re crazy to go back to the baby years. Our kids sleep through the night and we’re mostly done with diapers and they play with Legos and eat regular food.

Sometimes I forget that I used to go into an office every day; that I wasn’t at home with them. Our new life is now just so our all-consuming life that it feels like I was always a stay-at-home mom. We got to MOPS and classes at the community center and meet friends for lunch and there are days we don’t get out of our pajamas. Some days I am a walking, unshowered stereotype.

When I opened this browser window, it was with the fleeting wish that I’d get enough alone time to type something up. Of course that wish has now vanished. Posey abandoned the train track building and Lego designing in the living room to join me in the office. She went and got the stool from the bathroom so that she can reach the top of the desk. She’s standing beside me, coloring on printer paper with a highlighter. She is pretty much my constant companion. She’s developed this verbal habit where she clicks her tongue when she’s thinking of making a decision. It is adorable and it is exactly her birthmother.

I’ve read that adoption is a calling, and while I don’t completely disagree, I don’t entirely agree either. Aaron and I were not supernaturally equipped to be adoptive parent. We didn’t get some decree from on high. We’re not better at it because we were “called,” and it’s not easy on our hearts, minds, or spirits. I think adoption is the right choice for you if you want to be a parent. That’s it. Should you educate yourself about ethics and prepare yourself for unique challenges? Oh yes. But I kind of think it ends there. Don’t wait for a sign. Does your heart long to mother? There’s your sign.

Being a mom is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Some days I fantasize about running away; that’s just the truth. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere the little people don’t pretend to be kitty cats for days on end. Somewhere my house will stay clean for more than a few minutes. Hopefully somewhere with an ocean view. But then I remember the only thing that lasts is love. The only thing we can leave behind is love. The only thing that will last through generations is love. So we will keep going. We will remain open hearted and open doored. There is room in my home. There is room in my heart.