Tomorrow...

Tomorrow.

It's finally here.

Tomorrow I will see your face for the first time, from the same room. Tomorrow I will hold you. Tomorrow I will wipe your tears. Tomorrow...I will introduce myself. I'm Mama. I'm YOUR Mama. Tomorrow that becomes reality for us both, as our lives are changed forever.

And yet, tomorrow. Tomorrow you leave everything you've ever known. Someone you've likely never met will come to your door just after breakfast. Your foster mama will give you one last kiss. And I imagine she will cry herself as she watches you leave, as she watches you cry, unable to explain to you, to help you understand all that is happening--and that it is for your good. She will share in the pain of the beauty that is unfolding, unbeknownst to you. I imagine it will tear her heart in two. I can only pray that she finds solace in her work, in her love for you, in the time she had to be your mama, showing you the love you deserved when you needed it most. Every single photograph of the two of you echos her deep love for you. I pray that we are able to remind you often, and never let you forget, exactly how much she loved you, how she sacrificed for you.

I am a complete mess of emotions when I consider the morning. Oh how I wish you could understand how long I have prayed for this day, how I have longed to hold you all these years. I am utterly humbled at the mountains God Himself has moved to bring us to this day, to make our family whole. It leaves me speechless. I pray with every fiber of my being that one day you will see that, while He does not intend for families to be broken, He has chosen to use this story for the greater good, to use YOU to bring glory to His name...so that others might see Him more clearly. He has great plans for you, Little One. Your story is only beginning.

My heart is also breaking, knowing what you will go through very soon. I will have a front row seat to your grief. I will see every ounce of pain in your eyes and feel it like a knife in my soul with every sob that leaves your lips. It tears at my very being when I consider your fear, your confusion, your heartache. The sheer terror of being handed over to strangers who look and sound and smell nothing like you, who take you away from everything you've ever known...I cannot begin to fathom. It eats at me to consider what you must endure over the coming hours, days, weeks and months. You joining our family is truly bittersweet.

I am not new to this mom job, and yet in so many ways I feel so completely inadequate to fill this role in your life. There is so much I don't know, so much I will never know, so many questions that will forever go unanswered. And yet...I know the One who knows every single answer, the One who knows every detail of our future. I know that He will hold you and comfort you better than I ever could. I know that He will walk with us through every single difficult step that lies ahead. He has greater things in store for you. I know, because He loves you more than I ever could. And YOU are living proof that God answers prayer, not always in the way we ask, but in exactly the way, at exactly the time that we need it most.

Tomorrow, sweet girl, you are an orphan no more. I will spend every day of my life, from here on out, telling you just how loved, how cherished, how wanted you are. You are mine and I am yours. Tomorrow, forever and always.

~Mama

"I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him."

                                                                                               ~1 Samuel 1:27

Butterflies, Rainbows & Other Loads of Crap

So yeah, this post is more of me taking a load off and venting. Sorry about that. But not really. Sometimes you just need to let it out. For me, today is that day.

Today is her birthday. She's 3. That makes a total of 3 birthdays we've spent apart since we first laid eyes on her. I cannot begin to describe to you the level of utter suckage (I don't care if that's not a real word) that entails. And I fully realize that some of you probably think we are crazy (love you, but we don't care). Others just don't really understand--both the process and/or the desire we have to wait. To be honest, it's not really a DESIRE to wait. Trust me, this is NOT the path I would've chosen myself. I truly get that there are other children out there needing a family, other little girls on "the list" waiting to find their forever homes. There are perfectly beautiful, needy children...waiting. The depth of that fact is not lost on me...at all. It wrecks me to the core of my being that I simply cannot bring every one of them home. Ask my husband--he knows I would if we could. He thinks I'm nuts in that arena, by the way. So it is not for one nanosecond lost on me that while we wait on THIS one, another one waits to be matched as well. I realize we could choose to shorten our wait. But it's not where we feel led.

The best way I can explain it is actually to give you a perspective I can only imagine myself, because it's one I've never truly been in. But in my heart, I believe it will give you the best picture of why we wait. It's the image of a birth mom, preparing to give her child up for someone else to raise. Now please hear me out--I HAVE NEVER WALKED THAT PATH so I cannot say with certainty that I know for one minute how it feels. This is simply the only example I can IMAGINE feels close to what our wait is like. I do not want, in any way shape or form, to diminish the depth of pain those moms go through. I know my pain is no where near what they feel, but it's the only way I can imagine it myself.

You see, from the very moment I laid eyes on her, she was my daughter. And every day that passes, a piece of me lives a half a world away, my heart walking around outside my body. We get updates and pictures...images of someone else raising our daughter. Someone else gets her cuddles, someone else gets her kisses. Someone else watched her first steps, someone else heard her first words. Another woman holds her when she cries, and kisses her boo-boos when she's hurt. SOMEONE ELSE IS RAISING OUR DAUGHTER. And that sucks. Every single day that sucks. Usually I keep myself busy--I mean, hello, we have four other kids! So most days, I'm not bombarded with a wealth of emotions I don't know how to handle. Most days I'm not a hot mess. Most days, I'm not completely on the verge of an emotional breakdown at any given second. But on this, her birthday, I am.

And I know God is in control. And I know He sees my pain. And I know He has a plan. And I know and I know and I know. But let's be real. Faith isn't always easy. It isn't always butterflies and rainbows and all those other loads of crap. I KNOW all the right things. I KNOW all of the truth. And trust me, I don't doubt for one minute if God has my best interests at heart. But some days are still hard. Some days I don't wanna get out of bed. Some days I wanna scream and punch somebody in the face. Some days I wanna give her government a piece of my mind--swear words and all. Most days I just want--FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY--to get on freakin plane and go get our daughter.

For now we wait. We celebrate her life. We storm the gates of Heaven on our knees for our daughter. And we pray that someday, someday soon, we will celebrate together rather than apart...

That's where I am. Today.

If I Never Hold Her

I think the day or two following the list release are the hardest. It's the let-down after the anticipation, the utter crash after being hopeful. It's the questions, the longing, the struggle, the pain...

Last night I awoke at about 4am gasping for air, sobs wracking my body. But they were sobs of joy. I'd just received an email telling me we had it, we had her file, we were finally, officially, legitimately going to be a family...I was so completely overwhelmed with emotion that my body simply convulsed in sobs of joy.

But then I woke up. It wasn't real. It wasn't true. Everything wasn't alright. I was back in the middle of life as it actually is--in the middle of this roller coaster ride of an adoption, with seemingly no end in sight. So I tossed and turned and attempted to go back to sleep, eventually succumbing to my exhaustion.

I don't know how this all ends. I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel today. I can't give reassuring words of hope to my kids who continue to ask when their sister is coming home and what is taking so long. Today it feels as though I'm at the end of my rope, wrought with exhaustion, questions without answers, frustration, confusion and pain.

And yet I know...I know that if I never hold her, He still does. If I never come face to face with her in this life, He knows her name and His plan for her is great. If I never hear the name "Mama" uttered from her lips, He will not leave her orphaned...for He has a home for her, a family with a hole only she can fill. For He cares for her more than I could possibly imagine...and although I cannot see it now, His plan is perfect.

So I attempt to rest in the shadow of the Almighty, trusting Him with her, with us, with the future. I breathe in, breathe out, and keep going...

'But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.'                      --2 Cor. 12:9


I know His grace IS sufficient.

When We Hurt For Our Children

Parenting is hard. It's hard and sometimes ugly. You don't get an owner's manual when you have a child. There are no "do this and your kid will respond this way" instructions. Oh there are plenty of parent help books. And Lord knows you get oodles of advice from everyone around you--whether they have kids of their own or not. The problem is, children are not made from cookie cutters. They have thoughts, feelings, experiences, struggles that are unique to them. No one else has been exactly where they are. So you're on your own, essentially, trying to weed your way through all of the advice and the experience of others. You try a million different things for your given situation, hoping and praying that something, anything will stick. That somehow you'll come out on the other side a little wiser, with a child who's issue has been resolved, both of you no worse for the wear.

Our oldest is struggling. He has the normal 13 year old issues--kids at school picking on him, trying to figure out who he is, not a child yet not quite an adult, trying to fit in and stand out all at the same time, hormonal changes. And to top it all off, he's the oldest. So he's trying to navigate all of this while WE try to navigate all of this, for the first time, with our first born.

My heart hurts for him. He is such an amazing kid. He's kind, helpful, outgoing, creative, structured, precise, loving, and giving. He's an awesome big brother, most of the time. He has great ideas and a huge heart and I love him more than words can begin to describe. So my heart hurts for him when I see him going through the exact same things I did at 13. He can't see past the here and now. He can't fully understand that it's okay to be yourself and that it doesn't matter AT ALL what other people think or say. He doesn't yet have the self-confidence to stand on his own two feet against the world, even on the small scale of middle school. I can't fight this battle for him. We are no longer at a point where Mommy can rush in, scoop him up, kiss his boo-boos and make it all better.

So instead I get to love him, encourage him, be patient with him. Even as he lashes out in anger and frustration at me, his dad, his siblings--I have to extend grace, knowing that it comes from a deeper place, a hurting place. It comes from growing up.

I am so amazed at the young man he is becoming. He's so thoughtful, so willing to give of himself. He's incredibly smart and already stands taller than me. He's no longer a child, but he will always be my baby, the child who made me a mom for the first time. So I do all that I can do myself. Then I turn to the One who loves my son more than I could ever comprehend, the One who can help him, heal him and make him whole. My Jesus. And I trust Him to do the things I cannot do myself. I trust Him with my son.

I believe when we hurt for our children, we are, quite possibly, as close as we could be to understanding the love of God. We are His children, after all. He loves us so much more than we realize, He hurts so much deeper as He watches us struggle. He sees our pain, our doubts, our fears, our failure. Yet He allows us to learn, to grow, to become the men and women He created us to be through these experiences--all the while loving, guiding, encouraging us and being patient with us. He extends His grace, because He knows that our sinful nature thrives on the hurt found deep within us. And He patiently waits, comforting us in our struggles, until the day we turn to Him, trust Him, and allow Him to heal us and make us whole.

Just some food for thought.

At The Core

I am NOT a morning person. I'm not. Never have been. I am a late night person. I don't care what time I have to get up, I cherish the quiet time at the end of the day, after 9pm when all the kids are sleeping. I will read, catch up on TV shows, craft, WHATEVER I FEEL LIKE! It is bliss. It's my "me time". And I love it. At the core of who I am, I am not a morning person.

However, this morning my newly-teen-aged son asked if I'd get up and fix him breakfast before testing at school. Normally, my boys are fully capable of getting up and getting their own breakfast, and I sleep in a bit and get up with sister around 7:30. But I also don't feel comfortable with them using the stove without an adult present, so the idea of letting them make their own eggs while I got a bit more sleep was enough to make me set the alarm earlier.

I was up at 6:30 so that my oldest would have time for breakfast as his bus leaves just after 7am. Can I tell you something?? I got SO much done!! I made his breakfast and chatted with him til he left, then had time for my morning cup of coffee and a protein shake before the other boys got up. I made their breakfasts as well, got myself dressed and waited for sister to wake up. Once she had breakfast she was ready to get dressed for school. The little boys asked if I could take them to school rather than having them ride the bus because they didn't wanna wait in the rain. AND I OBLIGED!! Now, don't get me wrong here. I don't mind taking the boys to school. And I know this may not be some major feat for you regular moms out there, but for those of us who truly struggle to drag ourselves out of bed every morning?? Yeah, me doing all this without hesitation is HUGE, people. And to top it all off--sister wasn't late for school!!! This, I believe, was my crowning glory of the morning as we are usually late for preschool. Honestly, I'm usually late for, well, everything. LOL. It's not something I'm proud of, but it is reality, so I try to at least own it.

Well now that I've truly bored you with my not-so-spectacular, normal-day-for-everyone-else story, I will say this. I think I'm onto something. LOL. At least for me! You may not be able to understand if you are already a morning person, but for those of us that are not, as I said before, this is truly a struggle. I still don't like the idea, but with as much as I've gotten done today, I'd say it's worth another shot...or two.  ;)

Celebrating

Today is bittersweet. It's Mei Mei's birthday. You know, that one we shouldn't know about? Yeah, it's today. She's 1. Technically, it was last night (China time). I thought about her as I got ready for bed last night. I wonder if they're celebrating her over there.

I know she's in a foster home (HUGE blessing) with a few other children. That means she has a family-type setting rather than an orphanage setting. In so many orphanages over there, the beds are lined up side by side in large rooms, babies left in their cribs for hours on end--out of necessity, due to only a few workers being on hand at a time. Her being in a foster home means her attachment to us should be easier when the time comes. So that's a blessing!

It's hard not being able to celebrate with her, but we most definitely will be celebrating her here. Our kids are already head over heels in love with her. They've asked multiple times why we can't just fly over today and get her. :)  I'm so thankful that they are excited. It would be so easy in a family of 4 children to not be thrilled about adding another. We talked to our children at length before beginning this process...making sure they were all on board. From the beginning they were ecstatic! They weren't worried about sharing rooms or toys or time...they just wanted to know how soon we could get her. My kids are amazing. And I love how genuinely they love others.

Today is not only a day to celebrate Mei Mei, however. It's also a day to remember that this is the last birthday she will spend without her forever family. The day of her birth and her first birthday are a small price to pay to celebrate all of the others with her. I look forward to those birthdays, those milestones, and all the everyday days in between with her. In the meantime, we'll celebrate her here, on the other side of the globe.

Here's to turning 1, sweet girl. Mama's coming.

Peace

Last night we were forced to make one of the hardest decisions of our lives. As many of you know, we've praying and waiting for this little girl we came across by accident. We've been following her file and praying to hear soon that she is "paperwork ready" and that her file has graciously been assigned to our agency. The March "list" came out last night, and we received a referral. However, it was not the file we'd been hoping for, but one for a different little girl.

She met all of the criteria we'd asked for when applying to adopt. She was only 7 months older than the little girl we'd been praying over. She was located within an hour of the city where we will spend our entire 2nd week of our trip, which means our travel would've been considerably easier. And SHE. WAS. ADORABLE. A little girl, half a world away, needing a home, needing parents, needing someone to simply say "yes".

I cried. I believe I used the phrase "I think I'm gonna throw up" at least 4 times. I cried more. My husband even got teary-eyed (that doesn't happen people). It was heart-wrenching. It was raw. It was...horrible. We truly had no idea what to do. We were at a complete loss. We thought we were headed one direction and, in a moment, we were questioning everything we'd believed up until that point. It was by far the hardest decision of our lives. How do you contemplate two beautiful little girls, identical in need, and choose only ONE?

Once again, I found myself crying out to God, Jehovah-Shalom, to give me peace...to give US peace. We looked over every inch of her file, and her photos...oh God, the photos...did I mention she was adorable?? We talked about our gut feelings. I told my husband I was completely on the fence. On the one hand, I felt so strongly God had brought us through so much, answered so many specific prayers for the little girl who had already stolen our hearts. Did deciding on a little girl who was available now mean we didn't trust God to bring us any further, to deliver on what we had specifically prayed for? Was that taking the easy way out? Because, in so many ways, saying "yes" to this new little girl would be easier. On the other hand, was this God closing that door? Was this His "something better" that we'd told our children He would give us if He didn't give us the little one we'd been praying over? I was, as I said before, at a complete loss. Sitting smack dab on the fence with no clue what to do.

I asked what his thoughts were. He was very quiet. He admitted he didn't want to tell me. He said he was scared. He reminded me, for probably the 1 millionth time (true story), how he isn't drawn to other people's children. He's really not a kid-person. Ironic, I know, as we are going on FIVE kids. He loves our kids. He loves being a dad. In fact, one of his biggest fears about adopting was how he knew he felt about children who were not his own. He was afraid of bringing home a child that he might not see as his own. Although I am not built that way, I TOTALLY get that. I think that's the case for many people. We all love our own kids, but someone else's? Eh, take 'em or leave 'em, it's just not the same as the way you look at your own. So I get it. And I love the heart of my husband, who has such discernment that he does not want to deny a child the genuine love of a father.

Then he told me, from the moment he laid eyes on that first little girl, he knew he could love her as his own. He didn't understand it, how that could be (my husband, who is very logical, where everything-needs-to-make-sense and I-need-to-see-a-plan-before-deciding). For him to love a little girl in a picture as if she were his own was HUGE. It was simply from God, an answer to prayer, I believe. He also said it was not the same feeling when he looked at this new little girl. "Are we horrible for thinking about saying no?" he asked, as he voiced aloud our mutual concern. "Or is that just worrying more about what other people will think?"

In that moment, a complete peace washed over me. My doubts vanished. I was no longer on the fence. You see, what I haven't told (most of) you until now is that early on, when I was praying over this first little girl, I was scared. I have a tendency to jump in with both feet and ask questions later (I know, big surprise there). But with this, my heart being completely drawn to a simple image of this child, I knew I needed discernment. I needed something to show me that it wasn't just my wishful thinking falling in love with a child I'd found, but the leading of the Holy Spirit. For days I had searched my heart, trying to know what to pray, how to ask God to show me if I should be feeling the way I did. And in one moment, way back in December, I knew what to pray. I told God that if I was supposed to feel this way, if we were supposed to pursue this little girl, it needed to come from my husband. You see, faith is my spiritual gift. It comes naturally. It always has. I worry very little, almost never in fact. But my husband is very practical, very logical...he needs everything to make sense. So I left it at the feet of God and resolved not to say another word about this little girl. On the way home from celebrating Christmas at my parents house a few weeks later, as we were talking in the car, he said,

 "If I tell you something, do you promise not to freak out on me?"
 "Um, ok, what's up?" I said.
 And he sat there...contemplating whether or not to continue. "It just doesn't make sense."
"Huh?"
"It doesn't make sense"
"What doesn't?" I asked, thoroughly confused.
He remained silent, nearly driving me batty. Lol
"I shouldn't feel this way about a little girl I've never met."
BOOM. THANK YOU JESUS. I was smiling from ear to ear, naturally.
"I TOLD you not to freak out!!" he said when he saw my face.
"I'm not. But I have something to tell you." And I proceeded to share with him my previous conversation with God.

I share all that to say this: God knew what my heart needed then. And He knew what it needed last night. In the moment Sean shared his heart, I knew. God was leading me, once again, through the discerning heart of my unknowing husband. He and I both felt a love for that little girl for a reason. And for the same reason, we were not drawn to this second little girl. Maybe that sounds horrible to some of you. After all, she needs a home like every other orphan on the planet. But we serve a BIG God. And we believe He created a specific little girl for our family. One of them was our daughter. The other is someone else's. To say "yes" would be to keep her from the home she was created for.

So we wait. And pray. And we stand firm in our decision to fight for her, this specific little girl, until God Himself closes that door--or brings her home forever. Right now, it's still wide open. So we still wait...with a peace that TRULY passes all understanding.

All I Can Do

So much in my head. So much in my heart. So many things I wanna say and yet all of these words just seem to be jumbled up in my mind!

First, I should say that we did NOT receive a referral last night. While that is disappointing, it is not surprising. And we are still hopeful! Hopeful that we will receive the file of the specific girl we are praying for to be sent directly to our agency. It doesn't happen often, but it DOES happen! So we remain hopeful.

Second, I've said it before and I'll say it again, we are at peace over this whole process. We knew what we were getting into when we started this, and it's going pretty much exactly like we were told it would. If we underestimated anything, it would be the amount of love we already hold for a little girl we haven't even met yet. But other than that, in the beginning things are paperwork, paperwork, paperwork...now it's just hurry up and wait...and wait...and wait. The last two months we've been eligible to receive a referral. And on "list days" (when the list comes out), I'm a big ball of nervous, excited and anxious. And I can't focus for anything! LOL. And then the list is out, and there's no referral...and I'm a mixture of emotional, frustrated, more anxious, and impatient for the next month's list! It's quite the emotional roller coaster.

And yet...we are not worried. Our frustration, our anxiety, our impatience does not stem from concern if we are doing the right thing, if our daughter will be okay, if the waiting will ever end, if God is still in control...those are not things that even cross our minds. These are simply the emotions of parents waiting desperately to hold their daughter, knowing she is somewhere, half a world away, waiting for that forever love she so deserves...and there's nothing we can do about it. We can only wait...

Third, while I want the waiting to end, to have her here in my arms, there is no part of me that wants to miss the here and now.  Life is happening while we wait, and I want very much to remain a part of that. There are 4 other kids in this house who need me, who need us. They have school and friends and activities and love to share and I don't wanna miss one moment of my time with them. I want to help them, to hold them, to love them, and to share with them every part of this difficult journey to bring their little sister home.

So what do I do? I do what I can today. In this moment. I do all I can do for them, for her, for our family as it is and our family as it will be. I help with homework, I oversee chores, I make the meals, keep the house running, calm the arguing...all of the daily family life stuff. I'm also keeping regular contact with our agency for updates, I'm painting/preparing what will be the girls' shared room, I'm reading books and meeting with friends who've come back with their daughters so as to learn as much as possible. And soon I'll be going through Sissy's old clothes to set them out for Mei Mei, and creating a packing list for our trip. I do all of these things, because while I can't do anything from my end on the adoption front, I can certainly participate in life as it is while I prepare for our daughter's arrival. It's all I can do. And I'm loving every minute of it.

I also get to listen to my children's prayers for their little sister, to answer their questions about where she is, what life is like for her, why we can't bring her home now and what we'll do when we go get her.  I get to tell them about a little girl, half a world away, that was created just for our family.  And when I talk about the specific little girl we are praying over and I call her by name, I get to hear my daughter say, "We call her Mei Mei, Mom." To which I replied, "Well not til we know she's ours." And she looks at me with a smile on her face and says, "Well, I call her Mei Mei..." (then whispers) "...because I love her."

Oh my sweet girl, I love her too. I love her too...

I Wanna Be THAT Mom

I'll admit it. I do. I wanna be THAT mom. You know, the one who appears to have it all together? She volunteers 3 days a week at her kids' school(s). She makes it to the gym every morning AFTER rising early to read her bible, fix her family breakfast from scratch and get them off to school. She meets friends for lunch, after she delivers meals on wheels. Her home is always impeccably clean. Not to mention that she decorates like a pro. She even blogs in her spare time and inspires everyone with her words, her charm, her openness, her life in general. She's organized. She's ON TIME. She's the homeroom mom and puts on amazing holiday parties both for her kids' classes and for adults in her home. She's a great cook, a devoted wife, an amazing friend. Yep. I wanna be her. And sometimes, I beat myself up when I realize just how far from being her I really am. It's humbling. And depressing. And so absolutely FRUSTRATING!!!

But when I take a step back and allow Him to, God speaks to my heart. Quietly, reassuring me, loving me. And that's when the Truth hits me. That mom, she doesn't exist. She isn't real. Yes, there are moms who have it more together than others. There are moms that thrive on volunteering and do it well. There are moms who go from sun up to sun down, non-stop. And they wear themselves out. Sometimes, they get so busy doing that they forget to just BE, to just enjoy their families. They don't have it all together any more than you or I. Then an even bigger Truth hits me...

I don't have to have it all together. I don't have to be that mom. I have strengths that are mine alone. And I can use them to the best of my ability to be the best mom I can be. We all have strengths and weaknesses. We all struggle. We all fail. We all find ways to go on. We all have areas where we triumph. We are enough. I am enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH. There is no right or wrong here. There is no one mom who is better than another. We have all been called to OUR place, in OUR family, to do OUR best. Not another woman on the planet could come into our home and do our job as well as we can! It's what we were created for. It's where we thrive. Some days, we look like THAT mom to others. Some days, we watch other moms seemingly outshine us. It's an endless cycle, but it's just that, a cycle. We (speaking to myself here!) need to focus on where we are strong rather than where we are weak. We need to encourage that mom who's clearly struggling as her kid is screaming through the aisles at the supermarket. We need to smile. We need to laugh. We need to relax and simply enjoy the life we've been given and not sweat the small stuff! We need to take a moment, even if it's 5 minutes locked in our bathroom, LOL, to breathe, to give ourselves the grace found only in realizing that we are enough. We are THAT mom already. :)

Why Am I Always the Bad Guy?!

I'll admit it. I wanna be the good guy. I wanna be the one my kids think is cool, fun, ya know, big party in a little package...er, um, ok, NOT such a little package, but I'm working on that! ;) But I digress...

My husband, while he truly does know otherwise, likes to joke about how I must enjoy sitting at home watching soap operas (HELLO?! Most of them are off the air now!!--I mean, um, NO I don't watch soap operas!) and eating Bon Bons all day. Let me just say, I prefer the not-so-seasonal anymore Reese's holiday peanut butter egg-tree-pumpkin things to whatever Bon Bons are. Never had a Bon Bon! Again...I digress...

I am blessed to be a primarily stay at home mom. I love having the flexibility it gives me to run errands during the day, blog, have lunch dates, do stuff at the kids' schools, and then have the energy to be able to be the one who needs to be up at a moment's notice at night if one of them needs me. One of the things I DON'T like is being the primary rule enforcer. Don't get me wrong. My husband is THE most involved father I know and we make all of our decisions regarding our family together. He is completely hands on and I don't know what I'd do without him!! That being said, he also works an 8-5 job and is getting his Master's Degree, so he's gone a couple of evenings a week. So other than the weekends, I'm primarily the one interacting with the kids when it comes to chores, homework, etc. Most of that is done by the time he's home, so he gets play time. :)  I harbor no ill feelings about this at all because he works SO hard for our family. But that doesn't mean I enjoy it all either.

Take today for instance.  I had my Little Little come home early from school yesterday complaining of a tummy ache. The school called, I told them to give him some time to stick it out but they called again an hour later for me to pick him up. I hated to do it, but he sounded miserable. My typical rule is: puking, fever or diarrhea will keep you home or bring you home. Anything else, suck it up and you can rest when school is out. Now that may sound harsh, but I was the QUEEN of staying home from school "sick". My mother, bless her heart, is somewhat gullible and a LOT trusting. (Sorry Mom, it's true.) I could fake, quite well, nearly any illness I needed if I didn't feel like going to school. Seriously. I missed like 22 days my senior year!! I am not proud of this. I was at the time, but not now. Now that I'm a mom, I realize the importance of being in school when you are fully capable of being there. Don't get me wrong, I FULLY support taking your kids out of school once in a while to experience life. In fact, I think if your kid has perfect attendance it's sad. Really, I do. I was disappointed when my Little Little got the award for perfect attendance the first 9 weeks of school. I enjoy randomly pulling them out for a day to make a weekend trip to see family or go to the zoo because it's beautiful out or just have a day with Mom! If it ever affected their grades, I would rethink my position, but for now, this is where I stand. Wow! Again, I'm off topic. I apologize!

Anyway, Little Little has not puked, ran a fever or otherwise. But he is somewhat pale, just wants to rest and generally feels yucky. It's not serious enough to head to the Dr yet, but I can tell he's not feeling great. So I agreed to keep him home today, with the stipulation that if he's the same tomorrow or better, he's gonna tough it out at school.

Yesterday, after school, Big Little came home and went to lay down because he didn't feel well either. He took a nap! He never takes a nap!! But when he woke up, he felt somewhat better and was able to do his chores and eat supper. He wasn't 100% but he was better. So I sent him to school this morning. An hour later he called saying he wasn't well. Like his brother, I told him to give it some time and see how he did. He called back another hour later. Still felt like he just couldn't stay. So I gave in. Against my better judgment, I gave in. He came home and scarfed down a bowl of chicken noodle soup and crackers and an decent size glass of Sprite. His appetite alone tells me he's fine. AND IT MAKES ME SOOOOOO MAD!!! I gave him the benefit of the doubt and he used it. Little Little sipped his soup and nibbled his crackers. He's upstairs resting while Big Little is watching TV and playing hooky. How am I supposed to tell the difference between what seemed to be two kids with the same symptoms?! How do I give one the benefit of the doubt and not the other?!

Now I have to be the bad guy! Why am I always the bad guy?? This is one of the not-so-pleasant aspects of motherhood. If I worked outside the home, I may be harder to persuade since I would have to leave work for them to be home. Instead, I have no reason, other than my mom-opinion, to leave them at school. Hhhhhh. Why can't things be more cut and dry? It would make life a lot easier! And it would keep the Big Little from getting in so much trouble!

Thanks for listening to my rant! If you have any ideas to make this kind of situation easier, feel free to share!! I'm always up for sharing ideas with other parents!! And on a positive note, I will say I'm glad I'm dealing with a child faking illness rather than the actual full-blown plague that's going around!!