No one's people

I keep seeing posts saying "check on your people". And I used to have people to check on. But what's become clear to me in these past few years is that because I don't adamantly claim any group, I'm neither Republican nor Democrat is that...I have no people left. I don't belong to anybody. And frankly, nobody cares how I'm doing as long as I'm not doing it where they have to see it, on social media. If I truly posted how I felt about anything it would weed people out fast. Not because I hate any one people group at all. Quite the opposite. I understand their pain and where they are coming from even if I have a differing opinion of where they are going. 

So what happens when everyone thinks they and only they are right? I don't know where to go with that. 

I don't know that I'm right...on a lot of things. So I stay quiet to let the chips land so I can see what's the truth and what was clickbait and what was a spin from the hearsayers of the first-handers. If you put 100 people in a room and they all experience the same thing, you'll still have 100 versions of what just happened. It's just who we are as humans. Does that mean 99 were wrong? No...it means 100 people translated the exact same experience from their viewpoints. 

So...I just keep to myself. I isolate further and deeper and spend more time quietly crying and wishing I could call that friend that hates me for my politics. Or at least...what they understand are my politics. But they don't really know because even though they've listened they haven't heard me for years. 

Us vs. Them

This week has completely broken me. 

It's not that I didn't see it coming...I just thought it would happen on Inauguration Day, January 20th, not electoral votes counting day.

And I keep thinking....why am I so heartbroken? I mean...BLM protests/riots happened. There was speculation as to who was the rabble-rouser but we'll never know the truth, will we? So...when it all happened at the capitol...why was I so disheartened?  I guess what surprised me most, was the hate speech I heard coming from the friends who had defended the BLM uprising with such fervor. And when I questioned how they could feel this way so flip flopping, so one-sided...I was met with white privilege and if the tables were turned or if they were a different color. I just, I guess, had hoped the speech would be kinder. I expect it out of an uncle who's been outspoken. Or from someone who isn't known for seeing the other side of an argument. But...gosh...from my most liberal of friends. From the ones who helped me see how to truly love people so vastly different from me. 

And it breaks my heart that "they" won. Who is They? The media? The Clintons? Is this the gay agenda I've been hearing about? I thought the gay agenda stopped at mandatory brunch and dog sweaters but....this....was this division it? I can't believe that it is. 

But when did we stop hearing each other. Truly hearing our friends? I hear the conservative side wanting spending held accountable. I hear the liberal side wanting rights. I hear the Republican side fervently against abortion and the Democratic side shouting back about taking care of those babies born. I hear you. I hear all of you. But what about those of us that fit in no box. That want the babies born and their mommas to afford formula? What about those of us that want those babies adopted by any couple, regardless of their gender. Someone with open yet empty arms crying out to take care of those babies but only one of those mommas gets to put her name on them. Those of us that believe that black lives matter and we need cops and we should have mental health counselors being called in right alongside the cops. I feel you that the cops should be "defunded" but what that really means is allocating those funds towards sheltering those that need it. We are all one crisis away from our last mental health thread breaking with a snap. Why are we all shouting the same thing and yet not hearing each other? 

So where do we go from here? How do we move forward? Well, I know one thing....it's not by shouting in each other's faces. It's not name-calling and berating. It's side by side. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr has been quoted this week with "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." Siiiiiiigh. Yaaaaasss, Dr. Yes!

I hear the church. Gosh. The divide in the church. And there's those still in the church clutching their pearls and questioning how anyone would be ok with babies being killed and those in the church knee-deep in homeless laundry and meal drives. There's those that have left the church and made politics their religion. And I hear you!! I hear your pain and your confusion and I hear that people have let you down. And the church is made up of people. And those people are who have let our country down to the point that we need these government-funded programs to take care fo the orphans and the widows and the young moms and those that don't have the mental health to break the addiction or to keep a job longer than one payday. I see how the government signed dependency right on that dotted line. I'm with you...but if we as the church had been doing our job, if we as the church had been loving the unlovable, if we as the church had listened to our hurting, our abused, our LGBTQ's....would we even be here arguing about budgets and rights? 

We have to do better. We can do better. And we don't have time to wait for our kids to do it for us. 

It's been a while

A lot has happened. Like...a lot.

We had a baby by birth. When #4 was 13 months old I realized I was pregnant. After 12 years of infertility, the most stubborn and determined sperm got through. He's amazing. All the kids are really.

Sweet Pea is now 11 and going into middle school. She's as even keel as the blue flames of hell.
Peanut is heading into 4th grade.
Both Babies (their collective nickname) are going into 2nd and they are hoping to be in the same class this coming year.
And Punkin Head will start kindergarten. In a button up shirt and tie of course. It will not match and he will not change it.

It's 2020 and we're in the middle of corona virus quarantines. I feel like updating the blog. I type better than I can handwrite and someday, I'm hoping, my kids will want to hear the stories of life in the middle of it.

This is hard. It's scary. We keep hearing about the second wave while grappling with all the rules of the first. It's not fun anymore. It's not puzzles and family time and new recipes because the store was out of _______.

It's being trapped with the same 7 people day in and day out. Shouting about picking up rooms and starting laundry and who's job was cleaning up the loft/living room...by the way who peed on the seat and left a turd unflushed. It's "if they have it at the store I'll get some."

On top of that, we're in the beginning of police reform. It's amazing and it's scary and it's justice and it's time and it's historic. And it's all so much. Hurt feelings and confusion and agreeing but coming from different sides. No one can say anything right.

I had to get off Facebook and as much as I love seeing what's going on with everyone I thought maybe I should try Instagram for a while. But then....I don't want to follow anyone. Well maybe twitter will be fun but then I can't find anyone. I'm an old dog trying to go through a self-help book on my own and I'm swimming in can't-do-it-rights.

Today was a really hard day. The kids are struggling with boredom. I'm struggling living in such a dusty mess all the time. I ask them for help with what, to me, feels like something so little but I forget that they can't reach the clothesline to get their clothes down or can't see all the hot wheels for the legos. It's all so much. I'm hoping tomorrows a better day because I've been trying to clean up one room for a solid 2 months now.

I started a little embroidery gig on the side. I enjoy it. It gives me an outlet to create. I make mostly memory things. When someone passes away I use their old clothes to make bears. Or I digitize their signature and embroidery that on top of a heart design. I love doing it. It's an emotional job but I'm not afraid of facing the dead. I get to spend a little time making something touching for those left behind.

Anyhow...I'll get back at more regular updates. I'll try not to wait 7 years before the next post. Who knows who still follows this but I'm mostly writing for my kids.

::awesome:: things people say to me when i admit we do foster/adopt

....AND the things i wish i had the guts to say back.

It's so nice you got them before they had any psychosocial issues.
>and what's your excuse?!? (expletives would follow but i'm working on my sailor's mouth.)

Do you know the donors? (Another favorite: real parents.)
1. Yes, I know the donors and the polite term is "birth parents" and we love them very much because they gave us what doctors couldn't. Don't be an idiot. Would I call your parents your donors? No.
2. And just like she's my real daughter and he's my real son, i am their real mom.

Are they all yours?
ok, first off, i get it. 4 is a lot of kids. but hey, 4 is the new black. and yes, i understand it's medically and physically impossible to give birth to babies 6 1/2 months apart. so when i tell you yes, they are all mine it's because whether their legal tag is foster or adopted or birthed YES, they are,in fact,ALL MINE ALL MINE ALL MINE! and when i tell you the babies are twins it's because in my mind they are irish twins and i'm hoping you'll stop with the poking and prodding of my personal family details. i don't ask you if your children were conceived missionary or doggie style so why don't we all just agree to not be too intrusive. mmmmkay?

What's wrong with their parents?
What's wrong with yours, dip shit? and again i go back to trying to work on my sailor's mouth but seriously, some of you deserve a slap up the face.
nothing is "wrong" with their birth parents. they all 4 happen to be great people. some might not be amazing productive citizens, i will leave that up to your own interpretations. but some of them happen to be really good people that have made the choice that they can not parent at this point in their lives. i don't fault them for that. i thank them for that. i wasn't ready to parent until i was 31.

When my polite answer doesn't calm their curiosity they follow with: No, I mean, why did you get them?
I have no dignifying answer to this and usually say "I really don't know." You should interpret this as "it's none of your business" because that's what I really mean.

Do they have any issues?
Yes, but luckily none as bad as yours.

Do you have to let them see their birth parents?
No. We chose to because in our instance it is appropriate and we have found, at least with karyssa, it helps ground her. She needs to know that her birth dad is doing ok. Wouldn't you wonder if you hadn't seen your parents in a while, no phone calls, no emails? She does too. It's important to her to know that he's ok and doing well. Asher, on the other hand, has no clue he's adopted. Some day he's gonna be so shocked. We explain to him all the time karyssa's birth dad is his birth dad, and karyssa's birth mom is his birth mom. at this point I think he's pretty sure Karyssa has some special uncle that we visit from time to time.

We'd adopt through foster care but we want a kid we can intellectually relate to.
You're right. No foster kid is that dumb. Jack ass.

Are you afraid they'll want to go back to their birth families when they grow up?
No, I'd be proud if they wanted contact when they are old enough to chose because it would mean that Paul and I, along with all of our kids' birth parents, were mature enough to handle that it truly does take a village to raise a child and somehow in this mess of a muck of a family we mashed together we did it.

Aren't you afraid their birth parents will want them back?
No...we're lucky that all of our birth parents respect us as parents to their children. Every single birth parent will always love their child as much as we do. We love that. We love that our kids all have amazing love coming to them from all kinds of places. I wouldn't want them to NOT "want" their child.


I just logged on after a few short years and found this post unpublished. Still my sentiments but my answers are firmer now. Must come with motherhood.