In
two weeks we’ll celebrate our little Bug’s 2nd birthday! We’ve been talking it up to him…but he
totally doesn’t get it. We’ll go low key
whatever we do, but we wouldn’t dare miss a chance to celebrate the start of
the second year of the most expressive, most silly, most dancingest, snuggliest
Bug we’ve ever known. He’s our
maniac. And boy do we love him. This is the convo I had with his brother
yesterday regarding that celebration.
Well, sort of.
(driving
home from school)
Me:
Buddy, remember that time we saw that fox over there?
Buddy: The
box? Like for a bert-dee rezent?
Me: No,
Reese, a FOX- like that animal.
Buddy: Like a
animul rezent for Bug- for his bert dee?
Me: No, buddy.
Buddy: There
is a box over there? Like for Bug’s bert dee? Him have a animal
bert dee rezent?
Me:
Yeah, I was thinking
about going with a puppy theme for his cake and wrapping paper and stuff- there
just isn’t a whole lot else that he genuinely loves and gets excited over, you
know? You think puppies for his birthday is a good idea?
Buddy:
Mmm…yeah, I like dat…ooh, I know you should get Bug a FOX cake! And Fox rezents!
And give him a FOX bert dee!!!
Me:
The
other evening Grant arrived home from work and picking up the boys just at the
same time as I was arriving home from work.
Grant quietly, to the side let me know that Buddy had been put into time
out but the afternoon teacher wasn’t sure why he’d been put there. We decided to ask him about it but did so in
a very casual manner so as night to indict fear.
Us:
Buddy, did you get into trouble today?
Buddy:
Uh, huh.
Us:
Well, what happened?
Buddy:
I have to sit in time out.
Us:
Well, why did you have to sit in time
out?
Buddy:
Because I getted into trouble.
Us:
Okay…well what choice did you make that was sad?
Buddy:
I made a sad choice.
Us:
Right, we get that. What was the sad
choice that you made?
Buddy:
I got into trouble.
Us:
Why did you get into trouble?
Buddy:
Because I made a sad choice.
(conversation
dropped and Buddy runs off to play)
That evening following the most
inadvertently, Abbott and Costello-esque conversation I’d ever had in my life,
Grant and I stood in our bedroom, changing for bed, giggling and recounting the
discussion-worthy things the boys had done during the day. We revisited the conversation above and both
couldn’t help but laugh and roll our eyes a bit. I confessed that I lost interest in the point
of the conversation pretty early on because I was so enamored with the sweet
sounding voice trying desperately to comprehend what we were saying and give us
the answers he thought we wanted. Oh,
but his sweet baby voice! I will never
get to hear his infant cry or his first words, but goodness I treasure his
little boy voice.
I often share with friends that the
most difficult part of being a foster parent (for me) has got to be the number
of appointments and the amount of paperwork.
I can think of eight agencies with which the boys have appointments
and/or paperwork due on a regular basis.
Our schedules look ridiculous some weeks (and I’ve not begun to mention
the home visits or continued educational hours we parents are required to keep
up with in order to maintain our license).
It is taxing, but it’s worth it and my husband and I are both blessed to
have extremely understanding and patient employers who allow for all of the
running around we must do. We’d been
through this before, so it’s not exactly new- but what is new for me is the
need to assert myself on behalf of my sons.
Speaking up for them, arguing for them, getting facts straight from
other adults who interact with them- and it’s kind of amazing the mama bear
that has been awakened in me. I’m
learning about a new fierceness that I possess- and I’m kind of proud to know
just how fierce I am.
Fact: I would kill
for my sons.
Buddy prays before supper every
night. He is careful to thank God for
whomever is sitting at the table, for the food and end with “in yer Son name-
Aaayyy meh-yen.” When he finishes we
thank him, and now due to our compliments and the reminder we give him of what
he’s actually doing while praying, he says, “I good at talking to God.”
And we agree, Son, you really are.
* * *
In other news, we know little to
nothing more about the boys’ legal guardians.
We know one is incarcerated and it appears the other is not making
efforts to regain rights to parenthood It’s hard for me to imagine, and even harder
for me to remember to pray for people who have screwed up so badly. It’s a sad commentary on the state of my
heart, really. My God not only prayed
for me when I’d screwed up so badly, He DIED for me- and offers his grace and
forgiveness over and over and over again.
I’m a failure this time around at
extending grace to the kids’ mom and dad.
I’m working on it- even if I simply go through the motions of praying
for their healing, for their hearts, for them to know Jesus’ love for them- I
trust that God will change my callous heart.
My inclination is to think that if neither he or she is willing to fight
for these boys right now, then I will- with all that I have in me- and they can
remain just a name on a page for all I care.
Isn’t that terrible?! What is wrong with me?? I’ve noticed how different my attitude is
during this second placement. I’m not
sure why that is, but it needs to change.
Last night as G and I prayed together before bed, I prayed for the kids’
mom and dad for maybe…ehhh…the fifth time in over a month (I know! I’m terrible!) and it made me cry! It revealed to me the opportunity I’ve been
missing this last month to humble myself before our Living God and petition to
him on behalf of a man and a woman who must, without any doubt, feel absolutely
hopeless. I’ve got so much growing to
do. Lord please break my heart for all
the things that break your heart.
* * *
We are so, so, so in love. Enamored with these boys. They feel like they are ours. Sometimes we day dream together as Mom and
Dad about what they’ll be like. We
giggle at their innocence and watch in wonderment as they acquire new life
skills, words, concepts. We dream about giving them middle names one day that
are of our choosing- and giving them our last name. And we pray all the while that the Lord’s
will be done and our desires get out of the way. Oh goodness, we’re having fun- and we’re only
three months in. One week from today is
a fairly big court date. The phrase “court
date” brings about an uneasiness because of how suddenly things ended last
time, but this one evokes different emotions for different reasons. This court date will either give us a glimmer
of hope for what our like may look like one day, or it will help us to prepare
for a different type of future. The
likelihood of the former is greater, but one must always be prepared for
absolutely anything in this business.
No comments:
Post a Comment