"Mom, I have too much wotion?"

 Our 8 year old foster son is obsessed with putting lotion on his body. I assume that C will follow suit, not only because he looks up to 8 year old G, but because his skin is getting a bit dry and ashy.

I just didn't realize that he couldn't put lotion on himself. I heard him say, "Mom, I have too much wotion?" 

Because sometimes life calls for a best friend

And real best friends, well, they tell you when you are wearing a hideous shirt. 

Go, Fire Up Chips. 

In which foster care is my spiritual act of worship

  Please hold the congrats. Apparently this is what people say when you tell them that you have foster 2 kids.
  And I don't get it.
  First of all, we did nothing to "get the kids." Jon and I simply said that we would be used by God in this way. In order for the kids to be with us, it means that they have faced some rough things at home. They have gone through and experienced things that they shouldn't have. Please don't congratulate me because a mother has made bad choices and it has caused her children to be removed from her home. 
  That is not exciting to me. It makes my heart sick and makes my soul long for the perfected world that Jesus will bring. It makes my heart so heavy that I can't not do anything about it.
   And what is exciting about explaining to an 8 year old that he has to move to another home, transfer schools, make new friends and may or may not go back home? When will that be? How do we help him?
   And please do not be excited or congratulate me when the boys go back home with mom. This has been the plan from the beginning. We know it and are planning on it. I am guarding my heart with a steel trapped door. I know that there will be tears. I know it will be hard. I know that in this season of life, I am going to have to cling to Jesus with all I have.
  And lets just say that the kids remain in our home forever. Still not a celebration. G will have a hard time mourning and transitioning. In order for the boys to stay, A LOT OF WRONG has to happen.
    Like...no suitable family members (lets not get excited that there is no family member that is able to keep the kids. This should break your heart.)
    Like....mom would have to have some pretty huge mistakes. Why would I wish that on someone?

  When we tell people about our foster care plans, I do not want the "congrats." I want people to see the God I worship. The God that  cares for injustice and cares for the orphans. The God who sustains me through sleepless nights, false accusations, discipline and ringworm.
   Being involved in foster care with how is how I worship God. It doesn't come easy, it's messy and hard, but when God says to "care for orphans", I believe that He really meant it. And so, I will obey.
   I will obey when it's hard, when I want to be selfish, when I want to give up, when there are tears, when I haven't had a conversation with my husband in days, when our house is infected with ringworm, when I feel like everyone is getting the worst of me, and when I am so alone. I will obey because God said to do it.
    Because in this season, caring for orphans is how I worship.

Did I mention ringworm? UGH!

The no good, terrible, bad, horrible day that I loved.

I was so proud of myself for being mom of the year. What 2 and half year old doesn't want to go see the REAL live Thomas? And not just see him, but get your picture taken with him? And if that wasn't enough, you could ACTUALLY ride the real Thomas. Someone pinch me, because this seems too good to be true. Mom of the year award coming up now.

We were gearing up for our Saturday morning Day Out with Thomas.

Until Friday night, when we were placed with newborn baby J. Friday night, I had about 30 minutes of sleep. I fell asleep at 6am. We were supposed to be out the door at 7:45. I woke up at 7:30a. We had nothing packed. We had baby J for less than 8 hours. We didn't know if we had enough diapers, formula, clothes etc. We literally threw tons of stuff in the car and ran out the door. Except you can'[t do that with a newborn. J started crying and needed to be fed. He ate till 8:15. Now we were late. Our train ride was at 10:30. It was a two hour drive, and you had to be there by 10. We might make it, if we sped.

And then we needed gas. Add 5 minutes to the trip. Can we make up five minutes? Maybe.

We call the ticket company and the park and get a hold of no one. I don't even know if it will be worth our time to make the drive. If we miss our 10 time, can we even get in?

And then..car sickness. If you know me, this is no surprise. I get very sick in cars, very quickly and very often. I will spare details. Because of this, we would be lucky if we got to the park at 11.

I was crying, I was feeling guilty, I was anxious.

My mom was driving to meet us. I was feeling so bad that she would have to make a 1 and half hour drive, just to turn around because we couldn't use our tickets.

I wanted to crawl in a hole  and cry. And sleep. And feel sorry for myself.

And then....we pulled into the park. We talked to the ticket counter, and they were SO GRACIOUS. That, or they were scared of my frantic tears and sob story. Either way, our tickets were moved and my boy LOVED meeting the Real Thomas.

With meema, waving at Thomas

This is the view from our car that we were riding in.

I never thought I would have such a good day meeting Thomas. The things that those kids do to a mom's heart. I loved seeing his face, and more so I love hearing him talk about that day now, a few weeks later. He loved it and had fun. That is all that matters.