Tag Archives: Foster Parents

Stronger!


Islands.

We cannot be islands, but there are times when we need to be.

My son, Isaiah, or his real name Friday, has at many times needed in his mind to be just that.  He is the one third from the left, front row,  in the photo.

An Island.

Why?

Because too many people had failed him.  Let him down.

He felt abandoned.  Alone.  Unloved, Rejected. But strong.

You see through his trials, losing his mother, losing his father when he could not provide for him anymore, losing his first adoptive family because they were too young and made mistakes, being sent back, yes “back” to Africa, being in the “interior” a nice name for jungle and suffering to the point of death at a very young age.

Starving, not knowing how to catch fish with his bare hands, not knowing how to climb a coconut tree.  These were the issues a westernized, thirteen year old faced going back to the Interior, south of Monrovia,  Liberia.

Did it make him STRONG?  You bet.  There is a song out there called “Stronger” and the words pale into insignificance compared to my sweet boy’s journey.

Strong is now being applied in a different way.  A car crash.  Terrible.  No one even knows how he was alive when they found him.  Two hours after, and two rescue units to cut him out.  An ear cut off, a spleen damaged, three fractures of his spine, but the worst?  A life threatening head injury.  Trauma to his brain.  Swelling, fluid that causes life and death issues, not only with the brain, but with the lungs filling with fluid.

He IS a MIRACLE!!!

Dang, another one?

You see when you become part of my family, a miracle is expected.

I never doubted his recovery from first knowledge.  I just prayed.  I interceded in the heavenlys, I sent healing to him through prayers and intercession, holding a space for him to recover.  He has, and will have a full recovery.  Why, because my desire for this meets my belief it will happen.

Ok, sink that in.  When you believe as much as you desire, then God makes it happen.  I could tell you more miracles that have happened  because my dog determined belief plus desire made it happen.

That’s another blog.  But, my sweet boy, is going to be ok.  It will take time, but not the time they think, because once again, he is STRONG, and my belief/desire is STRONG!

I am in awe of the power of God, the healing powers, but also the gifts he gives of discernment to hear when his children are hurting and the gift of intercession.

The other miracle here is, there is not a mark on his face.  He has stitches for cuts on his left arm, and it was his left ear, all of course on the drivers side, but, not a mark on his sweet, beautiful face.  Not a stitch, nothing.  God is good all of the time.

Now, I am going to challenge you on something.  You see I don’t look at the negative, which means I walk in abundance.  This took me a while to discern, but I believe always in the healing, the restoration, never the opposite.

Thoughts for you to ponder on.  Don’t always go to the negative, always desire and believe.  All things are possible, everything is possible if you BELIEVE!


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When You Think You Can’t Handle Anymore


So you get this child.

A twin…… so two children.

You know they are at risk……birth mom is an addict.

Oh, and then birth mom is epileptic.

Then another set of twins, same birth mom.

Different issues, but same, almost, DNA

All four diagnosed CP (Cerebral Palsy.)

All four in intensive therapies five days a week.

Two have “seizures” which look entirely different.

Nothing shows up.  Two go on without any “evidence”.

But, that’s not the truth.  The silent brain disease is there.

But there are “ticks” or so I am told.

No-one is thinking epilepsy.  No one.

So the years go by and all is ok, or so you think.  A few hiccups.

BUT, THEY, the medical profession, SAY IT’S OK

Fast forward, to teenage years.

One, goes down, two go down, and a third? Out of four.

Epilepsy.

So what now?

Tests, EEG’s, MRI’s, worry, panic?  No.  I will not do that.

You see, these younger four children, two sets of twins, who came from the same birth Mom, (Mum Aussie), are amazing, have conquered so much and blew all diagnosis’ out of the park.

Well on a trip recently to one of our favorite places to visit, a third had a grand mal seizure, while asleep, in the back of our vehicle, which is an airport shuttle.

One, I haven’t had any of them have a seizure while asleep, and two she wasn’t on the list to be epileptic, and three, where and what is causing this?

All of my years of handling seizures went out of the window.  I thought something else, something much more serious.  A cat scan ruled that out, and an EEG confirmed multi epilepsy.

Well, I could be freaked out, but I am glad I know my enemy.  I am thanking God it was not a tumor or something worse.  It is a different form from her twin, and different from her younger sister, but the same genetics.

The fourth?  Yup.  He has an EEG scheduled because he has developed intermittent “tics” which look like his younger sister who has multi focal epilepsy, that means in all parts of her brain, but does not have what we think is a seizure until all those parts fire off at the same time.

I will be relieved, pleased, estactic in fact, if it is only indeed a “tick.”  But, my gut says get it checked out.  I am not up for anymore surprises.  No more seizures in the back of our “bus” and no more traumas to child and family.

So, do I regret buying into this by fostering and adopting these four amazing children?  Never.  Not a moment.  Not a second.  Not a diagnosis, not a reality, not a fearful moment, nothing, no nothing, separates me from my children.

You see, while I did not know I could handle this, God did.  He knew he could trust me to put them first, even if I didn’t.  I’ve never trusted myself, but somehow, God did.  And, I am so glad He did.

If you have ever thought about this journey, as a foster/adoptive parent, you probably will not have the same issues, complicated, and needing issues that we did, because God will call you, and give you the children that are meant for you.

There are few that are called to the mission field, and even fewer that are called to do the mission.  This is a mission field, one that God asked us to in James 1.27.  You, and everyone are called to that mission field, but are you called to do, “DO” the mission.

Only you know.

If this has touched your heart, is calling on your heart and soul, please sign up on my email and contact me. I would love to help you on your journey to find which child, or children, belong in YOUR home.

Kate's Quotes I am not a perfect person

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Are We All Islands?

Just like you I’ve lived the events of the last week.

Shocking!

Terrifying!

From all sides of this, black, yellow, brown, white, the rainbow OK?

I would like to ask the controversial question, are we a whole or are we islands?

You see, I understand Islands.  I lived in one for forty years.  Australia.

An island that looks really small on the map, but is the same size as mainland USA.

What I learned from living on an Island.

You pay a heck of a lot more for everything.  It has to be imported from a long way a way.

You open your borders somewhat foolishly because you cannot populate your country with the amount of people you have.

Then, you look around and suddenly your island is populated with people you are outnumbered by.

So you start to change the rules you began with.

It can go on and on, but we cannot be just an Islands (of people) anywhere.

As a foster/adoptive parent I know that being an “island” doesn’t work.  It doesn’t benefit anyone.  The parent or the child.

I think it works the same with what is happening in our world.

We are all frightened by something, and then become an island.

Islands are not protected well.  I have had children come into my care that have become their own “Island.”   They are angry, aggressive, confused, and do not want to listen to what is common sense.  They take a while to understand that while they were abused by some terrible people, those people were few, compared to many that wanted to love them, nuture them and become their families.

As an experienced foster/adoptive mum, I have knowledge of, been part of, and helped so many children who really thought that everyone in their existence was against them.  They acted out, sometimes dangerously, emotionally, and extremely stubbornly to just be heard.

I wonder if there were more trained, knowledgeable parents to foster some of our children, would so many end up in prisons, in a life of drugs, confused, and angry at society.

Did you know that as high as 98% of children who stay in foster care until released at the ripe old age of 18, end up in trouble?

Why do we want to be an island?  Does it feel safer?  Do we fear judgment from others that look different?  I don’t have the answers, but there has to be one, because the Island Of Race, or The Island Of Self,  Or the Island of country is not working.

I watched, briefly, because I really think some talk shows are just talking about themselves, a show that was making a big deal, like a first world problem, into like a major, we have to fix it now, issue.

Over food preferences in college?

What is that?

Maybe they should think past their own interests and understand how many children in this country do without food, let alone food of their “preference.”

If you are not aware, then I will put this in perspective.  Around the corner, yes, just down the road from you, like now, are kids without food.  School is out you see.  Their one meal a day is gone.  Free Lunch.

So, while we are getting on our soap boxes about this and that, and complaining about our freedoms, our children, most of them minority race, but of all colors, races, American kids folks, are going hungry, while we spend our time and money on personal interests.

We are mostly a privileged society, we have freedoms of speech etc, and use it often, like now when there is turmoil and strife.  But we are adults and have a right to that, our children don’t.  They are silenced, they are lost, lost in a world that has too much else to do.

In these times when we are focused on all sorts of terrible things, which are not right, which shouldn’t happen, can we also understand that the more we focus there, the less we focus on our children who are being left behind, being abused, not educated, left alone with not many people who are either interested or are ignorant of the growing numbers of these “lost” children in our country.

Stand up, not only for what you think are your personal issues, but STAND UP for our kids who have no-one to care for them.  The “lost” ones.  Lost in our systems, lost in our “project societies” lost in poverty in our suburbs, lost in hunger in other parts of the world, lost in orphanages, lost in a motel room surrounded by a sea of dirty diapers.  That’s where my first set of twins came from.  It’s real folks, let’s wake up.

Let’s stand up and cross the seas, eliminate the islands, become one, and whole.

I am not making this up, wish I was, but kids are going hungry that live down the road from you, while you are ordering “To Go.” Click on “to go” to hear the song I wrote that is relevant.

Kate clouds

DON’T KEEP YOUR HEAD IN THE CLOUDS FOLKS!

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How Often Do You Dream?

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I have been told from a very young age that my head is in the clouds.

I dream too much.

I want too much.

I expect too much.

I AM TOO MUCH!!!!!

I will tell you that yup I do all of that.  I dream, I want, I expect, and I don’t doubt any of it is coming to me, because, why?

WHY?

For most people, including some of my close family and friends, I am too much, I do dream too much, I do want too much and I do expect too much.  Because, I’ve not only earned it, but I’ve dreamed it and expected it to happen.  And can I tell you it DID!  I believed.

From the beginning of my foster/adoption journey I have never, no NEVER, believed the bad report.  I have always not doubted, but expected it all to be as it should.  A healthy, functioning child.  Even when I was looking at a child that should, had, and indeed could live this bad report.  I_just_never_believed_in_the_bad_report.

Some say I was just lucky.  My bad prognosis kids all turned out to be functioning.  Luck is not an option.  Belief and prayer is.  Not giving up is.  Giving up my wants was a big part.  Paying attention, giving my time, being dedicated to their outcome?  Yup that was part of it.  Prayer?  Yup about ninety percent.  Luck, about zero percent.  Belief, oh yeah, like two hundred percent.  If you cannot believe, how can you do any of the other stuff?

Ok, now lets put this into some of your real lives.  Do you believe in what you are called to do?  Do you believe that your dreams really do come true?  Do you believe that you are the one person who can make all of this happen?  If you do, and it doesn’t then come back to your mind and your thoughts, then somewhere there in your mind is a dis-connect.  Between the belief and the non-belief

I am here to tell you if you dwell in the dis-belief, or non-belief that is what you are going to get.  When you stay down in the negative stuff which is really relevant to fostering, then you will attract that stuff.  It will consume you.  You will stop thinking about your child, and being an advocate for that needing little one, and go on a merry go round of fighting, and negativity.  Don’t DO this.  There is a better way.

Focus.  Keep your head in the clouds!!  The clouds are a representation of Heaven in our minds.  When we look up and see them we think of Heaven.  So, keep your head there.  Don’t let thoughts rule you.  Dream big dreams for your kids, both foster, adopted and biological.  Never give up, fight back, and most of all?

DREAM!!

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New territories….exciting possibilities!

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I am passionate about what I call the “Lost Children”.

These are the children that are lost in “systems”, drugs, and abuse.

When do we step up?

There is a remnant that do.

I’ve met some of you.

You are as passionate as I am.

But how do we spread the awareness of this “lost world” of children?

Well, that is what I have pondered, wondered, and explored how I could change, or implement change, about awareness of the orphans.

As little as the middle of the last century, when I was born, there were no orphans, no “lost” children, because the church took  care of these kids whose parents were gone, in jail, died etc.

We have supposedly evolved from some seventy years ago, but did we?  Because now these children who have been neglected, abandoned, abused, deserted have transitioned out of the church’s responsibility to the state and federal governments job.

This is not what I know my teaching tells me.  I’m stepping out here.  James 1.27 in the bible.  We are responsible.  We have been commissioned to take care of the orphans and the widows.

But, even the church has changed. So much so, that I believe the awareness of how many children are in need of foster care, is limited at best. We have our interests, our groups, our lots of things, but what we are not aware of is, these children have nothing, no one, no place to go.

In my state our foster children have gone from 6,500 to 13,000 in four years.  There are not enough foster parents, not enough awareness, not enough homes, not enough people interested in our next generation.

I understand.  I have given forty-four years to parenting, waiting in my mind for “my” turn.  But my turn already happened, I just didn’t understand what my turn meant, or what it was.

I thought it was about myself, but it wasn’t.  It was about what was on God’s heart, the children.  The “lost” children.  I heard the call, but, never understood the meaning of it, just thought it was a passing phase.

But, it was God’s heart.

It took me all this time to understand that.

So, although I cannot take more children at this time, I can support and make others aware.  That is my intention.  In every part of my life.

As time goes by, I will tell you more, but I am excited, afraid, anticipating, and wondering how this decision will affect my life, and my new found career as a life coach.

But, my heart, my soul is for the children, the “Lost Children”.

Where are you?  What are your thoughts?  I would love to know.

Here is a link to my songs about adoption.

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What IF?

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What if?

What if there was peace in the world?

What if you never know what you are here to do?

What if you had been born to a different mother?

What if you didn’t struggle with day to day stuff?

What if it was all perfect?

What if the grass really was greener on the other side of the hill?

What if you could leave your story behind………………….?

You know, the one that you can’t get past, the one that makes you feel guilty.

What if there was more love?

What if there were no orphans?

What if the homeless, and lost children were taken care of?

What if there were more foster parents?

What if all the children who were hungry got fed?

What if there were more arms to love them?

What if there were more resources to feed them?

What if we thought about others more than ourselves?

What if wishes turned into reality?

What if reality was taking a child into your home?

What if you had a message or a testimony to tell that child?

What if you had a love inside you that was bigger than yourself?

What if you shared that?

What if it became a seed?

What if that seed grew and became multiple seeds of love?

What if those seeds of love burst through every condemnation?

What if those seeds broke the walls down?

What if love, the truth, became the way of the world?

What if it starts with you?

What if it starts with one act of love?

What if that act is being a foster parent?

What if that child you take in becomes a hope for others?

What if you have a calling you can’t quite hear?

What if you are listening, but don’t believe what you hear?

What if the call in your heart is to give hope?

Then you can count on knowing that all the “what if’s” are just that.  Because anything that is birthed in our hearts are a sense of knowing, not a what if?

Last one.

What if we all worked together for good and there were no orphans?

God is always working, we just need to listen.

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The Joys Of Teenagers or The Monster In The Drain

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As a mother of twelve, four grown with families, and eight at home, I am constantly alarmed at what six teenagers can do to their rooms.  The two twin twenty year olds are a whole other scenario.

Lets start in the basement.  Four girls, two nearly eighteen with their own rooms, and two (twin) nearly sixteen year olds in a shared room.

One bathroom.   Disaster.  Could call the Health Department.

I do check this, please note that.  But, I do other things in my life.  Mothers have lives too, so they cannot always collect all the washing, or clean up every mess in the lives of eight between the ages of thirteen and twenty.

Well last week, I had a cushy life.  It was spring break and I took the five, somewhat easiest, to the beach.  The youngest four were obviously the messiest, and the least to clean up.  Note to self that this should change.

I was assured in my absence, that the bathrooms were wonderful, the washing was done, the house was immaculate .

They lied.

After I got through the twenty odd loads of washing from home, not the beach -I did that before I left- I ventured down to look at rooms and said bathroom.

The drains were blocked.  In a week????  So I got the plunger from behind the disgusting toilet, covered in long hair, dust and stuff I won’t name here, and I plunged that sink.

CRAP!!!  Up from the bowels of the sink drain came this rather large, almost huge, scary, creepy many legged creature!  It flew out as I plunged and almost hit me!  I dived, flayed the plunger at that sucker and got it back in the sink.  My heart was racing!

I kept my cool.  I’ve watched those scary movies.  Heck I played the scary role in a film about to be famous.  I breathed in, pushed that hundred legged wormy creature back down the drain and drowned it.

The water was still not going down the drain.  I closed my eyes and plunged.  The monster was back in the drain, or the lock, or the sea that belongs at the end of the drain.

Can I say I am dramatic?  Yes, I am an actress.  A real one, with an agent.

I got myself together.  I retreated almost hearing the Bach’s Tocattta and Fuge in Dm.

Then in trepidation I approached the top floor.  The home of the twin twenty year olds.

Words fail me.  They have real creatures.  Like lizards, and flying things in cages.  The rats (pets) have gone because of my begging, but, any live creatures are smelly at the least.

Then there are their wet towels from the hot tub. Yes we live on what some would call a resort with hot tubs and heated pools.  Underneath monster cans, snack packets, gym bags, pistachio shells, crap from the two flying foxes (Australian), and the cage, which is double storied,  I find a pile of smelly clothes.  I think they have lost these.  They have become part of a lost Kingdom.  Underneath that, are coat hangers!  Oh the cry of my heart.  Do you understand how many coat hangers you need with eight kids??????????

Millions.  That’s all I’ve got to say about that.  It’s like a box of chocolates.

I could barely find their beds.  At least they had sheets on them, but the blankets and comforters were hanging in all the other mess.

Quite frankly I couldn’t walk through any of it, let alone know where to start.

This took a week to make.

Of me not being here.  I cleaned before I went.

Me not cracking the “whip” so to speak.

Speaking in a nice, kind Mrs Doubtfire voice that tells them to clean it up dears, is just an illusion.  I scream like a rabid animal caught in a trap because they ignore me, through the nice request.  Then they have the audacity to ask “Why is Mum so crazy?”

Oh I wish.  But.  And this is a BIG BUT!

If you are called, or find yourself in a large family, then this crap happens.  I am a little OCD or CDO as I prefer.  If you want to keep peace, some of this has to go by the wayside.

If you want to be something other than a Nazi cleaner, and a mother who yells about the mess, then you have to let some things slide.

Not to chaos, but to living.  Sometimes things get away.  Not the end of the earth here.  Sometimes, as a mum you get overwhelmed, but it’s not the end of the world either.

Learn to be flexible.  Learn to understand the laughter along with the endless mess, washing, animals, huge family gatherings which leave another mess, but leave a lot of memories.

Today, I made some really funny memories that I will tell my children’s children and everyone will laugh.

It’s called family.  In my case, blended, beautiful, big family.

Lessons learned.  While I have this many kids at home there will always be some, or major mess.

It is my job to teach them to clean it up.  Even if I am tearing my hair out.  Because if I do it, I am not teaching them.

Now, to chill out, after the 20 loads of washing.

Join my email for more fun and adventures in the blended family.

WILL BLOOM

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So… Why are we parenting differently from a Galaxy far far away?

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So, we are coming home from the beach today.

Need to set alarms early, like, 6a.m. cause I got five kids with me.

Sheets off all beds, towels in the wash, all bags packed as well as food.

Breakfast………….mmmmm………… different story.

Two get up.  GREAT!  Three are dragging.  One has personal stuff.

Make-up, hair, appearance.

Two (twins) who are the youngest think they are exempt.

Phones are really important.  Like what are their friends doing?

Like in my grandkids, also coming home from the beach.

Finally out the door, made it in just over an hour.  Record time.

Anyone with large families will get this.  Two, one, easy peasy.

Then, oh then.

I get the over usage of data message.  I try to say nicely, NO FACETIME!!  Of course using my nice voice doesn’t work, but on the second over usage of data, I guess I elevated my tone to make it work!

Bored!  All bored.  They all have cell phones, a flat screen TV with video and a large bag full of videos to watch.  They have pillows, reclining leather seats (we drive an airport shuttle with all the bells and whistles) and they are still thinking “BORING!”

About that time I thought I should tell a small story, but one that was a  wee bit telling about the age we live in.

I reminisced.  You see when I was a kid, up until I was about ten or so, and I do know I am dating myself here.  We didn’t have a TV, there were no cell phones, no internet (90’s I believe), and no I Tunes, FaceTime you got it etc.

When I was going and coming from holidays it was like this.  We all got up around 3 a.m.  Dad read the paper, delivered to our door, Mum started the packing.  There were no fast food restaurants, and buying food in any form was pretty rare.  She had to prepare for our holiday at a remote spot on the beach understanding we were going for three weeks.

Food for a family of five (sometimes six because our grandma would come), clothes for all of us, games we could play, fishing rods, hats, flip flops (we called them thongs, and yes I know), warm and cold extras because it was Fall, or Autumn as we called it.

And, my daddy loved to go out on the boat fishing, so extra stuff for him.

I wish I could remember if he took his banjo-mandolin with him.

Then the journey. Yup, what a trek.  Gosh, well, we got up at 3.am. but Dad had to read the newspaper.  Very frustrating for Mum, who made his cup of tea, toast and eggs, and had all of the other packing to do.  Boy do I relate.

We had an old green van.  A “Comma”.  It was almost like a seven seater these days, but wasn’t.  It had two benches which wasn’t enough so we had a couple of extra back seats.  No seatbelts at all.  I’m not even sure that were not two front seats and a bench.  I was really young, but did remember that old green van.

The roads were not that great in 1957 plus, and many bridges were not built at that time.  To get to our holiday destination (which was also mine for some forty years plus after that) we drove 200 miles at around 45 miles an hour, crossed three rivers by driving on a ferry, and and it took us about 12 hours to get to our destination.

It was worth it.  We played “I Spy”, and all other sorts of games.  We asked “how long until we get there” more often than my parents could have stood, but we did get there.  And, we made lots of memories.  Without phones, TV, FaceTime, Face Book, The Internet and constant communication.

Was it worth it?

Oh yes.  You see I took my own kids there for multiple holidays before I moved here.  They made memories they will never forget.  I have taken this blended  family to this very place, across the many miles, to Australia.  They have not forgotten.

So, why are we giving in to phones, Face Time, Face Book, Snap Chat, Instagram and many of the apps out there that are affecting the innocence of our children.  Why are we becoming subservient to our children’s needs for what?  Just putting this out there.

Maybe parenting has become old fashioned and if it has, then maybe that is why we have a lot of “Lost Children” in our foster systems, our  adoption rolls, and our international issue of children without parents.

And I do know a lot of  those children are not the products of electronics, they are the products of hunger, alcohol, drugs, war, neglect and ignorance.

I encourage you.  TV, phones, electronic instruments are not the answer.  Sometimes, a good old fashioned game, or just a family dinner around the table has the answer.

For the “Lost Children”?  We are their answer.  They do not have a voice.  They feel invisible.  Those children are on our streets, around the corner, in foster homes, in the “projects” and overseas in orphanages.  Orphanages that do not love or hold these children, places in Africa where children roam the streets hungry, alone and uncared for.  And the numbers are growing.

All I ask, is this.  Pray as a family, eat as a family, laugh as a family and play as a family.  Other than that, pray for those  Lost Children who do not have a family or anyone who prays for them.

If you would like more of this, please join my email list.  I am about to give out amazing interviews from Parents who thought they could not ever find a forever child and much more information for your journey into the foster/adoption world.

Also, I am about to record my new song “I Feel Invisible” which I am giving away to those on my email list.

Keep tuning in!

 

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Interactions Of The Blended Family

 

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I am at the beach with five of my “heart” birthed children.

It’s quite amazing, or funny whichever way you want to look at it, as to how the different personalities interact.

Then add in the conversations, and visits from the “womb” children.

Makes it tricky for a mum of twelve to get some personal space, but I  have, even with managing to do a lot of work, and spend a heaps of time on the beach with the growing younger kids.

I managed to walk each day with my soon to be college kid.  She is the one who can be slightly overshadowed as she is almost the same age as her sister, who requires a lot of time and attention.

She can appear to be quiet, but is very strong minded.  A good thing, I think, but, between her and my young man who is with me, their strong wills took them in a direction they didn’t plan on last night.

As the eldest of the group, college kid wants to be in charge, as in under me (maybe), and my young man, well, he’s the man of the house this week.  Then, add in his similarly minded twin sister, and you have a recipe for a difference of opinion.

Such opinions became vocal last night as we were all ready to go out to dinner.  We had, or at least I thought we had, decided to walk up the beach to a restaurant that they had been waiting to go to.  The sun was setting, it was very pretty, and, quite frankly, I would have got the rest of my steps for the day.  Not that I’m counting.

But then, young man had lost his flip flops.  They were no-where to be found (no surprise here) and he had to wear his precious grey and white special Nike shoes.  He was not walking on the sand.  Those suckers get cleaned every day.  He was not getting them wet.  Not his Nike’s.  He was walking up the road.

The door closes and everyone begins the straggle to the elevator which is almost outside our condo.  And, the voices begin to raise.

You can guess what it was about?  The Nike’s were not going on the sand.  The others wanted to walk the beach.  Their little opinions were echoing down the balcony that runs along the condo’s.

Three took off in the elevator, and two stayed with me.  The Nike man of course because his shoes were not getting sand on them.

Well, I have learned sometimes we all have to learn lessons, including college kid.

Lesson learned.  I came back inside, rather quietly for me, explained that we were not going out arguing, and began to prepare dinner at home.

Shocked faces and phone calls flying back and forth from the three now waiting at the restaurant.

But MUM?????  Yes?  We are eating in.

Noooooooooooooooo!  I was expecting a heated exchange of who was to blame, but I announced that if they chose to argue, we would not be going to restaurants for the rest of our time here.

I cooked a variety of things I had left from our week at the beach and we all sat down and watched something called “Face Off”.  My education was now enhanced by a new TV program, and we all stopped expressing loud opinions.

The night finished joyously by the younger four hanging out in the hot tub, all friends again, and college kid and I binge watching “Face Off”.

Keep tuned for more adventures.

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The Dynamics of The Blended Family

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We are a multi level blended family.  Me, two kids, marries Amazing Hubbie, no kids.  I have two, then we make another two,  making four, then adopt eight.  Multi layers.

All are different with some similar.  That makes no sense, but makes sense to a certain degree because we do have sibling groups,  Including three sets of twins.

It is quite disarming, or cute, to find that my first two kids, by another father, are very similar to the second two biological by Amazing Hubbie.

Two boys, two girls, one of each by both, and similarities in one boy, one girl and yet another set of one boy, one girl.

Ok, I now have totally confused you.  So simply.  One of each from my first marriage, match one of each from my second.  Puzzling, except I have these very dominant genes that show up everywhere.

Then add another eight. Three boys and five girls, totaling  seven girls and five boys overall.  I am continually freaked out about the similarities in behaviors and personalities of the birthed from my womb and birthed from my heart.  Cause, you see, there is no difference.

It comes down to how we raise them.  What values we put in their minds and how we treat them.  You see for me, they all were equal, no difference in either birthed from heart vs womb.

They do have their own differences, which are inherent to their own personalities, but, the morals they are raised with, and the manners that are instilled are the same.

Even if they screw up!  Yup they have the same, “crap” as in, I disappointed or didn’t obey, or rebelled, as each other in the family.  When it comes to what is taught and caught it is the same.  No difference.

What makes differences is personalities, or diagnosed difficulties. Either in learning, or other.  That is where the difference comes, not from being a biological or an adopted child.  That doesn’t make one bit of difference.  It’s the challenges that a child is born with that make the challenges in life.  If we parent accordingly, then birth by heart, or birth by womb makes no difference.

I have fallen in love with every one on my children the moment I saw them, from birth, from meeting in a DCS office, to the NICU, to the doorstep when they arrived via a worker from DCS or after hours.

I also fell in love with more than one child who came to me as a foster child that I could not keep, or got moved on.  I only grieved for a small moment, because more than one of those I now am in contact with or never lost contact with.  Hearts are big.  Love is bigger, and we all can become a family, no not a village, but a family, who helps raise the more challenging ones, who lost parents, and sometimes siblings, but through the love that pervades the family, becomes the person God envisioned them to be.

I thank God for my journey through loving the Lost Children, some of who I call my own.  Many are found, let’s try to save or consider those who are lost.

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