Today marks seven months since we moved in to Clear Creek. I think I have started a new post almost every month, but can never seem to finish it. Perhaps it is because we are always on the go. Maybe it is because when I do have a moment to sit, I do not have enough mental capacity to finish a thought. Or, it is because assigning words to this journey is almost too difficult, nor would any string of words paint an accurate picture.
When we began, we had eight children. Within a few weeks, we grew by one. In less that two months we said "best wishes" to one, only to say it again three months later...and again one week ago. We welcomed one more child to our home in July as well.
First there is the logistics. Running kiddos to jobs, commitments, clubs, church, and appointments keep us in a vehicle almost all evening long. There have been days that we have honestly spent seven hours straight running kids from one place to the next!! I am so grateful that we do not pay for the most of the gas we use weekly!) We manage three different school schedules, five different work schedules, piano, home visits, caseworkers, families, counselors, agency demands, doctors, tutors, etc. Mornings must work like clock-work or everything falls apart--("WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON"T KNOW WHERE YOUR SHOE IS?!") If the first bus is late, my second round of kids are off kilter because now they do not have the right amount of time to get ready.
Walmart managers get excited when they see us enter the store, cashiers try to duck or take their break at just the right time to avoid the three cart-loads we haul to their registers. The task of taking eight kids grocery shopping is not for the weak! We spend a great deal of time counting. No, not the "I'm going to count to three, then you..." We all know I don't believe in that. But counting to make sure I have everyone. We are constantly scanning the crowd, taking count, and making mental notes of who is doing what. Eating out, almost becomes a chore not quite worth the hassle. Once this summer while in vacation, we were charged a 20% gratuity because our family was so large (I mean, really, we just took up three booths!). Truthfully, that is the easy stuff.
Like all families, sibling arguments, or fights similar to the expectations of a WWIII, tend occur frequently. And I must say, we have some very skilled thespians among us! We could have our own, very skilled, drama club. The uncontrolled, wild hormones of teenage-hood are so overpowering that I think I am now reversing my trip toward menopause, and am heading in the wrong direction! Seriously, if I get another zit, I may scream! I have also learned teenagers really are not that much different than toddlers. They are quite skilled at fit throwing when they do not get their way, but if you can divert their attention ("LOOK! SQUIRREL!!"). Jealously seems to take its turn as well in the crowd. I never thought I would hear the "but you like her more than you do me!" so many times in a week!!!! There are days, moments, times that I think if I hear one more argument, my head may start to spin and I will look like the girl from the Exorcist! But even this is the not-so-hard stuff.
Life isn't always hard. We definitely have so many great moments: laughing, watching kids stretch themselves (Literally, we have cameras everywhere! My personal favorite is the one focused on the punching bag). Okay, okay, I do mean academically, emotionally, mentally. There are moments like today, when all are in the kitchen, cleaning after supper, and simultaneous Nay Nay dancing occurs. When suddenly all the bickering stops, the mood changes, and suddenly all are whipping and nay-naying around the kitchen. (Of course, it would not be right if I left out the "Kwan". Goodness knows they hit it often enough each day! )
We have gone on vacation to Cleveland, the furthest away from Shelby County that many of them have ever been. We have played at the aquariums, done science experiments, had nerf gun wars through the house. This may the the appropriate time to say, I am completely unaware of any food fights (snicker, giggle). We have been to many softball games, plays, school concerts, and sat around many bonfires. We have been to the Renaissance Festival, Mansfield Prison, toured a war submarine, and oh, so much more. We cook together, watch movies until late, and even clean together.
What makes this job hard-- a lack of freedom, limited adult interactions with friends, and an almost nonexistent social life. The constant, "can we raincheck?" can be somewhat disappointing. But it isn't even that, really. What makes it hard, is the conversations that reveal wounds that each have received in such a short period of time. Conversations that are almost too painful to share, almost too much for me to process. What is hard, is knowing there is only so much I can do, so much that I can give before I have to step back and watch them wrestle their own demons. There are times that their demons turn them against us and they lash out, mentally and emotionally wounding us. It is hard, in those moments to separate their words and actions from who they are. It is hard to keep their demons from awakening my own. I must keep myself in check so that I can be what they need.
What makes things hard is visiting one of our children while he is in jail. Hard to let him face the consequences of his actions, when the mom inside of me is screaming to take him home, that it will be okay. It is hard saying goodbye to a child that you love and watch them venture off, not knowing whether they will make it. What makes it hard, is the constant worry about whether we are doing the right thing for each of them, and for our biological children. Is this new found defiance due to puberty or is it mocking what has been seen? Are we balancing things correctly? Are we making sure that we are taking care of the needs our biological children have?
We had been preparing our family for this job for two years prior to taking the position. We knew fully what we were getting into. We accepted this position well-aware of what it entailed, but perhaps we were still a bit naive. Perhaps, we were not quite aware of the emotional roller-coaster we would be riding each day. I can't lie: there are days that I do not like it. But truthfully, those days are few and far between, and typically exist more of fleeting thoughts, not days. It is the moments in which we get a note that says, "please Mom, when can I come home? Have you heard?" or a conversation like that of tonight: "when I can legally change my name, I would like to take your last name" that I makes up for the difficulty. It is the excitement of filling out college applications with kids who seven months ago had not considered college an option; the "please, Mom, will you make my lunch for me?" (not out of laziness, but because at the age of 17, this has never been done for her), that make this job worth it. It is the head in my lap or the warmth of one of the children curled up next to me, buried into my side while watching a movie that remind me that no matter the sacrifices, the self -doubt, the constant questioning, redirection, exhaustion, this is where God wants us to be!
