The new additions

I'm still torn up about my Conner. He went to VISIT his non biological grandparents, and when it was time to come home, to my house, the social worker said he would just stay with them because "that they have the brother."

But, I'm still praying that God's will be done concerning my little man, and I have faith that He'll get done what needs to be done. (And I will drop everything and DO anything to assist in THAT, if need be... which I hope I get the opportunity to do)!

IN THE MEANTIME- I got a phone call from a quite stressed out social worker needing placement for two "very hyper, probably ADHD" children. EEK. For the FIRST time in my life, I said, "Let me talk to my husband and call you back." (You know it's bad when I don't just SURPRISE him. When he reads it on FB).  

"Two more kids is too crazy. We need to have ONE kid at a time. And if the social worker is already TELLING you they are nuts, you can't handle them. You know they always sugar coat things."

I nodded in agreement, relieved that Starling said no, so I could tell the social worker, "I absolutely want to take them, but MY husband... he's just not the saint I am..."

 "Let's pray about it." That would give me the ultimate OUT.

So we did. Brooklyn, who had come in on the conversation joined us.

"Oh... how do you feel about taking them?" I asked.

"Fine," he sighed.

"Me too," I muttered with a inward shutter.

"I am SOO EXCITED TO HAVE A SISTER!!!" Was Brooklyn's response.

So in they came. Like a nuclear explosion. Within two minutes of their entry my house, which we CLEANED before they came, had self imploded. It had literally thrown up ANYTHING within reach of a five year old. ON a STOOL. Including blankets, storage, etc.

Within 3 hours Brooklyn's head was bleeding from being slashed with a toy sword and Boeing had a bloody nose. (I was foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog about to eat people and Starling, the most patient man on planet Earth, had a twitch and was clenching and unclenching his fists, while trance talking "Not going to work. This is NOT going to work").

Let's just say... GOD and I had a LOOOOOOONG talk.

The next day was much better. We went to church in Jackson, attended my nephew's baptism, then played with cousins. Nothing TOO insane happened. Except the house imploding. Again.

Monday, while the kiddos went with their social worker for a doctor's appointment, I performed the single most important act of my cleaning career.

I bagged, canned, boxed EVERY SINGLE TOY my kids own. Seriously. And I stuck them ALL in the school room. Which, by the way, is LOCKABLE! Then I vacuumed up the mounds of crackers CRUNCHED into the carpet (despite the fact I do not allow food or drinks AWAY from the kitchen table) and when the children got home, we had a little chit chat.

AND things have been a MILLION times better. If they would LIKE to play with something, I get it out of the school room. If they would like something ELSE, they return to me the CLEANED up toys, and I give them something new.

If anyone breaks the rules of the house: No Hitting, No Standing on the kitchen table, No Pushing, No Holding the puppy upside down, by one leg, or pinching it with pliers, No leaving the doors wide open, No throwing food, No stabbing the table with forks, No drawing artwork on the walls, etc. They stick their cute little nose in the corner. And a timer is set. The corner gets used. A LOT. But it takes the stress off me. I no longer have to get angry. I don't have to figure out a punishment. NO smiley face and Time-out.

"What happens when you dump your sister's cereal on her head?"

TRAMATIC, "I-I-I go to da COOORNEEEER...." Wailing, gnashing of teeth.

"Yup. Get there."

And Starling and I decided Kolten needed a push in the right direction. So we named him "Mr. Careful Man." (Since he is reckless and out of control). We told him stories about "Mr. Careful Man" and he now walks around saying, "Look! I bein' careful! Cuz I Mr. Careful Man!" And the girls and boys have competitions (between themselves- not provoked by ME) on who can keep their rooms the cleanest. (The boys have NEVER won. Bless their hearts). But the girl's room is currently immaculate! They even made their bed.   

I have a little dry erase board that has all the kids' names on it. When they clean their room, they get to draw, under their name, a SMILEY FACE! (Wow- I know. Pulling out the Big Guns). When they finish eating AT the TABLE, and take their bowl to the sink, wipe the table and chair and FLOOR, they get to draw another SMILEY FACE! (You would be AMAZED at the things I'm able to get my children to do for a dry erase marker to draw a circle with some dots). And periodically, when the kids do great things to help me or on their own, I reward them. (You guessed it- with a SMILEY FACE)! And when they get FIVE smiley faces- they get to pick something from the treat box. So. "Congratulations! You cleaned your room, kitchen, living room, bathroom, Mommy's room, and yard! Here's a hershey's kiss. ENJOY!"

The other thing the kids absolutely LOVE is high fives and KISSES. Kolten said "thank you" and, since it's something we are working on, I said, "Oh! You said thank you! That makes me so happy I have to give you a kiss!" My five little darlings, YES Boeing included, said "thank you" over and over until my kisser was bruised.

Kolten, who came here rough and tough, says, "M-Mrs. Wendi, I gonna share my crackers with Boeing and you have to give me a KISS!" And then he grins and acts like it's the most humiliating experience of his 3 year old life to have me kiss his cheek.  

Now, if I can only get the food situation under control.. We normally buy groceries once every week and a half or so. Or longer. We have gone full blown grocery shopping twice. THIS WEEK. We need a separate fridge JUST to hold milk. I've never seen kids put away so much food. And so OFTEN.

"Okay. Here's your third helping of Lasagna and 5th glass of water."

"Thank you! When I finish eating this can I have a bowl of cereal? I'm still hungry."

"Here's your second bowl of cereal."

"Thanks! When is snack time?"

SO. That is my new project. Figure out how to stop LIVING in the KITCHEN. It is my LEAST favorite place in the whole HOUSE, after all.

When the social worker told me that the therapist recommended the kids be placed in a "therapeutic" home on Monday, I was relieved. "So they'll be with me like two weeks tops?" The sw said, "They'll be with you until you say, 'I've had enough; come get them!'" I smiled thinking, "So... less than two weeks."

BUT. They have grown on me. And on Starling. They have made AMAZING progress in the 6 days they have been here. And they have been SO receptive to learning. Breonna, (yes another B) especially, LOVES scripture and prayer time. She found a bell and said, "I found the Holy Ghost! Listen! It's that still small voice!" We explained that the Holy Ghost lives inside of you.

So tonight Breonna said, "I know that the Holy Ghost is inside of my heart so he can bertect me while I'm sleeping!" Kolten chimed in, "A-And he's inside MY heart TOO! I know b-because I can feel my heart beeping!"

And when we talked about "blessings," Breonna said, "Like it's a blessing you adopting us!" And Kolten said, "yeah! you is nice! I want to stay with you, too!" And we had to have the talk about how they get to stay with me until their daddy can get them. And how he loves them so much, etc. (THAT is the hardest part about fostering. I feel like I can't make a big enough difference by JUST fostering. And I hate sending them back to a bad situation).

And they LOVE doing school. Much more than my bio kids. They have an intense desire to learn, which is terrific since Breonna is five and doesn't know her alphabet. (She was simply never taught). But she's a super fast learner and loves Brooklyn to teach her. (And Brooklyn, as you can imagine, LOVES an eager pupil). Brooklyn reads TWICE as much since Breonna says, "Brooklyn! You are reading! You are doing it!" 

And then, Brooklyn will read a sentence and Breonna will repeat the sentence. "You did it, Breonna! You are learning to read just like me!"

Kolten and Bry get along, also. (When they aren't punching each other in the stomach, anyway). Kolten always asks, "Where my little buddy go?" They both like to play outside, which, for me is FANTASTIC. If only they'd STAY out and not flap the door like a fly swatter.  

The kid's dad will get them back when his bond gets reduced. Or when grandma can pass a drug test. So, unless something changes, we are keeping them until then. I love my little spastic, overflowing with laundry and crumbs, crazy life. Except when I don't.