Lynyrd Skynyrd Had a Great Mom

She's the kind of mother I want to be. With purpose. With straight forward talk. Not afraid to lead her son. 

"Mama told me when I was young
'Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this it'll help you some sunny day'

She taught him to listen to his mama. Even if what she was teaching him right now didn't apply, she taught him what it meant to ponder her words and use them when appropriate. 

'Oh, take your time, don't live too fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
You'll find a woman and you'll find love
And don't forget, son, there is someone up above'

She taught him to live for today because tomorrow has enough worries. She taught him about love. She told him about Jesus. 

'And be a simple kind of man
Oh, be something you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh, won't you do this for me, son, if you can'

She taught him that being simple isn't the same as being small. To have goals and to be a man worth knowing. 

'Forget your lust for the rich man's gold
All that you need is in your soul
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied'

And maybe she didn't even realize she was teaching him that God is his portion and his cup. That the boundaries have fallen in good places for him. That even though he may walk through the valley of the shadow of death, he is given daily life giving bread. 

'Boy, don't you worry, you'll find yourself
Follow your heart and nothing else
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try
All that I want for you, my son, is to be satisfied'"

She taught him what it meant to have faith like a mustard seed. To step out and hear God and follow. What it means to turn from the enemy's relentless whisper and "only be strong and courageous."

And she's taught me to stand firm in my calling as a mother. Step out and speak with purpose to my children. To only be strong and only be courageous. To look to Him who is my perfect portion. My perfect cup full. 

Raising these boys to men is our job. It's the only job with an echo quite this loud. My children will grow up to change lives. Today, some men in Dallas changed lives. Is this what we are settling for?   

They just don't make music like they used to. 

Failing as a Mom

I didn't realize until yesterday that I had completely failed as a mother. And not just a little. Really failed. It hit me deep in my gut, and it was all I could do not to cry right there in front of my students. 

One of my 5th graders walked by and casually asked, "Hey, Mrs. B, did you go to the baseball game yesterday?"

In that minute I remembered why I didn't. I was supposed to take Sam to a birthday party. His friend's birthday party. His best friend's birthday party. We got caught up in plans and busyness and absolutely nothing, and I forgot to take him. 

It may not seem like a huge deal, but I know my Sam. I know his heart. And I've seen him cry, devastated when he feels like he has hurt someone's feelings. 

I've also watched him struggle to make friends because we've moved so many times in his little life. He's changed schools nearly every year. He's lived in neighborhoods not conducive to making friends outside. And he's been lonely. 

In fact we chose our home because it was zoned for schools my kids could attend and receive a good education. We also chose this house because our kids could finally go to school with the kids in their neighborhoods. 

So when my Sam came home day after day talking about his new friend, I thanked God for her. This sweet little girl who gets my crazy Sam I Am and his clowny jokes and off beat sense of clothing taste. She's quiet and let's him be loud and heard which is a major bonus for a the little boy who is the youngest of five. She's giggly at his jokes and builds him up with her words. 

He has a new story about her everyday and he is simply smitten. He only wants to invite her to his 10th birthday next week. And he so looked forward to honoring her at her birthday. The weight of all this hit me as I stood outside of my classroom yesterday. 

I made a completely rookie mistake of not writing her party down in my calendar. I had to wait to process. On my break I texted my husband. He hurt with me. Fool heartedly, I think I was hoping he would say it wasn't a big deal. But he didn't because he knows that Sam as well as I do. I love that he encouraged me and sympathized with me, but I knew my Sam was going to be hurting. 

What's worse is I knew he wouldn't realize until she asked him about it at school. And I couldn't even be there to say sorry or hug him or fix it. So I prayed that God would comfort my baby and help his friend not to be mad at him. She wasn't. 

I got home as soon as possible and apologized. I warred with not bringing it up at all. I'm the mom. I'm busy. I'm in charge of five kids and doesn't he know how much I do for other people?? But that's all pride and not at all who I want to be.

So I just said I'm sorry and I asked Sam how he felt. I ached when his lip quivered while he said it was ok. He forgave me quickly, but it left me wondering. 

Am I doing too much? Should I chalk this up to "stuff like this happens"? Sure. Of course we make mistakes as parents. But I needed to do some heavy reflecting. A lot of my time is spent on my job. I'm a working mom. I have to work, but this means I get to say no to other things. I should have said no to some other things.

I never want Sam to feel like he's getting the short end of me. My priorities are God, my husband, my children, and then everything else. All of that in that order all of the time. 

Sam so graciously forgave me and we spent the day thinking of ways we can bless his friend for her birthday. I know it will be fine, and he assured me that she forgave him for missing. But this has caused me to remember to get caught up in the good stuff, not the busy stuff. 

Sunday should have been Sam day. Getting him to this birthday should have been my priority, and it wasn't. I'm pretty sure I'll have plenty of mom fails. And I'm good with that, because no parent is perfect. I'll embrace my shortcomings. But I want to strive to finish strong. 

We've fully raised one girl. We've got two more on deck in high school. One in 6th. And now Sam is moving on to 5th grade. I didn't work when the rest of my kids were young. It's my job to select the best priorities so Sam never feels like he is raised differently or gets less of the important parts of me because I choose to work. 

These kids are my masterpiece. This family is my opus. My greatest role is honoring them and raising children who change this world for the better.  I'm so grateful I'm not in this alone. And I'm so grateful they forgive when I am not perfect. 

This song lyric speaks to me. 

"You wanna know where my heart is, I stand out because I wear my garbage." NF Real 

¿Ya?No¿

About twenty minutes and some days ago, I saw, from the corner of my eye, this hair. It rivaled mine in every way except pigment. I strolled on over and introduced myself. She introduced herself as Jami Armine. We've been late night texting and swapping sarcasm "like we are the oldest and dearest of friends." (Kathleen Kelly of the little bookstore.) Today she has blessed us with her heart on adopting her own version of my Sam. His name too happens to be Sam. Sam 2.0 Here is her story...

We currently have seven children. They range in age from 21 year to 7 months.  4 biological, 1 adopted, 1 almost adopted, and a wee baby foster daughter.  

Our 4-year-old son, Sam is… well, he’s a hot mess.  

Although, we are often offered congratulatory praise for our “awesomeness” for opening our home to the boy, the truth is… He saved our lives.

  

At a time when all was lost, I made a ridiculously inappropriate phone call and stammered, “We want to adopt.” 

Nine months from that day, we met Sam. 

And we laughed again. 

We smiled again.

We hoped again. 

We stopped sleeping through the night… again.  

Sam has a non-stop chatter. Oddly enough, in spite of the fact that he has been in our home since he was ten-days-old and we are Texans of German – Scottish-Norwegian descent – Sam has a little bit of a Mexico-ish dialect.  And he can’t say cheese, but he says queso perfectly. 

Ours in not to question why.  

And lately he has this thing he says, with a Hispanic quick tongue. He says it repeatedly after a question. 

“Can I have a dwink of water, Ya? No? Ya? NO? Ya? Or NO?” 

It gets to be laughable. Especially in a two-part question. 

Sam: Can I have cookies and go outside? Ya? No? Ya? NO? Ya? Or NO?

Me: You can go outside, but you can’t have cookies because it is almost time for dinner.

Sam: Ya? No?

Me: No. No, and Ya. 

Sam: Ya? No? 

Me: No. No. Ya. 

Sam: No-Ya I have cookies and go outside?  

Me: Ya, no? Wait, what?  

Inevitably, we just give him anything he asks for.  

So the other day someone asked me how we knew for sure that God was calling us to foster and adopt. I can honestly say I was self-willed in this.  It was on my heart, we wanted to rewrite our story. Stop being the “Poor Amerines” and be instead, people of joy.  

And I didn’t wait for a ya.  

I didn’t wait for a no.  

We just jumped in… head first.  

In other scenarios we have prayed and asked, or begged for clarity. And there have been other times we have used the Ya? No? tactic to quickly get our way.  And then we have someone to blame when it blows up.  You said “Ya? No? Oh wait you didn’t say ya?”

But you can’t stump God.  

Nor can you out-wit Him.  
“We aren’t called to (adopt, foster, give, donate…)” 

And sorry, that is ballarky.  Yes, we have clear and concise words from God that guide us, like our first placement, a real live human boy… that I knew wasn’t our son.  But spare yourself, and those around you the “I am not called…” Because there are a million ways to serve the least of these and we are ALL called to that. (Matthew 25:40)

And He who gives also takes away. (Job 1:21) And that hurts. We were never told it wouldn’t hurt.  

Loving hurts. 

Yet we are all called to love. (John 13:34)   

And I am momma to a quirky little Mexican boy. He makes us laugh. He teaches us daily.

Sometimes there is a clear answer and sometimes there is simply a clear risk. But the risk has been worth the pain. 

The truth is our God moves how He moves and saves how He saves. He called us each to care for the orphans and the widows. He encouraged us to give until it hurts. (Luke 9:23-25) To walk away from your possessions, let the dead bury the dead and follow Him.  (Matthew 19:21)

And this, is much easier said than done.  

I fully assume you know where I speak from… 

Ya? No?  

May your floors be sticky and your calling ordained.

 Love, Jami 

Defend the weak and the fatherless, uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed.  Psalm 82:3

Visit Jami at Sacred Ground Sticky Floors

My First Link Up: Let's Talk Tuesday

I am hosting my very first link up! There is a chance I will do this all wrong, but I decided to brave the world of blog hosting in hopes of not only linking you together with bloggers of similar interests, but I also love reading what nonsense is spinning through your head. Here are the rules:

Let's Talk Tuesday

1. What's on your mind? Pick a topic (hopefully random) and give in to a short gab, letting out the pent up thoughts that just need freeing. If you can't think of a topic, you can use mine, but I encourage you to get out whatever has been keeping your brain preoccupied. Examples? Dogs in sweaters; how do you feel about it? Why won't the corners of my sheets stay put? Will my hair be this large in heaven? Should I unpack already packed boxes if I am sure there are things in there I should get rid of? Just free your mind, and start typing.

2. Visit the blog that came before you. The whole point of a link up is to meet someone you may not otherwise run into in the blog-o-sphere.

3. No diatribes. I am not one to dwell on the bitterness. Turn that smile upside down and write about something thought provoking, not something that is going to drive your readers to stick their head under the covers.

4. Grab my Let's Talk Tuesday button and invite people on your blog to link up here.

So, Let's Talk Tuesday: What have I been keeping pent up in this brain of mine? It's more of a question really. When is too soon to share with new friends? Last night I was at a cooking show, because I do this on the side. The side of wife, the side of mom, the side of teacher, the side of writer, the side of blogger. I have a lot of sides. 
So, there I am. It's the end of the demonstration of pizza a chocolate cake (win/win) and I am sitting with the host when her little boy runs in from the backyard and announces to the room of friends (and me. the stranger), "MOM! Jay is PEEING in the DOG bowl!!!" 
As a good supportive mother, I didn't laugh right away. On the outside. As any good mother hosting a house full of women, she spoke over him and pushed him kindly into Dad's arms. When everyone else resumed their boisterous conversations in the other room, I quietly shared with her THIS story. We both laughed until we cried, but the whole way home I kept thinking, "hmmm. Was it too soon to share this story? Was it too soon to let her know I told my son to secretly pee in a stranger's yard?" What do you think? Too soon. 

<div align="center"><a href="http://kreativly.blogspot.com/2012/06/my-first-link-up-lets-talk-tuesday.html" title="Nonsense at its Finest"><img src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a2d824b3127ccef01f13e1b1f900000030O02AZNHLds3Ysge3nwg/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" alt="Nonsense at its Finest" style="border:none;" /></a></div>

Things that make my brow furrow

There isn't coffee in my hands.
I wanna watch hours of Gilmore Girls but can't.
There is a fly buzzing around my head, and he isn't small.
I have my third sinus infection of the year. Ghetto
My desire for donuts right this minute.
There isn't coffee in my hands.
Sam (5) can only communicate with passion aka crazy emotions.
My husband is at work.
I have deadlines looming.
I have so many thins to do, I don't know where to begin.
There isn't coffee in my hands.


Things that make me smile?
I hear my big boy helping his brother AND making me coffee. Well played Elijah. Don't tell anyone, but you are totally my favorite.

Saddest Rodeo Cowboy in the Circuit

Melancholy Cowboy

That Sam I Am. That Sam I Am. Who doesn't like green eggs and ham? Only people who are too nervous to try it. I do not know what it is about this little boy of mine, but he sure gets the melancholy mumps on a regular basis. He is sad in this picture because I won't let him carry a woman's purse. Poor kid. He doesn't know all I do for his own good. To his future wife- you're welcome.

Sam At Bedtime. He got me again.

So. Samuel Fisher is a big movie quoter. Let's be real. If you are going to be one of the children in this house, you have to be a movie quoter. AGAIN he wasn't in his bed. I said, "FISH what are you doing?
 He said, in his best New York accent (which was phenomenal) "I WAS ON A SAFARI, BOB!" This is of course my favorite line from Return to Me delivered by Dick Cusack, John's and Joan's seriously awesome father. I cannot discipline under these circumstances.

The Clown of the Family

Something about this kid just seems naughty. It's a quality. When he poses in pictures, he seems to say, "You can relax; the party is saved; I am here now." Naughty. I will not be the slightest bit surprised when he gets coal in his stocking this year. Well, maybe a little, because he is also the sort of kid who can convince you of anything. Especially when it means he gets presents not at all made of fossil fuels.

SOOOO TIIIRED

This is the image I was met with on my way to bed late one night last week. I don't know what bedtimes are like at your house, but once we get them all tucked in, we are usually met with a litany of questions and accusations.

"Sam is making a weird NOISE!"

"Addison won't stay on her side of the bed, and I think she is growling."

"Can I get a drink of water?"

"I think I am scared of the dark. No wait, I just don't want to go to sleep. Can I stay up with you?"

"I think I ate too much dinner; can I sleep on the ground?"

"Mommy, if I swallowed a star, would you be able to see it glowing in my belly?"

sigh. It's endless and not amusing when you are trying to have an in house date with your spouse.

So this particular night, once all the questions and examinations had ceased, and all the lights were out, I began my slow ascent up the stairs. My eyes were closed, lights off, and I leaned heavily against the wall, too tired even to walk up the stairs. The Man was trailing behind me giving me a hiney helper (this is not a euphemism, it just means he was literally pushing me by the butt up the stairs). I opened my eyes one stair before stepping on Sam. Lucky for him. I nearly screamed, but managed to keep it together and get my camera.

I know what you are thinking. "Is that kid's face EVER clean?" No, no it isn't.

Sam

Happy Birthday, Baby. I think you're cute.

My Mother's Day Present

Sam I Am is potty trained. happy sigh.
I could not have asked for a better present.
Well, maybe a vacation, but potty training is wonderful as well.
He got a Hot Wheels race track to celebrate.

Sam No Longer Sleeps With The Pacifier

No, not this one.

This one. We are very excited.

Major Sigh

At first glance, this boy seems sweet as candy. I have Photo Shopped out his budding horns. Last night, upon hearing our session of Wii Sports was coming to an end, this little rotten egg proceeded to firmly grasp the remote control and hurl it, Olympic javelin style, just right of center into my 42" Vizio LCD television screen.

In case you are wondering, yes, he does have quite an arm, yes, I did spank him, yes, my husband was extensively angry, yes, everyone in the house froze for at least a minute, and no, I cannot afford to replace it. The only reason I could afford a TV like that in the first place was because of my stellar puzzle solving skills on The Wheel. Annoying.

CHEEEESE!! This is my Sam Fisher. My little bitty baby. Isn't he seriously soooo cute?!