letting go

We had to opportunity to foster a 2 week old baby for a week. It took me about 20 minutes to fall head over in heals with him. Brand new babe, I worried about him leaving, I worried about him staying. At 45, I feel to old to start again. At 45, I feel to young to give up on adoption. Confusing..... He wasn't even up for adoption. He went back home to his momma. His momma who will, more than likely, lose him to foster care again and again. My heart hurts, and when he left, he left a hole. My arms ache and I am worried for him. Worried that he had to cry thru the night, that his diaper is wet, that she slapped him again, that he wonders where the people who chuckled at his middle of the night cries went. I am sad. I am looking for my boot straps. I will find them again. And I will keep praying for his momma and for him. It's hard to trust in my prayers but it's also the only hope I have for him. I need that mustard seed faith. So little, but so much. I also need to remember that the 4 other people in this home are enough. But it feels selfish to me. For them to be enough. I need to do more, we all need to do more. His momma needs more. More support from people, someone to reach out to when she feels like screaming at her newborn or feels like slapping him. Life.

Why I love November

Oh November.

Eight years ago on the Sunday after Thanksgiving I had just finished cleaning the house from top to bottom after a marathon week of Thanksgiving company that included overnight guests. We already had a houseful with our two daughters and two foster children. And, quite frankly, to say that I was exhausted would be an understatement.

But I felt him. Before I even knew him. I felt him finding his way to me. There is no way to explain it. I'm not a far out kind of girl. But we were finding our way to each other. Then the phone rang. And I said "yes" without any hesitiation.

Twenty minutes later he was in my arms. To say that the road to adoption was bumpy would be a colossal understatement. To say that he was meant to be ours, also a colossal understatement. He changed us. All of us. For the better.

those that shape us: So I'm not so good with keeping up a blog. Who kne...

those that shape us: So I'm not so good with keeping up a blog. Who kne...: So I'm not so good with keeping up a blog. Who knew? Well me for one. I am the one who gets the gear and declares herself a runner. Runs fai...

So I'm not so good with keeping up a blog. Who knew? Well me for one. I am the one who gets the gear and declares herself a runner. Runs faithfully for a week. Takes a day or month off and never runs again. Maybe it's the same with me and blogging. I hope not.

Things get busy, kids need to be here of there. Kids get sick, kids need visited at college. You get the picture. Really I wouldn't have it any other way. Unless I'm tired then I would have it every other way.

It's stick season around here and I am determined to find the beauty in it. Just before stick season tho- I got to do this. O' happy day.

so busy, but so darn cute

This weekend promises to be a good one. Our local football team has "gone pink" to raise money for breast cancer awareness. I love that. The way a small, hometown wants to make a big difference. We could learn from them.

Have a wonderful weekend friends.

should be doing....

I should be doing a lot of other things right now. Cleaning off the top of my desk, cleaning up dog hair, laundry....the list is endless. Is yours?? Or are we the only pigs out there?  But it's bright and sunny out and I am feeling crafty and creative. I can always clean up the dog hair tomorrow or the next day.

I am pretty new to the photography world. It's really hard for me to charge money for something that I love to do (even though God knows we could use the extra dollars). And to be honest it still scares the crap out of me when someone asks me to take pictures for them. Strange mix of fear and thrill. I am learning to accept the fact the I am good at it. Plain and simple. That's hard to admit. I don't understand why, it just is. Low self esteem. Hope my kids don't have it as badly as I do. They shouldn't. They are smart and cute.

Big weekend awaits. Friday night football. Kart racing banquet. Church. Photo shoot. Kids underfoot. Love. Enjoy yours.

blogging in secret

You know I am not really even sure what I have to say. It just seems that it's more than I can fit on my facebook page. I think I really just need a place where I can connect with people in a different way. Put it out there. Say it out loud (sort of ). So here goes nothing or everything. Either way I am doing it. Reaching out. Something I am honestly not very good at. It's easier to step back, let others go on with their dreams, be happy for them and all the while wish I was them. When really all I need to be is myself. Which if I am honest feels pretty darn normal, or maybe even ordianary but with sometimes the most extra-ordinary life. I see life thru the lens of my camera and here is a peak of what I've been living this week.

I always feel like little Sal's mother. Storing up food for next winter.