And then there were 3

The babies left Wednesday afternoon. It was a decision that we made in tandem with CPS and our agency. Tough though it was, deciding to allow them to go was the best choice.

Here, in this place called a failed placement, life seems to be turned on its ear. We struggle to stand under the word failed; no one wants to fail -- the guilt and anger and sadness are almost overwhelming. Our kids are a little raw from losing siblings. I find myself counting my little hens as we walk out the door, only to startle each time when I stop at 3 instead of 5.

And it's here, at the bottom, I find myself more often than not exchanging my rose-colored glasses for ones of a more chartreuse tint. I want my adoption to work. In all honesty, I want this road to end, this journey to be complete. Through many connections made because of adoption I know so many people who are done. For every horror story I've heard I can recount an almost fairy-tale like situation. I want the latter. I get jealous that it seems so easy for some people. And just when that happens I know that I've let my guard down enough that the enemy has started whispering his own venomous version of sweet little nothings in my ear.

Adoption is about trauma. It is born of trauma, of loss, and while my God can certainly heal those wounds the scars left behind are permanent. It's naive of me to think that the trauma is only for the child. No -- some of the trauma is for us, the adoptive family, too. When we take on the responsibility of being one of the families God puts the lonely in (psalm 68:6) we agree to take on the good and bad, including the trauma. Any family who has adopted has experienced trauma -- whether it happened before "gotcha day" or after is irrelevant. None of it is easy.

Where do we go from here? I pull up the bootstraps. Return to journals so I can remember why in the green world I am doing this. And we press on. For practicality's sake, we are not going to foster for at least a year. Given the tumultuous nature of 2011, we think we should focus on straight-adoption of waiting children for a while. We are still committed to state adoptions so we aren't looking internationally at this time and domestic private adoptions aren't something we feel called to pursue. There probably won't be many updates for a while as the straight-adopt process can take a while to match to a waiting child.

Continue to pray for us -- that we would ready ourselves and our home for our forever child. For our kids -- that their wounds would be healed as they grieve the loss of the babies. And stick around as I'm sure God has lots in store for us this year!

Intentionality

Ann Voskamp. Do you know her? I don't know her know her but I do know of her. And love what bits of her heart she's shared with the great wide world. She names her years, as a way to focus herself on her goal/s for that time. I love the idea but I struggled with naming my kids so the idea of naming an entire year was daunting with a capital scary. So I didn't.

Instead I wrote out my goals -- for the first time ever if I remember correctly. After writing them out, I really began to study them, knowing that success would be possibly only after I addressed not just the behaviors I wanted to change but the motivation behind those behaviors. (A sidenote: I do this with my kids all.the.time. Why did I never think before now to do it to myself?) Time and again I came around to the same word -- intentional. If I am going to be healthy I am going to have to be intentional. If I am going to actually reach my goal of writing a list of 1000 things to be thankful for, ever going to better understand eucharisteo I am going to have to intentional. If I am going to change my Bible study habits I am going to have to be intentional. If I am going to do anything well, right, correct I am going to have to be intentional.

Right smack in the middle of that epiphany is when I realized 2012 had named itself -- my year of intentionality. I must use that word a gazillion times when I'm talking about raising my kids, when I'm speaking of shepherding their young hearts and shaping their minds. But I've never thought to turn it lose in my life.

So here I am -- in my year of intentionality -- knowing I can't do anything on my own but choosing each day to embrace a new day's worth of grace and using it to intentionally seek more, see more, do more.

Update

It's been almost 2 full weeks since I declared for all the world my addiction to food. Seriously...so embarrassing. I consider taking that post down daily. I'm making some huge strides and though I am nowhere close to where I need to be I can tell the changes are huge. Mega-HUGE. Y'all I'm talking pass-up-the Shipleys-donut-for-multigrain-cheerios-even-though-I-already-bought-the donuts HUGE. Typically I would've polished those bad boys off. Can't waste food -- I'm doing it for the poor starving children who would love to have to eat those donuts. But I let them go. Huge.

My workouts haven't been anywhere close to consistent. I'm getting there though. I can at least say I haven't given up, a typical occurrence in years past. A benefit of baring your soul on the internet is that LOTS of people know...and ask. An awesome benefit, actually, because instead of having just 2 accountability partners I have several. Very very nice, indeed.

Other things are coming about because of my change in attitude but I'll save those for another post. Right now I have to go gently remind my children, for the seventy billionth time, that napping doesn't include jumping from the top bunk.

Homeschool dorks

Here at the Pearson Academy of Excellence in Higher Learning Institute, ltd (we don't have a fancy name for our "school" ... we just call it "home") we are busy breeding the next generation of homeschool dorks. No lie. When I first felt the God-tug on my heart to pursue homeschool, one of my biggest fears was creating a bunch of little dorks. Now I gleam with pride at their dorkiness!

How do I know the tides are turning? When they sang the 50 states in alphabetical order with every state line we crossed to and from Florida. When the typical "cowboys and Indians" turns into Davy Crockett and Black Hawk. When Jack declares, "Stand back knights. Let them sample my blade!" When they pull the animal encyclopedia out to choose the animals they are "going to be" while playing with friends. Such adorable little homeschoolers!

Of course just when I think they've completely transformed...I find them outside using the fort as a deer blind, shooting the inflatable target with nerf crossbows. And for them, no hunting trip is complete until you field dress the animal and bring mom the back strap.

Pure Junk

I wrote a post last night -- beautifully articulated -- in my head. And now this morning, try as I may, everything I write is junk. The babies are scheduled to leave this morning, although the inclement weather may delay things another day or so. Am wondering if quiet reflection might bring back the words lost to sleep.

It's been 5 days

Well it's been 5 days since my no-holds barred post. How am I doing? I'm doing...okay. I won't say great. Most days -- in fact every day -- I do very well with the food, until the kids go to bed. And then it's every man for himself. But I have done my exercise every day (with the exception of the day Sam had his tonsils removed...it was rough). On the one hand I'm proud that I've made some tough but good choices. On the other, deep down, I know I can do more. Forget the "should do" I'm in the "can do" but am choosing not to phase. But at least I can admit that...and I'm working on plans to change things in that department.

I haven't seen any changes but it's only been 5 days and oh my did it take more than 5 days to get this way.

You know what I'm ready for? I'm ready for the word "weight" to not be a bad word, for it to not make my skin crawl. And I'm not going to stop until that changes...

Hi, my name is Valerie and I'm an addict

I don't say that lightly, I don't use it to make fun. It's taken a while (almost a year...) for me to be able to admit I have a problem. I am addicted to food. Weird thing to be addicted to isn't it -- something I actually need to use? But it's true. I use to celebrate, lament, wallow and reward; I use it for every purpose other than what it's intended design. And I can't stop.

I really didn't want to put this here -- publish for all to see. I want to keep my shame where it fits best, hidden from public view. But I vowed to use this for honesty and openness (and to tell the truth I could use the accountability) so here it is. I hate this...HATE this. I hate admitting I don't have everything under control. I hate admitting that I'm not where/who/what I want to be. What if people talk badly about me? What if they laugh? Or shake their finger? I also hate admitting I might be more like others than I want to be. I'm different, I don't struggle like other people. I don't need to make a new goal at the beginning of the year. I'm above that... But I'm done letting arrogance rule things, so here is the admission.

I've tried so many times before -- and I've tried so many things before. And nothing works. Why? Because I've never gotten to the root of the problem...the addiction. The simple fact is that I've used food to supplant all else. So much of this hinges on the fact that I've filled my God-shaped hole with food (and the emotion that I get from that food).

Now I have to fix that. I'm going to post here as I work through this. Hoping the accountability will help. I don't have lofty goals; I've failed to meet too many of those before. You want to know my goal? To wake up tomorrow and exercise for 10 minutes. Just tomorrow and just 10 minutes. That's the commitment I have to make because that's how small my baby steps need to be. And then tomorrow I'm going to make the same commitment about the next day. My goal is to eat the next meal like I know I should -- to use the food the way it's intended, as fuel and nothing else. I can't think about the whole day -- just the next portion.

Naturally the planner in me wants to push through to the end result, to plan out menus and exercise plans and goal weights. But I'm not sure I can do that. I have to first deal with the internal, the spiritual. I have to clean the idol of food out of the temple court and work on righting all that's within. And while I do that I can make each choice about food and exercise as it comes. I'm hoping that with enough tomorrows I'll get a whole week and that with enough weeks I'll get a month. I'm hoping that with enough 10 minutes I can move to 30 and then beyond. But I can't think about those just yet.

I did my 10 minutes today. I thought I was going to vomit for about an hour after but I did it. And admitting that here is more embarrassing than you will ever know. But maybe embarrassment is good for the proud...maybe a little dose of humility is just what I need.

Follow me on the journey if you'd like...I'll be back tomorrow!