the here + now

I've always wanted to remain low maintenance. I don't get my nails done every week. Or my hair every six. I don't have to take two hours to get ready. Or buy all the latest fashions. Mine are usually non-fashion or about three seasons behind. Because I do what I want and wear what I want. As long as it doesn't put you out or rock the (budget) boat. But recently I've realized this low maintenance life isn't the best life. Being adamant about having only one pair of sunglasses because "that's all I need" bites me in the butt when my eight year old just wants to try them on and then they quickly go missing. Choosing to do other things and not care about my body gets me into heaps of trouble in numbers like 20 pounds more than last year. Let's all take a second to mourn that. Today I got a massage. It's been about 10 years. 10 years. What mom should be waiting 10 years for a massage?! No wonder so many of us feel like we're ...

I'm not much of a birthday person. It always feels like too much pressure. To make sure they know how loved they are. To accept "happy birthday" and gifts. To have to weigh the things that make my heart soar with the expectations of how I'm supposed to want to celebrate my birthday. I don't think I'll ever love birthdays but I'm trying to make it something for birthday lovers. I may never plan confetti shooters or surprise parties. I may be awkward when you tell me happy birthday for the fourth time. (Because come on, once is enough.) But please know if you're my people I love you to the depths and I'm thankful you're in my life.

At the beginning of summer I had grand ideas of how I was going to love our neighborhood. They would be simple, little ways. But would be an open door, nonetheless. All the sudden I realized today is July 16th, in a month my babies will be back in school. And I have yet to do any of those things I swore would be so easy to do. So I got the cones and the ice cream. I grabbed a little blue ikea table with my favorite blue folding chair from our garage. (Oh man, that garage is really the thing needing intentional love.) I sent text to a few friends saying "come get ice cream". It was hot and the ice cream was melting so fast. Sticky fingers and chocolate smiles. Kids riding bikes and running in the house to play x-box. I sat with a friend, while we talked with another about parenting and vacations. Then another friend came and we sat and talked and shared until the sun no longer danced in the sky. We got bit countless times by those pesky mosquitoes. Interrupted a...

yesterday was 4th of july. independence day. the day of cookouts, swimming, country music and fireworks. but my heart felt heavy. because there are people who aren't living in america. or another well developed country  who just want to live. they want to be in america to watch their babies grow. to survive. to have a way to have a better life than their parents did. the are expecting the rainbows and butterflies. but now they're stuck. without basic human needs. or at least many of the needs i get just because i was born in america. i hate politics so much. somehow because i was born in america and she wasn't that matters. and its a bunch of crap. because i'm a christian. and there seems to be so many different types. but to me and my bleeding heart christianity and politics just don't go together. they're separate things. because i want to love God and all the people He created more than my comfort. more than what i...

trying to write feels like death. letting it just come feels like breath. but what if i want to improve my writing. all the people say sit and force yourself. i'm not actually a fan of forcing myself to do things i don't feel. so what happens now. force myself to do the thing i'm not feeling. or force myself to do the thing that makes me feel alive somehow. in some weird 2019 way. today i'm feeling all sorts of weird. i'm on a trip with douglas. he works here in cleveland. last week we brought our babies with us. this week its just us. and really just me. because he'll be working all day. and trying to come down from the normal stay at home mom life is weird + hard. because i'm used to having so many things that "need" to be done. a home that reminds me that i'm no joanna gaines. children who are just freaking amazing but also they're selfish human beings. they make messes. they blame others for why they chose to do wha...

When I was younger I remember the remarks. "Oh here goes Katie crying again." Over time I started to learned to bite my lip or tongue, take a deep breath. Whatever it took not to let the tears fall. This went deeper when I experienced a deep grief. Losing that baby girl. She was never mine But oh it felt like that. During that time I shamed myself hard for crying months after she was gone. IF I went a few days without crying I felt like I had accomplished something. It's a lie that actually made the grief drag on and a therapist had to help me see how much I needed to go deep with that grief, where instead I just let it continue to simmer on the surface. I still try to hide the crying because all the things can make me cry. Watching someone elses child sing a song, a commercial about an old man passing out chocolate a song a feeling a memory the present a friends hug. I cry. It's been this thing that feels like my biggest weakness. This thin...

I'm not sure if you follow comedian John Crist on instagram. Mostly funny and often crossing a line that makes many uncomfortable. Some things I personally find funny and the things that make me squirm I just pass on by. I know I tend to feel things more intensely and know my limits. Most of the time. But a recent post I just can't stop thinking about. The church sign. You may or may not know what I'm talking about. The sign says " I'm proud to be a drug baby - my mom drug me to church " From my understanding, it's a line from a Lecrae song, although in my short 2 minute googling efforts I could not find said song. But what got me was all the comments of "my pastor said this" or "my pastor says this" Your pastor? You? Your mama? I'm confused . Do they not understand that there are truly drug babies. Babies fighting for their life? Mamas and Dads overdosing. Foster parents holding babies writhing around detoxing. Please he...

A little over a year ago I was busted. All the hurt, the pain and everything that I tried to navigate on my own came unhinged. A few words from someone that verified what I had feared all my life, That I was not wanted.  And suddenly I was spiraling. My pieces were scattered all over the floor  And this time, no matter how he tried, Douglas could not try and pick them up and place them back together. Douglas was working with a woman that is a licensed therapist and he reached out to her for contacts. For years we talked about my need for counseling, but there were two major excuses, money + time.  It no longer mattered. I still tried to say the excuses but at this point those were beyond lame and the need was far greater than the excuses. And then one day I drove 15 minutes down 71 and to a little white office and waited to talk to a woman I had never met. And we talked. And the next week we talked. And the following. Suddenly things were getting really hard....

What does it mean to be a daughter of God? And how does one who has forever struggled with a father relationship supposed to walk this out? Here's what I know. Earthly fathers are sinners. Like me. And like you. I have to constantly bring it back to that. God is not a sinner. My dad is a sinner. And Mike. And Bill. And Dave. All these men that have been in my life. One that helped give me life. One that was abusive and turned our lives upside down. One who I know actually loves my mama. And one I got as a bonus father (in law) And here's what I know. Everyone has scared me. Men scare me. All. Every. It doesn't matter who they are. Their past & current will never change how I feel. I walk life scared if I'm alone in an elevator with just a man or in an aisle at Kroger. I'm scared if anyone walks up behind me, but men raise that terror to a whole other level. And then there's God. This being who is to love me wholly. Who I should wan...

No one is talking about it. What motherhood looks like once your kids get past kindergarten. Because it definitely doesn't get easier. I wouldn't say harder either. Actually yes, in some ways it does. But hello full nights sleep....mostly. What people aren't talking about are things like big feelings for other people and kids throwing your own junk in your face and eye rolling and angsty-ness and hurt feelings and friend conflicts you must avoid getting involved in at all costs and the parents of the friends and teachers who you don't feel are the best fit for your child....... And I feel like that's just the very tip of it. Because my two oldest are eleven, we haven't even hit puberty yet. And I feel like most parents aren't talking about it because they are being good, loyal parents and protecting their kids stories from the world. Kudos to you. But for those of you, who like me, feel like you're floundering in this world of wanting your...

This is the part where I tell you, honestly, I went through loss again. The same loss in a way and different yet at the same time. I knew in my head how unlikely Z would come back to us. I really understood in my head, because I know how the system works, but in my heart she's my daughter, in my heart she belongs with us. But that's not how things played out. Instead she is with a couple from my home town. I imagined squeezing an extra bed in Addison's room. I imagined re-figuring my life to adjust to a three year old again. But instead I walk around pretty fragile. This time is different though. A year ago I tried so damn hard to speed up the grieving process. I felt so guilty when I couldn't hold it together for my family. And I felt so guilty when seeing toddlers was just too much for me. I just felt so much guilt for the hurt I was enduring. This time, I'm processing healthier. I have a husband + community of women who are speaking life into me, who are giving m...

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I ma the light of the world." Having said this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with saliva and put it on the man's eyes. "Go," he told him, "wash in the the Pool of Siloam." So the man went and washed and came home seeing. Sometimes we look at Jesus as just this sweet man who took the task of going to the cross for us, but it's so much more. Here Jesus is not acting as a peace-keeper, but a peace-maker. He was making peace in this man's life and showing His disciples that we don't walk around carrying our sin...

“ Write hard and clear about what hurts ” -Ernest Hemingway Lack of control. That’s what hurts. When we choose to make hard decisions. Those decisions that no matter the decision, it somehow still feels all sorts of wrong. And then people will react to your hard decision like you grew ten heads that was going to attack them. That’s what hurts. Lack of control. That’s what hurts. When a child gets removed from your home. Placed in kinship. And then heads back into foster care and you are not the first option. That’s what hurts. Lack of control. That’s what hurts. When life just keeps happening. People don’t talk about “life happening” in a joyous way But in an I’m tired and feel just over it kind of way The kind where every day feels heavy. That’s what hurts Lack of control That’s what hurts When I can’t form my children into what I want Because fear gets to me And being able to see farther is not a human concept That’s what...

Today is your third birthday. My heart feels heavy. In your short three years of life you have been in three different homes and will be headed to a fourth. Four different ways of life. Four different sets of people. I had so much hope that by today we would be celebrating you in our new home.  That they would have placed you with us. Because why wouldn't they? We bonded with you and you bonded with us. We stayed in contact with you after you were removed from our home. You still call us mommy and daddy. But what makes sense to us isn't how children services feels is what is best. Because we had to make the incredibly hard decision to not say yes to your brother, we are not chosen for your forever. Instead you will move (that's how it's looking right now) to another new family in the hometown I grew up in. Literally of all the cities and towns in Ohio, it has to be this one. I will never stop looking for you when I go And my heart will break e...

Eventually the adoption worker saw she would not be able to place all four siblings together. So the plan became the two older would go back to their previous foster home and we were given an ultimatum. We could adopt Z if we would also adopt her brother. I will not go into details but we had to make a really hard decision. We knew before even talking about it that we could not say yes to him just to get her back. That is not fair to us, to him, to our children and to our family. We would not be ultimatum-ed into doing something if we could not give a full yes. We read his referral. And spoke to his therapist. And had a visit. We went into this knowing this could very likely be the last time we see our precious baby.      (people get real up in words -- when I say our baby, yes I know she's not technically in any       form "ours" but in our hearts she has always been ours) The weekend was a weekend full of allllll the things, feelings wise. I...

We had three people who really helped us during this time. My father in law. Mother in law. And Doug's grandma/Nini. We were getting what usually takes six months done in 3 1/2 weeks. We ended up sharing our story several times with newbie foster parents. Gosh, there's something so pure.  Nope. It's not pure ---- it's naive about newbie foster parents. We were there once too. Sat in those classes ready to save the world. Not only were we trying to get these classes done but we are in the middle of a home renovation.  To say life was hectic feels very much like an understatement.  Earlier in the year, after Z left Douglas felt our word was endure. It wasn't just about living after she left, we also were driving Alex to a private school that was quite far from our previous house. Once we moved into our new house I thought our season of enduring was over But, I was obviously wrong thinking that. It seemed like it was somehow a...

On August 29th my best friend, Cassie, came to give Addison doughnuts before school and then we headed to Ikea. There is nothing better than being with your best friend in Ikea on a Tuesday. It's a known thing, that if I go with you to Ikea on a weekend that I really truly love you. But a Tuesday is the best. I had a great time with Cassie and her kids. I was feeling so light and full from our time together. And then I got a text that would flip my current plans and expectations. Her aunt let me know that she would not be adopting Z and the three other siblings living with her. As soon as I read that text I lost it. Like ugly cry lost it. I felt so confused. And immediately ready to do whatever we had to do to get our precious Z baby back into our home. Our foster care license had closed in July so what were we to do. We tried to request kinship. Nope. Not doing that. Then we decided to do the crazy thing. Be super crazy and start pre service classes again. See when you...

Communication started back up. And I was invited to their home. I was terrified. I was honest, how am I supposed to not be mom but be like an aunt. How could I do that. We started meeting up with all the kids. I kept encouraging. Mothers Day just about killed me. I put on all the brave face I could. I kept reminding myself how lucky I was with the three kids that I birthed, but she was missing. She wasn't with me. I sent her aunt a mother's day text because no matter how much I hurt, she was the one caring for Z, she was the one loving her. She was the one dealing with her added trauma. Every time after a visit my heart fell apart. Everything hurt. Everything felt wrong. And I cried a lot. This girl, the loss of her was so heavy, but I had to face that this was how life was now. That the time she had with us was special but it was over. Or was it?

Part six is where I tell you I got over it quickly and life became sunshine and unicorns. Except I'd be lying if I told you that. Days that I didn't cry felt like I accomplished something truly hard. The little things would bring tears. Like the space in the room she once slept in. Her and Addison shared a room. Some days I couldn't even walk in there. It felt so empty, so bare. It hurt. But what truly made it hard was Addison. She struggled sleeping. Her aunt didn't want to kick us out of the picture so her and Z and then Doug, Addison and me met up for lunch. Z just wanted me to hold her and sobbed when it was time to go. Her aunt and I kept communicating and it hurt with every fiber of my being, but I tried my best to encourage her. And then silence. One day the communication ended. I sent her a text letting her know that if it was too hard for Z to see us I understood if she wanted to end us seeing her but to just let me know. Nothing. On Christmas day...

We packed up the caseworkers car. We gave her some of her favorite things. We said good bye and we all cried. And then we jumped in our car and drove to my mom's in Pennsylvania. Breathing felt heavy and wrong. The world was still spinning while my life had just been torn apart. The moment she left I had decided if I can't be her mom, I will support her aunt the best way I can. That though felt like a knife slowly pushing through my chest. I'm supposed to be her mom. I could still hear her voice saying mama and feel the way she would lay on my shoulder. I could still smell her breathe and feel the texture of her hair. My life as I knew it was shattered. How do you come back from shattered? Here's what I know. You don't come back. The old you is gone. Once your heart breaks from loss, no matter that loss it changes you. No matter your heartbreak it's ok to know the old you is gone and now there's a new you. I felt like a shell of myself. On...