What Do I Look Like

I'm the first one up each morning, trying to have a little quiet time before I awaken everyone at 6:30.  I don't go back to my room until they've all gone for school and then it's only to brush my teeth and make sure my DVR is set to tape so I can see what the outside world holds.

Glancing back, I make sure it's totally cleaned up, as I wanna go about my day, knowing it is so.  It's the only environment I feel I can control.

I want my long kitchen counter totally cleaned off, the living room and family room completely picked up, decluttered and stream-lined, nearly minimalistic nowadays, as well as the dining room which isn't so right now, as I'm drying some heirloom pimento pepper seeds on the table, dreaming about a day when I'll devote an entire empty bedroom to seed saving.  The tin bucket is the cheerleading snack reminder - it's my turn to fill it for the girls.  Should I fill it full of bell peppers?  Just kidding, I'll do as I'm told.

I've gotten rid of everything in this room except for two sofas and all my plants.  I see Jack's nerf gun over there.

I've already resentfully cleaned out the van of soccer snacks, cleats, socks, shirts, shorts, and jerseys this morning, even spoons and bowls.  I've let Chuy drive us to soccer so I could eat on the way, so out of time each evening because I do not wanna come home to a sink of supper dishes, trying to get it all washed up before we go, which cuts into my sit down time, a time I'm increasingly enjoying as Grandma's been joining us each evening.

Sabrina has a followup dental appointment, it's Dr. Mandy day.  I swear I should either tape the sessions or take notes as she so gets it, so completely understands the trauma world, and teaches me so much.  I'm old enough to be her mom, I have several kids older than her, yet she's a fount of wisdom.

I seriously only trust her, Emily, Sarah and Yolie as my confidants.  Yolie with a Master's Degree in Social Work, Emily with her sixth year degree in it plus her Masters Degree and her baptism by fire since she adopted older kids too. Dr. Mandy with a PhD, and Sarah, also educated, but with almost 40 years of knowing me and every single nuance, word and mood.  And Grandma, who's known me more'n 58 years yet still puts up with my goofiness and shenanigans.

Nah, I also trust my pastors, some very dear friends, and some ladies of the church as well.  I should strike that 'only' description as I am abundantly blessed by some excellent counsel, wisdom and emotional support

I was with a lady last night at church who'd noticed I'd used the word 'recluse' to describe myself on Facebook and she expressed how she felt exactly the same. "We have few friends," she began. With a blended family that includes 9 kids, most of 'em grown, she prefers spending time mainly with her family.  "But,"she added, "isn't that what we're supposed to do?"

She's so right.  I thought about it all evening.

There's no one I'd rather be at a Braves game with more'n my son, Daniel, who listens to SportsTalk 680 and spouts off fascinating stats and info.  I'd much rather plop my happy butt down in the yard with Sarah and Yolie, and most of my other daughters, and have us watch their children frolic on the trampoline, swings, and in the meadow.

So how reclusive can one be with 39 kids?  I'm also very excited to soon see my handsome son, Jesse.

I'm just having a Pity Party sometimes, wanting to lick my wounds, and gripe about being misunderstood, and so wrongly, rudely criticized by those who wouldn't do what I've chosen to do.  Or even deeply hurt by lies told about me from those who are raging out in the world.  I have no defense against lies, and it grieves me deeply.  It's certainly predictable.  I should grow some thicker skin I suppose.  But integrity is all I have and to have it threatened by lies really, really hurts me.

Sarah'd sent me an interesting quote she'd read last night, and we'll discuss it into infinity as we think so identically on almost every single issue.  Another son, now paroled, was texting me, another grown kid just out of jail had called, and although this isn't how I'd envisioned it all turning out almost 30 years ago when I began the onerous adoption paperwork process, this is what God called me to do.

"Are you positive you've heard from God?" my friend, Sharon, questioned my then very young self in the church parking lot all those years ago, I was barely 30 years old and was expressing my interest in the adoption of older children.

I looked across the church fellowship hall at her last night, remembering our conversation, and thinking of all that's transpired since then.  She has four grown children, she's one of 13 children, and life's taken its toll on us both...and on everyone else.

Oh me, oh my.  I'm still absolutely certain that I heard from God, still positive that I adopted exactly who He wanted me to adopt, even though on the surface it might not seem to be so,

One entire sibling group appears to not have listened to a single word I ever said, they've not heeded one piece of advice.  "I think I just annoyed them," I told Yolie yesterday, "What with my old school, old fashioned, Biblical, conservative, prudish morals and suggestions."

But who knows?  I'm likely the only such strait-laced counsel they'll ever encounter, I can only hope that some of it sunk in somehow along the way.

Another sibling group completely bombed out of my house, all but one.  I remember the book, The Unlit Path, that I recommend to EVERYONE. Their one sibling group bombed disastrously.  At least I know I've also had successes in my other sibling groups.  That husband and wife author team did not fail.  They did exactly what they should've done, I wouldn't even call it a cautionary tale as much as a reality story that it truly is, as heart-breaking as it was to them.

They did what they were called to do.

That's all we can do.

Keep on getting up and doing it, taking phone calls or going to visit those that've made some wrong choices.  I clearly will not enable anyone, but I do need to express my emotional support.  A love the sinner, hate the sin moment.  I can love them, care deeply for them, while not always liking what they've done...and maybe are still doing.  I disapprove heartily of drugs and alcohol, or immoral behavior, of victimizing people, of not paying one's bills, and several other negative behaviors.  Sometimes I have to maintain an emotional distance.