DONE!!!

We have finally finished our 10 weeks STARS Training class for our Foster Care License.  The amount of knowledge that has been bestowed up on us has been great and the amount of wisdom that we have gained about parenting has been humongous.  People have said I am a good parent.  I don’t know about that, but if it’s true, I should be a fantastic one now.  I have learned more about parenting and dealing with difficult kids more in 10 weeks than I have learned in 12 years as a Juvenile Corrections Officer. 

I thought it would be good to come up with a “TOP 5 things that I learned while going through Foster Care classes”…

#5  Every time you learn a new way to deal with a difficult behavior, your own kids may exhibit the behavior as a test to see if you really learned it.

#4  Hearing stories about how difficult other kids can be makes your own children seem like angels.

#3  Doing things for your children and taking your kids for ice cream or treating them for no other reason than the fact that they are your kids and you love them teaches your kids the invaluable lesson that you love them no matter what.

#2  Getting kids to “buy in” and think that they have the answer to a problem is much more effective than you giving them the answer and making them follow your directions.

#1  Even if God chooses not to keep a child in my care after pouring my life into theirs for hours and days on end, I will know that at least the child will know what it is like to be loved and that my heart will break even if no one else’s does.  

Sometimes I fear that when people read these blogs that it comes off that I am better than everyone else and have all the answers.  Believe me, that is not the case.  As a matter of fact, I share these things so that everyone can learn what I have been learning.  So that everyone can benefit including me.  Please comment below if there is something you would like to add to our “Top 5”.  I need all the help I can get. 

Update:  Just so you may be praying for us or willing to help, we are in the process of building a bedroom and bathroom in our downstairs to make the living situation better in our current home.  We also will be building a fence in our back yard to make it much safer for children’s play.  Please let me know if you have resources or willing to help in our endeavor.  This may be a great way for you to help in “our story” when you may not know a way to support or have been called to do foster care on your own. 

“Life is not fair, and then you die”

What makes me comfortable?  I love the cool weather and putting on jeans, thick socks and a hoodie.  I love sitting around a camp fire that is just a little too big.  I love feeling a part when the Royals when a baseball game.  I love eating Country Fried Steak, Mashed Potatoes w/gravy, Corn, and Mac n’ cheese at Cracker Barrel when the fire is stoked.  I love hanging out and playing catch with my brothers.  I love meeting with my pastors every Monday.  I love dates with my wife.  I love eating dinner with my wife and girls.  I love going to soccer games and being a fan of my daughters.  I love being “Daddy”.  I can think of a million things that make me comfortable.  There is one thing on Earth that I don’t like…Being Uncomfortable.

Since accepting the call to become a Foster/Adoptive parent it seems as though life has just become very uncomfortable.  We continue to question what God has really called us to do.  We wonder why God would pick us to do such difficult yet sometimes rewarding tasks.  We spend hours on end preparing our home and our children for what may come our way.  We are taking one night away from parenting our own children just to learn how to be parents.  Hmm, that doesn’t seem right, but it is.  We are signing up for the State of Missouri to watch us instead of let us be?  How weird is that?  My wife and I sit around and talk about how it all just seems to not add up.  Then, I always remember that verse in the bible that says God only has plans to prosper us not to harm us. 

I don’t exactly think this process will harm us, I more just wonder “why us”.  I don’t even see myself as this person that has the capability to do such a thing.  I tend to want to stay inside my Comfort Zone.  Don’t most people?  The words themselves make us comfortable don’t they?  Well, I guess when the comfort zone comes up in church everyone gets a little shifty in their chairs.  I have heard many things about our comfort zones but my wife reminded me of something about them lately.  It goes something like this… “Comfort equals accepting the status quo.  If you don’t aspire to anything more, then go ahead and be comfortable.   Uncomfortable leads to growth.  It’s scary and may be painful, but pain is temporary.  Your achievements are forever.”

With those kinds of words it sounds like going outside of our comfort zones allows us to really be rewarded.  I’m a tough guy.  I can handle a little bit of pain, right?  My dad used to say “Life is not fair, and then you die”.  That says a lot.  Is it fair that children are out there suffering from abuse, neglect or not getting the things that they need?  Is it fair that I have to leave the comfort of my lifestyle with my biological children and bring who-knows-what into it?  Is it fair that we can live life to its fullest, doing what we want when we want it when there are others that can’t even do it on their own?  Nope, Nope and NOPE!  We have to do what we can to help the ones that can’t.  We have to go outside our comfort zones to grow.  We have to trust that God knows what he is doing.  I can’t do it alone.  My wife can’t do it alone.  You can’t do it alone.   We HAVE to go outside our comfort zones.

So whether it is being wearing a full suit on a 100 degree day in the humidity filled, nasty, Kansas City air on your way to a job interview or becoming a foster/adoptive parent, just know that you are not the only one being uncomfortable.  Uncomfortable is only temporary, until you become comfortable with it.  Step outside your comfort zone and grow.  Grow as a person, a mom, a dad, or a/n (insert job title here).  Just grow.

One of my favorite things

I love to look at this everytime I leave the bedroom. My girls put this up a couple Fathers Days ago. It makes me feel good that they think of me often. They are great girls.

Seconds please...

As my brothers, dad, and I were walking through Bannister Mall about 25 years ago my dad says “OK boys, who wants a cookie?”  My brothers aptly answer with an in-unison “I do”.  I, being the youngest, ask “Can I have two?”  As you can imagine my brothers immediately looked at me with ire and flames in their eyes as my dad replied “I guess since your brother thinks he should have two then everyone will have NONE.”  Oh crap!!  Both my brothers leaned over toward me and stick their fists in my gut.  They were so mad.  I ruined their chance of having a piece of Mrs. Field’s mall cookie heaven in their grasp.  Of course I begged and begged that my dad change his mind if for no other reason so that I could live to see the next day.  My dad held firm.  I still have never lived it down.

As you can tell, no matter the bruises that were induced, my brothers let me live.  They gave me a second chance.  Second chances are how we grow.  I learned in a quick moment of cookie loss that I should stop asking for more than what is provided.  Several years later my dad asked a similar question and my answer was quite different and we all got to enjoy a treat.  My dad knew that the second chance that he could provide would mean more to me now than ever.

As I grew older and into my teen years I started to lose my appreciation for the small things in life (like a cookie or an ice cream cone) and started taking advantage of my parents and my education.  I went off to a local community college and halfway through my second semester I dropped out.  I began to work full time; I moved into an apartment with some buddies and started down the road to life-with-nothing.  I began to run with the wrong guys and smoke and drink the wrong things.  My life was headed down the road that I never thought I would get off of.  It didn’t take but a few months to realize that the choices that I had made had landed me deep in despair and without relationships.  I had broken a lot of ties with family, I had no money to pay for gas to get to work and I just flat lost.  I mustered up some courage to ask for some help from my parents.  I think they were a little reluctant but just wanted me to be “okay” again.  I asked my dad to allow me to close the lease on my apartment and kick my so-called-buddies out.  It left me with a hefty payout and a $1600 phone sex bill that my roommates racked up as I was staying closer to work.  It all was in my name.  I paid out over the course of the next 3-6 months over $3000 to my dad for bailing my out of the situation.  I moved back in with my parents and paid minimal rent while continuing to work and give every dime I made to my parents for the payoff.

I got my act together and asked my parents what my options were if I went back to school.  At this time they informed me that I could go back to the community college where I started and work my way toward going to MidAmerica Nazarene University.  That is what I needed.  I needed a chance.  No matter how long it took, I was in for the haul.  I needed my life back.

Just a few days after the New Year my mom came and offered me the chance to go to MNU without having to prove myself.  She had given me a second chance.  I did not have to prove myself and I was given grace.  I can’t explain why, they just gave it to me.  I think that parents know, sometimes, when their kids need a second chance.

So whether you learn from an incident like the cookie debacle and get a second chance to redeem yourself to make the family happy or you fall on your face in life and those around you pick you up and with lots of grace push you to get going again remember; in life we need second chances.  Offer second chances to those around you and ask for second chances when you need them.     

Even Hot Dogs and Creeping Pinkies Deserve It

“You could put a cinder block in the middle of the room with those boys and they could tear it plumb apart” is what my Pa (grandfather) used to say about me and my 21 month older brother, Mike.  We would fight about anything.  Mike could say that the kool-aid was red and just to be opposite I would say it was blue.  I would tell him to turn right and he would turn left just to spite me.  We would tell each other not to cross the imaginary line drawn between us in the car on our family vacation and we would indefinitely put our pinky finger across it.  I would craft a beautiful, tasty sandwich and just as I was putting the parts away in the fridge Mike would stick his thumb right through it and scream “Doy?”  We even got into a chasing match around the kitchen while making lunch and Mike picked up my mustard covered hot dog and threw it 10 feet across the room just to slap it against my early developed, 13 year old hairy chest.  The one thing that makes all of these memories stick out to me now is that we always made up.  We may have hated each other for the time being or truly despised the other at other times but we always offered forgiveness and started clean for the next bout.  We love and enjoy each other now more than ever. 

Last night we were packing up to leave a friends house when my 6 year old, Jayden, came to me with a pouty- yet- mean face and I asked her what was going on.  She said that she and her friend were fighting.  I told her that I understood but we needed to be cordial and tell her friend “Thank you” for letting us come play.  She glared at me and shook her head…”I don’t wanna”.  I told her again that I understood her feelings but she needed to “be the bigger girl and tell her thank you”.  She turned reluctantly and did as I asked but stomping away.  I called out to her “do it with a good attitude or it wont mean anything”.  She walked softer and disappeared into the bedroom of her little friend.  I heard some whispering but no crying or yelps from blows being taken.  I waited expectantly for her to emerge with crossed arms and a pouting face but I was quite surprised.  She came out hand in hand with her friend, both gleaming with joy that their problems were behind them.  I asked if everything was okay and they giggled and hugged to show me their new found friendship. 

I learn from watching my girls and through memories of my brothers that forgiving and being forgiven is paramount in our relationships.  Sometimes it isn’t easy and sometimes we fight it and forgive even though we really don’t want to.  But most of the time we come out of it even happier than we were before the problem even arose.  Especially when the laughter erupts when a hot dog splatters on your chest.

Still In Love

           Today, I find myself thinking a lot about my wife.  I think she is on my mind today because I miss her.  Life has been full lately.  We do see each other each day but quality time spent together has been at a minimum.  That seems to be a common theme in most “married-with-children” lives.  We spend a lot of time taking kids to soccer practice/games, attending meetings for church/work/school, and any gamut of other things.  We do eat dinner together every night as a family which I value.  She has been quite stressed lately due to work issues, lack of sleep from the never-ending bark of the two pups next door, and not to mention foster care classes and preparation to bring more children into our home.  But, she always seems to make it all work out.  She always puts the pieces together like they were meant to be.

 I have a vague memory of when I first met her at MidAmerica Nazarene University.  She was playing “powder-puff football” on the team my roommate coached.  She would stand around in the huddle across from me just as uninterested as I was to be there.  She did it for her friends.  Little did either of us know that we would end up together someday.  The next time I saw her was on an open dorms night when I asked her and some others where a particular girl’s room was so that I could leave a note and rose in their room to ask them on a date.  Christina was the one who personally escorted me to the room and went as far as to let me in the room to leave the rose.  I remember going back to my room that night and asking Adam (my roommate) what he knew or thought of Christina.  His answer was pretty generic “I think she’s cool, ask her out you big dummy”.  With much anxiety I followed his suggestion, however I felt quite childish in my asking her friends to set the table for me.  When I finally called her and asked her out the answer she gave was a strong and resounding “maybe?”.  What?  All that anxiety and all I get is a “maybe”.  She is the type that forces you to work to get to know her.  She knows your commitment level before you do sometimes.

We finally went out on our first (double) date with my roommate and his way-better half.  We went to Houston’s Restaurant and went ice skating at an indoor ice chateau followed by a movie at my parent’s home.  The date went as expected…minimal conversation, anxiety, chasing one another while skating and finally some entertainment where we could just relax and um…not talk.  On the way home we got stopped at a railroad track and while stopped I turned to her and put the pressure on.  I told her my intentions were to date her and become romantically involved.  Most specifically she would tell you my words were “I’m not looking to be friends, I have enough friends”.  I think it shocked her but at the same time she understood my words.  I think it is where she fell hard for me.  She knew I was direct.  She knew she would never struggle to know my stance on things.  I think it is what she liked most about me.  Now, after dating for 2 ½ years and being married for almost 13 it may be the thing she likes the least. 

The love that I started for her way back then is still alive for her today.  I am still anxious to see her when I get home each day.  Greeted by a hug, I sit down and nod off as she explains the smell of poop and potpourri (from the in home day care) or what she heard on “The View” today.  The nap is never intentional and I care for her and her thoughts deeply.  She is my favorite person in the world.  She has produced 2 fantastic children, has followed her calls from God in life, and has loved me at some very unloving times.  She is a great mom and a great wife and I am still in love.

Am I A Good Parent?

Have you ever wondered what it is like to consider yourself a “good parent”?  Most of us wander our days in a flustered state of crazy, unending chaos starting with waking up on time to get the kids dressed and clean enough to put on a façade to the rest of the world as we juggle school, church, school programs and fundraisers, soccer, art, doctors appointments, and more soccer.  We sit down at the end of the day frustrated that we haven’t caught up with life, that we don’t spend enough time with our kids, or can’t handle our own kids behaviors much less someone else’s kids, and that life “just isn’t fun anymore”. 

Do you ever wonder how you are doing?  Or do you just sit back and assume you are no different than any other crazy, running around like a chicken with their head cutoff parent.  Maybe you aren’t even a parent but worry what it will look like someday.  Well, as most of you know my wife and I are going thru some Adoptive/Foster Care classes and it has really put some things into perspective for me.  I am a better parent than I thought I was.  As I sit and relationship build (talk) with friends around me or share what is going on in my life I tend to share struggles or ideas of how I/others could improve our lives with our kids.  What has come at me lately has been people telling me “You are a good parent” or “that is a great idea” or even most recently a friend came to me and said she brags to her mother about the great ideas that I have and how much she respects my way of parenting.  It means so much to me that others see that in me.  It is encouraging to hear that from others.  Sometimes it is so hard to believe. 

Now I wonder, if others see me as a good parent then what is it that keeps me from seeing it?  Am I good parent because I am firm, fair and consistent?  Is it because I am doing my best to bring up my girls to be believers in themselves and to trust in God during the good and bad?  Is it because my wife and I share all things in honesty with our children (sometimes even the gruesome details) and prepare them for the world that seems as though it is out to get them?  Maybe because I show them love beyond their beauty and intellect.  Possibly people see a passion for “rightness” in my heart.  I do know this…regardless of all of these things that people tell me I do so right I think the answer is back to the beginning of this post.  Is it because I am constantly wondering if I am a good parent?   Because I can juggle life at its hairiest?  Because I care about how well I parent?  Most of all I think it’s because I know I am not perfect.  I recognize that I “can’t” sometimes.  Or that “it’s hard”.  There is a certain humility that we, as parents, go though.  We need each other. We need encouraging words when things seem to “suck”.  We need ideas and support. 

Don’t just settle for being the parent you think everyone else is.  Be the parent that strives to be better.  Don’t give up when things get hard.  Don’t run away and seek “fun”.  Love, be firm, and face the facts.  None of us are perfect.