Little Sister and the tornado

This morning, on the way to day camp, Little Sister asked, "Mommy, can tornadoes suck us up?" It took me a minute to figure out what it was she was asking, but when it clicked, I told her, "Yeah I believe they can if you are standing right underneath or in front of one, but mostly people just hide from them until they pass. Why do you ask?" She got quiet for a second and then finally said in a soft tone of voice, "Well because I don't want a tornado to suck me up and take me away from my new mommy and daddy." My heart sank as I reassured her that she is going to be ours forever, and that no one will ever take her away again. I'm sure my words helped some, but reality is, she has been "swept away" more times in her life than a five year old should have, so that is something she has come to expect and dread. I don't think people realize just how devastating that really is to a child; her unintended metaphor was spot on, actually. Think of the clips you see on the news after a big tornado plowed through a city; homes leveled, families displaced, and nothing left but remnants of where neighborhoods use to be. That's almost exactly what happens to a child's world when they are removed from the birth parents. Even though it may have been a terrible home where horrible things happened, that's still all they know, and there is some comfort in knowing your surroundings. In the past, as soon as she got comfortable, as soon as she settled in and began to love the new people in her life, there she is again, in the backseat of a caseworkers car with her few belongings in bags, headed to the next house. Each new place with new rooms, new people, new smells, new food, new routine's, and new rules, overloading her little mind as her heart aches for the last familiar place she called home; over and over again. As many disappointments as she has faced in five short years, I'm surprised she's not just a shell of a child. I'm surprised she still has the ability to smile and find laughter in the world, as dark as hers has been, but that's a Little Sister for you. She is a beautiful child with a beautiful heart that is eager to please, doing whatever she can so that she doesn't get sucked up and taken away again. It's so sad that a system that was designed to protect these children has hurt them instead; yet I realize it's almost unavoidable at times. But I thank God she's here with us, now. We are her forever, and she is ours.

Little Boy's pain

Little Boy just woke up crying his eyes out. I got him out of bed and he stated that his foot was hurting, but I could tell that it was about much more than just his foot, because he was completely grief stricken. However, I got some oils and told him he was in good hands, because taking pain away is what I do for a living. I applied the oils, started massaging his foot, and he stopped crying almost immediately. I asked him if he had a bad dream and he said 'no,' so I obliged his wishes not to press further as he got quiet. A few seconds later, he said, "My feet and legs use to hurt at my old house. Where my bio mom lives." So I asked him to tell me more and he just said, "I don't know why. Probably when I got hit by that car, because my legs got hurt." I told him, "That makes sense. But I think your foot just needed a little bit of love tonight, what do you think?" He smiled sweetly and nodded his head in agreement. After about five minutes, I gave his feet a stretch and worked on his toes and lower legs and asked him if he was hurting anymore, he smiled and said they didn't, so I hugged him, whispered a quick prayer over him, and had him go back to bed.

It's times like these I am honored to not just be a mother, but one who specializes in mothering hurting children. I believe I was made for this! My grown up heart can't fathom the pain his little heart feels, being treated so poorly, and then being taken away from everything he has ever known. Yes, it was for his safety, but he doesn't yet realize any of that. All he knows is his heart aches! It aches for safety, aches because of the confusion, and aches ultimately for 'home!' It's unfortunate that the place he longs so much for doesn't even exist, though. That place is nothing but a distant memory; one where the gaps and darkness have been replaced with visions of grandeur and imaginary happenings that make home seem like the only place he will find peace and happiness. And I can't blame him, either. Who wants to swallow the bitter pill of reality when it hurts that much?! It's such a shame, and he didn't deserve any of it, none of them did. I am so grateful that God put him and his sister's here with us, though. Three more children was not at all what we had in mind, but it has been so much more wonderful than I ever imagined it could be. I mean a total miracle! But that's a whole other story for another time.