Oh, to be a cat.

After a 10 day trip in our new, used van down to Souther California and back, we rush home to prepare for the home visit in two days. Here is my to do list:

1. Cover all outlets.

2. Secure fire screen.

3. Create diaper changing station in baby's room.

4. Put baby's clothes away.

5. Put current family's mountain of clothes away.

6. Have Mike do fire safety check.

7. Do a fire drill with the boys and have them pretend we do it often.

8. Tackle boys' bedroom.

9. Clean my closet.

10. Exercise or owe Aunt Carolyn $5.

11. Find a home for the frog.

12. Get fitted for bridesmaid dress.

13. Get boys' proof of vaccination.

14. Get cat's proof of vaccination.

15. Make fingerprint appointment, as I received notice of FAILURE.

16. Clean my craft area (impossible).
17. Clean Blake's craft area (impossible-er).

18. Baby locks on cupboards.

19. Look for waterproof crib sheet.

20. Volunteer in Blakes' class.

21. Test the monitor bought on e-bay.

22. DEEP CLEAN EVERY SQUARE INCH OF EVERYTHING.

Here, now is a to-do list for Gus, my cat, who also is a member of this family and also has a home visit in two days:

1. Eat.

2. Nap.

3. Poop.

4. Stretch.

5. Repeat.

Oh, to be a cat.

Forecast for Today

Yesterday I went to pick up my brother when he was released from jail. Just me and my 3 year old, a cup of coffee and my truck. The sun was shining and I wore a t-shirt but within seconds it began to pour. "Fitting." I thought. The sun never lasts forever. As I drove I became anxious. I don't like being faced with situations in which I have no idea of what to expect. Uncomfortable things. Things that aren't fun. At least we could talk about the weather. And before I knew it the sun was out again. Rain, sun, rain, sun. About every 5 miles.
It reminded me of a time I was pregnant with my twins. One was thriving and healthy as can be while one had passed away after a 22 week battle and I had no choice but to carry him with me until the delivery date. In the same pregnancy I would prepare a funeral for my sweet baby Carter and the birthday of my healthy, miracle son who wasn't supposed to live. How in the world is one supposed to handle such conflicting emotions simultaneously? I could not think of another time in my life that would come close to the grief and the joy of this time. Again, it was new, uncomfortable, but it was my life and I had no choice but to move forward. I had to take the feelings one at a time. The grief, and then the joy. Just like the Bible says, there is a time to mourn and a time to dance. I could not do both.
So, yesterday is done. My brother is safe and okay for now.
" He loves me so much."
" He's sorry. "
" He will never do that again. "
My head is filled with words that all sound good, and time will tell if he delivers. He is in the middle of a battle for his life and God needs to win, but He can't do it without my brother's help. I will not dwell on this because his situation will not steal my joy and will not keep me from missing the times when the sun comes out.
Today as I was stressfully gathering the boys to get Blake to school the phone rang. IT WAS OUR AGENCY AND WE HAVE A HOME VISIT ON THE 30th!!! These moments come out of nowhere too. And they are unknown, a little bit scary, but very welcome into our lives. After a long wait of not hearing anything, it sounds like we could have a baby in a couple of months! I am dancing and spinning at the thought of this addition to our family. Even though this chapter will in itself be a series of rain and sun, I have been more than ready for it. I just believe that every time I've been through a little bit of rain, it's helped me feel the sun a little bit brighter.
Rain, sun, rain, sun, rain. Well, it's sunny and 80 in my heart today, and nobody can take that away!
Now I gotta go to Harry's Pit Stop and meet a lady from Craigslist to buy a bunch of baby girl clothes. =-)

I totally get it...

I judged you today sir, and I'm sorry. I don't know you. Not your name, age, background info, nothing about you. But the sight of you angered me instantly. I mean, really angered me. It wasn't you exactly, it was what you were pushing. A stroller. And it wasn't just a stroller, for I am in the market for baby strollers right now and am making my list to evaluate and find on craigslist later. But this won't ever make it on my list. Because it was not a stroller for babies. It was a stroller for dogs. (Friends are you sitting down?) A double dog stroller. In it were two very ugly dogs whose tummy hairs touch the ground. They were just being pushed down the street. By you. You and your dogs. With all the tummy hair.
Now don't get me wrong, I am a dog person. Love them, pet them, snuggle them, kiss them, even have a whole other voice on reserve just for them and my cat Gus. Yup, I am a dog person. What gets me going are when people prioritize them over other people, and that's the category I had you in in an instant. "A guy who doesn't care about anything in this world but his dogs" guy. And those people bug me.

But then I got a phone call from my brother. He's in jail for the first and hopefully last time. He wants to know if I still love him...if I will want to see him when he gets out...and he's crying like a baby which is something I'm not used to hearing from an older sibling, being the baby of the crew. This is a new bottom for him and all I can do is pray that he will choose the right path for his life. That's it. There's nothing left for me to do. But this experience does not come without great mixed emotions. Emotions that are hard, deep, real, frightening. And this is not the first time I've experienced these emotions for this individual, and this is one person in my whole sphere of influence....suddenly stroller dog guy, I totally understand you.

I consider my life "easy". I consider my suffering "of later onset". Great childhood, great support system, awesome husband, yadda, yadda, yadda. And some days I want to hide in a closet, throw away phones and computers and any other access to the outside world. If people never talk to me, how then can they hurt me? Right?

This is where the dog thing makes sense...Does a dog forget to call on your birthday? Does a dog show up drunk to your basketball game? Does a dog take your money and spend all you have on his internet gambling problem? Does a dog call you names? Does a dog ignore you? (I'm not talking about cats, I said dog.) Does a dog tell you he doesn't love you anymore? Does a dog hit you and abuse you? Does a dog make you feel insecure or talk about you behind your back? Does a dog call you from jail and ask you if you ever want to see him again...while you're trying to hold it together and be strong to go dye Easter eggs with your kids? No. A dog wouldn't do that. So do you know what I'd do to thank him? Buy him a stroller. And if he had a best friend, I'd buy them a double one. And they'd be the coolest dogs in Washington and I'd take them wherever 22nd Ct. would go. Because they'd be my dogs and they, unlike people, would never hurt me.

So sir, stroll on. You deserve a break from the drama. Whatever may or may not have hurt you in the past cannot hurt you when you are out not-walking your dogs. So as you glide, clear your mind and gather strength to face the future challenges ahead, (one of them being exercising your dogs because you've just pushed them for 10 blocks and they just sat there) because they will come.

As for me, until Mike gets me a dog, I'll be turning to Costco pizza. Also helpful.

Holding on to Hope

Hello friends! This is an Easter skit I wrote two years ago for church. Yup, hard to do but worth it. This year I will do it again for both services, but I think it will be even harder. For this year I find myself in a familiar scenario; with an empty room, waiting for a baby girl. There is a crib on one side and ironically on the other side is a desk. I'm waiting on a system full of needy children while my file sits on a desk somewhere, and my e-mails are unanswered, my crib and my arms sit empty. As time goes by it is harder and harder to trust that my plan will work out, but nothing slaps me in the face harder than my own words written two years ago. I hope you enjoy Easter with your loved ones, those of you with new babies will squeeze them tighter, those of you on couches will find peace and health, and those of you waiting on God or having a hard time believing will just give it their all. He did.

The Empty Room
(Chair in center, box marked “baby’s room”, pink things laying about. Darbi folds baby items and places them in box as she talks to God.)
This isn’t supposed to be my life. It’s not supposed to be anyone’s. After you go through a pregnancy and experience all of the excitement and the miracle of it all you’re supposed to spend a few days in the hospital and come home with a baby.
Why this God? Why me? Why did our little girl have to die? And without a reason? I just don’t understand! I’ve waited my whole life to become a mom and now just weeks away from taking her home with me, she dies. I’ve followed you forever. I’ve read my Bible, I’ve gone to church, I’ve even helped old ladies find what they’re looking for in the grocery store when other people don’t have time to help. You’d think I’d get some kind of extra credit for that or something. And then this happens. I just don’t know where you are. (Sit down)
I mean, I know you’re with me, I know I wouldn’t be able to be standing here if you weren’t. But since you have the power to perform miracles, why couldn’t you save baby Hope? Maybe you’re just too busy. Maybe you’re too far away. Maybe you just don’t understand. (Pause)
You have a Son. What if He…well he also died. A terrible, brutal, pre-planned death that you could have stopped. (Pause) But you didn’t. And you allowed your son to die so that I could live. I guess when I think about it that way it’s hard to expect you to have done something for me that you didn’t even do for yourself. You went through the worst of the worst…watching your son suffer and die WITH THE POWER TO STOP IT…for…me.
Until now I thought becoming a Christian meant signing up for the easy life, but clearly it’s not. I just have so many questions and wish so badly I could get you a cel phone that nobody else could use (and of course it would be Verizon so we’d have unlimited minutes and free texting). But after making it through these last few weeks holding our daughter, saying goodbye, having her funeral, and now packing up her nursery, through the pain I also feel a sense of strength. If you helped me get through this, you can help me get through anything, and I never want to know what life without you is like.
God, I’m sitting in this empty room that was so full of expectation for the life of baby Hope. The sleepless nights, the diaper changes, the lullabies, the books we’d read in this very chair, and for now it’s all on hold. What I want you to know is I’m not giving up on you. If this room is filled with 10 babies some day or a desk with a whole different plan all together down the road, I trust you- but you know I’ll throw another tantrum if you go with the desk option, right? We can do this. I mean, I planned for the room to be filled with baby Hope, but now it’s just full of another kind of hope. And for today, that’s okay. (Sing “It is well with my soul” & put animals & toys in box). AND SCENE =-)

Would you like fries with that?

Guess what? The cat got vaccinated, I passed my CPR test, now we wait for the phone call, we have our home study and we are foster parents!!! Crazy huh?

I am opening my heart yet again to one of lifes biggest blessings and greatest heartaches with the end result of adopting a baby. I've learned that when you're ready to expand your family there really is no option that is the "easy way". There is love involved, therefore the potential to be hurt is also there. Whether it's a pregnancy, a long wait for an international adoption with all of the unknowns, or the route we're going. But this one just feels right to us. In fact the more we learn about foster care, the more we feel ourselves being involved in it long term. The part that makes me nervous is that I am a girl who rarely gets what I've ordered, but I've learned to love onions. Let me explain.

The boys and me...yes I'm a horrible mom for not serving them whole grain organic meals three times a day with all food groups of the pyramid represented. Usually I do. But also we go to McDonalds. Especially when Mike is at work. He's much more health consious than I am...I mean than the boys are. Every time we get the same thing. Three cheeseburgers with NO ONIONS, a small fry to share and water to drink. We use the drive through because while I will let my children digest the chemicals compacted into the cheeseburgers, those playlands gross me out like nothing else. Go figure.

Now, McDonalds seems to really have their heads in the game. Having two lanes that empty into one in the magic drive through, a computerized screen that shows you your order so that they don't mess it up, a robot that does the drinks automatically, even an automatic machine for what they like to call "coffee". What they aren't quite ahead on however is getting my "double checked for accuracy" order right. Onions, almost every time. Yep, it's on the screen NO ONIONS. It's on my recipt NO ONIONS. It's on the order sheet taped to the burgers NO ONIONS. I take a bite...ONIONS. But by this time I'm almost home and they know that since I spent $4 TOTAL on the bill, I am not going to put the effort into driving back to their establishment and requesting a new one or causing a scene. That's why I was in their drive through in the first place...I HAVE NO EFFORT TO GIVE!!

Another Guy I place my order with a lot is God. "Please keep my husband safe," "Please keep my kids healthy," "Please heal Audrey," "Please be with our baby wherever she is," the list goes on and on. Sometimes He gets it right and sometimes He doesn't give me what I ordered. He took my mom away at an early age. He took my first born before she took her first breath. These were both things I certainly did not order. And with each new life change I could kick and scream and demand a new option, getting me nowhere, or I could chill out and learn to like onions. I am a different person because of my suffering. I have a bleeding heart that can reach out to people that I didn't have before I faced what God had on my menu. I have an aunt who is my mom now and that has brought such joy and fun and laughter to my life. How many other people get to be their own cousin? Not many. You're jealous a little bit, aren't you? And I love my kids so, so much BECAUSE their journey here was not easy. A huge reminder not to take such things for granted.

So as we wait for this next baby I look at the pink and brown pack and play I have set up in my room. I pray at night for the baby/ies that will sleep there for however long they will be with us and for the situation they are in right now. The paperwork had me fill in a space for me to place my order and I wrote down "girl under 18 months" knowing full well that almost guarantees me a little black boy over 18 months. That's just how God works. And that's who I see sleeping in my pink pack and play. But you know what? I'm going to teach him to like pink...and I'm going to teach him to like onions.

Please join me on this journey. I can't do it without you!

Get off your buns!

So here's the deal. I was at church Sunday and while listening to the sermon (in between getting gum, making sure my phone was off, asking Mike what we were having for lunch, going to the bathroom, drawing daisies around the border of my program and wondering, "Was I with Lora when she bought Pastor Matthew that shirt? I think I was. Looks new. Looks nice. Was on the rack outside of the nail place. Mike can never fit into a shirt from the big and tall man's store.") I was struck, right between the eyes. Yep, the sermon applied. I HATE IT WHEN IT APPLIES! And I was probably going to cry. I HATE IT WHEN I CRY!!
You see, there has been this huge part of me, or part of us I should say, that we have been handling "the Johnson way". AKA not handling. Mike and I have felt so called to foster parenting and were so gung ho to bring that ministry into our lives, into our home, into our church, and were so on fire for it, and just like many things in life we've let the paperwork give us an excuse to let days, weeks, months go by without making progress in the direction we feel we need to be going in.
All I've had to do for a month now is schedule a first-aid / CPR class and get my cat vaccinated and we'll be pretty much ready to go. But when I get up in the morning and there's laundry to do and dishes to clean and girlfriends to play with...day by day it doesn't get done making me farther and farther away from finishing my goal.
Meanwhile our state (every state) is bursting at the seams for places to put children whose families are not safe for them to be with. These are the children my heart aches for. Bad. And I am not going to let paperwork stand in the way of God using our family to reach out to these children in whatever capacity He wants us to.
So folks, on Sunday I took a stand. No more popcorn and WifeSwap until my paperwork gets done. Friday Gus will get her shots and February 25th I'll become CPR/First Aid/ HIV certified. Nothing else is going to come between what my awesome God has planned for the next chapter of the Johnson household. Hang on tight...it's going to be quite a ride.

Tonight my child sleeps, in a womb or a home.

Are they scared, are they healthy? Sad or alone?

Please Jesus, hold them until my arms can,

and remind me that they too are safe in your plan.

I just wrote this little prayer thinking also of my precious friend Autumn and her Ethiopian baby coming SOON. I love you guys!

Mothers of children beware! Our words can come out anywhere!

I have enjoyed volunteering in Blake's classroom so much. Kindergartners are so fun. Every Wednesday I come home with at least one good story from the day. Blake's teacher is so used to them that she doesn't even laugh anymore. Here are my favorites, and of course the best is saved for last.

Me: "Tanner, what's your middle name?"

Tanner: "Tanner Jones."

Me: "No, that's your last name. Your middle name is between that. Tanner something Jones."

Tanner: "No, I don't have one. "

Me: "Oh, okay."

2 minutes of silence pass. Then he looks at me and says, "Oh I know what it is. When my mom gets mad at me she calls me Tanner Ashton Jones. Is that it?"

Me: "Yep."

Another day Blake's teacher was reading a story to the class about different ways people travel around the world. She was talking about Egypt and how people use Camels there. One little boy raised his hand and with confidence said, "Camels are what they use to make cigarettes." Not quite.

Then there's Blake's buddy Andy (pictured above with Blake). He is a riot. He's the kid who is always saying stories with such excitement, but at the time when he's not supposed to be telling stories, so he's often told to be quiet. Last week after the Inauguration, Blake's teacher asked the class if any of the students had seen any of it on TV. Most of the kids raised their hands. She asked, "Raise your hand if you saw how happy people were to get a new president." The kids could hardly sit in their chairs, they were raising their hands so high.
"Now raise your hand if you saw some people crying tears of joy because they were extra glad that they had a new president. Did anyone see that?" Well, Andy was practically doing back flips because he wanted to talk so badly.
"Ms. Harley," he said as he got out of his chair and stood at attention, "The people who were the happiest were the black people because they never thought they'd see the day that our country would finally be led by a black president! That's what my mom said!" He was so proud.
"That's mostly true Andy," She said. Another girl McKenna was raising her hand very high as well.
"McKenna," Ms. Harley called.

She too stood at attention. "My mom told ME that Mrs. Obama looked pregnant in her dress!"

Ms. Harley didn't even crack a smile. She just patiently explained that was the design of the gown and that she didn't think the Obamas planned to have more children. I, on the other hand, had both hands over my mouth to keep from spitting out the big drink of coffee I had just taken.

It was then I learned that no longer are my words at home safe at home. Anything I say can and will be used against me in the classroom without warning. And I think, no, I KNOW I have already blown it, so the best I can do is pray for Blake to have short term memory problems. Aye, yie, yie!