Another year flies by bringing abundant blessings and significant losses. We receive each new day as a gift from God, realizing more and more how fragile and fleeting life is. In this short year my dearest friend Penny lost her wonderful husband Dom and we lost an irreplaceble friend and mentor in that kind, humble and gentle man. Dom was a Christian man in every sense of the word. As summer came to a close my father Sam lost his battle with Lukemia. Just short of his 85th birthday he went home to the Lord. In as much as his children and grandchildren miss him and mourn his loss, we also rejoice in the lessons he taught us. Legacies in hard work and turning failures into successes and his often modeled service to others are priceless gifts from him. Though we miss him, it is imcomparable to my Mothers loss of a friend and partner of 53 years. However, God's mercy is new each day and much joy has occured amidst the sorrow.

Our joy is in each of our 10 children and life on our small farm. Our Quiver has not grown since last year, our farm has though.The newest members of the Johnson clan are 4 goats, and lots and lots of chickens. 40 of which are either in the freezer or already have been consumed, the rest are going about their business of producing eggs. Our goats are 3 does. A Nubian Saanen cross named Liesl, a Lovely little Alpine named Grettele and a pretty Saanen doe named Snowflake. One lone Saanen buck named Blizzard tends our small herd. Leisl and Grettle were great milkers but are now preparing to Kid some time in Late Feb. or Early March. Milking was an interesting event each day and Molly became our champion milker. The twins are now called The Goat Whisperers as they could easily catch skittsh Grettle to be milked. Hard to catch, but once on the Milk stanchion an easy milker. During our peak in late summer we averaged over a gallon per day.

We can not forget to mention the 3 dogs, a hound/shepherd cross named Pepper, a black Lab mix that was dumped as a tiny puppy on our country road and a Heeler mix named Rosy. We lost our wonderful Heeler, Lucky last Jan when he lost a race with a Log truck. Perhaps Lucky was not the best name for him. Our big, old Black Lab, Smokey went to live with a dear lady in town as Smokey thought perhaps those chickens were meant for him to hunt and kill and eat. Of course due to the feed and hay we have added Barn cats (read HOUSE CATS) to control the mouse population. They do a very good job, however all 4 are pathetically tamed by the children and spend winter nights on various beds in the house. They were named Penny and Dom (Siamese mixes) by Molly and Susie( Molly loved her Uncle Dom and thought naming a cat after him a good memorial, and you can't have a Dom w/o a Penny). Tiger is Jims big Orange Tabby and the baby is a little fluffy gray tabby named She-She by Thomas. I don't think Barn cats normally get dressed in Doll clothes and pushed in a stroller. True to his namesake Dom takes it all and acts as if it is part of his duty. Penny is too busy catching mice and hissing at the dogs to be bothered with such nonsense. Tiger is really just a big love and mothers She-She. Life is pretty good on the Farm for our menagerie.

The children are all active participants in keeping this little farm running. The Twins, Jimmy and Josh, ( now 9) have tamed a few hens and Jimmy ( The Chicken Whisperer) has tamed one hen, aka Henny, to come when he calls and jump on his shoulder. She follows him all over the chicken yard. Josh has "his girls" who of course lay the most beautiful turquoise eggs. All are deathly afraid of The Colonel. A big, nasty Delware Rooster who lives to terrorize them. They now carry a big stick into the chicken yard as The Colonel can be quite vicious if he thinks he can get away with it. Soon he will be stew if he doesn't knock it off.

Both twins seem to revell in farm life and love the animals to distraction. They are worshipped and adored in return by Pepper who follows their every step. Both are good students, but tend to rush lessons to get to more important things like building forts and playing army in the woods. They both have solo piano pieces to play in the Homeschool Groups Christmas program and took a wonderful Art class called Monart which really added to their already strong talent. Still identical in looks and opposites in temperment Josh wants to be an Architect and Jimmy a Veteranarian. Josh thinks Navy Seals looks like fun and Jimmy wants to live in the woods and tame all the wild animals. They are a joy and both 100% boy. They bless us with their wit and antics every day.

Molly (now 8) is still an angel. Dutifully milking the goats and caring for the cats each day. Rarely does she have to be told. More often than not she asks if there is more she can do. She dotes on Jake now 2, and longs for one more baby girl to be added to our crew. She is my right arm and such a sweet, pleasant child. We wonder where she came from and how she landed in this motely crew of boys. Never a whiner or a complainer and ready to share with any sibling. Molly is every brother and sisters friend. A true blessing to us all with her servants heart. School is her challenge, but her work ethic sees her through and she is doing well.

The child who keeps me on my knees, but has the biggest heart is Steve (now 7.) An eager and hard worker like Molly with a never ending desire to do good that sees him through his times when he lacks all control over his impulses. Having FAS is a burden to a little boy who otherwise would sail through life. He is doing amazingly well in school. He is back to being homeschooled this year and I have officially given up on our local Public School. Steven has become a big help to Grandma and spends time with her helping her around the house. Steven is our blessing that taught us we really did NOT know everything about parenting and that even naughty little boys can have wonderfully tender hearts. Humility for parents is a good thing!

Susie (now 6 soon to be7) is one of a kind. A tiny but mighty force to be dealt with. She is learning to be a better helper and less a Princess. She also needs a stage. She loves the attention and accolades and is our resident Thespian by nature. Wuthering Heights, Katherine never suffered as much as Susie does when given a chore she dislikes. She is my one child who can cry on cue. A whiz at school she is reading above grade level and will read for anyone whether asked or not. She does remind me of Kate. Quite a bit actually. She will go somewhere far someday. A clever little thing she can whip up chaos and look the victim without batting an eye. Susie blesses us by keeping us on our toes and OUR wits sharp.

Thomas (now4) is our amazing little man. He is the Poster boy for Autism Spectrum. Smart as anything, he is quick and funny and charming with little effort. Some are taken a back by his stimming and blunt speech. I never feel an explanation is necessary, God makes us all different. To us Thomas is a miracle. A miracle that saw his Atrial Spetal Defect healed and the fact that despite Noonans, and Aspergers and mild Cerebral Palsy he is brilliant and funny and connected and loving. Spoiled could describe him too. But, not spoiled rotten. We all spoil and dote on him. he returns our love 10 fold. He just recovered form having his tonsils Adnoids andT-tubes removed. He was a stoic champ throught it all. Give him some chocolate pudding and he was good to go. Thomas blesses us with the miracle of his life and his joy for living. He makes us all laugh at least once a day and loves each one is such a unique way we all think we are his favorite person. He is with out a doubt a gift from God. Imperfect to the world, and perfect to his family.

Aiden (now3) is becoming his own little person. Sandwiched between showman Thomas and cute-as-a-button Jake he seemed sort of lost. However, he is coming into his own. His language is wonderful considering when he arrived in Oct of 05' he had no language. He is sweet and loving and adores Josh and tends to tag a long when Josh allows it. He has some of Steven's struggles and we pray he also has Steven's strengths. A rough 1st 2 years has made for a bumpy adjustment at first. Now this is home and we are his family. A cute little red-headed boy who just needed a normal life. He is a great little guy with limitless potential. Aiden blesses us with a devotion we neither asked for nor deserve. He simply forgets he has only been here a year and thinks we have always been his Momma and Daddy.

Jake (now2) is a red-headed, dimpled faced force of nature. He can climb anything, dissapear in an instant and dismantle any object. He reminds of Jack-Jack the baby in The Incredibles movie. The minute he is caught red handed he flashes a big grin and those deep, disarming dimples. Healthy as can be and a charter and honored member of The Clean Plate Club. Jake never met a food he did not like. He has also eaten things that are not found on the dietary pyramid. Jake lives for cars and trucks and hopes Santa brings many. Jake blesses us with just existing. His constant ready smile and great cuddling abilities help this Mom and Dad through tough days. A few minutes in the rocker, snuggling with Jake will cure any ones bad mood.

Our grown children are thriving. Kate (27)and Brendan are finishing up their degrees. Kate is looking at Law Schools for next year. We are hoping Gonzaga offers her the best package. We love having them close and would miss them terribly if they moved away for grad schools. I would hate to be the oppossing counsel in any case Kate had. She was born for the opening and closing statement!

Adam (25) and Jess are doing well in distant Minnesota. Adam is finishing up his Masters in Public Policy at The Hubert H. Humphrey School of Public Policy on the U. of Minn campus and will Co-teach a grad class Spring semester. Adam will with out a doubt make a difference in whatever cause he focuses on. He is another with an amazing servants heart. Jess of course is quite successull in her job and just got a new account. Both, however don't plan on making the mid west their permanent home and we all hope they come back to Montana. We miss them.

Jim and I are the same. Busy with raising children and planning out long term goals for Farm and Family. We really hope to have the irrigation system in and a garden and Orchard up and running this spring, along with the beginnings of a shiny new barn. . We are doing some mild remodeling of our home to fit 10 people and all our stuff. Good thing Jim is talented with building. Our 1st project after the new year is to install our wood stove. For some reason this country home had no alternate heat source. We have lost power just a few times, but that was enough to propell us to get a wood stove. One bedroom is becoming the School/Guest room. Downstairs will be the boys dorm along with their own bathroom. Instead of dry wall we used OSB board. 6 Boys and dry wall =holes. I maintain their room should have a cement floor with a drain and we could hose it down occassionally.

 God's mercies are renewed each day, there has been far more joy than sorrow, many more blessings than losses. We have much to be thankfull for as we look at the new year ahead. As I end this letter, my home is quiet and it is early. Even the Roosters have not started their persistent crowing. I praise God in this moment for each event of this last year. What it has taught me and how it has changed me. I do not know what is ahead, but I am certain of Christ's love and His abundant grace in my life. For that alone I am eternally thankfull.

I wish you all a wonderfull and blessed Christmas and New Year. Now that we have a guest room c'mon up for a visit to Ol' McJohnson's farm!

I used to see women in the past, pushing a stroller with an oversized Dev. Delayed child in it, and was secretly glad I was not the mom. I just knew I could not handle it. When 1 cousin had an autistic child and another cousin had a child with a cleft lip and palate my heart went out to them both. Both boys have grown in to brilliant young men. As Jim and I walked the special needs mine field of Foster-Adopt I knew God had His hand on me. It seemed all my babies were healthy and normal. Despite their bio-moms copious drug and alcohol use they all seemed fine.

When Thomas was born with a cleft-palate I thought “Oh it’s not like he’s delayed, I can handle this.” Surgery at 10 mos corrected his palate, but did nothing to increase his very delayed gross motor skills. He did not walk until 2 and still at 4 stumbles as he tries to run. By the time Steven was 1 we began to notice odd and repetitive behaviors. He raged and rocked and threw tantrums that would peel the wall paper. It was also clear that my precious Molly with a servants heart would never work for NASA or likely even go to College. Susie is a passive aggressive wonder in and of herself. Josh is very much large and in charge. Jimmy, well we call him our Human-Poodle. Everything and every change makes him nervous. He cries at least 3 x’s a day. Over nothing or something so insignificant it seems like nothing. At 9 he is still afraid of the dark, will not go in to his room alone etc. Both boys have to hug and kiss me 2 x’s when I leave to run errands. Thomas now 4 is obviously Autistic and happily stims and stutters his way through the day. Steven is now officially FAE and DD. Baby Jake marinated in meth and had it blown in his face the 1^st 4 mos of his life, now is alternately smiling and raging. His brother Aidan is so passive it’s unbelievable.

That view out the window was remarkable. I could simultaneously see their flaws and their beauty. Josh and Steven(normally mortal enemies) were helping Aidan jump on the trampoline. Molly was mothering Thomas and introducing him to his new sensory water table. Jimmy was sitting on the deck with a big dog laying across him and he was reading his Bible. Susie was in the play yard with Jake singing him songs and making him giggle. They fight, they squawl, they whine, they stim, one rocks and bangs his head on his pillow to go to sleep, another spins in circles when something new is introduced. One spreads shampoo all over the bathroom floor when life does not go her way. They are not fearful enough of strangers, they have sleeping and eating issues, they tattle like seasoned tabloid reporters and they make so much noise by 4 pm I have the Mother of all Headaches. God knew exactly what I needed and what I could handle.

My children keep me on my knees, focused on my Heavenly Father. They show me all those initials are just letters and that they are amazing, incredible individuals, fearfully and wonderfully made by God.

I am the mom of 8 children who are by the worlds standards flawed. In Gods eyes and mine they are beautiful and perfect and I am honored that God blessed me with such a family as this.

On any given normal day, (how many normal days do you think we have) I enjoy my children. Really I do. They are blessings and I see them as such. It’s not their fault that they have a neurotic Mama who insists they each be military clean before we go out the door anywhere. I’m certain any of you with more than the 2.3 children know the stares you get as you parade through any public place. I make certain my little ones are shiny and clean and dressed in hole and stain free clothing. I insist on good behavior and well mannered ,clean children in public. OK they are dirty little buggers on our little farm. Still in public I like to think, or rather my pride likes to think they look well groomed and cared for.

This is my mindset as we go out in to the community. “OK stare if you want, but we are all clean and smiling and well SO THERE!” (Quite the godly Christian attitude eh?)Yesterday we ventured in to the big city again. None of us likes the big city, too much of everything. We like our woods and our farm. Off we went to get all the supplies needed for my 4yr olds birthday party. They all piled in the car. I know I washed some faces and oversaw a few teeth being brushed. Got after two 9 year old boys about wearing clean shirts. I saw one had changed. My mind must have shut down at this point. It must have, I’m really looking for viable excuses.

Meandering through the Party Supply store I noticed my 4yo face was full of that “I just ate breakfast” crumby look. OH UGH I never washed HIS face! SIGH. My 19mo old smelled funky! Just funky! The longer we were in the store I began to notice certain things. My7yo was getting goofier by the minute. He is a Fetal Alcohol child and the Party Store was more than his sensory needy body and brain could handle. My strapping, handsome, 9yo, Alpha Male twin was wearing the same green shirt he had worn all weekend. Deep embarrassment here. OK, I’ll pay for this stuff and get out of here. While I was paying Steven(7yo) was popping wheelies with the cart containing the 2 and 4yo’s. They were either squealing with delight or terror. At this point it is all a blur. I promptly found a spot to place him where he began to earnestly pick his nose. ( I will find this all very funny someday, today is not someday). The girl behind the counter gave us one of those. ‘OH ugh I’m so glad I’m childless’ looks. I skulked out of the Party Store.

Before I could dwell on THAT humiliation I found myself in Walmart looking for Birthday Presents for the Birthday Boy and a plastic wading pool for the 1 billion baby chicks that are arriving next tues.

Let me stop here to mention sometimes I understand so clearly why people say I am a glutton for punishment!

So there we all were in Walmart. 1 plump middle aged Mama and 8 less than shiny and clean precious children. After much wrangling and bargaining presents were purchased amid toddler/baby grabbing things off the shelf. All the children walking abreast of me not behind me. We were like a Revolutionary Army Battalion coming down Wal-Mart’s aisle. I kept telling the children “Get behind me” Get behind me” I think at one point it slipped out as “GET THEE BEHIND ME!” All things purchased, including wading pool . Off I skulked again into the parking lot. Now I was so humiliated at how grubby my kids looked and how terribly they behaved that I never even thought that maybe, just maaaybe that stinkin’ pool would not fit in my van.

I’m certain it was quite entertaining to watch my ample rear end sticking out of the back of our 15 passenger van while I yelled, PULL PULL! As if some poor unfortunate soul had the job of getting ME in the van! I will find this funny someday RIGHT?

As if that was not enough to vanquish my Pride in clean well mannered children we had to stop at Costco. By this time the birthday boy had lost his charm and was downright crabby. The 19mo old had green goo running out of his nose (this is where I realized I had no Kleenex) and the 2 yo looked like he would pay me to let him take a nap. We picked up the cake and other things. I just wanted to RUN out of there.

Standing in the checkout line, the twins are in the men’s room, and a lovely lady starts talking to the littlest with the gooey stuff coming out of his nose and some Costco sample crumbs on his cute little face. She of course is older, immaculately groomed and looking at me like “OH ick, those poor poor children, she neglects them so.” The gooey nose guy looked at her, and her oohing and ahhing over him, with the death stare. You know the “You’re not my Mama so do not EVEN touch me.” Birthday Boy was claiming he hated birthdays and today was NOT his birthday. Fortunately the checker found it all amusing and told him what beautiful green eyes you have, He replied with “You’re a stinker!” Where is that hole I can crawl in to? It has to be here somewhere. Lord isn’t this where you come to get your people? Isn’t it about time for the whole rapture thing? As I was writing the check I told my 7yo to go over to the men’s room and get the twins. The poor lady behind me loudly said. “OH MY GO* YOU HAVE TWINS TOO!”

Yes, I sure do! That’s them over there. The one in the beyond filthy green shirt burping the alphabet and the other one chewing a hole in his sweatshirt, at least its clean. Those are my boys. I am so proud!

I did get home. My pride was left somewhere between the Party Store and Costco. Likely it is in the parking lot at Walmart. If you see it, do not send it back. I’m doing fine without it!

It wasn’t until Jesus saved my wretched little soul that my life had any direction . Over the years I have stepped foot into every type of Church. From Charismatic Catholic to Reformed Presbyterian, Several types of Baptist, Calvary Chapels, Mega Churches with Stand Up Comedian Pastors and Little Country Churches with members who are more Church Lady-ish than Dana Carvey’s Saturday Night Live character.

I’ve danced for Jesus, clapped for Him, worn dresses only supposedly in His name, I covered my head, uncovered my head, cut my hair, let it grow long, drank wine, eschewed alcohol, ate meat, didn’t eat meat spoken in tongues, been slain in the Holy Sprit. Namely whatever I thought or was told at the moment was the Christian thing to do. I went the Name it and Claim it route. The Ultra Conservative, Denim Jumper wearing Sister Connie-better-than-you route. (no flames, I’m speaking about myself) All in an effort to be that GOOD Christian. Give me the rules, the path and I’ll follow them to the letter. It was not until recently that it dawned on my over educated and under spiritualized self that there is nothing I can DO.

Nope NADA! Nothing. For I am a sinner and my righteousness is as filthy rags. He has already done it all. I have what I have because of His grace and mercy. What good there is in me is only, I repeat for emphasis ONLY, because of Christ in me. I deserve nothing. Yet, I have everything, because of His mercy and grace. Who am I that He should spend a nano second listening to my prayers. He does, I am awed by His grace and His unconditional love for a not so swell Christian woman.

When my life is over and I am face to face with Him, I will not run up and hug Him, nor will I dance for Him or clap my hands and shout. I believe I will simply lay face down (read; throw myself) on the ground at His feet. Awed, humbled , profoundly thankful and amazed that He cared one wit for a sinner like me.

I am not the dancing and jumping for Jesus type. I am an equal opportunity Christian. If that is what brings you closer to Jesus great! . I am the type who will quietly and persistently witnesses to someone until they give in or we both pass out. As for worship, I prefer finding a quiet spot, bowing my head and closing my eyes . I need quiet and reverence to listen and to praise my Amazing Savior.

If you ever are in one of those gatherings where folks are clapping and shouting and waving for Jesus, and you glance over and there is someone who is quietly praying to their Savior. Don’t worry they know Him just as well as you, they are just praying and praising Him their own way.

God is working in my life. Quietly, carefully, day by day, moment by moment His presence and healing increases. As always my walk with Him is one foot in front of the other. My water is not turned to wine and I don’t see Jesus’s face in my tortillas. I see Him in the face of my children and hear Him in my husbands gentle and kind words. Feel His presence when He leads me to bless my family and not curse them.

Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior. He rescued me, teaches, loves me even when I am incredibly unlovable and is simply the oldest and dearest friend I have. My heart is open, laying in His hands and available for Him to do what He sees fit. To God be the glory!

I am up waaaay too early. Thomas my Noonan’s/Aspergers 3yo woke me at 3:30am. He was playing and having a ball in his room. SIGH Now I cannot go to sleep and I must get the other children going by 6am. Just another day in Paradise. Make me wonder what my life would be like if I had followed a path I headed down 15 years ago. I got very involved in the Feminist movement when I was in College.

Several of us had the experience of seeing what the world thinks of large Home Schooling families. Oreo Souza pointed out a blog by a woman who railed against the Duggar family. Comparing the family to a Sow and a littler of Pigs. I will not share the URL, b/c this poor, little, lost gal has gotten enough attention from it. Against my better judgment, which is how I operate far too often, I jumped in the discussion.

It does not surprise me one bit how ugly and vile many of the posts were. How many hate-filled and shame full and intolerant things were said in attempts to be witty. I have said in the past if women who calls themselves Christian Feminists really knew what was going on amongst the uber-liberal, secular feminists they would run fleeing. Hate, racism, genocide is all their agenda. Those Feminist want women like me and you not only barred from worshipping God, but banned from having children or living in a God given hetero-sexual marriage. It is so right out of the pit of Hell. I saw so much of it when I was in College, that nothing this woman or her posters had to say surprised me. You can respond to them in love all day and they spew hate right back. I had to shake the dust off my sandals and walk away from their very hard hearts. I could no longer cast my pearls before swine. Funny how she used a picture of pigs. How appropriate it turned out to be.

This is the world of today. The word that keeps running across my mind is DIGNITY. Something these liberated women have not only lost themselves but can not tolerate others having it. My heart aches for them. So lost, angry and uninformed and un-educated. I was wondering why I even got involved in the nonsense over on her blog. I know now. I will be praying for a woman named Amy, Mother of 2. May God draw her closer, may he soften her heart. May she surrender her life to His. She can not pray I become a liberal feminist b/c she has no faith. But I can and will pray for her to become a mighty woman of God. May God restore her dignity.

So I face my day, lack of sleep and 3 little boys 3 and under. No matter how my day goes. How much laundry gets done how chaotic grocery shopping with 3 toddlers may be I know my Heavenly Father. In following Him there is dignity, but primarily there is joy. I really do live in Paradise!

Last night my Jim, God Bless him, stayed up all night designing and planning the new coop and brooder house. I think small, maybe a dozen chicks. Jim he’s a big thinker. He wants to start with 50 chicks, ½ a dozen Ducks and Turkeys. He dreams of his Orchard. He really is a very talented gardener. His plans include making jams and jellies and creating Johnson’s Nut and Berry Farm. A cottage industry that would allow him to leave his high stress Postal job and support our family and hopefully our children’s future families as they grow. I will be the maker of jams and jellies and canner. He will be the gardener and teach our children how to care for not only the fowl we will have, and the Cow and pigs. Funny guy, he fantasizes about Kobi beef. Getting a Calf and brushing and massaging it every day and feeding it beer so the beef will be like the Japanese pricey Kobi beef. Funny guy!

So here I sit with my teeny dreams of a few laying hens and a calf per year for beef. The kids can do a pig or 2 for 4-H and one for the freezer. Jim teaches me so much. Nothing is too big, too unattainable. None of the fears of failure that plague me. I am to design the logo for our farm. I am not an artist. But I will. I watched my Mom crush so many of my fathers dreams. I will not do that. Johnson’s Nut and Berry Farm it is. I will keep you updated on our progress! I can hear the them for Green Acres as I write.

Doo Doo Dah Doo Doo Doo Doo. Geeeeennnnn Acres is the place for me………..

I met my dear little OreoSouza when she was quite pregnant with her youngest Abe. She was so kind to even allow us in her home considering I had 6 children at the time and she was so well so pregnant. Shurleen is a very content woman. Self-aware and considering I’m a blubbering fool that wears her heart on her sleeve (and doesn’t that get annoying after a while) I admire that in her.

She is a hippie chick, Lola Granola. Really she kinda is. Dangly earrings, until recently long hair and just exuding the confidence of a woman who loves and is loved by her family. She is careful and thoughtful in who she chooses to be-friend. Me, I feel so glad someone would even be my friend that until age 40 I took what I could get. Often that was not such a good idea. I have to ask myself if I had been so confident in my parents love, my mothers acceptance of me would I be different. Before I can dwell too long there I think… What kind of Mommy am I. I am a walking blind woman when it comes to being a Christian wife and Mommy. I do open the instruction book daily, still some days I can not feel my feet underneath me. Having no older, wiser woman to lean on, it is a lonely walk. I do not want to be like my Mother, God bless her. I want my children to have that deep down, unshakable knowing that they are loved by me, by Christ exactly for who they are. Oh, I want responsible children, kind children, mostly children who love and serve the Lord.

One thing I know, I may never completely feel like I have the world by the tail, but my children will. They may grow up to be blue collar workers, or artists or ? They will know Christ loves them. Their Momma and Daddy loved them and I pray each day, sometimes several times a day that I can be the Mom Shurleen’s Mother was and is. What could be better than knowing because of your obedience ALL your children walk with Christ. What a reward!

I  have never been know for my demure, delicate demeanor. Though lately the Lord is laying it on my heart to be softer. When it comes to being a Mommy I can be very soft, but mess with my kids and I am a big mean Momma bear.

Recently we pulled Steven (our 7yo) out of Public School. He was in a regular (albeit out of control) 1^st grade class in the morning and The Developmental Learning center in the afternoon. His afternoons were nice,. He had a structured caring teacher who knew her job and loved children. The mornings were chaos and his teacher was young, arrogant and had no control. Long story short, she targeted Steve, simply b/c she thought she could. Most folks out where we live are the rural poor, and many children come to school dirty and hungry. Steve came clean as a whistle and ready to learn with a full tummy. For some reason this bothered her. After a lot of pettiness and her being backed up by the Vice-Principal (her mom, no kidding)) and the Principal (Mom’s best friend) I got him out. Many things were said and opinions exchanged, but at one point I knew it was time to shake the dust off my feet and walk away. Unfortunately the public Schools are much like the Emperors New Clothes. It is a world of denying the inner problems. We all know that, it is one of the reasons so many of us Home school.

I thought the whole thing was over. The Special Ed teacher had encouraged me to remove him as she said it was an impossible situation and nothing she said to the Principal made a difference. There is one Math game Steve loved and she promised to leave a copy at the front desk. Yesterday I went to pick it up and sign him off of his IEP. I was literally met at the door by the Director Of Special Services. In her most condescending tone she told me how I was not allowed to remove Steve from Special ed. It was the Law! I replied. “No it’ not, you’ve misinterpreted the law, I ABSOLUTLEY CAN remove him, refuse your services and seek private resources on my own” Oh no you can not. Very calmly I said. “Oh but I can, in fact and I am.” She continued to get more condescending in tone and said “Perhaps you don’t understand, we are the School system and you can not.” I replied “Oh but I do understand the law you have misinterpreted. I know you are the school system, I am his mother and in this state I have all the rights over his education and you have none! Shall we take this up with my Attorney?” She got a little red, kept insisting I had to bring him back every afternoon. I looked at her and said sweetly, yet firmly, “My son will NEVER walk through these doors again, and I am well within my rights. I also kept repeating “No he does not” to every “He has to!” she said. I left. Had a lovely day in town with all 8 of my little ones.

Later that afternoon the director of the Districts Home school Program and I met to talk. She is so awesome and loves Homeschoolers and has created a very separate place for Homeschoolers to come together and get such things as Karate, Piano, French, Art. She pulls in some wonderful teachers. She is a champion of home school rights. Anyway, she was outraged at how I was treated and went over to the Elementary school. Told the Director of Special Services that I was well within my rights and she could do nothing. At which point the Director said she could force the issue. Diana the Homeschool Director. Said “NO you can not. He is in my program and I have been a Certified Special Ed teacher for 25 years.” CASE CLOSED!

Diana was a big help to me, without her I still knew the law and knew I had the right to remove Steven. With the Creighton case still fresh on our minds, I think it is important to know our rights as home schoolers and as parents. Very important!

A Marriage Made in Heaven

“Mommy why did you marry daddy? ‘ That came from my sweet-spirited 7yo Molly.  "Oh Molly I loved him.  He is so handsome! He is so sweet. “and Mama” Molly replied “He loves Jesus.” Yes, that is right Molly , he loves Jesus.

Really I guess I have been his mission. He has had quite a lot of patience with me over the last 10 years. Lately b/c of life’s circumstance we began to disconnect. Verbal bombs were lobbed, salt rubbed into old wounds. Old past hurts were resurrected to make a point, to win to be right. Fortunately, that got very old. The other day we sat across from one another. 40+ fogies. 10 kids and 10 years behind us. We are a little grayer, a lot fluffier, a few more wrinkles and some invisible scars. There we sat at a cross roads. We knew if it continued the way it was going, if we kept pulling that one thread the whole lovely garment of our marriage and family would unravel. His mission would be over, taken away. Jim is the kind of man that would never let that happen.

I really want to encourage people to Adopt from Foster Care. Really I do. When somebody asks about our family or wonders if “they” are all mine and I answer YES all 8 children following me do indeed belong to my husband and I. Often they reply with “Oh I always wanted to adopt? Is it expensive” NO. “Is it hard?” That’s the clincher. I say yes, and in certain settings like grocery stores or parking lots I end it there. For people I know, or in more quiet settings when I have more time I tell them the truth. Yes. It is hard. It is terribly, horribly, miserably, heart pounding hard. Not because the children we get are burning down our home or torturing our animals. We take children 2yo and under. It is hard because we fall in love with them. Love them like we gave birth to them and never stop wondering or worrying if they will be moved to a biological relative or given back to marginally OK parents. We tend to screaming toddlers who have night terrors and are unable to verbalize the hell their life has been. We get rejected by curly headed darlings who are so angry they need to be mad at some big person and we are it. We walk the floor with inconsolable Meth addicted newborns who seem to cry constantly and re-coil at being touched. The very thing you want to do to soothe that precious wee one is the very thing you often can not do.

We have watched our adopted children grow and get healthier and exceed any and all expectations and we have come to terms with the fact that a few of our children will likely struggle for the rest of their lives. Oh it is hard all right. In the words of my 8yo son “That stinks Mom!” or the American Teens tragic lament and whine “That’s not fair.” Nope. No guarantees.

So when I tell the truth I often hear. “I could not do that, love a child and then give them back. Oh I would be too attached. It’s not for me."  I’m here to tell you it’s survivable. I had a beautiful newborn boy placed in my arms and told he’s all yours. No parents, no relative NADA. 11 months later a different SW called. The 1^st was fired. She told me that there was an Aunt and Uncle who wanted him. He was gone in 48 hours. I knew then what it felt like to lose a child in every sense of the word. Before I could grieve too hard or feel too sorry for myself another SW called and said my twins bio-mother had just given birth to a very sick little boy and would we take him. Shortly thereafter I held in my arms our Thomas. Noonan Syndrome, Atrial Septal Defect, Autism Spectrum, Severe Gross Motor Delays were all words I would hear much later. What I knew was he was a part of our twins, he was bi-racial and he had a Cleft Palate and he was and is absolutely beautiful!. I soon learned there was no time for my grief. He had to be fed with a special bottle and special nipple. Because of Acid Reflux whatever I squeezed in his mouth soon came back up and though his nose. (The twins thought that was so cool!) He was so hard to feed and so easy to love. He was and is worth every second it took to keep him alive and healthy until his surgery. He is 3 ½ now, busy, bright, talkative, funny. He is all ours. God is good. God never fails to replace what He has removed. As much as our Social Service System plays god, there really is only one true God and I have seen  Him make His will evident many times.

That is the roller coaster of Foster-Adopt. If the potential of losing children you have grown to love put back into a flawed system is too hard for you, this is what I tell people. Yes it is hard, but with several million children nationwide in the foster care system I cannot put my feelings before the needs of children who need either a temporary or permanent home. It’s not about me. It’s about them. Yes! It is hard. It hurts, so does childbirth and paying your taxes. God calls us to care for the Widows and Orphans. So many ignore that call erroneously thinking or hoping the Government will do the job God has asked us to do.

As I type this I am clinging to hope once more. Hope and prayer that the 2 little brothers we have had in our home for 11 mos will not be sent to horribly, marginally functional Grandparents. They are 15 mos and 2 ½ yo. The 2yo is an angel. He came with no language. Thomas could not climb stairs. Within 2 short months that little 2yo was chattering away in sentences and Thomas is quite the adept climber of stairs and other things! They were at 3 and 2 yo the best therapy for one another. The baby is a round red-headed ball of joy. Dimples you get lost in and he is starting to walk like a little chimp. Arms in the air, legs wide and squealing all the way. We know now Social Services wants them with us. Ultimately it is up to a Judge in May. Truthfully it is in our Fathers hands. What will happen if they go? My heart will break, I will sob, we will as a family cry and mourn and then I be granted once again that peace that passes all understanding. Our God is an AWESOME God. I will pray for them, I will think of them daily. Soon a Social Worker will call and say, we have this little one he/she needs …..would you take him/her. You know my answer.