We Graciously Reject Donations...

Today was one of those days when you force yourself to take a shower, just so you can cry without scaring the children.  I am not one of those women who hides emotion from my kids, I think that the sooner they view me as a human person, with real feelings, the nicer they will be to me when they are teenagers. *This is an untested theory, but I plan to let you all know if it works out.  

I don't hide my emotions from them, but I also try really hard to not scar them for life either.  If nothing else, I want to create the illusion that their mother is a sane woman... but, the kind of crying that I had to get done today was the kind that shatters such an illusion.  The cry on the agenda was the kind that really needs a good amount of water pressure to drown out.  

After my shower-fit, I mustered the strength to pack up some of our maybe-baby's things and walk them over to the community food pantry.  As it turns out they "graciously accept donations" during two 45 minute windows of time during the week.  I had not arrived during one of these windows.  I don't get it!  First I try to give these items to the birthmother, and that didn't work out, and now even the food pantry is against me.  By the time I walked back, my mother-in-law Cindy pulled into the driveway and saw me standing on my porch like a zombie, holding a bag of bottles and formula and diapers.  Unlike the food pantry, my sweet mother-in-law "graciously accepts donations" at all hours of the day.  

So, Day 24, I put  a bag of baby things in the back seat of my MIL's car and she will deliver them to a local mission.  Kind of a flop, I know... but, my expectations for today was just to make it into the shower to cry, so, sadly, this was really a mind-blowing accomplishment.

Apart from that, we are all just sort of processing in our own way.  Some people have asked if I regret that we brought the kids with us to Manhattan, and would I do it differently next time?  In a word: nowayjose.

Here is what I am thinking... Was this a painful experience for the kids?  Absolutely it was.  They are feeling confused, maybe a little guarded as far as the "next baby" goes, and they are very disappointed.  The bottom line is that in the past week I have heard my kids (2, 5, 7 and 8 years old) discuss the pros and cons of parenting vs. making an adoption plan, evaluate socioeconomic issues like poverty and homelessness, as well as how different cultures view adoption.  These have been heavy conversations, but I have got to believe that my kids are developing an usually mature understanding of life and issues outside themselves.  My hope is that they are being seasoned in a way that is painful, yes, but also very growing.  And I can't wait to see the compassion, the sense of social consciousness, and the cultural sensitivities that these understandings will develop in them.  I may be biased, but I have got to believe that kids who have these kinds of discussions at such an early age... are just going to be awesomer for it.  

So, no, I do not regret including my children in on such a potentially amazing experience.  The bottom line is that I really wanted Harper to see exactly how we felt when we came to meet him.  I wanted him to see how we frantically packed and prepared when we got the call that we had a baby and "it's a boy!"  I wanted him to feel the same anticipation we felt for him.  I wanted him to see all of us rejoicing in the birth of this tiny, brown baby, and he could think "Oh, this must be just what they felt when they met me."

I told him that today, that Mommy and Daddy are so sad because we wanted this little boy so very much to be in our family.  I said that we wanted him that much too, and that we would have been so sad if we hadn't gotten him.  He looked at me with those dark eyes and said, "But you weren't sad then, because you did get me..." Then he did a slow, dreamy blink with his long false-looking eyelashes and added with a sigh,

"You got me forever."

I know that this baby was not mine to keep.  I know that this baby was meant to be in a different home.  I know that I will probably wonder about him constantly for a while, and from time to time down the road.  I know that I loved him as much as anyone could have in my position, and I know that I loved his birthparents as much as I possibly could.  The truth is that God is who He says He is and He was here first... so, how He chooses to act, or not act, in any given situation is really none of my business.  In light of that, I am just trying to remember His promises to me, and I believe that He has called us into this adoption journey for a second time, not to torture us, but to teach us something we could not learn any other way.  And, in the end, I will get to look into the dreamy, slow-motion eyes of my last baby and I will know, that this one is forever.

What if God Isn't Safe?

I want to thank so many of you for the encouraging comments, messages, texts and calls. We are overwhelmed by all of the support we have received. I expected to be sad if we didn't get a baby, but I did not expect to feel like my baby was taken away from me. We are grieving and trying so hard to trust the Lord in all of this, and all of the kind words and affirmations have really helped.

One thing I would like to clear up, though, is that I am not an amazing person. Trust me... there was more than one time over the past week when the pressure got to me and I snapped at the kids, and I even fantasized about dragging one lady out of the hotel lobby by her perfectly highlighted ponytail and throwing her into the Hudson. I don't know if it was something specific that was irritating to her, or if her distaste for me was general, but there was nothing I wanted more than to throw down with that woman in a parking lot. Trust me, I am not amazing. I am capable of a lot of things, but left to my own devices... I will almost always do something stupid or selfish or just the teensiest bit violent.

The truth is that I serve a God that is amazing, and *anything* that I have done that isn't completely heinous and sinful... is only evidence that God loves a lost cause and He is committed to making a redemption story outta my pathetic self.

I know that God is faithful, but I have a long history of believing that when things like this happen it is because He secretly doesn't like me. I am working so hard to uproot that lie... but moments like these are vulnerable times for me to let Satan whisper in me ear, "See. We both knew He didn't care."

I know now that it is a lie, and I know that He is the God that sees, and cares, and holds, and heals. I do not know what is on the other end of this sadness I am feeling now... but I know that I am not the first woman on the planet to grieve the loss of a child, or the idea of a child.

Sadly, for Day 23, I was not able to deliver all the baby items I wanted to bring. I was told that in this particular situation, it would be better for responsibility to be taken independently by the caretakers and my gift may send a mixed message about that. It makes total sense, and I completely trust the social workers' authority and discernment in this situation... but it left me feeling helpless and deflated, as I just wanted this one way to kind of release him. Now, all I picture is this newborn baby riding around without a car seat in the back of some taxi, lying in a stranger's lap.

Although my plan fell through, another opportunity presented itself when a sweet, beautiful, brilliant friend asked if she could share some of our adoption story with her own family who suffered through the years when adoption was something, not to be celebrated, but hidden away like an untouchable family secret. These old mindsets left so many victims in their wake, and this woman asked for Day 23 that I would give permission to print and share some of our story with her hurting family members. This was my pleasure to agree to, even though she totally could have printed it without my knowledge or consent! :)

Apart from our own feelings about this failed attempt to complete our forever family, we are very concerned about the kids... but mostly Harper. How does our adopted, five year old son process this new awareness that sometimes birthmothers do change their minds? Will it hurt him more to realize that his didn't, or that she might try to get him back down the road? I knew these realizations and fears and hurts would surface eventually... but, I was unprepared for it to happen this way, and now.

I don't know what to do about any of it, but... as we already covered, if it were up to me to make it all okay, I would just blow it anyways. So, I am going to work very hard to lie back in my Father's lap, knowing that whatever crazy journey He takes us on next, I might not be safe from pain, or danger, or heartache.. but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

A Different Gift

If you are checking in because you are just dying to know what my Random Act of Kindness was for Day 22, THAT I can deliver: I bought a hot dog for a homeless woman. I once saw a documentary called The Faces of Meth. This girl definitely had The Face of Meth. Since that documentary, I have had an irrational fear of catching a meth addiction, so bringing her a hot dog was actually a big deal for me.

If, on the other hand, you are tuning in for happy news about a successful adoption... I am so sad to say that I cannot deliver. After waiting all day, we received very unexpected news that while the birth parents were still choosing not to parent, a family member stepped in and will be taking the baby.

I will not share more details than that about the particular family dynamics in such a public setting, but suffice it to say that we are absolutely crushed about this decision. I know that we have been calling him the maybe-baby, but in my heart he was just... definitely.
And now my heart feels broken.

I have said from the beginning that if I came all the way here to Manhattan and all I did was help this girl through this time, it would be worth it to me, even if I came away empty handed. I promised myself that I would have no regrets being there to support someone who had no one else. I swore it wouldn't be a waste, no matter what happened.

So, to keep my promise to myself, to make this trip worthwhile, to show this girl some grace and love, I am taking my sister BethAnn's advice and I am going to the hospital tomorrow to bring the baby his things. Clothes, diapers, formula, bottles, pacifiers, bibs, blankets, burp rags, and car seat... All the basics that I brought for him, and I am giving them to the social worker so that my almost-baby can have something from his almost-mama.

So, that is going to be Day 23. I don't know if I will have the strength to do this, and also write it down.

Since July I have been envisioning this day. The day where he would be discharged from the hospital and I would go there and I would have his seat all ready, and the gentlest newborn formula, and glass bottles because the plastic ones have all the chemicals, and I would wrap him tight and snuggle him into me and I would make him mine. I don't know how to walk into that hospital knowing that he is there, and that he still needs two parents, and that he will never be mine.

I will do it. But I don't know if I can write about it. So, if there is no post tomorrow, consider it my moment of silence after doing Day 23's Random Act of Kindness: giving a gift I didn't want to give, because the gift I really wanted to give was a family, a home, and my heart.

Is An Untitled Post Okay, Just This Once?

I committed to doing 31 days of kindness for the month of October because I wanted to honor my brother's life and memory in a way that would also honor that God that he and I both adore. For Day 21, I forced my family to cheer loudly for participants in a cycling race because the smug folks of Manhattan refuse to humiliate themselves for the sake of encouragement. Many cyclists were visibly appreciative, some were audibly appreciative, and some were smug Manhattanites who were clearly irritated at our humiliating ourselves.

We did this, and some other fun things today as we waited for news about this little baby boy we have come to bring home. After waiting all day, we finally got some news.

The baby was born very early this morning. He is healthy and so is his birthmama. I have waited so long for that news, and I know that many of you have also. The bottom line, though, is that birth is a game-changer. I get it, I have done it three times. There is adrenaline, the sense that you can do anything, and emotions run high... and the reality is that people change their plans after a baby is born.

We don't know anything for sure, but at this point it is looking like the birthparents are overwhelmed with the emotion of it all, and it is absolutely their right to respond to that with a change of plans, but that would mean it isn't really looking good for us.

I meant it when I said that I truly want what is best for this baby, even if it isn't me. But, I didn't know how hard it would be. And I couldn't imagine that it wouldn't be us, our family, our home.

A lot of decisions have to be made, by people who love this baby even more than we do. I am praying that their decisions be wise and sure and that we have the grace and peace to handle it.

I know that a lot of you started following this blog because of the 31 days of kindness... And I am certain this is more than you bargained for. (Trust me, it's hardly what I had in mind.) But, I think I knew my brother pretty well in his short life, and I am learning that my life is what honors his memory, not how I spend the month of October. So, although it is more than we bargained for... This is my life. It is a lot like this crazy city. There is some beauty, some stench, some tension, some devastation, some history, some mystery and some chaos. It's the truth though... My life is like this, this city is like this, adoption is like this.

So, there you have it. Day 21, we made fools of ourselves as we encouraged cyclists in a race. No big deal.  We are trying really hard to live lives that bring light into a dark world, and I think that just telling the truth about it all is a pretty big deal. No matter what happens with this baby tomorrow, I know that God has him in the palm of his hand, and even of it takes everything in me... I will humiliate myself in encouraging this birthmom to finish this race of parenting before I let myself get bitter and stop trying to do what's right.

Falling In Love Before You Should.

Still no news.

Trust me, I know. I am just going to write down the answers to the FAQ's:

No, we haven't heard anything. No, I don't know what that means. Yes, the
birthmom was supposed to be induced today. Yes, that means the baby has
probably been born, or will be very soon. Yes, I am going crazy.

We spent another day of attempted- distraction touring around the city. For
Day 20, we talked about how acts of kindness can be big things (driving to
a huge, strange city, to fetch a child who maybe needs a home) or something
small, like a compliment. We decided to do a day of smallish kindnesses. We
started with holding the door open for strangers, gave change to street
performers an lots of curly hair compliments, offered our seats on the
subway to others, etc. We also put some fare on a metro card and gave it to
a lady who offered us her seat on the subway, and then we tipped a totally
mediocre mariachi performer on the subway.

Nothing was jaw-dropping, but it is nice to see how the kids have come to
expect that our family will look for opportunities to be kind.

We meant to go to Liberty Island to see the Statue of Liberty, and then
Ellis Island...but we accidentally went to Staten Island, which is an
island, but has way less historically significant statues. So, we got soft
pretzels.

Then we went to Time Square, which I have been to before and it remains my
least favorite part of the city. I think I kinda hate it so much. But,
there were some neat things for the kids to see, and some totally
inappropriate things we tried to keep them from seeing.

We had a great time today and saw a lot of great things. But truthfully, I
feel sad. I just wasn't really present today. I really wanted to just enjoy
today because if this adoption is successful, then these are the last days
I have with this family as it is. After this, we will be different. It will
be good, but it will never be like it is now, ever again. So, I want so
much to savor the time we have as a family of six.

But, as much as I wanted that... I couldn't help feeling like a Mama who
wasn't with her son on his birthday. I know he isn't ours yet, and he might
not ever be... but, I don't know how to wait to fall in love until someone
gives the green light. I only know how to fall in love, over time, first
with the idea of someone, then the dream of them, then the possibility,
then the almost... and now, we are so close, and today is probably his
birthday, and I am afraid I am in love before I should be.

Mooned in Manhattan

No news.

There. For those who were just waiting for me to post to find out if there is any adoption news... the answer is no. Trust me, nobody wishes that weren't true more than me. So, you'll be fine waiting another day. Hopefully that will be as long as we have to wait, because this baby is scheduled to be induced tomorrow.

To distract ourselves and the kids, especially, we spent the day touring the city. Most of what my kids know about NYC is from the Muppets movie... which means they really didn't have any reasonable expectations. London kept crying out from her bed when I closed the shade, "I can't see Kermit's house!!"

Today, they got a little more realistic of a taste than Miss Piggy's roller skating chase scene. We went to the Museum of Natural History, took a walk through Central park, and got a pizza. The funny thing is that we did all of that with some friends from home, Tif and DL, and their two girls, who just happened to be in the city this weekend! It was definitely our most exciting play date.

Oddly enough, in a city with a kitzillion people, I ran into a childhood friend who grew up literally a few houses up the street from me. Neither of us live here in Manhattan... So it was completely random that we saw each other.

Speaking of random... Onto Day 19 of Random Acts of Kindness. I had one bizarre opportunity to let a woman know that she forgot to wear anything on her bottom half... But I chickened out because I wasn't sure how kind it would be to say "excuse me ma'am, but everyone can see your nakie-buns." So we opted for over-tipping a street musician at the sight of John Lennon's assassination in Central Park.

I also complimented approximately 6 ladies at the museum, all women of varying ethnicities who were wearing their hair naturally curly and beautiful. The one random act of kindness that is almost always well received: a compliment. We just can't get enough of 'em! I think we all long to feel loved and affirmed and encouraged. In my opinion, encouraging and building up others is the easiest Biblical command to follow. I will say, though, that I do regret not telling the lady with the missing drawers to never, ever bend at the waist again, but sometimes a moment passes and you just can't get it back.

Day 19's Kindness Lesson: never just think a compliment, ALWAYS SAY THEM OUT LOUD!

Day 19's Fashion Lesson: nylons do not equal pants. Underpants required, another garment, also appreciated.

Below are some pictures from last night and today. They are ordered grab bag style because I cannot figure out this blog application. But, as you scroll through notice how Harper and the street musician smile the same way! Ha!

Please keep praying for this baby and birthmama as they both face some major life changes tomorrow. And, if things go as planned, we will too.

It's Up to YOU! New York, Neeew Yoooork!!

My original plan for Day 18 was to bring dinner to two different households that could use a little break from the everyday stresses of meal planning and prep. I had good intentions, but my plans quickly changed when we got the okay to go ahead and travel to Manhattan. The meals weren't a total casualty, they will just have to arrive a little later than Day 18.

So... WE ARE ON THE ROAD!! We were offered a place to stay in Manhattan, a luxury highrise apartment overlooking the Hudson. This place is so beyond our spending capacity, that I actually had to ask for instructions about tipping a concierge. I picture myself giving him a snickers and then getting slapped with pristine, white bellman's gloves. It was brought to my attention that this is an irrational fear likely shaped by something I had seen on TV. Too true, all too true.

Because we have a place to stay, we are able to go now, before the baby arrives so that we can be available to support the birthmother in any way she would like. Or to respectfully keep our distance... whichever she decides.

We are trying to keep the kids focused on seeing the city and enjoying our time as a family, because we honestly don't know how else to handle the very real possibility that we will be there waiting, respecting, supporting... And still come home without a baby.

The only way I can describe what we are feeling is reluctant excitement. It is a hard place to be, but my greatest hope is whether we interact with her or not, that she will feel loved, ministered to, and supported by somebody.

The truth is that I am passionate about my role as an adoptive mother, and part of that role is facilitating whatever relationship with biological family members that is healthiest for my child. A lot of times people say really horrible things about women who have made an adoption plan for her child. Some common ones are "I just don't understand how anyone could do such a thing." and one I hear frequently, "at least you don't have to deal with the birthmother."

Not "dealing" with the woman who gave your child life and the gift of a family, is tragic in my opinion. I long to support this girl in my own way, but the most supportive thing I can do for her is to respect her way. So, I am getting my game face on.

We are expected to arrive at the lap of luxury by 10:18pm and to feel out of our league and keenly aware of our poverty by 10:20 at the latest. For my Random Act of Kindness for Day 18, we have treats for the toll booth operators and a fresh cheek, ready for a good glove-slappin'.

We will see how this all turns out, but I can't help but feel tickled that in the middle of the month that I have been trying to honor God and my own brother's memory... we are coming very close to giving our kids a really special gift, their baby brother.

The Irresponsible Library Patrons Association

Day 17 was a day of unexpected kindnesses.  Mostly received, which is my personal nightmare... but I am really working on it.

It started with a stranger generously providing a place for us to stay if/when we have to go to Manhattan to get the maybe baby.  This woman and I had never met, not one. single. time.  It was totally the definition of a random act of kindness!  To receive something so needed from a stranger was truly overwhelming.  I think God is sweetly bringing me along to see the big picture of how He uses us to intertwine in each other's lives so that He can bless and provide for us, through one another.  Kindness #1, received.

From there, I went to my friend Shana's house, because she offered to take Harper and London for the morning so that I could try to get things ready for the baby.  The kids had a great time apparently, because when I said it was time to get going, London hauled into the back room and locked herself in a dog cage.  I don't about you, but I have ended all of my best dates this way.  Nothing says "Thanks, I had a great time!" like imprisoning oneself in a kennel.  After I dragged her out of the dog cage, she refused to walk or cooperate in general, so I picked her up firmly and carried her to the van while she was flailing and air-swimming with every bit of rage she could muster.  Still, Kindness #2, received.

It was time to pay it forward.  I wanted to do something that someone like me would appreciate.  In this current state, I am a hot mess.  I am obsessively checking my phone for an email, text, call... anything from the social worker.  (It doesn't matter because every buzz or beep that my phone lets out, is Sears.  I don't know how they got my email address, but who cares... it's always Sears.)  Blast that Sears!  Unless Sears can present me with an actual baby, I don't want to hear a single beep or buzz outta them.  When I am in a mode like this, where I am frazzled and harebrained and generally forgetful and aloof... I can forget to take care of basic responsibilities.  Even returning a book to the library proves to require too much remembering to actually do it.

So, for Day 17, I thought that I would bring redemption upon people like me.  I brought some money to the library to pay for late fees.  The librarian was very confused at first, then he got disproportionately excited.  He actually went and got the other librarian and they fussed over the generosity and the inspiration.  All I could think of was the stranger-friend who is blessing us with this place to stay, and the actual friends who are helping support me along the way.  I thought about how little I have actually done, and what I have actually received during the first 17 days, and I am overwhelmed.

Just as I was leaving, librarian #2 said "I hope that you find this kindness rebounded upon your own life."

I am finding that it already has.

Nesting, Grooming & Other Mammalian Intincts

Some days are more conducive to being kind than others.  Not necessarily because I am in a bad mood, or because I am a hate monger. I mean, sometimes that's it.  But, it can also be plenty of non-hateful reasons.  For example:

• There are sometimes whole, entire days where I do not leave my house at all.  I am a shut-in and I'm fine with it.
• There are days when I am non-stop, no room for anything extra, completely chaotic busy.  I hate these days, and I usually over-correct by shutting in.
• Then, there are days when you start packing suitcases because your maybe-baby's birthmother is starting to have contractions.  Ahhhhhhh!

Yep.  You read that right.  Nothing is ever for sure in this thing called adoption, but as it stands... we are just waiting for a call to head to Manhattan to GET OUR BABY BOY!!!  The birthmother will be induced by Saturday at the latest, so that means it will literally be any day.  My heart is simultaneously full of joy and breaking from sadness.

I am beyond excited about the possibility of this being our "mistry baby," and on the the other hand I am thinking of this young woman who is experiencing all of the labor pains and fears and concerns... and will ultimately walk away without her child to make it all feel worth it.  I have the utmost respect for birthmothers and I know that I can not undo the pain that this separation will bring to them both.  I am amazed at her tenacity and her fight and her stubborn strength so far... and I am so afraid that if I get the chance to meet her, that I will totally blow it.

Needless to say, I spent the day doing mostly household kindnesses.  I don't know how to cope with all the maybes... maybe this will be the one, or maybe not!  Maybe she will change her mind when she gives birth, or maybe she won't!  Maybe you will have the baby for a month and then she'll change her mind, or maybe not!  Maybe I will say the wrong thing to her, or maybe I won't get to meet her at all.  Maybe, maybe, maybe... It is just enough to make you snap at your husband all day for no reason.  Not that I have done that, I am just saying that I could see how an otherwise lovely gal, could get a little sass to her in such a situation.  

For Day 16, Tom mowed our neighbor's yard.  Not the swearer, but the other neighbor, who actually works third shift, and I don't really know what hours those are, but I don't think he comes home during mowin' hours.  Sure, the yard is teeny tiny, and he did it while looking like a mad scientist, because his hair was completely out of control... but he got the job done and it is gonna have to count because Mama was a crazy lady today.  Which leads us to my family-focused kindesses:

1. Haircuts all around.  Tom honestly looked like Sideshow Bob, so I de-Sideshow Bobbed him and he is looking fresh and handsome.  I gave Harper the sweetest "mowhog" he ever saw, and he couldn't have been happier.  Well, that's not true, he actually would have been much happier if I had acquiesced to his demand that I shave off his eyebrows.  Still, he is also fresh and handsome.  Marlie got a trim in time for picture day.  I got rid of London's Beatles mullet and Annalee is currently growing out, and passed on the trim altogether.  I also trimmed my own hair.  Since I have always cut all 6 (almost 7!! maybe.) of our hair... I will save our family about a quarter of a million dollars in hair grooming services over the course of our lifetime.  That is very kind of me, thank you very little.
2. I did 155 loads of laundry.  I am nearly caught up.
3. I started PACKING A SUITCASE!!  Bottles, onesies, bibs, burp rags... all the stuff I forgot about completely.  

Okay, I realize that I was hardly Mother Theresa today, but I am under a great deal of stress...and c'mon... I am preparing to retrieve an orphan.  Does that not count!?  If that doesn't count, then I should show a before picture of my husband's hair.  You would realize the great kindness I have bestowed upon the general public just by removing the wild Mufasa mane that was Medusa-ing directly outward from his temples.

Coffee and C.P.F.D. (Care Package Flashback Disorder)

We are halfway through this month people.  I know it sounds like doing 15 kind things isn't that big of a deal... and you are probably right.  Except that you're not right, you're wrong, and it is a big deal.  And why do you have to be so negative about it anyways?

Here is how I know that it is a big deal.  Today, Harper (5) and London (2) were playing in the yard and they went over to the shed, knocked on the door and shouted "Is anybody home!?  Open up!  We have your kindness!"  My kids are playing kindness!  In the almost nine years that I have been a mom, I have learned that kids often use play to act out what they see happening in their daily lives.  I have seen my kids chastise, feed and rock their baby dolls, and put their "awesome football guy" in a time out, and London has covered her stuffed animals' eyes with their little fluffy paws so she can have "pwivatesy" in the bathroom.  They play what they live... and I think it is a big deal that they are playing kindness.

Then again, their random act of kindness was delivering three shovels to the empty shed... which was even worse than offending those ladies at the bus stop with all the delicious donuts.  Harper and London got about as much eye contact from the shed as I got from those ladies.

So, Day 15, the halfway point.  I bought coffee and delivered it to the wonderful teachers who get to shape and teach my two precious girls everyday.  Annalee had gotten the inside scoop (not so subtly) on her teachers' dream coffee.  The two little ones and I delivered those coffees first.  The teachers had been following along on the blog, so they already knew about the 31 days.

Problem #1:  If your children's teachers are reading your personal blog, then they know that you are a crazy person.

Problem #2:  If your children's teachers are awesome, they will overlook said craziness and invite you to help lead a children's writing workshop.

Problem #3: Said crazy person will likely agree impulsively  though she has absolutely zero credentials or legitimate experience in writing and/or workshopping.  

Next stop was to deliver coffee to Marlie's teacher.

Problem #4:  I do not know how this man takes his coffee.  In fact, I know very little about this man, except what I can get from Marlie which is that "He is a man, and he always has a little chest hair peeking out."  This tidbit was a great image to have, but not helpful in determining his coffee order.

Problem #5:  If said crazy person delivers coffee to a teacher while the kids are in art class, he is likely making copies in the copy room.  This is not the time to say his name, or he may jump and squeal like he was poked in the side with a little spear.

After the yelp, he acknowledged that he scares easy (as do I) and he thanked me genuinely  for the coffee.  When we were leaving the school, Harper asked, "When is it time for our kindness?"  I reminded him that our kindness was bringing coffee to all those teachers.  He clarified that he meant, "when would weeee get a little of that kindness??"  Just as I am finishing the sentence, "I think we are plenty kind to ourselves."  I open the car door directly into London's forehead.  She falls on the ground holding her injured "eye-bow."  Harper looked at me like "That was not exactly what I had in mind."

Since crunching the children with doors was the kindest thing I had done for them... it was a nice surprise to come home to these on my porch:

As I shared previously, my mother sends the worst care packages in history, so this was simultaneously exciting and terrifying.  One package was from my friend Julie, and was full of all these great things for our maybe baby:

And just to drag up all my childhood baggage, my friend Julie threw in this almost used stack of sticky notes:

The other package was from my mother.  The mother of the worst care packages in history.  In case you didn't believe my post about this.  Here is photo evidence:

And if that picture of me in that hat isn't hideous enough, she finally sent gummies. In rat form.

 

So Day 15 was a day of giving and receiving, agreeing to shape the young minds of children at a workshop I am not qualified to be a part of, crunching the baby's head with the car door and eating a rat. All in all, I would say that is a pretty solid halfway point.  I think that my brother would be absolutely delighted that my mother is still terrorizing us via care packages, and I think that this half-month of kindness has been the best way to honor the boy who broke all of her wooden spoons so she couldn't whack him for being irritating.

Kindness is a Gamble

I ain't usually a gamblin' man.  I mean, I'm not a man at all, but if I were, I wouldn't really be the gamblin' type.  But I got a cute idea from a friend about anonymously giving a lottery ticket to a stranger with a note that says "hope you win!"

I planned to buy five $1 scratch off tickets and hide them in random places.  I put my twenty dollar bill into this lotto machine:

Then I saw this sign:

Problem #1: THIS MACHINE DOES NOT GIVE CHANGE. (Esta maquina no da cambio.)

Problem #2: I needed so much change.  (Yo necessito mi dinero back.)

Well, that wasn't going to happen, so I had no choice but to buy so many lotto tickets.  I attached each ticket to a note like this:

And I placed them in random places for random people to feel randomly kinded.  I put them here:

And here:

And I threw one in here:

I tried again to be kind here at the bus stop where I struck out days ago:

And I even threw one in here:

Problem #4: If a gal like me walks into a public restroom, closes herself into a stall and starts taking cell phone pictures... it freaks people out. I think the sound of the tape dispenser just before the picture taking really threw that poor lady for a loop. (For future reference, I will turn off the clicky "chk-chk" sound next time I am using my camera in a public restroom for any reason.  We really don't need anyone speculating...)

I did play and win big myself... two whole bucks back in my pocket.  

Problem #5: When one accidentally and significantly overspends on lotto tickets, one may be insulted at such small winnings.

Well, there you have it.  Day 14.  I may be out $13 more than I planned... but, I feel just a little richer for it.  I sincerely hope that some stranger wins big and that the story will remain that the kindness of an anonymous stranger led to some Average Joe becoming a very Rich Joe who is known more than anything else for being a very Generous Joe.

What if you don't love your neighbor?

The Bible says to love your neighbor as yourself.  First of all, I would never wish that on anyone.  I tend to be self-critical, a tad condemning and typically lack self-compassion... so, I strive to love my neighbor as I should love myself and I am also hoping to be a little kinder to myself too.  I truly want to live out this Biblical command in a literal and tangible way...but I caught myself today, Day 13, dragging my feet on my act of kindness for the day because I do not really loooove my neighbor.

Since nobody really speaks hypothetically, I am just gonna shoot ya straight.  My neighbor swears all night long and she drove her car into her own house, hypothetically speaking.

I so desperately want to be the kind of woman who can't help just lovin' on people.  I try, I really do.  I am friendly and I try to have conversations and I have offered to help with her son when she is running late getting him off the bus.  But, if I am being really honest... I judge her.  I am so ashamed to admit that, but I do.  I judge her parenting style, her phone conversations (which I can hear loud and clear 22 hours a day) and I judge the number of horrible things she says in front of her child.  I am not the kind of woman who just loves on someone until they soften and change... I am a wicked, judgmental woman.  Surprise.  It's so sad.

I have this internal battle with people like this... I genuinely want to love them and soften them and I want to walk through life with broken people, ministering to their souls.  But, on the other hand, I also kinda want to slap broken people, because they are usually breaking someone else in the meantime.  Sometimes I wonder if I had a bit more self-compassion, and was less critical of myself, and if I chose to view myself through the lens of grace... that I just might be a little less judgmental and more gracious toward others.

So, I brought some apple crisp.  I brought it over to my neighbor and it was well received and that's really where it all ends.  I hear no swearing tonight, so I am gonna believe that my apple crisp was ministering to their marital souls and that they feel loved by the wicked witch to the west.
 

How Much is That Doggy in the Window

When I was little, I used to follow my brother Adam around like a puppy.  In fact, his wrestling team gave me the nickname lil' pinner because not only did I look like Adam, but because I would follow him around at his wrestling meets, often times wearing his sweathsirt, eating Jello jigglers, and practicing my wrestling moves on the mat.  I wanted to be just like him, even in his wrestling skills... which were superior enough to earn him 2nd in State his junior year, and also the nickname Pinner.  As I shared earlier, my brother passed away on Halloween night when he was a senior in high school.  That night, I had unknowingly walked house to house, trick-or-treating on the same street that he would later be tragically shot and killed.  For my Halloween costume that night, I had dressed up like Adam.

I wore his wrestling singlet, his warm-ups and his headgear.  I was lil' pinner.

If all of my following and idolizing every bothered Adam, he never once let me know.  He tolerated my presence and so did his friends.  Only once did he ever initiate this type of behavior though, and it is one of my favorite memories of Adam.  He actually asked me to follow him around.  We had just gotten a new puppy, a tiny little maltese, named Mia, that was just big enough to stretch to the size of your palm.  I had just finished soccer practice and had gone over to the stadium to watch Adam's soccer game.  I was sitting on the bleachers with Mia sleeping inside my shinguard, on my lap.  After the game, Adam saw his cute little sister, holding a cute little puppy who was sleeping in a tiny shinguard.  He insisted that I follow him around, like a puppy... and with a puppy!  It took me a while to realize why he dragged me around that stadium until every pretty girl got a good look at him in all his tender glory with his baby sister and adorable sleeping puppy.

This memory was sparked by my friend, Chrisann, who volunteers at an Animal Rescue in Kalamazoo, Michigan.  Every year they do a big fundraising event and silent auction and she works hard to accumulate items to auction to raise money for food, supplies and medical care for lots of adorable little puppies.  This has to be a thankless job in a lot of ways, so, for Day 12, I mailed two my headbands to Miss Chrisann to go to the highest bidder.  I am sure these will bring in millions upon millioins of dollars. Each.

Actually, I have to admit that today I was a little less others-focused than I have been for most of this month. Instead I was a little more focused on the "oh boy, we are maybe having a baby any minute, which will change the trajectory of our entire lives, for the rest of our lives, so I should complete nine months of nesting in 24 hours just in case because I should be ready for anything... orrrr nothing will happen at all."  So, completing an act of kindness today was not going to happen randomly, it had to be intentional... and I needed back up.

So, I packaged everything up and sent my boys on a mission to the post office.  I handed Harper a candy and gave him clear instructions to give the treat to the postal worker and say "my family is doing 31 days of kindness, so this is for you!"

Instead, Harper said "It's 30 kindness!"

Since the postal worker doesn't speak cryptic five year old, he rejected the treat and sited "I don't eat candy" as his excuse.  Tom politely encouraged him to do the kid a solid and "maybe he could share the candy with a friend."  He accepted, but wasn't really thrilled about it.  The most shocking thing I have learned so far this month is how difficult it is for people to graciously accept kindness from a shady stranger.

I am beyond guilty of this.  I can't even graciously accept a gift (or a even a compliment) from a close friend without a stupid reaction of shock and guilt and fear.  I cannot imagine that this is the joyful response a gift-giver is hoping for.  I must have ruined so many generous moments for people.  I am learning not to rob people of the blessing of giving, because I feel guilty receiving.

I had a little practice with it today when my old friend, Julie, offered to send some baby boy clothes and cloth diapers our way.  My first instinct was to lie and say "No, we don't need anything, we have all things we need, always, everything is fine and we never need. Ever"  I tried a little of that, but she shut me down pretty quick and I am pretty sure the items shipped today.  Too kind.

I get it.  It is hard to accept the baby clothes, or the diapers, or the squashed candy from the boy at the post office.  Honestly though, just take the stinkin' candy bar already and keep your trap shut.  Act excited and blessed and maybe even kiss a lady on the mouth.  That's the fun of giving, and that is what makes it contagious.

Day 11 + Bonus Feature: ADOPTION UPDATE

Day 11 blew my mind.  What I did today was not very mind blowing... but the day itself has blown my mind.  In the interest of saving us all some precious time... I am going to neatly list the events of the day below.  Let us not forget that this is my blog, and while I am trying to act kind in the outside world, in my blog world... I get to be as rude and bossy as I like.  So, just start loving the bullet points.

• I attempted to bring donut holes to some ladies at a bus stop, because it was about 47 degrees and for me, that's quittin' weather.  I brought them over, briefly explained what I was doing, and they refused to even look at my face.  They just said "no thank you, ma'am."  After rethinking the situation, I fear that they think that I thought that they were homeless.  My bad.
• So, I took my donut holes over to the guy who wears the Cash for Gold sandwich board sign.  I just gotta believe that that is a horrible job.  Who ever said "Ya know, I was on my way to some place else, but that sign just drew me right in and I couldn't help but bring you all these gold watches."  Who has gold they no longer want, on their person?  I understand a sign that says "Stop here for a delicious food item!"  Because in the impulse of the moment, the sing might actually work.  But nobody in the history of the world has impulsively exchanged precious metals for cash money.  So, he gets donuts.  He was happy to look me in the eye and was even so thankful that he offered to pay it forward by taking me to "a nice dinner and a movie."  I pulled out my go-to response when a situation like this comes up... I say something along the lines of "Yeah, that sounds like fun... but, I would have to check with my HUSBAND to see if he will babysit all FOUR of our kids."  (Insert good-natured chuckle.)  He no longer wanted to do dinner and a movie and thought that Tom might "come after him with a hammer."  Which I would pay good money to see.  But, I'll have to convert all my gold first.  
• I went to the post office to mail more M&M's to my pregnant stepsister, because she saw that picture from my blog and gave me a facebook message that was the equivalent of puppy dog eyes.  Plus, she is building my niece or nephew from scratch... so she gets candy.
• I bought five more stamps to leave at the register for the next stamp-needer.  The post lady almost wouldn't let me do it!  She was very leery, asking if it was some kind of chain letter and "what does it all meeeean anyway?"  I couldn't understand how it could possibly have anything to do with a chain letter, but I assured her that no curse would come from anyone not willing to participate... but that I did hope that it had a chain reaction type of effect.  She did not seem to think it would, but I think she secretly loved me for it.  
• THEN.  This has nothing to do with random acts of kindness... it has more to with our current adoption process.  I got a call from our social worker and she gave us some information about a birthmother we have been praying for since July.  She had chosen our profile (which means that of all the families whose information/photo books she saw, she chose ours!)... but later had fallen out of touch for about a month.  Eventually, after a long time with no contact from the birthmom, the social workers decided that it wasn't fair to keep us waiting for a situation that was obviously not going anywhere... until TODAY when we learned that this baby is coming any day and (at this point) the birthmother still wants us to parent this baby.  Nothing is set in stone, clearly, but we are potentially going to get a call any time saying to go to Manhattan to pick up our baby boy!  
• Tom is in a catatonic state, there was even a low hissing sound at one point.  I'm not sure where the confusion came in... I know that he filled out the paperwork and went to all the same interviews that I went to.  He has saved money and raised funds like a champ... but, somehow he forgot that all of this results in BABY #5!!  Welp, surprise!  He'll get on board soon enough, and maybe then I can take the bib off him.  Just kidding... he isn't really that bad.  He's just a little stunned at how quickly things turn around in this journey.  I am a little stunned myself.  But even at my worst, I would never, ever hiss.

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