All is calm, all is bright. We made it through the last week of school before Christmas break. Whew! All is calm as I put A to bed tonight and instead of her saying "will you come check on me?", it is now "I know you will come check on me." And so after almost 5 weeks we've settled into the comfort of knowing that, yes, I will always come check on her. She no longer calls out for me in the night. I guess she knows and trusts that I am there. Tomorrow it will be interesting to see if she asks if I will come back and get her when I take her to Sunday school. I don't think she's ever been left, but I guess there must be some sense of abandonment for just being in our home and without her family. She always wants to know that I will come back and get her. Hopefully this will become calm, and she will know that, yes, I will always come back and get her.
Backtracking to Thursday, Todd & I had a date night/Christmas shopping outing with our fav babysitter Lexi in charge of everyone. A babysitter for us must be 17, background checked, and have filled out a reference form. It changes up the casual way in which you can just have a neighbor watch the kids for a bit. Thursday was Camille's Christmas party at school and I knew she would enjoy just having mommy at the party without A. Lucky for me, we have the best office ladies around and A got to hang out with them. When I am at a meeting at school, staff can watch her. She had gum, jello, did a craft, got her vision and hearing checked by Nurse Jennifer. I'm surprised she wanted to leave. When we went to Lucas's party on Friday, she asked, "do I get to hang out with the girls?" Thanks to the "girls" at Bridlewood for letting A hang out with them so that I could mommy Camille.
Lucas is a sweetie pie and let A come to his party. He even shared his desk with her. The room mom spoiled A with all the crafts and treats that the big kids got. School is such an awesome place.
Madeline had her friends over for a cookie bake & decorating. We continued our kind of cooking with premade dough & frosting in a tube. Melanie, you'll be glad to know that I read your book to the girls! "Gingerbread Kids" by Melanie Hills. See, even 7th grade girls can be read to. I did discover a particular great find. Cupcake frosting by Betty Crocker in a squeeze can. Delicious. I was so glad that I hadn't put it out for the girls to use. Lucas found it amusing when I was using it on oatmeal square cereal. I told him that I was being halfway healthy. He suggested I just make a bowl of it. Maybe next time. I do love icing.
Had a great talk with a friend of Madeline's mom. She was very intriqued by our story of A and how we arrived at doing foster care. She said I was the 2nd person she had talked to lately with a story relating to foster care. I told her that I was bombarded with stories like that in the months leading up to our decision to do foster care. I do not believe that those moments are coincidence. I believe that sometimes God whispers and other times he shouts. There is no doubt as to who is sending the message. There are so many ways to help children like A, not just by doing foster care. My eyes were opened to the need for volunteers at Pedi Place. What a great place that is to provide medical care for kids. So many opportunities, so many needs.
Ventured to the Gaylord tonight and that was a huge mistake. Its like throwing as much commercialism into one huge building and dumping in a million people. The line to see Santa was at least a football field length. Nevertheless, we did not stand in line. I did not see a glimpse of Jesus, Mary, or Joseph on display. I did see it in the smiles and good manners of people waiting to pass until someone had snapped a picture, or saying excuse me as their purse jostled into me. The lights were beautiful and who could go without thinking of the beautiful star that lead the way to baby Jesus. Even if the material side of Christmas seems to be overwhelming, I must take a breath and see the small ways in which Jesus always reigns. Thankfully, all is calm and all is bright.
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