How Is It Supposed to Feel?

We have a high school graduate. She's currently in the French Riviera celebrating her freedom. Jokingly, one of my husband's co-workers said to her, "Don't get kidnapped!" Really, moron? Really? This will be her second time to Europe without me since we've been back in the States. I'm completely jealous and yet totally happy for her solo adventures.

People keep asking us the same question; "How does it feel?"

How did it feel having four kids under five? How did it feel moving my family to Russia? How did it feel when my kids fired me as their home school teacher? Exhausting? Terrifying? Incredible? All these things and more.

Today my husband and I took an American Heart Association First Aid/CPR class which is a requirement for our foster journey. I was required to watch a brief video of this in order to take Number 2 home from the NICU 15 years ago, but other than that, I've never gotten certified. I sure am glad none of my kids have needed it because I wasn't equipped. Sheesh, my house is safer now than it has ever been!

"Are you ok? Are you ok?"
Begin 30 strong chest compressions to the tune of "Stayin' Alive."
Two breaths.
Listen.
Use the AED.
Repeat as needed.

It feels like that. It feels like I have to keep breathing. Keep counting. Keep living.

In the Blood

I like John Mayer. I'm not ashamed. He's one of the great modern day poets. Listen. Really. Here's a song that's got me choked up lately:

How much of my mother has my mother left in me?
How much of my love will be insane to some degree?
And what about this feeling that I'm never good enough?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

How much of my father am I destined to become?
Will I dim the lights inside me just to satisfy someone?
Will I let this woman kill me, or do away with jealous love?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel love the I want, I can feel the love I need
But it's never gonna come the way I am
Could I change it if I wanted, can I rise above the flood?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

How much like my brothers, do my brothers wanna be?
Does a broken home become another broken family?
Or will we be there for each other, like nobody ever could?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel love the I want, I can feel the love I need
But it's never gonna come the way I am
Could I change it if I wanted, could I rise above the flood?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

I can feel the love I want, I can feel the love I need
But it's never gonna come the way I am
Could I change it if I wanted, can I rise above the flood?
Will it wash out in the water, or is it always in the blood?

In our parenting class for prospective foster/adoptive parents, we were making a list of positives and negatives about foster/adopted kids. One I hadn't thought of is that a child who isn't biologically your own won't share your worst behaviors, traits, or family tendencies. You know what I'm talking about. When your kid looks at you with a snotty face and says some cutting remark and it seems familiar, because you've said it and done it in the same way.

But it's also scary. Scary to take on a new person who you don't know. Their origins, their history, their perspective. We've always told our kids out loud, "I'm glad God made you a Goudy." If I believe that, if I really do, then I have to believe that God put me in my family, too. And that God put kids who will come to our home in their families. Obviously, it didn't work out for a time, but it doesn't mean they aren't who they are meant to be.

Family's a tricky thing. It can mean everything to some people, it can mean nothing to others. It can be the beginning of pain or it can be rememberances of deep joy. I won't pretend that my family or my kids are perfect. They aren't because we are people. But they're pretty good at loving and welcoming others in. They're good at putting extra beds up and moving things around to make some space.

Loaded with Expectation

I don't really like Mother's Day. I never have. When I was a kid, it meant that we had to behave properly during church to "honor" our mother and that dad would try a little bit harder to make things easy on mom that day. It meant obligatory flowers and lunch. I always thought that requiring kids to make moms feel special was kind of inauthentic.

As a young mother, it meant that any three out of four years, my kids threw up on me. In my bed. "Happy Mother's Day! Blechhhh." I'm not kidding. I actually quit planning to go to church on those mornings. I also hate the expectation that for one perfect day, my kids are supposed to pepper me with sugary compliments and flowers because that's what everyone else is doing. And Hallmark said so.

One year, some friends of mine were comparing what they were getting for the holiday; diamond necklaces, flowers, a day at the spa. One of my friends said to my kids, "What are you doing for Mother's Day? What does your mom want?" Number 1 said calmly, "All my mom wants, all she's ever wanted, is a quiet day alone."

She's right. I don't want the flowers, the brunch, or the plastered on smiles of small children. I want peace and quiet. A day to ponder.

I'm in Boston as I write this. My husband and I came up here for the weekend to catch a Red Sox game and since I work remotely, for me to visit my office to meet some colleagues face to face for the first time. I forgot it was Mother's Day until I looked at the calendar. When we lived overseas, we didn't really celebrate Mother's Day. They have instead, International Women's Day. I like this much more and here's why.

I know a lot of incredible females. Some of them will never have children. Some have lost children. Some are in custody battles and won't see their kids today. Some are insecure about their parenting and aren't really sure they should have had kids. When I got on the bus in Boston today, the driver asked every female rider if she was a mother. I wondered about their stories. Do they have a child who has died? Maybe one in prison or lives far away? Maybe their kids were placed in Foster Care and they never got them back. I'm not unbiased about this holiday situation. I think Father's Day is equally difficult.

So I'm not going to write about my own motherhood. As I think about new kids coming into my home, I want to minimize my successes and instead cherish what other people teach me. So on that note, I'm going to share a few life lessons that I've learned from my non-mother friends about life and humanity.

One has taught me enthusiasm for the unknown. One has taught me that diving in head first to social justice requires more than 40 hours a week. That having hobbies isn't a crime. That your closet needs well selected quality items to look your best. That traveling alone can be an invigorating experience. That being an aunt/neighbor/mentor is really fun and has great benefits.