Bless This Mess

The homestudy lady looked right at me and asked,

"Can you handle this?"

No, I can't.  God can.

He gives me just enough strength to make it

through each day; every day.

He already does that for me.

Several background checks are required for adoption.  FBI fingerprinting is one of them.  I showed up for this appointment covered in strawberry jelly and a pajama shirt.  It was the best I could do that day.

I brought both kids along with me.

Lilly cried when we got to the courthouse. 

I had to explain that Mommy said we were going to the COURTHOUSE.  Not the CLUBHOUSE. 

Any mom with a toddler who watches Disney channel can understand the type of epic meltdown that occured when she processed this tragic misunderstanding.

A group of rowdy teenagers were blocking the door to the courthouse.  

They moved out of my way.  Quickly.  I was pushing my double stroller full of screaming children, talking to myself:

 

"You can't do this, girl, but God CAN. 

He can get you through this day. 

He will SUSTAIN you. 

Thank you Jesus!   Thank.  You.  Jesus!"

While I was fingerprinted, the young technician casually asked why I was getting FBI clearance. 

"I am adopting a child." 

"Oh..."  She eyed my two toddlers, who were smearing the jelly from the insides of their sandwiches on each others heads.  Lilly proceeded to lick the jelly off of Daisy's head during the pause, while the technician and I stared.

She sighed heavily.  She must think I am nuts.

"...That's wonderful."  She said it purposefully.  She squeezed my ink-convered hand. But I could also tell she would not trade her job with mine for a second.  I remember why, too. 

I remember working.   In a classroom... 

...wearing shirts WITHOUT jelly smeared down the front of them.  Students with sunny faces yelling "SPOOOOOOTZ" and running to hug me when they saw me down a long hall. 

Having a lanyard and other official grown up tools and badges. 

I miss this.

Seeing the moms with morning hairdos and frantic faces in the drop off lines...

I said I was going to be different.  I was not going to have jelly on my shirts in public.

I was going to be the "Cool" mom. 

After all, I was the cool teacher. 

How hard could it be?

Oh, the joys that come with a jelly-stained shirt. 

Morning cuddles. 

Jesus stories in our pajamas. 

Teaching my children at our kitchen table.

Thank you for giving me sanity

in the midst of this insanity.

Thank you for sustaining me.