gag-gle noun \ˈga-gəl\ : a group, aggregation, or cluster lacking organization, which is exactly how I feel about my family every day.

Saturday, May 31, 2014


Will volunteered to help at an elementary school last week.  He participated with the kids in painting the aboriginal flag with Q-tips.

And Reese used a book with abstract faces as the inspiration for this work of art:

And some church-related stuff

Friday, May 30, 2014


I was looking back on my blog and I realized I never posted pictures of our Easter eggs.  This might possibly be because we didn't actually make them until a week after Easter, but you need pictures, anyway.

The kids colored the eggs and then picket out
 temporary tattoos to decorate them.

I think we'll use the tattoo idea again.  They were a little tricky to get on the curve of the egg, but generally it was a pretty easy way to make them extra fun for the kids.

The Hardest Thing

I've had a lot of people sympathize with me over the struggles of falling in love with a child in my care and then having to give them up.  Many have told me that they could never be foster parents because of this.

But giving a child back to a family who has worked hard to prove that they can provide a safe home for that child is not what I consider the hardest part of my job.  Truthfully, I feel like that part was a piece of cake.  I had a good cry and now I'm ok.

The hardest part is hearing about a little girl who has been sexually abused. Reading about how they moved her to a relative's house and there she was abused again.  So she was moved to a foster home and a foster sibling was abusive.  So they need a home for this little girl and her younger brother.  Most of the resource families are full can someone take her in?

And I can't. That's the hardest thing about being a foster parent.

Tree Climber

Helmet? Check
Gloves? Check
Stool? Check
"Mama, look at me!  I climbed the tree!"

She later got stuck and needed help getting down.  But I'm still so proud.


We got some big cupcakes from Costco.  The ones that are each the size of four cupcakes.  I cut them in half, which resulted in the frosting being on the side.  This was apparently not good enough for Liam, who threw a tantrum.  When I tried to show him how I scooped a little frosting with my fork before eating from the cakey side, it made things much worse and we went from fussing/crying to screaming/flailing.  

This is so confusing to me.  I didn't even realize that it was possible to be unhappy while eating a yummy cupcake.


"Mama, I have to wear my hat like this so I can play baseball."

Ok, Liam.