Kimbrough, Party of Nine!

I haven't posted in a while.   Life with seven kids is busy.  There is not much time to sit, much less sit to write. Honestly, life with seven kids is more than just busy. It is exhausting. It is, at times, hard and frustrating. I was only marginally competent at momming my own kids, so throwing four more in the mix has really enhanced my maternal inadequacies.

The biggest battle that I am losing is keeping the house clean. I have given up on having only a load or two of laundry waiting for me. Now I feel accomplished when the clothes are not spilling out of the hampers onto the floor.   I try to keep the living room and kitchen presentable in case a door-to-door salesman, a Girl Scout, or a caseworker should stop by, but the kids’ rooms and playroom look like the proverbial tornado hit them.

I am a complete failure at daily backpack checks this school year. With counseling and family visits and robotics and golf and gymnastics, all of the kids are coming and going all afternoon and evening most days, so the routine that I once had doesn’t exist right now.  Backpacks are no longer placed on the kitchen counter for me to search like a vigilant TSA employee.  I take their word for it that homework is complete and there is nothing for me to read or sign.  The teacher in me cringes as I admit this, but it is what it is for now.

Asher making waffles for the kids

Policing kindness is a full-time job with seven kids, so I have learned to choose carefully what needs my intervention and what can be used as character building opportunities. Just the other day, Kingston told the littlest one that if she didn’t stop sucking her fingers that “momma’s gonna cut ‘em off.”  (And no, I don’t make this a practice in my home.)  Some moms would have chastised him for such a harsh remark, reassured her that it would never happen, and maybe even had him apologize for it.  A year ago, I would have intervened, too. Not that day.  I remained silent, except for the muffled giggled I tried to hide.  My decision to pull an Elsa and let it go was good for both of them: she got a quick lesson that actions could have dire consequences, and his budding personality was not stifled by a reprimand.

I am all for keeping the lies about the mythical characters of childhood alive as long as possible. Right now I am fighting desperately to keep the little darlings who love my high heels out of my closet where the Santa magic is being hidden. But this tooth fairy gig may be the death of me. I am seriously ready to come clean with them all.  I have four girls currently in the tooth-losing phase. In one week, every single girl lost a tooth. I don’t know why it is so hard for me to retrieve the tooth and replace it with a dollar or two before waking the kids for school, but it is an absolute struggle.  It can be the last thing on my mind as I close my eyes to sleep, and I still forget to do it when I wake.  I have had to get really creative to keep my skeptical 5th-grade girls still believing, but so far, so good.

Coloring contests help me organize the chaos in the house!

The list goes on and on. I feel like a complete failure most days when it comes to the duties of motherhood. But for some reason, the kids don’t see any of it (well, except when I burn the bread.) They don’t seem to recognize any of my shortcomings. Instead, they treat me like I am the best mom in the world.  They race to meet me at the door when I get home. They fight each other to sit on my lap. They long to hug and kiss me whenever they get the chance.  They love me so very much even though I seem to fail them daily.  That is the beauty of this mess, and that is why I haven't thrown in the towel.

Never lacking a workout partner or two

            I was reminded the other day on my way to work, as I listened to the Word, that God uses the inadequate to fulfill his purposes: Abraham, Moses, Paul, David. There are so many more.  He uses the flawed, the weak, and the least likely for the job.  I find peace and confidence in that.

And so we finish out 2018, our seventh year of fostering, with seven kids. I am not sure how much longer we will be a party of nine because our girls will most likely be leaving us in the coming months. One set of sisters is looking for a forever family, and the other set will be going back to live with dad.  So by summer, I am sure we will be back to the manageable number of three, maybe four.  This will probably never happen again---our taking four fosters at one time--- but I am so glad we didn’t say no.  It has been the craziest, busiest, most beautiful months of my life.   

Taking a Break

From December 2011 (when Olivia first walked through our front door) to December 2017 (when a sweet blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy walked out of it), we have had a constant stream of little ones to watch over through foster care. Since we had encountered some challenges with a few of the last kids in our home, I willfully agreed with my husband and son when they suggested a short break from fostering. I knew that I needed to refuel and that our kids needed some one-on-one attention from us. It also lined up perfectly with the Christmas holidays and a short visit from Seth.

Little did I know that my definition of a break and my boys’ definition would be as big of a misunderstanding as Ross and Rachel’s.  

The holidays came and went, the second semester of school started, and Olivia and I were ready to foster again.  To my surprise, Ben and Asher were not. They were enjoying life with just us. Ash wasn’t even sure he wanted to do it anymore; I was shocked.  However, we were a foster family, so I had no choice but to submit to their wishes. 

I didn’t let them know it right away, but I was struggling with the situation. I felt useless. I felt like I had a calling but I wasn’t walking it out.  What if my boys no longer wanted to foster? How could that be when there was still a desire in my heart?  Would God allow that to happen? Was God actually bringing this chapter of my life to a close and using my husband and son to do so?And so weeks passed, and I continued to pray about the situation.

Now February was approaching, and I needed answers. I needed to foster again or I needed to start reconciling with the fact that we were no longer going to be a foster family.  And if that were the case, how would God use me now? To my surprise, my boys were ready.  I could feel useful again.

Then more frustration. Placement calls were coming, but we couldn't say yes to the kids who needed a home:  children with disabilities we were not trained for, challenging teens who might negatively affect our own kids, babies and toddlers but no open spots at any daycares in my area. 

I began to think maybe our fostering days were, in fact, over. Maybe since I finally got my boys on board, God had to use other circumstances to hinder me from keeping a door ajar that He intended to shut.  

Valentine’s Day passed, and it had been two months since we had fostered, and the uncertainty of our future with foster care was killing me. In total frustration, I did what I should have done a month before. See, I prayed over the situation, but I never fully released it to the Lord. I held on to it, worried over it, and allowed it to steal some peace and joy from my days during that time.

Surely I am not the only one who does that, right? We want His help but just can't fully release it into His care. I continually asked Him to take control of the situation, but I never put it down so He could pick it up.  I continued to walk away from prayer with it still cradled in my arms.  In the instant that I truly surrendered it to God, He whispered "rest" into my spirit....probably something He had been wanting to tell me for two months. 

For three whole weeks, I actually enjoyed a nice quiet life with just my husband and three kiddos without any restlessness in regard to fostering. God also used that time to remind me of some very important things. Foster care is not my only calling.  He has given me children of my own—I am called to be a momma.  He has given me other kids to instruct and positively influence—I am called to be a teacher.  He has placed women in my life who need me--- I am called to be a friend. The impact I make is not limited to just my role as a foster mom.  I knew all of that...I just needed a little reminder.

Fast forward to today. As I sit in front of my laptop with my coffee in hand, the most beautiful chaos is happening just steps away.  Seven kids---yes, seven!----are in the kitchen enjoying waffles made by Asher. There is excited laughter coming from the newest little ones as momma-hen Olivia adds the toppings they want. Jazzie is squealing because she is getting chocolate chips and chocolate syrup, and King is jumping from the stool to the countertop as he sings the PJ Masks theme song.  Glasses are clanging on the countertops, and if this meal ends as most others do lately, I will be cleaning up spilled milk in a few moments.  Most people would ---and some do---come into my house and think I am crazy.  I may be, but I can’t imagine it any other way right now. 

Now I can look back and see exactly what God was doing from December to March.  Those months of uncertainty were only uncertain to me. God already knew what the summer months held for us and that a break was exactly what our family needed before our house was full again.

Failing Tests

In the classroom, my goal as a teacher is to enable my students to master skills in English. I introduce new information or concepts, offer my students practice in the application of the material through literature and writing, and give a culminating task or test to see if my kiddos got it. 

God does the same thing with us in life. 

I am currently in a study of the fruit of the Spirit along with some of my teacher-friends, and last week, my focus was love.  The 1st Corinthians 13 kind of love—you know, patient, kind, not easily angered, keeps no record of wrongs and does not delight in evil love. 

When asked what the greatest commandment is, Jesus replies in Matthew 22:37-38 to love the Lord with all of your heart, soul, and mind.  He then states the second greatest commandment in verse 39, which is to love your neighbor as yourself.

I had spent morning after morning diving into scriptures about loving others, about not offending others, and even about "turning the other cheek." I had studied the perfect model of love through Christ’s service here on Earth and his sacrifice on the cross. How could I not pass a test to show that I understood the material?

Test day came---without warning, might I add. 

I am certain that had it been multiple choice or essay format, I would have done well, but it’s a struggle when the test is real-world application of the material.  

Of course, He wouldn’t test me with someone that I already loved because that would be too easy.  It had to be someone unlovable. I knew that much so I kept my attention focused, waiting for a perfect stranger in a bad mood to cross my path, but there was no obnoxious telemarketer or irritated cashier.  In fact, He kept it so literal that I missed it.  Yes, He used a neighbor.  

I was folding clothes and singing along with Jesus Culture when my phone rang.  Within seconds of the call that started my love test, I was talking of baking up a chocolaty, laxative-enriched pie to deliver to their front door. Everything that 1 Corinthians 13 says love is was not in my being at that moment. I was angry and frustrated, and I was plotting something counter to all that I had been studying.

Romans 12:16-19

Now, I would never be that vindictive, but I could talk the talk on the phone with my husband, right?  Yet, even in our attitude and words, not just our physical actions, we should have a spirit of love. Friends, that is extremely hard. 

It is hard because it is a deliberate decision that we must make, and it can’t be based on our emotions.  It is also not optional. 1 John 4:21 states that “whoever loves God must also love his brother.”  Must—that doesn’t leave us any wiggle room, does it? So as Christians, we must show love no matter what emotion we might be feeling at the moment---even when others around us are not doing the same thing.

Now normally, my husband is my biggest cheerleader and co-conspirator. On any other day, he would have --in jest, of course-- offered to stop by the drug store to pick up the special ingredient or even suggested a better plan than I had originally devised.  However, his response was uncharacteristic and, frankly, caught me a bit off guard. (Actually, I believe some angelic host must have momentarily taken possession of him in order to get my spirit in check.) Ben’s words to me were God’s way of telling me that I was choosing the wrong answer. 

So instead of searching for the Ex-Lax, I rethought my attitude toward the situation given all that I had studied. Then I did something that I had heard many times at church and something that was very awkward and difficult: I said a very quick prayer that God would bless my neighbors.

One thing that I will challenge my bible study girls with this week as we study love is to pray for someone in their lives whom they find hard to love.  So before I give the assignment, I am doing it myself.  I have committed to pray every morning that my neighbors will have a very blessed, happy life.   (I might also be praying that God blesses them with a lucrative, rewarding job opportunity that relocates them to a place they have always wanted to live.  ---Look, I am trying.) And I will continue to say little prayers for them until it isn’t so hard. And maybe by the time that awesome job takes them somewhere far away, I can send them off with some delicious cupcakes that won’t cause frequent bathroom visits.

So I am expecting many more unlovable people in my future because I am clearly not proficient in this skill yet. I just really wish God would consider using the Remind app so that I could get a text about upcoming tests.

Ben

Honeymoon in Jamaica

April 30, 2005, was our first date.  I initially accepted for the free sushi. Frankly, I was somewhat baffled about why a cute 27-year-old with the world at his fingertips would even be interested in a newly divorced 33-year-old hot mess with two kids. Turns out that he didn’t know any of that until he was already smitten. 

It didn’t take long for me to see that he wasn't just a hot Polynesian I could use as my arm candy.  Ben was extremely smart and insanely funny on top of being nice to look at. We also liked the same things: the beach, John Milton, and cheesecake. He proposed, I said yes, and the rest is history.  

Today marks another year that he continues to stay committed to being married to me despite all my shortcomings and occasional emotional instability. 

In lieu of getting him the traditional 12-year anniversary gift of silk, I am feeding him 50-cent corndogs from Sonic and writing this post (which he will never see because he doesn’t read my blog.)

Here are 10 things I love about Ben:

10.       I love that after a long week of work, he still gets up early on Saturdays to make me breakfast.

9.         I love that he can enter a conversation with anyone and talk intelligently about any topic even though he doesn’t watch sports, the news, or much else on TV.  He knows something about everything!

May 24, 2006

8.         I love that he still opens doors for me.

7.         I love that he listens to my crazy life dreams--like moving to a tropical island to run an orphanage and dog rescue-- and smiles and says that we can do them all.

6.         I love when I get a minor cut or abrasion (and writhe around on the floor like I am dying) that he gets his first-aid kit and doctors my wounds as if they need serious medical attention. 

5.         I love that he can stay calm and rational in moments that send me into a tizzy. 

4.         I love that he never asks me to stop singing and  

             dancing around the house even though I am off 

             key and spastic and it is probably pure torture to endure.

3.         I love that he watches our five kiddos without a word of complaint anytime I want to workout, get my nails done, shop, or have a girls’ night.

2.         I love that he loves Jesus with all his heart.

1.         Have you seen those arms?

The list could go on and on because Ben is patient, loving, kind, and selfless when it comes to being my husband.  I couldn't have dreamed of having a better man to do life with. 

Now if I could only get him to realize that the toilet paper goes over and not under.....

May 19, 2018

...I found him 

whom my soul loveth

Song of Solomon 3:4