Finally Final

1,406 days ago Alyssa and Lucas joined us in our home.

Today they joined us in our name.

Introducing:

Alyssa Christen Batliner & 

Lucas James Batliner!

It's been a hopeful and joyful, yet uncertain, depleting and frustrating journey for all 5 of us, but we made it.  We didn't do it alone, though.

God shone His light on our path even at our darkest moments and while He did it through His word, through music, through happy surprises and unexpected rest, He mostly did it through people, His hands and feet.  From the very first day so many people have reached in to carry us... 

There are definitely as many people as there have been days, but in listing a few (in semi-chronological order), we hope to thank you all :

*The Bair Foundation for training us and walking with us through our foster care season then counseling us when we had the opportunity to take in Alyssa & Lucas,

*Mrs Pat for your persistence and determination throughout,

*Meredith Wright for placing the children with us and walking with us through the custody case,

*Charlie for whole-heartedly embracing the role off big brother from day one (the good, the bad and the ugly),

*BaBa/Mom for dropping everything to spend their first week with us... And with PaPa for dropping everything time and again to love us so well,

*Mom/Pat for letting all 5 of us live you during renovations... And for being their Grandma without hesitation,

*Our family & friends in Charleston, Kansas City and beyond for treating Alyssa & Lucas like Batliners from the beginning,

*JICS teachers, staff and families: First, Mr Schwartz for introducing us in the first place, then so many of you for listening and loving us so well as we've navigated this path we chose,

*FJBC family for being the Christ-centered community that each of the 5 of us needs. 

*Moms in Prayer for praying diligently, faithfully, without ceasing for Alyssa & Lucas' best interests and all of our hearts,

*Ocean Sun Counseling for walking alongside us through the hardest parts with laughter and consistency and so much grace,

*Jacqueline Anthony for using your knowledge and experience and strength and courage to fight for our family,

* Emily Ayers for boldly representing Alyssa & Lucas and their best interests,

*Judge Daniel E. Martin for looking at the history and facts of the case, seeing that enough was enough and deciding in Alyssa & Lucas' favor.

Each and every one of you made today possible.  You carried us when we were out of strength or energy or hope, and I beg you to KEEP IT UP!

There are thousands upon thousands of children throughout South Carolina and beyond who need safe, loving homes.  Please seek out the families called to foster, adopt, etc and carry THEM. 

Listen to them, hug them, bring them dinner, babysit for them, make them laugh, ask them how they're doing, pray for them... 

They need you more than they will ever tell you, and likely more than they even realize.

The book of James says that true religion is visiting the widows and orphans.  I believe that many, many of us are called to open our homes, but all of us are called to carry those who do.

Thank you all so much for carrying us so well! 

❤️

Jason, Jenny, Charlie, Alyssa & Lucas Batliner

A week ago I received a respite call from Bair for this past weekend.  We didn't have any obvious conflicts, so I called Jason and we said yes -- but on my end it was a very hesitant yes.

Since L & J last summer we have had at least a dozen calls, been conflict free for at least half and for every single one the child has either been placed by the time we called back or the respite has been cancelled at the last minute.  After no placement for seven months, my mind was overflowing with memories from our two bad situations and could barely summon any memories from the eight good stays we'd had.

Plus, A was to be our first "Medically Fragile" placement.  Therapeutic Foster care has two primary sides -- the children with diagnoses (typically ADD, ADHD, Separation Anxiety, etc) and medicated for those and the children with serious illnesses or conditions.  Our previous ten placements had all been diagnoses, so this was a whole new world.

A is a 7 year old girl with Angelmans Syndrome, which is caused by an abnormality on chromosome 15.  She looks like an average 7 year old girl, but is nonverbal, struggles to walk, has limited body control, needs very little sleep, and struggles to get it.  The write-ups also say that she has the mental capacity of a toddler -- but we believe A is much more advanced than anyone can tell.

In the days leading up to her placement, I was terrified and silently hoping this would be yet another false start.  Thankfully last week was extraordinarily busy for me, so I didn't have much time to worry.

Friday morning I realized that should I need to take care of Jason or Charlie as if they were a baby, I would do it without pause because I love them, so I prayed that God would give me love for A.  I asked my Moms in Prayer group to pray that God would give me love for A. I asked my friend Becky to pray that God would give me love for A.

Just after 6:00 Friday evening, I glanced through the front window and saw A's foster mom walking her to the door while I was cleaning up a minor mashed potato mess, so Charlie answered the bell.  As I walked up behind him, I caught a glimpse of A's smiling face as her uncooperative body struggled to climb the stairs, and I was filled with love for her.  For her smile.  For her dimple.  For her beautiful face.  For her effort.  For her struggle.  God met me right where I was and showered me with mercy and grace and love.

A has an awesome stroller, so she and I spent Saturday out and about in the glorious weather.  We walked to the Wappoo Ramp for a quick hello with the boys as they set off fishing.  We walked to Grandma's for a long chat.  We walked to the store for a crinkly toy.  We walked almost all the way back to the store from almost all the way home after we dropped our crinkly toy...in total we walked around 9 miles.  It was wonderful.

God had already taken a frightening situation and shown me it's blessing, but about 4 miles into our walk, He shattered many of my preconceived notions about service and love and obedience and purpose...

As I was pushing A away from the ramp and deciding which direction to head next, I suddenly understood that what I had wanted to refuse wasn't a weekend of hard work and trial taking care of a little girl with special needs.  I had come unspeakably close to passing up an entire day dedicated to loving God.  A day with no other purpose, no other commitment, no other interruption and no other priority than loving God.  All day.             In words.  In actions.  In miles.

What I saw as a chore He had given me as a gift -- and through His grace alone, I didn't succumb to my desire to say no.

Sunday morning at the end of church we took A up front and asked some members of the prayer team to pray that wherever she ends up it will be in a home filled with the gospel -- God's love and truth.  He has already blessed her with a joy and peace that humble everyone she meets when we compare her abilities with ours -- but as I told Charlie, A is absolutely perfect.  God doesn't make mistakes, and while she may not be what we consider "normal," she is exactly who God created her to be.  And her greatest need is the very same as ours -- Him.

"If you love Me, you will keep my commandments."

John 14:15

Figures...

So eleven days, three bites, two scratches that drew blood, and countless tears in, with two hours to go Charlie & J decide to get along.  They are actually purposely playing together in the backyard.  Kids are amazing.

"Behold, I am the Lord, the God of all flesh.

Is anything too hard for me?"

(Jeremiah 32:27)

A difference...

If nothing else, the last 9 months or so of foster care has taught me that 39 years of living has done nothing to give me realistic expectations.  Virtually nothing turns out like I think it will...sometimes it's harder, but often it's much better.

That said, I had a startling realization around 5:00 this morning.  Poor Charlie is now trudging through L's stomach bug of Tuesday (so much for that iron stomach I touted). Since his bout struck right at bedtime, we settled him on an air mattress in our room, unsure of how often he would be sick or his ability to handle it in his sleep, not to mention that his bedroom is carpeted and ours isn't.

Throughout the night my poor boy was up every 45 minutes to two hours...and when I say "up", I mean getting sick, a few times I'm pretty sure he was actually still mostly asleep and just rolling over to his bowl.  Having him in our room made it very easy to hear, help, comfort and clean him, but as any mom knows, waking up five times in the night to vomit is not pleasant.

What I realized in the wee hours this morning though was that I truly didn't mind.  I hate that my boy is sick and miserable and going to miss a couple of playdates, but jumping out of bed, holding his head, wiping his brow and cleaning his bowl were exactly what I wanted to be doing.

The thing is, if I'm honest with myself, I wouldn't have felt the same way if L's illness had struck in the night.  I don't know if it's because I've only known him a few weeks, because I didn't carry him in my belly, because he doesn't share my DNA or what...but I honestly believe that for anyone other than Charlie I would have resented every bit of last night.  I would be frustrated and grumpy and playing up my tiredness and the intermittent "sympathetic" nausea I felt.

I didn't think it would be that way.  My childhood love of orphan novels and my pride led me to believe that opening our home to foster children would turn me into an altruistic angel of some sort, but I'm not.  For now at least, I am still Charlie's mom trying to help other people's kids... I do wonder (hope?  fear?) if that will change, though.

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.

(Colossians 3:23)

"I'll give you a dollar if you can get him to stay in your room with you."

I guess that's what a puking baby, a sneaky 7 year old and major confusion between DSS and Bair did to me today.

It was supposed to be an easy day.  DSS was supposed to pick up J at 9:15 to take her to a forensic interview to follow up on the altercation at her previous home and then on to camp until Friday afternoon.  Charlie and I were going to take L to daycare and then have a quiet day.  Well, J woke up nervous and manipulative -- not surprising with the meeting and camp today, but still very trying.  Then at breakfast L vomited about 8 ounces of milk and half a bowl of oatmeal into the highchair.

Around 9:30 I tried to get a hold of the DSS caseworker, but his phone went straight to voicemail and it was full.  I texted, but received no response.  At this point I was getting nervous that J was going to miss her 10:00 meeting and not get to go to camp at all, so I called Bair.  Apparently the meeting was always at 1:00, so we had almost three hours to kill and a still vomiting baby.

By 12:15 all four of us were restless and ready to get out of the house.  Just as J was gathering up her new pink, heart duffle bag and I was brushing my teeth, L vomited all over our bedroom floor.  Thankfully, I had intended to leave early, so I thought we were still on track....right up until we were en route and I realized we'd left J's medication on the kitchen counter.

So we turned around, texted everyone involved at a red light and were soon headed back in the right direction, medication in hand and only a few minutes behind.  Then we followed a car with Minnesota plates who chose not to go anywhere near the speed limit, take up both lanes on Spring Street and stop at every single light.  We were late.

Just as the GPS told me we were at our location (nowhere to be seen), L again vomited, this time missing the towel I had draped over him, coating himself and pooling in the deep dark crevices of the carseat.

Apparently the Lowcountry Childrens Center is unmarked.  We eventually did find it, the DSS worker met us in the street to whisk J in for her meeting, and Charlie and I kept L awake almost all the way home in hopes of getting a good nap.

Thankfully, following a massive clean up, L did nap, and Charlie and I got to watch a mini marathon of Tiny House Big Living  before he woke up.  Unfortunately, L's greatest comfort in life is food, and with today's events I am limiting him to very small helpings of very bland food, so he is not very happy -- and apparently his greatest stress reliever is screaming.

That is where my "offer" to Charlie came in.  It appeared that the two might play together for a few minutes and I could sneak in a couple chapters of I John to just reset, but L wasn't going for it.   I will admit, at first it was just a snide remark, and I immediately felt guilty, but then when I saw Charlie's eyes light up, I realized it could be considered babysitting, so off they went.  Charlie definitely gave it his best effort, but when I could tell he was using his body to try to keep the door closed, I called it off assuring him that he could still have the dollar for his effort.

I really don't remember how quiet or loud life was when Charlie was 21 months old.  I do know that he was blessed with an iron stomach, though, so I have cleaned up more vomit in the past 8 hours than I have in my entire life.  I also know that while his natural selfishness drives me insane, it is a lot easier to parent a horrible liar than an excellent one.  (Charlie even remarked last night how amazing it is that J can lie without even smiling a little bit).

Parenting is hard.  Parenting children that you have not raised is hard.  Parenting a sick child is hard.  Parenting three children is hard....  and I have not yet come up with any hopeful or self-edifying conclusion to this day.

We are good, though.  No one is crying at the moment.  There is no fresh vomit.  And that will have to do.  I have a very persistent 7 year old waiting for his dollar.

It is better that you should not vow

than that you should vow and not pay.

(Ecclesiastes 5:5)

How soon we forget...

A quiet baby is a dangerous baby.

Jason was watching the kids this morning while I got ready for church.  He and Charlie were watching Mountain Men while J played on her tablet, and L wandered around babbling and singing.  Everyone was happy.

Eventually, I heard L out in our bedroom chattering away and banging some blocks, but thought nothing of it -- our house is safely baby proofed.  Then, when I stepped out to find a shirt, the dangers of babyhood came flooding back to me - L is not baby proofed.  He was sitting in the doorway with his diaper was off, and his hands, arms, the floor and the block were all covered in poop.  Ugghhh....

I stared for a minute.  We already knew that he wasn't accustomed to a diet so high in fruit and vegetables, but this was his second doozy in 2 hours!  Then I asked a 21 month old why he took off his diaper.  I believe my exact words were, "Haven't we talked about this?!"  And yes, he just laughed... Ugghhh...

Anyway, trapped in our room, I hollered for Jason to help.  He asked how and I just blankly stared at him down the hallway.  Clearly this is not an "on-call" worthy incident, but seriously.  We never had this happen with Charlie.  Then, just as we were about to bring ourselves around to sensible adult action, L licked his hand!  Ugghhh....

So, I ordered Jason to grab the wipes, I took the block, and we got to business.  Next, I ordered Jason to grab the baby and take him to the bath (after all, I was trapped in our room behind the mess and we only have a shower -- yay!), and I got to work.  Ugghhh...

As I scrubbed with wipes then clorox, I listened to Jason repeatedly ask, "Why did you do this?" of a 21 month old in the bath down the hall.  Clearly, we were made for each other.

Anyway, the baby is clean, the floor is immaculate, Jason is in the shower and all is well.  Plus, through this incident I did discover many things to be thankful for.  Among them:

• Charlie is potty trained
• Our bedroom floor is not carpet
• We have no bathtub in the master bedroom
• George had somehow become locked in the garage and wasn't discovered until after the incident
• There is no one in the world I would rather walk through crazy with than Jason

Scarcely had I passed them

when I found him whom my soul loves.

I held him and would not let go.

(Song of Solomon 3:4)

Help

I have always been a fiercely independent person.  For years I took pride in this, considering it a strength, but slowly I have begun to realize that like most other social strengths, it is rooted in my pride, not in God's sufficiency.

And in the past couple of days, my ongoing effort to loosen my grip on control and self-righteousness have born fruit.

Having the humility and grace to say yes to an offer of dinner from a sweet friend (and amazing chef!) for this evening has given me something to look forward to all day along, as well as the freedom of not having to even think about making dinner (yay!).

Accepting a $20 refund on the purchase of a used twin bed from a lady from church has given me the opportunity to share our journey and learn from her wisdom and experience.

And asking a close friend to see if she may have a hand-me-down swimsuit for J to take with her to camp may get me out of a shopping trip!

Yes, I am asking these three kind women to sacrifice time, energy and resources for me, all of which I could find within myself if I had to, and my pride struggles with that.  My selfish desire for control struggles with that.  But I truly believe we will all be better for it. The children's needs are being met, I am feeling less overwhelmed and very loved, and these wonderful women are doing God's work.

And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water

because he is a disciple,

truly, I say to you,

he will by no means lose his reward.

(Matthew 10:42)