Home Hoppers

From the outside, I know we must appear to be completely nuts.  As if adopting while we already have two under three isn't enough, here's the housing situation...

We own a home.  We have had it on the market twice, rented it out once, and are preparing to move out yet again in July.  What's crazier is that we have nothing against our home.  I would go as far as to say, I actually really like it.

We initially listed our home mostly due to concerns about major changes for the surrounding area.  A couple of months in to the listing we had someone ask to rent it, so we moved out and they moved in for the last several months of the listing contract.  During that time Snuggs served as a Courtesy Officer in an apartment complex and we got an AMAZING deal on rent there.  It wasn't a great place to live.  Just imagine what would cause us to create the word "cricketfrogs."  Better yet, imagine me, 8 months pregnant, chasing said "cricketfrogs."  It was less than desirable, but financially it really benefited our family.  We paid off A LOT of debt, and moved back into our home 7 months later with only our car payments left to pay off.  We also decided, at that time that selling our home simply wasn't going to happen, and resolved to just make the best of whatever changes were to come.

Within about two months of moving back in, we began to understand a lot more about Buttercup's needs.  We actually used our master bath as a nursery for several months because it was the quietest place in the house.  She can not stand the sound of white noise, and hears EVERYTHING, so getting her as far away as possible from all of the household sounds was worth the loss of use of a bathroom for a while.  Over time, due mostly to her sound sensitivities, we have discovered that this house is really just not the best situation for our family.  Pair that with the desire to add another child, and we are motivated, once again to change the situation.

We just concluded another listing period, only to have the house not sell yet again.  We have found a family that is committed to renting our home for three years, at a minimum.  So, with everyone thinking we are totally wacko, we plan to move in to an apartment again.  Snuggs will work as a Courtesy Officer yet again, though the financial benefits aren't quite as extreme.  However, the exchange is that it is a MUCH nicer complex, and we will still be cutting our "housing" expenses in half with no "cricketfrogs" to chase.

The plan is to completely pay off our two relatively new Priuses (Priui?) by the end of 2014.  Yes, we are a Dave Ramsey family.  Yes, we have two relatively new, relatively nice cars.  The explanation being that we run a family business that is dependent upon reliable and fuel efficient travel, and as silly as it may sound, the way our vehicles look really does matter to our clients.  It's a hefty hunk of change, but we are praying that God will provide the means for us to do this.  As soon as the cars are paid off we will begin saving for our down payment on a home.  We plan to have 20% down in order to avoid paying PMI.

All of that said, we don't really know what we will do with the home that we currently own after the renters term is completed.  It is doubtful that we will move back in, although it isn't completely ruled out.  If we are to move back in, we will do some MAJOR renovations to make the home more appropriate for our family, especially Buttercup's sound sensitivity.  It is more likely that we will try to continue renting it out, and if we can't we will try to sell it, again. (For the record, being a landlord(ess) was NEVER on my radar for "life plans.")

It's odd, to be "grown ups" and have such a variable housing situation.  It's odd to own a house that we like, but also can't really stand because it torments our child.  It's odd to have a "plan" knowing full well that it probably won't go that way at all.  We've had enough "plans" at this point to know that we shouldn't put much stock in them.

What we do know, without a doubt, is that God will provide for our needs; that we are commanded not to worry about tomorrow.  We know that all of the "stuff" doesn't really matter at all, as long as we have each other and our God.  But, I will admit that all of the funny looks from our friends, followed by even more intimidating lines of questioning, do make me feel like we must surely be off of our rockers.

Insane In The Membrane

Today marked the official start of our adoption process, though the heart work began months ago.  Today a case worker came to our home, answered our questions, walked us through the process, and left us with a mountain of paperwork.  Today it became as official as it will be until we actual welcome a new person in to our home.  We are adopting.

Before meeting Snuggs, I had thought in that dreamy "someday" way that I might adopt when I "grew up".  Then we met and married and agreed from the get go that two kids was right for us.  Cricket was a cake walk.  I had some minor blood pressure issues in the last couple of weeks of his pregnancy, which ultimately led to a very minimal intervention induction.  He was an "easy" baby, and we conceived Buttercup a week before his first birthday.

GAME CHANGER

From the time we got a positive pregnancy test I was so very sick.  I ended up being diagnosed with Hyperemesis Gravidarum, lost 10% of my body weight, couldn't keep down even two measly ice chips, and was hospitalized for dehydration.  We managed to find a combination of medications that "stabilized" me about halfway through the pregnancy.  I'll never forget how weird it felt to be 28 weeks along and happy to have returned to prepregnancy weight instead of below.  Buttercup kept up the shenanigans through her 1 hour and 13 minute labor and delivery in which we just barely made it to the hospital.  I asked them if we got a discount on linen fees since I hadn't ever entered the bed.  They declined.  Rude.

Buttercup screamed-I mean SCREAMED, for about 19 hours out of every 24 for the first six months of her life.  I was baffled.  Emotional, exhausted, and baffled.  I had always been called the "baby whisperer" and had a long history of success at keeping little ones happy.  Around six months she was "diagnosed" with Sensory Processing Disorder.  We started to change the way we looked at her and her needs, and the situation improved overnight-literally, and just kept getting more manageable.

That said, even six months ago I would never have thought we would add to our family.  Buttercup has been a very challenging child.  We planned on two, we were happy with two, we were "done".

Telling the story of how we came to adoption feels just as crazy to me as it will sound to you.

When my moms’ group offered a class focused on the book “7” by Jen Hatmaker, I decided to take the class.  See, “7” is subtitled “An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.”  The focus of Seven is on God, not reducing excess for our own selfish reasons (like my organizational obsession) but reducing excess for the glory of God.  Because there’s truth in that age old statement, “There is enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed.”  In her book, Hatmaker talks about having dozens of nearly identical clothing items, while people all around her are homeless and own only the clothes on their backs.  She goes on to suggest that as Christians, caring for our brethren means caring for others as though they were in fact our family.  If I knew my biological brother had only the clothes on his back, you’d better believe I’d be getting him some more clothes one way or another.

If we are being completely transparent, I took the class in hopes that I would find a way to convince my husband to help the poor in our community.  Before getting married I kept nonperishables in my car to hand out the window when I passed someone in need.  Then I married a cop.  He has seen the worst of the worst.  He has seen kind and caring men and women stop and buy bags of food from a nearby restaurant and hand them to a person in need, only to see the recipient throw the food away untouched.  He has seen well intended handfuls of cash turn into vodka and yield violence.  He has had to physically remove a man who was given a beautiful, warm, furnished place to live but created so much trouble that he was asked to leave.  One might understand how his feelings regarding homelessness could be less than warm and fuzzy.  But, he married a softie; a softie who is crazy about God, nonetheless.  I know, without a doubt that the Bible tells me to care for the least of these, and that it absolutely isn’t my job to judge anyone.  But oh, how we have struggled to know the balance between true need and being taken advantage of, between helping and enabling, between serving and selfishness.  

As the class began, I shared bits and pieces with Snuggs, and together we decided that kicking 2014 off with a combination of “7” and “Financial Peace” would be a seriously powerful way to make our change.  I went through week by week planning to lead him through the study starting in January.  He crunched numbers, made predictions, and traded in our Jeep Wrangler for a Prius.  It almost broke his heart.  

I went through the class taking good notes, learning what I could, and praying like crazy that God would work through this process to affect the necessary change in our lives.  About halfway through the semester, something crazy happened.  God pretty much hit me over the head and set my heart on fire for orphans.  (Um, wait, Lord…THIS wasn’t what I was aiming for here.)  I kept quiet.  I prayed.  I waited (wondering if I had misunderstood His leading).  It didn’t go away.  It grew, and started to drive me a bit mad (in a good way).  I decided that truly, God HAD to be leading me towards orphans even though MY original plan had been to grow a heart for homeless.  

As I contemplated how I might go about bringing my husband on board, I decided that sponsoring a child through Compassion International was probably a good starting place.  I spent some time considering how he might react when I suggested we start sending $38 a month to a complete stranger halfway around the globe.  I prayed some more, waited some more, and researched some more.  Finally, I showed him the pictures of a few children who had caught my attention, hoping he would be okay with the idea, and that eventually, through our sponsorship, he would grow a heart for orphans right along with me, and that we might someday be even more bold in our work for God’s kingdom through this new passion.  

The conversation went something like this:

Me: “Um, honey, I know we are still working to pay off the cars, but being at a place where we don’t have to go without anything we need makes me really aware of the fact that there are CHILDREN who aren’t having their basic needs met, and that we are pretty stinking blessed.  Do you think, maybe, we could help them a little?”

Him: “What?”

Me: “Well, here’s the website for this Christian organization that comes highly recommended by several of my friends.  We can sponsor an orphan and help meet their basic needs by sending $38 a month.  I thought maybe we could narrow it down to a couple of kids and have Cricket choose a child for us to sponsor.”

Him: (after looking at the website for a while) “I don’t really like the idea of sending my money halfway around the world to help some kid I will never even meet, especially when we could just bring a child in to our home and help them with ALL of their needs.  Why don’t we just adopt?”

Me: …>>crickets<<…>>deer in headlights<<…”Ooooookay.”

So, a million conversations, questions, discussions, prayers, phone calls, texts, and debates later...we started the process today.  We are excited, so stinkin' excited.  Also, I've started singing the chorus from "Insane In The Membrane"  as a form of worship, because SERIOUSLY, God?  I have two under three already, a husband who works a completely ridiculous schedule, a family business that has the phone ringing all the ding dong day, and yes, yes, adding another human being to that is surely going to simplify things....right?  Uh, no.  Also, I'm NOT a Grade A role model parent.  I get mad, I yell sometimes, I don't always lead by example, I sneak chocolates when they think I'm organizing the closet.  I totally don't have all of my stuff together.  It's a miracle if my clothes match and nobody else's bodily fluids are dried and crusty on my shoulder.  I saw a "confessions" article in well known parenting magazine last week about a mom who had allowed her child to go 72 hours without a bath.  Oh, the horror.

I can top it...
by more than 24.

Unless you count the pool as a bath, which I do.  Chlorine kills WAY more germs than soap.

So, "baby who God has for us that we don't know yet," (as Cricket and I have been praying at bedtime for months), you may be "pool bathed."  You may occasionally catch me being "unfair," and I will absolutely hide my chocolate from you, but I promise you will be loved like crazy.  Loved like insane in the membrane.