"Yes" when I can, "No" when it counts.

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Three years ago I posted this pic of 2½  year old Charlie Grace on Instagram with the caption:

Working on Saying YES to her this summer.

Yes to shoes on the wrong feet.

Yes to running through a random sprinkler on our walk.

Yes to two Hello Kitty bandaids instead of one.

#YESwhenIcan #NOwhenItcounts

It was the beginning of Summer and we were on an after-dinner walk with daddy and baby Will {who was a new little visitor in our home at the time. cue ugly cry because time flies and he called me mama spontaneously this week}. This photo perfectly captures Charlie’s joy; but when I look at it, the thing I remember most is how much stress this moment caused me and how hard it was for me to say ‘yes’ and allow her to run through that sprinkler. That probably sounds crazy to you, but hear me out.
I have an anxious personality. My mind automatically jumps to the worst case scenario and the ‘what ifs’. What if she slips and falls in the puddles from the sprinklers and knocks out her front teeth?  Wearing her shoes on the wrong feet will cause her to have lifelong gait problems! Giving her two bandaids when she only needs one is teaching her wastefulness! and on and on. That’s the way my brain works. If it can go wrong in any way, I’ve already predicted it and now my answer is ‘no’.
I wouldn’t label myself as a helicopter parent, per se {and you might be rolling your eyes and calling me a liar at that statement}, but I totally own up to having hovering and protecting tendencies. Ideally, I’d like my parenting style {and CB’s} to be somewhere in the middle between Helicopter and Free Range, and we’re still working on finding that nice balance. I need to let go of some of those hovering/protecting tendencies because I don’t want my anxieties to negatively shape the way my kiddos see the world. The more effort I put into preventing them from experiencing anything bad or hurtful, the more I rob them of chances to build coping skills, confidence, and problem solving abilities.
In order to make sure I’m not micromanaging them and I’m allowing them to try things out without my cloud of anxiety hovering over them, I follow a simple rule each Summer:
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YES it’s fine if you have another popsicle.
OF COURSE you can wear your high heels and Batman mask to the store.
SURE you can take all the cushions and pillows off the couch and make an obstacle course the likes of which even American Ninja Warrior can’t compete.
YOU BETCHA you can paint your own nails, doncha know.
ABSOLUTELY you can read 12 books before bed.

{that is… read them to yourself. Mommy’s max book count is 2 per night}

YUP, I’ll let you guys sit in that giant 9 seater Target cart that looks like a car and you think is fun because you get your own steering wheel. I can’t wait to get in some good cardio pushing you all around.
FER SHER you can use all the pompoms, googly eyes, and glue on one square inch of construction paper that will eventually be thrown away, doncha know.
ROGER THAT on the ‘doing your own hair’ thing. It’s going to look amazing.
10-4. You can use your kid watering can to drown all my plants and wash all the mulch down to the gutter.
NO,  YOU MAY NOT CUT YOUR OWN HAIR. I draw the ‘yes’ line at scissors + hair.
We’re not saying ‘yes’ so our kiddos will like us and think of us as friends. We say ‘yes’ when we can so our ‘no’ responses are meaningful. If our kiddos come to us with requests expecting and assuming an immediate refusal because we always say ‘no’, they might stop asking and instead start doing without permission. The respectful communication lines we’ve built might start to close.
I will never forget the time in 7th grade that my mom gave me a ‘yes’ response to my crazy, ridiculous request. Back in the day when I was in 7th grade I had braces and glasses and bangs. Let me clarify: I had bangs, but I also have curly hair, so instead of a nice fringe bang that hung down and framed my cute face in a hella fresh way, they sort of stuck out like a little tangled tumbleweed on my forehead. So while we all had our issues in middle school…. I had it bad y’all. For some crazy reason, it was cool at my school {and particularly on my bus} to make your own fun-dip and bring it to school. That is, mix sugar and Kool-Aid packets together.  DON’T ASK ME HOW THE MIDDLE SCHOOL MIND WORKS. I was one once just as you were but I DO NOT KNOW. I can’t help you understand your middle schooler. Anyway, I guess it was like drugs for the kids who were cool but not willing to get mixed up in the hardcore drugs and get kicked off the football team. So….. DIY fun dip. Let’s call it Fip {fake fun dip}. I wanted my own Fip so badly, but in my 7th grade mind I just knew my mom would think it was ridiculous and wasteful and I shouldn’t care what other kids think of me and yada yada. So I tried making some in secret, but I guess I made a lot of noise climbing onto the kitchen counters to dig for the Kool-Aid packs and she caught me. But, y’all, she didn’t embarrass me or even really ask probing questions as to why I wanted it. She said YES. She even gave me a cute little Tupperware container to carry it in. I was all that and a bag of chips on the bus that week and I still remember that ‘yes’ to this day.
To me, instead of just hearing ‘yes’, I heard “I see that this is something important to you, so it’s important to me too”. Such a simple event, but it really strengthened the roots of my relationship with my mom. Our foundation of respect became solid because she respected me. In turn, I was more willing to respect her decisions as my parent, even if they were a ‘no’.
This post might not strike you as meaningful if your parenting style is on the other end of the spectrum as mine, where ‘yes’ comes easy to you and your kids are living their best life knowing you’ll let them do their own thing. But maybe you’re like me and you keep a tight reign on every experience and let your worries and need for control guide your decision making. Let’s keep in mind, if all our responses are ‘no’, that word begins to lose some weight. When we save ‘no’ for when it truly matters, it gains meaning and respect.
It’s a true balancing act, but so important for us as parents to find that ‘just right’ relationship between protecting our kiddos and giving them freedom to experience things and make their own decisions, no matter their age. It starts this summer…. because baby steps. Join me! #TheSummerOfYes
Ait, I’m gonna bounce.

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For Every Mom

Mamas. I see you. All of you.
healthy mamas. sick mamas. single mamas. working mamas. foster mamas. grandma mamas. lonely mamas. birth mamas. teacher mamas. happily-married mamas. teen mamas. heartbroken mamas. brave mamas. aunt mamas. grieving mamas. elderly mamas. hope-to-be mamas. soon-to-be mamas. desperate-to-be mamas. aren’t-able-to-hold-their-baby mamas. ashamed mamas. adoptive mamas. extra-needs-kiddo mamas. overwhelmed mamas. sleep-deprived-brand-new mamas. fierce mamas. struggling-to-bond-with-their-baby mamas. social-worker mamas. NICU mamas. Neighbor mamas. Soccer mamas.
All who mother in one capacity or another are honored this Mother’s Day. Each one of us walks a different motherhood path, and it is absolutely necessary for us to approach one another with love and grace at the forefront.  Some of us mamas may be struggling this weekend. Possibly because our mama path involves heartache or painful experiences.
This weekend, Will’s first mama is on my mind and heart. To be completely honest, she is always on my mind. I think when two women mother the same human they are connected in the most unique, heart-binding way. I can’t ever express to her how grateful I am that she chose life for her son. I don’t want to share too many details, because that is her life and her story to tell, but I know she LOVES William and not having the chance to raise him was not her choice. She is God’s creation. He loves her. He grieves when she grieves. So I love her and I grieve when she grieves. I know she is grieving this weekend and I am heartbroken over that fact. It is an impossible situation to bring clarity to and to process in your mind and heart: I am totally obsessed with and completely in love with my son, whose first mother is also completely in love with him yet doesn’t get to see him or hold his chubby hand or kiss his squishy cheeks. Yet together, we are motherhood.
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So let’s not assume all mothers feel loved and appreciated this mother’s day. Throw LOVE around like confetti. Be a bringer of grace to those who need it. Look around your neighborhood, family, school, church, and workplace. Who can you identify that might not be celebrating this mother’s day with joy and cheer? Wade into their grief or sadness or shame to meet them. You don’t have to have the perfect words to say and it’s best not to come crashing in with suggestions and solutions, simply acknowledge that they are seen and loved.
We see you mamas! We know today is a hard day but we acknowledge you and your struggle, and more importantly, God sees you and your struggle. He is the HOPE dealer. The JOY bringer. The SHAME eraser. The HEART healer. and you may feel like you are done with breathing, but God is literally the LIFE breather.  And if you’re feeling like your experience as a mama, in whatever capacity you’ve performed, is more like a #momfail rather than a #momwin, rest assured that there is nothing you can do or have done to you that can wreck your life so badly that God can’t still mend you and use you in beautiful ways.
Every mama, I see you.
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Thirty-Three Sounds Good To Me!

Last Friday was my birthday. Yes, it’s taken me 7 days to write this post. don’t blog-shame me. Maybe if I could get my brain and my body to get on the same page I’d be able to sit down and get something accomplished in an efficient way… but so far that hasn’t been a perk of my new kidney. lame.
Last year, thirty-two felt an awful lot like thirty-one. No big.
This year, thirty-three feels completely different. Only 365 days have passed, but it feels more like 365 years have passed. and I’m on a new planet. and in a new body. with a new identity. and all because of a new kidney.
Since my kidney transplant a little over four months ago, I’ve experienced so much change. Emotional change, mental change, spiritual change, and of course, physical change. All that is to be expected, of course, but you can’t ever truly prepare yourself for something like that.
A common misconception about organ transplants (a misconception even I’d subconsciously subscribed to) is that once a person has receive the transplant, things will return to ‘normal’ and they’ll be ‘cured’. Unfortunately, transplantation isn’t a cure for kidney disease; it’s only one of the treatment methods. The alternative is dialysis. I’ve discovered it’s like trading one set of issues for another. And I’m slowly wading through these new ‘issues’ {you can read more about them here}. They’re all generally minor things (hair loss, mood swings, insomnia, hand tremors, weight gain,  skin issues, etc.). Totally manageable and itty-bitty in the grand scheme of things.
One of hardest for me to deal with? The face rounding caused by the Prednisone. Some people refer to this as ‘moon face’ {because your face gets as round as the moon. no joke}.  I knew going in to this process that that would be something I’d struggle with. Let’s call it what it is: straight up vanity.  Rounder isn’t any less beautiful. I know this and I preach this {even though my body shape is more of the twig variety}. I know round is beautiful because I’ve often been jealous of other women who have curves. But I’ve been struggling horribly with this. It’s mostly that my face isn’t my face anymore. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see me. And that is WEIRD! What if my husband doesn’t like this face? He married a slightly different one. So far though, his only comment has been “you look healthy”. meh, I’ll take it.
I hadn’t realized I was subconsciously letting my struggle with my ’round face’ show outwardly until my five year old Charlie and I were taking silly selfies on Snapchat {like you do}. She made an offhand comment that she liked it better “when I smile with my teeth”. She went right back to doing her bunny ear pose, but that comment stuck with me for days! I hadn’t even realized I’d changed the way I smile over the past few months, simply because my face was rounder and I felt self conscious about it. The reality is everything is different and most of this new Ashley is here to stay, so I need to hop on board and ‘make it work’! {insert Tim Gunn voiceover from Project Runway.  You can tack on a ‘frankly I’m concerned’ just for fun…}
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Regardless of my inner strife, my birthday came just like it does every year. I’ve never been big on celebrating birthdays. I’m content to just let them pass; which I guess isn’t the norm because every time I responded truthfully when asked what I was doing for my birthday {which was nothing} people were shocked. Chris was determined to make me celebrate at least a little, though, so we did it my way:
The morning of my birthday I met a friend for coffee, then we popped in to Target to ‘just get diapers for Will’.  Of course I came out with all kinds of things but… happy birthday to me!
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Then Will and I ventured out to the DMV to renew my license. I could have done it online, but I was desperate for a new photo! Last time I took a license photo the ‘no smiling rule’ was in effect here in VA and, you guys, I HAVE to smile in photos. If I don’t smile I look like a Disney movie villain. It ain’t natural. Will spent a lot of time crawling around on the floor, dragging his monkey behind him, and pointing to anything interesting he saw. like beards. dogs. women with beards and dogs. and I allowed it. honestly, the fact that he’s mostly non-verbal is a blessing in those situations. I’d just pretend he was pointing at something else and distract him with a cookie.
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For dinner we went to Rita’s. It was a total parenting win and we had no regrets.
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Then later that evening I was able to meet up with other foster and adoptive mamas to laugh and cry and eat yummy food. It’s a beautiful thing when women support women, mamas support mamas, and we can surround one another with a tribe to call on and fall on when in need. When that happens, mom’s win… but more importantly, families and children win, because they reap the benefits of having strong, healthy foster mamas in their corner.
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The next morning, we had breakfast with my family. Then on Sunday, Chris took me out for lunch {I pretty much just ate chips and guac}. Totally my kind of birthday weekend.
I’ve been so spoiled lately and have so much to be thankful for. I’m working on embracing thirty-three and the new Ashley; one who smiles with her teeth more often.
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Foster Care Truths: There is no 'winning'

Some of you may have read this post before; I’m re-posting it after making a few edits. It’s too important not to share again, especially since I know it may help change the perspective of so many people regarding foster care and because I have even more of an excuse to talk about ‘all things foster care’ during foster care awareness month.
In 2016, after our son Will had been in our home through foster care approximately 18 months, his biological parents signed an entrustment {basically signing over their rights to him, placing him into the state’s care and kicking off the adoption process for him}. It was honestly the most brave, selfless act.
That day, and then following the entrustment’s approval in court later on, we got so many congratulations. They ran the gamut from “He is so lucky to have you” to “Thank God he gets to stay with you”. And all of those are true, I think. We are able to provide a safer environment for him and God has provided us with more resources for helping him grow and succeed with his disabilities. And I was incredibly happy to be one step closer to having Will be a permanent part of our family.
I can’t express to you the relief I felt after those papers were signed. The adoption wouldn’t be finalized for almost 10 more months, so I didn’t have true closure, but any progress after months and years of being in limbo begins to lift that invisible burden of worry and anxiety that comes with constantly living in the ‘unknown’ with one of your children. Though I felt relief and we received so much support and love and encouragement… I could not enjoy the happy congratulatory phrases. I had such conflicting feelings battling inside.
Outwardly, I was happy and celebrating in the fact that Will was moving towards permanency with our family. Inwardly, I was mourning. I was mourning for him because he would be losing the potential for connection with the people who gave him life. I was mourning for his parents because they were losing their son. I think when you aren’t an active part of this process, it is easy to view the foster care situation in terms of “us” (the foster parents) and “them” (the birth parents). But I can’t see it that way. And we shouldn’t.  It is not a case of us winning and them losing. There is no winning.
I’d been battling these conflicting feelings for a while and unsure of exactly how to express them when I came across this post from Humans of Foster Care. It captured my feelings exactly:

“Terminating parental rights is a very serious thing, and even when it is best interest of the child, or requested by the child, it doesn’t make it any easier.
NO ONE WON TODAY. There were NO “winners” in that courtroom today. No one cheered at the outcome. No one was excited. There was no joy. It was a somber day for all involved. Everyone knew what today meant and it weighed heavy on all of us in the room.
Parents walked out without a child.
A child, no matter the age, walked out without a parent.
There were no winners today.
Today was tragic. Today was hard. I am sad in my heart tonight for all parties because I am human.”
– from Humans Of Foster Care facebook page

There is joy in the process of foster care and adoption. There is joy in our own personal story of foster care and adoption. There is happiness and relief and hope for Will’s future. But God calls us to also share in the sorrowful burden his birth parents are carrying, and only God can provide true healing and peace for all parties.
Today, I hope you’ll take a minute to re-frame your perspective on parents who lose their rights or choose to give up their children to another family.
Please pray for first families. Pray for siblings who may never know one another. Pray for birth parents who may be feeling shame, embarrassment, anger, or loss. They do not win.
Then take it a step further and include all social workers, attorney’s, and judges involved in these types of situations as they make the most difficult decisions that impact so many lives and futures. They do not win.
Next, pray for foster families . Those who take someone else’s child into their home and love on them through painful times. They do not win.

I want to touch on one more thing, since it relates to foster families and how we interact with biological families.
It is sometimes very easy to fall into that mindset of ‘us’ vs ‘them’, particularly if the agency and courts and attorneys subscribe to that mindset as well.
One of my biggest regrets in all our foster care adventures over the years happened with Will’s biological parents. I had the opportunity to come along side Will’s birth mother and father and show my support for them during an important meeting and I didn’t. Now, don’t get me wrong, we did support them and provide them with as much encouragement and love every opportunity we got. Except for this one time. I was intimidated because we were in a big meeting. There were social workers and attorneys and all sorts of people present. It was my first time experiencing this type of meeting; I didn’t know what to expect and I was unsure of the social guidelines. So I chose to play it safe and fall in line with the general atmosphere of the room, sitting across the table from Will’s mother and father even though my heart was screaming at me to snatch my chair up, drag it over to their side of the table, and plop my heinie in it so I could be WITH them during this big meeting. Instead, I sat across from them; which from my perspective seemed more like ‘against them’ rather than simply across from them. I can’t even imagine what it looked like from their perspective. All I know is that because I made the choice to cast aside all boldness and ignore my heart, I sat in awkward fear, which meant I couldn’t comfort Will’s birth mother when she began crying. I couldn’t let them know that someone was WITH them and FOR them. I may not support their lifestyle or their choices, but I DO absolutely support them as humans, whom God created and loves. I support them as Will’s parents who gave him life and love him.
It was one missed opportunity, and yet I still think about it. I’m grateful for the experience though, because now I know better. When we know better, we do better, and there are so many chances we are given to change our own perspective and the perspective of others regarding foster care and the relationship between biological parents and foster parents. There is no winning in these situations. There is no ‘us’ vs. ‘them’. There is only protecting and loving and supporting all parties involved. Easier said than done for us as humans, but God is able and willing. He will heal and mend. It is who He is and what He does.
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