Home is where the ......

In July of 07 two sickly babies came into our lives via a phone call. A phone call that was a kin to someone placing a pizza order. They were sick, really sick. A year later Bryce came to us in Oct of 08 never having lived in a home, we had to gain a medical license to keep him. Six days in I realized I'm not a nurse, he could die, so we lived at Phoenix Children's.... June of 09 our 8 year old joined us, and what entailed was 3-6 years of therapy. All kinds really, sandtray, art, talking, sensory, physical, speech, occupational, feeding. In April of 2012 I sat at my kitchen and heard "we can close their services". After 5 years in the system it was as if someone yelled "you're free". So we ran, to find a beach town, boats, and small town people. A place we wouldn't have to associate our kids with "former foster kids", in a state they were never hurt, with people and doctors who never had to ask them about anything bad in their life. We escaped, with a five week old on a plane, I saw ocean and freedom.

Some might argue a hasty decision and its a valid one. Some might argue a fresh reset, no old haunts, and that's valid as well. As the weeks and months went by we made our businesses grow, made some friends, made some enemies, and laid our own boundaries for our family.

The thing with a mom of five kids, four delivered with diagnoses and medications, we are lions. We may hibernate for some time, but the line in the sand is drawn. Mess with me all day long, mess with my kids and Momma Bear comes out.

I think what I learned on our little adventure is we had nothing to run away from. We had teachers and staff that loved our kids, knew our family, and knew our kids' history. We had communities full of large families, all adopted, "five kids only" was a thing. I have friends with 17. We had a school district that people answered your call on spring break, and questions like "what is easiest for your child's needs" and "you know best, tell us" were said. I never felt on trial.

Had I not moved to Florida I would not have met some amazing women. A wonderful team of doctors willing to look further into my heart condition and save me with a pacemaker. Had I not moved to Florida I wouldn't have realized that home is where you belong. Where your values belong, your kids belong, your weirdness belongs.

After some tough nights I realized my purpose in moving to Florida was to give my kids a better life, not a rougher one. So we had a year at disneyworld, we rented boats, went on cruises, saved my heart, and we were here to serve Martin County. If anyone needed anything we gave it, because that's what we had come from. Helping others, no judgment. A little boy from my sons special Ed class was arrested last week, age 7, for hitting his teacher. It shook my bones, but what was worse? The women and men posting "hooray" and "obviously no consequence at home" under the article. Its painful having a kid with processing disorder, low IQ, and Oppositional Defiant disorder. Their brain is in fight or flight all the time. God forbid any of these facebook adults have kids, god forbid if those kids ever fall off their bike and hurt themselves enough to cause frontal lobe damage, delays.

I befriended the mom, told her I was sorry, and she cried quietly. No one had said that to her. "I'm sorry they took him to jail, I'm sorry he doesn't understand what he did wrong, I'm sorry because I know you try, Ive seen you try". Sometimes when you are in ditches, caves, illness, or despair the only thing god gave us to combat it is empathy. Home for me is wherever my kids thrive, home for me is where empathy is on tap, home for me is no longer here. I never got the memo that a mama bears spirit and love for her son has less or more value based on her zip code, income level, color of skin. I never got the memo to "stay out of it" either. I tend to walk right up to help....because we should. We all should.

To my friends here in FL I will miss you. To the people we met here may you remember we were a family of service, philanthropy, and empathy. No one has ever stepped over my threshold with a shred of judgment in my soul towards them. If all I remember from Sunday school is to love your brother/sisters in this lifetime, then I am good. Home is where empathy abounds. Where me saying "yeah shes totally pulling one over on you teach" is valued, respected, and not judged for being too tough. Home is where we might run into people who took our kids on court visits, maybe an old family member, an old cop. And while that is not a great thing, its just likely, so its our reality. Home is there. Home is not here...........