I’ve been contemplating how I’d like to share my story of my crazy, awesome, beautiful, adventurous, hectic, and absolutely fly by the seat of my pants life. First off, I am a mother, wife, friend, cosmetic injector, dermatology physician assistant, pimple popping, adventure seeker, and idea maker. I love my kids. I am a mother who is fiercely loyal, but I also won’t put up with any bull. I like to say it how it is if you need to hear it. I’m trying to raise kids that are a strong, loving, grateful, and kind. The type of kids that have enough self esteem and confidence to stick up for others.
If you would have told me that I would have two African American teenage kids living in my home as my own, I don’t know if I would have believed it. However, that is exactly what blessed our family!
We ended up having three kids four years apart almost to the date: January 10, 1997, February 7, 2001, and February 3rd 2005. Two boys and one girl. After having my daughter, Allison, I thought maybe we would be done with our family. When she turned 3, I started having those feelings like maybe there was one more. After a few more years past, I was feeling like I was too old to start over, but I just had this feeling we weren’t done growing our family.
Then in the spring of 2016 I got a telephone call at my office from my husband, Matt, saying that we needed to talk about something important that evening. When I got home, he told me that Cole, our sophomore son, informed him that the new kid who just moved to Idaho from South Carolina, needed a place to live. His cousins were involved in some illegal activities, and he was on strike 3 and needed a big life change. So, we invited him over to our house for dinner to interview him, by the end of the night we laid out our ground rules and asked him to move in.
I remember when he came walking through the door with his stuff the following day, he just had a Trader Joe’s bag full of his stuff. He had one pair of underwear, mismatched socks, and a few clothes. (I still have that Traders Joe bag in one of my memory boxes under my bed).
I always felt like our family could give more, that we had more than enough love in our home to go around and I always felt like there was something else out there. But I never guessed that I would be raising 2 adopted teenage kids. They came into our lives needing a happy, supportive and healthy environment and I am so happy that we could provide that for them.
It’s been one of the most rewarding, and at times heartbreaking experiences but I have learned so much about myself and life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Don’t get me wrong, this has been one of the hardest adventures my husband and I ever embarked on. It takes a lot of communication between Matt and I on how to raise our kids. We both want the best for all of them and we can see so much potential in all of them. As parents, you want them to be successful in life and I want them to see the joy in the journey.
As I go along this winding road, I will continue to share my story with you. It’s a part of me and I knew I couldn’t be true to myself if I didn’t include my family along with me. So, here we go. Let’s have fun with the journey.
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