What was I thinking?

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So we aren’t even a week in with 5 kids and I am already asking this question. The insane amount of noise, the constant chatter, the endless questions, screaming, fighting, and laughing. The chaos, oh goodness, the chaos. It’s never boring. And now when I go out I find myself counting kids! Just to make sure all 5 are there! That’s ridiculous.

So today for instance the new worker came by the house to see the kids and where they are living. She made it here at 7:50am, yea that’s right. Before 8am. Who is productive and presentable at that time? I cleaned the house the night before. 😉 So in the middle of going over the case and discussing possible future plans. I hear water pouring. Literally pouring from somewhere. Then I hear a kid say, “the toilet is overflowing!” so I assume it’s just a normal overflow and will be plunged and wiped up. After several minutes of trying to continue the discussion with the worker, I still hear water pouring. I watch as Matt walks out with towels, blankets, dirty clothes, and bowls. This isn’t a normal toilet issue. So I casually ask Matt what’s going on. His eyes give me the death look. Another trip to the laundry room another load of towels. So I ask again, “Matt, what’s going on?” He tries to keep his composure as he answers through clenched teeth, “the upstairs toilet is flooding and coming through the ceiling” {WTH!?!?} SERIOUSLY? So I then try to keep my composure and just look at the worker, smile awkwardly and say awesome. Well then of course the worker needs to see the kids and their bedrooms. So off we go. Right into the foyer, where the ceiling is literally breaking off and falling in the floor. The chandelier is hanging down and water is running down into the globes. They are full of water. Again this is 8am. So now we are standing in the foyer with 5 kids, a ceiling falling on the floor, buckets and blankets full of water, and the worker. Anyone who has had to deal with workers coming to your house know the stress. This flooding didn’t help.

Thank God she was understanding and realized we don’t live like this. We don’t normally have the ceiling in the floor. Or  buckets of water in the foyer. You know, we do try to keep the house somewhat livable. So she left,  and I called the water company to see where the main shut off valve is. Oh, it’s on the neighbors farm, behind a black fence. Exactly where we need the main shut off to our house. Perfect.

So I leave to take one child to therapy, enroll 2 in school, go to the grocery and come back home. Matt has successfully stopped the leak, the floor is cleaned up and now there is just a brown stain in the ceiling. That can be fixed. So the question comes back, what was I thinking? And honestly I don’t know. Clearly I wasn’t thinking about how crazy I would feel. How I want to bang my head in the wall or pull my hair out.

And then I think about where these kids would be with out foster care. What would their lives be like? Would they get to eat today? Would they witness domestic violence? Would they witness drug use? Would they be made to stay in one room all day so they don’t witness these things? Would they be scared? Then I hear the prayer from my newest girl, a prayer thanking God for having all of our family gathered around the table for dinner. Prayers that she and her brother have a good life here with us and that their mom is having a good life. The humbling prayer for a good life. A 9 year old thanking God for our family gathered.  We need these kids as much as they need us. That’s what I am thinking.

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