kicking at the stars

Building memories that last is one of my favorite pass times.  Probably because my parents did such a good job building memories with me that I want to continue the tradition of a wonderful childhood for my own little ones. 

This however extends past my immediate offspring and into the world of my foster children too.  Years back, shortly after the miscarriage of my first, we had become foster parents to two beautiful little girls and I remember a friend speaking to me out of ignorance, stating that I could never love them as I would love children of my own womb.  I tell you, fours years later, she was wrong.  These are MY girls, and they, after 3 years of being reunited with their own mother, still call us mom and dad.  The only difference is I don't get immediate access and say over their lives.  When they hurt, I ache.  When life treats them unfair, my emotions are unexplainable.   I would kidnap them forever if I could.  I know their life would have been easier if they had been allowed to stay with us, but that is not the hand of cards they were dealt.  And so, I do what I can to establish lasting memories, tradition and disciplines in their life when the opportunity presents itself. 

Some such memories are our annual Christmas get together where we exchange presents, make popcorn balls and sugar cookies.  Or our summer backyard camp out where Brandon pitches the tent for them and we roast hot dogs and make s'mores over the fire pit.  Last night was our camp out.  I had nine kids over, my three, our two girls, their two sisters, Brandon's adopted sister and one of M's friends.  8 girls, and Zechi completely outnumbered. 

The day began early when I picked them up from their home at 10am, after helping them clean their house so that their mom would let me leave.  We came over and the girls launched into a massive arts and crafts mode.  Painting a doll house and each other.

Later that afternoon we roasted the hot dogs for dinner and marshmallows for s'mores. 

Then put the little ones in the tub cleaning them up for bedtime while Brandon pitched two tents, a smaller ones in Hannah's room for the little ones to sleep in, and the big one outside for the older kids.  After reading three stories (one for each of the little ones) we said our prayers and tucked the little ones into bed.  I checked on them 10 mins later and they were sound asleep with not-so little Tiny (Hannah's puppy) snuggled up, somehow touching all three of them. He's such a good little watch dog. 

I returned outside with Brandon and the older girls, and we sang old campfire songs and told "scary" stories.  When it got to my turn to tell a story I recanted my favorite from way back when I was a girl scout, giving them a good jump at the end.  Mariah, being the oldest, of course challenged me to tell them a real  scary story, I thought about it....and decided that I would tell them a good one-one that really happened to me, one that ended with the power of Jesus Christ and his holy spirit interceding on my behalf.  It was kind of a nice way to end, giving them a scare, but also giving them the hope that comes with knowing our saviour. 

While we were telling the stories, the girls saw a shooting star, and Desiree recounted the time that they lived with me and I had woke them up and dragged their butts into the car at midnight driving them an hour away so they could watch the meteor shower. We laughed as we remembered how I still made them go t school the next day even though we hadn't gotten home until after 3am. After seeing three more shootings stars, the girls were convinced that we were witnessing another meteor shower, I told them it could be, it was about the same time as the last time we went to view it.  Brandon went inside to look it up, and sure enough, it was a scheduled shower tonight. 

Somehow the girls begged and pleaded enough for me to conceded in driving them to our spot and watching the shower outside of the city lights.  Of course, being the mom that I am, I made them brush their teeth, shower and get into Jammas before I okay'd the event.  Brandon stayed home with the little ones, and we clambered into the Subaru and left for our midnight adventure.  I drove them out on HWY 88, before finding a safe and decent spot to stretch out our blanket and we all laid down on top of it, having three little girl heads on my stomach for a pillow.  IT was a blast.  Every shooting star we witnessed we would simultaneously throw our pointers into the air singing our oohs and ahhs. With each passing car's headlights we would kick our feet in the air and send our giggles sailing atop the neighboring vineyards.  After about an hour of star gazing and about 40 shooting stars later, I packed up the crew of sleepy heads and began our drive home.  On the way home, Amanda, Mariah's friend, tiredly yawned and said "I think this is the best day of my summer vacation."

And that my friends, is what life is all about.  Giving kids the best day that they can remember for a while.  Something to hold onto, a moment of childhood innocence that will last past adolescence.  As tired as I was when we got home at 2:30 am, and as tired as I was when I woke up at 7:30 am to feed the hungry pits their French toast, this too will be another moment that I will cherish for a lifetime.

BY the way, the dollhouse that the girls made for my daughters turned out so ADORBALE! Take a look:

They hand painted everything, used my hand sewing machine to make the curtains and bedsheets, found all the barbie pieces in Hannah's room and repainted them (because most had been chewed on by Tiny) and even used the leftover linoleum flooring the found in the garage.  They used my fabric and scrapbook paper for wallpaper! These girls are too much!