Honestly

With six kids in the house there's lots of stuff. Stuff that belongs to someone else. Stuff that you shouldn't touch unless it belongs to you. At least that's how we roll, it just seems to simplify life a little.

Last week one of the kids brought to our attention that someone's stuff had been touched, in fact, taken and used. Since it's a given that we don't tolerate lying - which includes stealing (which equals taking something that doesn't belong to you)  - we expected the guilty party to come clean rather quickly.

That being a faulty assumption, we progressed to a family pow-wow around the table where they were subjected to a lecture about how our home needs to be a safe and secure place, that this is the training ground for "real life", and reminders that God has called us to live a life set apart and holy - to follow Jesus' example of a life of integrity. At least that's what I heard and hope came across to the kids in such a way as to compel someone to confess.

That hope was dashed as a trip around the table yielded no information, just a bit of blame-throwing.

It was close to bedtime for the younger set, so we sent everyone to their rooms for the rest of the evening with the charge to think and pray about the situation, and encouragement to answer honestly in the morning.

After lunch on Sunday the pow-wow resumed with the same results: no confession, everyone to their rooms for the day - or until one of them came to confess and apologize.

During the afternoon, two of the kids came to me to ask what would happen if someone took the blame for everyone, if one of them confessed even though he or she were not the guilty party. An interesting proposition that lent itself to a discussion about Jesus' act of love for us in taking on our sin, and a realization that if this choice were made an innocent sibling would be punished.

Since this was not the result for which they were hoping - the kids seemed to think that an innocent person taking the rap should be off the hook and no one would serve a consequence - those two returned to their rooms.

With a quiet house and some time to investigate, I was able to conclusively discern who the guilty party was. After releasing the other five from their bedrooms and thanking them for their patience, I went to the room of the sixth child and explained that we knew the truth. Fully expecting a tearful confession and not getting one, but rather a tearful defense, we moved onto the punishment which was a grounding to the bedroom for two additional days (since the siblings had spent two days in their rooms needlessly) and a week of performing each brother's and sister's daily chores (setting the table, clearning the table...) in return for the trouble that had been caused for them.

As far as making restitution for the item that was used - and here's where it gets kind of funny - it belonged to the child who took it. And this same child was the one that brought the issue to our attention in the first place.

Apparently the thinking went something like this: I know what I did was wrong, so I'll make it seem like someone else did it, and if I'm the one who brings it up and I'm the victim, I won't be suspected.

Honestly... my kids!

What's Your Name

Children come to our home from a wide spectrum of situations: living with one parent or both, a parent's friend, a grandparent, or other relatives; having been exposed to domestic violence, substance abuse, verbal, emotional, physical, or sexual abuse; neglect of the basic needs of food, shelter, and security - both physical and emotional; having experienced homelessness, a lack of consistency in parenting and discipline, large gaps in school attendance, learning disabilities, and behavior disorders. It's all trauma. These children have all suffered a great deal of trauma.

Amazingly, most of these children have an extremely strong loyalty to their parents. It's more amazing in some cases when the perpetrators of severe abuse and neglect are those same parents; and it's a bond which I have learned to honor.

Through the course of our journey, Stan and I have had various titles: Daddy Stan & Mommy Dawn, Uncle Stan & Aunt Dawn, Dad & Mom, Daddy & Mommy or Momma, (just plain) Stan & Dawn, and my least favorite - Mr. Stan and Miss Dawn. Whatever handle a child has needed for us is what we went with. And then there's the whole who-am-I-when-I-show-up-at-your-school question. Older kids have preferred to refer to me as an aunt, cousin, or friend.

In our current situation our little sweetheart (age 5), came from a situation of having a mother who she calls "mom" and a friend who she calls "mommy." Knowing this, we had a little discussion after I registered her for school that went something like this: "When we go visit the school, someone may point to me and ask who I am. What should we tell them? We could say I'm your friend, or your aunt." LS replied quickly, "You're my mom!" So we went with that.

We also had a conversation about what names she would like to use for us at home. She was given the options already mentioned or encouraged to come up with something she liked. With no pressure for a decision, I'm not sure that one was formally made

In the next weeks I would hear LS talking to the other kids and referring to me as "your mommy" and I knew that she was sorting through her thoughts and feelings about who I was and how I fit into her life. During those weeks, when she wanted my attention she would simply get in my space and face to talk to me so no "handle" was needed; a few times I was summoned with "Hey!"

As time goes along and LS hears the other kids calling us "mommy & daddy", as she receives love and care and consistency in our home, as her parents allow time to pass without entering into her life, LS has continued to process and has "slipped" a few times and called us "mommy & daddy" as she has been talking about us.

This past week LS and I met some friends at a park. At one point one of the other children called out to their mother with, "Mommy!" and LS echoed calling me also, "Mommy!" so that we could watch the fun they were having. My heart did a flip.

As we've experienced before, once we become "daddy & mommy" the names are used in excess for a little while. In the past several days I have heard "mommy" from LS for every.little.thing. And I bask in it!

We still talk about her "mom" and "mommy" and the rest of her family. The loyalty with which she regards her family is honored. There is hope that she will be reunified with them and those relationships will continue and grow.

For now I am thrilled to be mommy to my LS, and privileged to receive her love.