Foster Parenting classes are hard.
Really hard.
The incision from my surgery still hurts. Even though it's healed. Once in awhile just out of the blue I'll have a double me over sharp little pain. Then it's "healed" agian. Foster parenting classes are like that. Every time I go to these classes they take my "healed" wounds from my past and just like my scar stab me with sharp pain.
Self talk: You are "damaged goods" from your past, your body is broken, failed adoptions, you can't increase your family. Stab, Stab, Stab, Stab.
Tonight I'm weary.
I flop into my chair. I don't want to work out. Take a hike P90X. I want to sit here and wallow and cry.
And then I hear my husband, singing my daughter to sleep. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."
And all is well, all is well.
2 years ago
7 comments:
thought of you as I prayed last night. hope that your spirit will find comfort. bless you
Such sorrow. With hope for healing. May you find peace.
When did the description for children that have been harmed become "damaged?" I just don't understand that.
You are right all is well in the lovely bubble of your home. It is no wonder that home is referred to so often as a sanctuary.
Beautiful post.
Beautiful friend.
Beautiful heart.
Kick that self talk in the hiney...
We often point out the bad, I have done it a lot lately over things I really shouldn't. I admire that you are a strong enough person to go through this. That is what I see in your posts, strength. I wish you the best and always find comfort in your posts. I am sorry that this is something you have to go through and I hope that you can find peace soon.
I hope things look up soon. How much longer are the classes?
Good luck with those classes. My sis-in-law did them last year, and it was a lot of hard, hard, hard work. I can't imagine. Hang in there.
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