Small Boys and Toenail Clippings

Here's what I know to be true.  In 12 hours you feel better.

My small vietnamese boy popped right out of bed this morning, and declared, "Lolly, I'm well!" and I was so relieved, because my stomach was turning inside out.

But 12 hours later.  Perfection.

Hallie and Lacey left for Tulsa tonight to go to Hallie's first official volleyball tournament.  I am heading up there tomorrow morning, after I drop the Lovely's to their very first respite weekend.

I have to tell you.  I wasn't really sure I would ever let them go anywhere else, and then God delivered to me, in form of a friend at church, a fellow Lifer mom (my age) that is gearing up for Foster care.    "Will you respite", I gasped when I heard.....  "Oh YES I can" (said in the best BOB THE  BUILDER tone).

And she has stepped up to the plate for all the serious out of towners, like Kansas City and Ft Smith.  The lovelies are a bit hesitant, as this is the first time they have ever been treated decently in a foster home, but they have faith in me, and I have faith in my fellow Life Mom..... so I am about to have 2 free days.  

I say free, but I mean chained to a stadium seat, biting my nails into bloody nubs, watching Hallie play.  Her team is great, our enthusiasm is high, and we have matching shirts, so this should be good. 

I'm excited about being in Tulsa.  I love Tulsa.  Any Tulsa people see this and want to come over and hang with us, just text me and I'll tell you where I am.  As soon as I figure out where I am.  (Tulsa turns me around and upsidedown)

Took the lovelies for haircuts tonight, as not to frighten their respite provider.  Lovely's had grown to quite an impressive halo, and LB's was pretty long too, so it was time.

While there, LB decided to tell the hair stylist that we were famous, and gave her the spiel on the box of money.  I could tell she was half listening, because LB wound up, is a fast talking, fast moving, 200 mile an hour tornado of all boy.  I saw her tune in on "Box of money", and then she started asking questions.  I let him answer her, and then she said,  "Oh, THAT your foster mom?"  (really, do these people think I have a REALLY strong DNA vietnamese husband somewhere?  this happens a LOT), to which she told them... "You kids lucky, most foster kids don't get haircuts".   LB just stared at her a minute, thought for a millisecond, and replied, "Oh, Lolly don't do dat.  She wants our ears showing".   

Neat. 

Then he proceeded to show her his shoes and new coat, and she was like,  "What?"   Lovely solemnly looked her in the eye, and said,  "Lolly is our homegirl".    Then she hugged me as she was leaving so hard, she squeezed my liver into a cirrhosis state. 

Fast forward to after packing their suitcases (which I got them duffel bags, so they'd have a bag) and carrying them around like weirdos.... I told LB to let me clip his really long girl fingernails and sloth looking toenails.  I love to make him bellylaugh, he can't breathe and it makes me feel like I am a comedian or something, and by the time I worked through 10 fingers and 10 toes, he was gasping. 

"Lolly, no one take care of us like you do".

Oh, my heart.

It's been 8 weeks.  I look at Lovely and can hardly believe it's the same kid.  LB has a little boy face now, and is quick to laugh, and when he gets his glasses, he might even start enjoying reading and tv more. 

Somedays I think I might never get through another day, and then something precious happens, and I know that there is No Where on Earth I would rather be, and nothing I would rather be doing.