The End.

Tonight, I write this post on my daughter's bed (she has a mattress, I have a vinyl cot--one is more comfortable than the other and so she gets to have a sleepover on the couch with her sister.)   I lie here stifling my vomit, praying my fever will break for more than an hour or two at a time, wishing for energy, and simply not wanting to write this post. I wasn't going to write this post, at least not until awhile after I left, but what's the point in waiting?
I am leaving.
I'm ashamed, I'm disappointed, I hate it. I am letting my children down, I am letting the other volunteers and the organization down.  I am abandoning my beautiful children who have had a history of abandonment, without giving them time to process my leaving, or love to see them through that process. I will not be here to introduce them to Carrie, their new foster mama, and help them rely on her and love her as much and more than me.  My decision is selfish. I am not completing what I started out to do. I am a quitter.  Logically, practically, and pridefully, my mind repeats those things over and over.  Satan whispers them in my ear and tries to make me doubt my decision, become disgusted with myself, and believe that I am a failure.
Because I'm leaving.  Early.
I planned to leave Ongole June 23rd, late at night, and spend a day in Hyderabad with my baby and the love of my life, before flying to Delhi on the 25th. But I can't make it that long, and will instead leave this week.

Since February, things have happened that I haven't written about.  I've had frequent periods of emotional lows, of pure exhaustion, of frustration and helplessness with certain circumstances. It's taken a toll on me mentally and physically, but God and Liban have seen me through, have pushed me and enabled me to persevere when I was way past my breaking point. I had great plans to finish, and finish well.
Since March, my body has been on a roller coaster of health. That's not necessarily abnormal for a foreigner living in a little tiny room without air conditioning in 105-115*F weather. From food poisoning to worms, fevers and vomiting, pinched nerves and Lord knows what you've never seen come from your other end in America, my body has seen it all.
But, after 3 consecutive days of relentless fever and stomach issues, Friday was a total game changer--I'll refrain from specifics and just say that my body hit an all time low.  I went to the hospital Saturday for my first time, and after convincing the gastroenterologist it HAD to be more than food poisoning, the doctor looked at my lab results and said, "Oh....yes, you most definitely, absolutely have an infection."  Gee, thanks, doc. (At least the entire visit was only about $10).
I'm on antibiotics now, and I'm feeling better in some ways, but have had no energy to be with my girls.  If I get a burst, I spend about 10-20 minutes with them and then fight the nauseous feelings off until I can at least get back in my room and latch the door.  It's just not good.

And so I've decided to leave early.  This coming weekend I will kiss my girls goodbye, let the tears flow, and take my bags from Ongole.  A week from today, I'll arrive in Delhi, and will stay in Liban's home in full recovery mode of sleeping about 16 hours a day and only waking up to eat something that will be kind to my stomach. I'll go to the doctor and see if something greater is going on in my system, I'll spend time with friends once I have energy, and I'll wait for Liban to get to India on the 14th.  I'm basically going to spend as much time as needed looking like a sleepy, dreary basset hound until I can get back to normal, without having children and staff relying on me--and me not meeting any of those expectations.

As I mentioned in the beginning, I have the thoughts that tell me how selfish of a decision this is, how much of a failure I am, how weak I am to not be able to finish my time out here as planned.  Wimp, my mind tries to say.  But when I shove aside those thoughts from the logical side of my brain, I have peace about this.  A peace that doesn't make sense, a peace that can only be from God, a peace that lets me know this is His will, this is what I need to do.  I need to take care of myself.  And I'm so blessed to have a man in my life who supports me in this.  Liban has verbalized his support all along, but the look of ultimate relief on his face when  I told him of my decision was confirmation that this is what I need to do.

So, this is the end. My time at SCH ends this week, and it's going to break my heart to leave the girls who are so dependent on me.  From Leah, my newbie, who can verbally communicate only with me to my littlest, Chelsea, who crawls in my bed to lie on my stomach every morning at 5.

My final request is that you pray--not for my health--but for my baby girl, Angel.  

I came back from a weekend in Chennai last week to find her sleeping on the marble floor under my cot, waiting for me to come back home.  

She's started waking up in the middle of the night to crawl into my bed at 2 or 3 a.m., just to be near me, and my leaving is going to be hard on her.  

This is my baby girl.   

I fell in love with the little round-faced, bratty, ornery 2 year old in May 2012, and over the past year together, our love for each other has grown so much. 

She's now four and has gotten so tall, she's lost her baby look and has skinny, long little legs and the cutest dark brown bum.  

Her black curls and dark eyes are magnificent, and she really, truly loves her Marla Mummy.  

Pray that she'll not ache too much, pray that she'll bond well with Carrie. 

Pray that she'll join a forever family soon--whether that's Liban and me or someone else. 

Pray that she be loved, that she love in return, and that she will know the love of her Father. 

Pray that she will keep that infectious smile and laugh and use it to bless all those around her--pray that that smile and laugh won't fade in the coming days after I leave.

Sometime within the next week, I will kiss half of my heart farewell. I will tell her I love her, and that she is the most beautiful little girl in the world. I will tell her I'll be back to visit, and hopefully to take her away someday.  That she has the most amazing gifts, that she needs to fall in love with her Daddy, that her Daddy has never abandoned her, and even though I'm going elsewhere, that I will never, ever give up on her.  I will ask with a stream of tears that she not forget me, not forget how much we love one another right now. I will pray over her and look into those deep brown eyes for what could be the last time on this earth, and I will hold her tight against my chest, and at some point, force myself to give her one last kiss and walk away.

I will keep my facebook page public for a little longer, so you can continue praying for me and will be able to check on how I'm doing, but that moment right there is why this will be my last post on this blog, for the time being. It will be an intimate moment that will tear me apart, and from that moment on, I wish for my innermost thoughts to be spoken solely to the love of my life and my family.

Thank you to all of you who have followed my blog throughout the past two years. Thank you for your encouragement, for your prayers, for your gifts and generosity.   I never would have expected I'd have as many readers as I currently do--the blog was initially intended for my mom, sister, and grandparents to keep up with me. But seeing the number of views on my page continuously increase has let me know that there are really more people who care about me and my girls than I ever knew. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all of your support. 
-Love & Goodbye, Marla

Leah

 
My newbie, Leah, is quite the character.

She's spunky and a total tease.  Leah loves to tickle and laugh and be goofy. By her second day in our home, I could take my morning break and hear the other girls laughing and running around like crazy--much, MUCH louder than they used to be.

She's independent and a leader.  She enjoys directing her sisters in play, but also can go on the balcony and play by herself for a solid hour without needing anyone else's interaction. We're working on teaching her she cannot run the house, and that toys are "hamare" (ours), not "tumhare" (hers).

Leah is creative and imaginative and very, very active.  She loves crafts, coloring, Playdoh, and stickers, and doesn't so much like sitting still and watching movies or reading books.  Leah builds walls of towers out of MegaBlocks and puts her dolly in the baby swing so she can swing her to "sleep."

She is starting to understand Telugu, but speaks only Hindi.  I can explain myself to her and she understands when I say I will return in two hours with new shoes or come back from Chennai in two days.  On the other hand, if I'm telling her to put something "upar" (up) on the top of something, she doesn't comprehend my meaning.  I was informed it's my American accent that is the problem... Six a.m. Hindi is also not my strong suit!

Leah is sensory seeking and loves learning, technology, and music.  She bobbed her head and her hands moved the whole time we were in an auto with some Tollywood music playing loudly on the speakers.  Even as I write this, she's staring at the pictures on my screen while listening to Bollywood on my earbuds.  My whole cot is shaking, she's moving so much while sitting "still" :)  Skype has become her favorite thing, and she thinks talking to the computer is great. (Side note, anytime a picture of a human is on my laptop screen, all my kids shout "Hiiiiiiiiiiii!" as they don't quite grasp the concept fully yet.)

She has some behaviors we're working on, too.  Like how we don't hit our blind sisters, and how no one likes someone else's fingers pushing on their eye sockets.  But she's improved drastically in just the week that she has been here, and I see great potential for her while she's living here.

Leah is attaching well, and seems to be quite familiar with how homes/families go.  She hasn't overeaten or eaten too quickly since she arrived, meaning that she's been well-fed for at least awhile.  She thought the overhead shower was the coolest thing ever the first night, and she begged to use the toothbrush the moment she saw it.  Leah knew how to call the workers at the bakery to get help, and seemed familiar with the whole waiter-customer relationship. (A tad too well, actually--we need to work on doing so with respect!)  She kisses me on the cheek, or pinches the little kids' cheeks to kiss them (they usually cry, as we're still working on learning how gently to push).  She's a good big sister and tries to comfort Chelsea when she's in time out and helps Angel swing "really high" in our living room.

Developmentally, Leah's a little behind at ten years old.  She colors mostly in the lines, she imitates well, her language seems a little disarticulated, and she comprehends "taking turns" in playing games. She separates by colors and even does the motions to English kids' songs with us. I have a feeling the delay might be more speech and behavior-related than an actual cognitive delay; given, I'm not exactly an expert on this area, but that's my prediction from what I've seen.

She's very much a typical girl:  loves her new dresses, and thinks her picture should be taken every time the camera is out.  Leah wants her hair done nicely, but then proceeds to make it a tragic wreck five minutes later from playing too hard.  She thought the beach was fabulous, and, just like all my other girls, thinks she needs her share every time I eat a mango.

Leah has definitely disrupted the "peacefulness" of my quiet little Faith Orange home, but she's livened it up in a beautiful way with her spunky and bright spirit.  And, the whole giving directions in Telugu, English, AND Hindi has made my mouth do a thousand tongue twisters.

But, we're so glad you're here, meri chhoti bahin.



Personal prayer request: I have a pinched nerve in my lumbar area, and it huuuuurts.  It also doesn't help that I occasionally have to lift my 12 year old with cerebral palsy, or that all of my littles want to be picked up and held when they're tearful.  Please pray for quick healing!

Six Plus One.

Thanks to our friend who gave us all the stamps and ink!

And now back to my life in India, rather than all about my personal life:

As mentioned before, Grace Purple (my original girls) and I have now moved into Faith Orange, and hence are no longer known by our former name.

We still think our new apartment is AMAZING.  The kids run around on the balcony from from 6-10 a.m. and 5-8 p.m., stopping only for breakfast, dinner, and the toilet.  Well, sometimes the toilet… The apartment has tons of light, the sleeping situation is much more desirable, and the kids actually roam around instead of mostly sitting on the floor of the living room.a  Since most people are thoroughly confused about who is where, here is a little bit about these 6 girls and how this move has affected them.

Chelsea, my littlest at three years old:  She’s become quite attached to her mama again, just like she was when I let her sleep with me during the transition of being littlest instead of the biggest sister. She’s learned to draw circles and horizontal/vertical lines. She’s almost potty-trained.   We are also a bit stubborn on that—but not too much.  She starts playschool in a couple of weeks, so has been working with a tutor all summer to prepare her, and can now say several nursery rhymes and some of her letters. Speech is Chelsea’s main issue as she has a repaired cleft lip and palate, but she’s improved drastically in the past few weeks.  With everything else, she’s running to catch up to her sisters! (And not too far behind, at that!)

Stephanie, age 13: I’ve realized how little attention I gave her before in a home with 20ish kids I was in charge of.  I’d still try to sing “Jesus Loves Me” with her a couple times a day, but now I am able to sit on the balcony with her at night and sing songs for an hour or so.  It’s basically like a 90’s worship CD with really bad vocals, but whatever J  She shares a tutor with the other girls from 10-5, and even though it’s school and not fun, she’s getting individual attention all during that time, which she needs.  Before or after school, I try to do one special activity with her, especially tactile ones like playdoh.  My favorite was yesterday, when I hooked her up with the Talking Tom app on the tablet.  She’s so soft spoken and typically gives one word answers.  She’s heard the other kids use the app before, but yesterday she finally initiated having a conversation with Tom, talking in complete sentences, so that she could hear Tom squeak them back to her in his helium-level voice. It was precious.

Heidi, age 4 ½:  This little chickadee is a new person, and has also become attached to me for the first time since I started working with them in August. Since her adenoid/tonsillectomy and hearing tubes, this kid has been laughing, smiling, babbling, and sleeping soundly daily. That’s not at all what I remember of Heidi from two months ago! She tells me full sentences about what is happening and might be trying to tell me unintelligible stories sometimes. It’s cute, and I’m so proud of her progress! For the last two or three days, she’s started repeating me.  I’d never even ask her to “say sorry” or “please” or “thank you” before because I knew she’d just put her head down, pout, and usually become antisocial for a minute or two. I still can’t exactly understand these new words she is learning, BUT she’s trying, and that’s what counts.  I praise her each and every time, and she just gives me this massive grin.

Paula, age 12:  My typical teenager and I share a room. This means she gets to sleep in and wake up at her leisure (well, for the most part).  The other kids mostly stay out of the room unless I’m feeling like a zombie and am trying to wish for another 2 minutes of sleep.  Having our own room also lets her stay up a little later than her 3 year old sisters, and get more privileges—like reading books or playing the tablet at night while I shower. She loves the ayah that came with us, and as we have cabinets instead of bureaus, she can access way more things in the house than she could previously. I like that my girl can feel a little more independent.  We also have a baby swing in our living room, and she gets to be my helper and get up on her knees to push the little girls in it. She spends a lot of her time out on the balcony, and even though she doesn’t run around it, I know she likes pulling herself up and looking over the edge, feeling the wind in her face.  She hasn’t had that in a long time.

Naomi, age 8?: Naomi just CHANGED with this move, and I have begun to view her as a “big sister” for the first time instead of a little one.  The windows in our cabinets allow her to see all the toys, and she asks for all the fun activities when she wants them. She’s my “TV helper,” helping me turn the switches on, put the DVD/CD in, etc.  But the thing I love the most is how open she’s become. I have only seen her sit to the side of the room when she’s in trouble here, whereas at the other apartment, 50% of the time she was off to the side, or always playing by herself.  Pretty much when we first walked into our new apartment, she lit up and ran around to see the new environment.  Naomi’s started spending close to 80-90% of her time interacting with the other kids or adults.  She loves pointing to her artwork on the wall. And she’s talking like crazy. Before, she’d occasionally have spurts where she’d talk a lot—but they didn’t last long. Here, she’s like a new kid.  Before, I could get her to repeat maybe 2 or 3 sentences after me.  Today, she repeated me word for word for no less than thirty minutes.  We just lied on the bed next to each other, her lips against my ear, telling me each word I said.  It started out simple with things like “I…. love…. You….so …..much,” but she continued even when the words got hard, “I ….am….gorgeous.” She stopped to laugh hysterically at me a few times, but never gave up on what I said.  Naomi also completed her first 4, 5, and 6 piece puzzles today!

Angel, clinging to mama begging to not
have to go back to tutoring class

Angel, age 4: Angel is also becoming more independent, and is finally getting some of the sensory input that she needs.  She could swing for hours in the baby swing if I let her. She runs up and down the balcony nonstop for ten minutes, about five times a day. She really loathes sitting in tutoring and thinks it’s very unfair when I’m sitting on the bed focusing on one of her sisters. BUT she has learned to draw circles and T’s and X’s.  And today, she wrote the letter ‘a’ for the very first time! (Given, she was just copying and following my step by step directions, but STILL! Haha, she has also not had one accident since moving here—WE ARE FULLY POTTY TRAINED!!! WOOT WOOT! I’m also noticing how ornery she is, and how all this space allows her to sneak off and be a little naughty.  She’s officially becoming the queen of time outs facing the corner! J

Being with just these six has also reminded me how important touch is.  We lie together in the mornings, we cuddle in the afternoons, usually two kids are in my arms during nap time, and as many as possible are touching me/in my lap/holding my hand/supporting themselves on my shoulder when we sit out on the balcony at night. It’s beautiful, and it’s important for them to know they are loved. They are really, truly loved. 

...Haha, and just as I was ready to post this, about how peaceful and wonderful life has been here, we get a new girl, about age 10. As of now, she doesn't have an online name, but I'll tell you a bit about her.  She's sensory seeking and I have a sense that the peace I was going to describe might be gone now :) BUT she's sweet and funny and definitely loveable, and we're going to have loads of fun, I can tell!  The tricky part-she only speaks Hindi.  I am the only person in my home who speaks Hindi. One would think that since I'm dating my former Hindi tutor, I'd be really good by now. But, well, my Hindi ain't so good. (Example A: while saree shopping in Delhi, I mixed Telugu in every sentence. Example B: my most popular Hindi sentence used in Delhi this March was "Sorry, Telugu aati hai, Hindi nahi aati kyunki mai Andhra Pradesh mein rehthi hun." Translation: Telugu is coming, Hindi's not coming because I live in AP.)  Sooooo, you can pray for God-given language intervention, aka the gift of tongues? So far, I have been able to successfully verbally communicate about bathing, eating, and sleeping, but at some point disciplining and you know...other things...will have to be communicated, too. 

Naomi was really excited to share her bed with someone her age tonight. I'm hoping the two of them will be able to hit it off and cause some mischief. Preferably after Carrie comes :)  But now, they look pretty darn precious facing each other while sleeping, positioned exactly the same way. Welcome, meri chhoti bahin.

What's in a Name?

A lot.
Because I no longer have to reread everything I write 20 times before posting to make sure his name wasn't accidentally mentioned.  Instead of selecting his name and replacing it with "my guy," I can now freely say that I am madly in love with the handsome Liban George.  And I haven't been able to be very sappy, so sorry if I ooze it for awhile.  Well, actually, it's more of a "sorry that I'm not sorry" kind of apology...

 If this were a fairytale, I'd say we met sometime last March and fell madly in love in the world's most romantic setting--which probably would not be his office, which doubles as a kitchen.  But that didn't happen.  The good news, I mean really good news, is that Liban was a kind enough soul to not make poor-grad-student-me pay for Hindi tutoring.  Partly because that would be super awkward to transition from me paying him each time we met to him covering dinner and cabs.  And partly because we talked more about life and faith and India and rarely spoke in Hindi :)

If this were a fairytale, he wouldn't have been sick in October when we met in Hyderabad.  He would have taken me out like he apparently planned to do, and I would have not had an 11 pm curfew.  I also would not have had to give him the world's most awkward quick hug in front of my Indian drivers when leaving with my bag of children's clothes and Reese's. Check that--if this were a fairytale, there would be no bag of children's clothes and Reese's, or bug-eyed mustached Indian men, and I would have at least arrived in a carriage, not an auto with a driver who didn't really know where he was going.

In a fairytale, the lovestruck individuals instantly know that the other person likes them.  Others of us just remain confused and contemplate with faraway best friends in facebook messages.

In fairytales, girls have fairy godmothers and servants and loving friends who ensure the girl looks stunning every time she sees her prince.  In our world, "pretty" means I only pulled a few baby lice out of my hair that day, sleep is in my eyes because I haven't even rolled out of bed yet, my hair is only curling away from my face in three directions simultaneously, and there is either a tearful/sleeping child on my lap while we have Skype--or there are twelve children/teenagers knocking at the door with "urgent" situations.

If this were a fairytale, I wouldn't be here in Ongole.  I'd have told my boss I loved her and my children, but that I was desperately, madly in love, and I couldn't be away from him any longer.  I'd have changed my flight destination in January from Bangkok to Springfield, would have packed my bags and thrown them in a cab, run past brown security guards to my plane--JUST making the flight.  I'd have landed in Springfield and run through the (one) hallway of the airport in slow-mo to jump into my man's arms and would therefore live happily ever after.  But, this isn't a fairytale.  Long distance relationships are really not fun, having "dates" via Skype with my electricity and internet cutting out after 20 minutes isn't fun, having hard conversations with a webcam that freezes and you can't see the other person's reaction is definitely not fun. But at least that chapter will end soon.

However, as un-fairytale-like as this is, it's pretty darn perfect.

Saying that he is "everything I could have wanted" is ridiculously cliche, but it's strangely so true, so I'm going to gush anyways.
Liban wants to adopt.  Let me repeat that:  he's not "just okay" with the idea of adopting. He WANTS to adopt. I never thought that I would meet someone like that.  We have similar views on and hopes for family.
He also wants to travel--and not in the "oh yeah, I hope to go to California and London and Paris and maybe Rome someday" kind of traveling; he is up for huts and rock-hard beds and villages and backpacking in addition to all those nice exotic beaches and waterfalls.  He wants to actually do something for people in need--not just talk about it or write checks.  He is also up for moving back to India someday.  (In case you don't know many Indians who live in America--that just doesn't happen much!)
Liban enjoys/can actually appreciate art.  He's sarcastic.  He makes me laugh like no one else can, and doesn't care if I'm a complete idiot for ten seconds in the middle of an otherwise serious conversation. He encourages me like no one else ever has, and he is consistently pushing me towards God, even though he's not perfect in that area either. He's willing to give up entire Saturdays to Skype me just because our daily, hour-or-two-long conversations aren't enough.  He has amazing eyes that tell his emotions without using words. And I can see in those eyes that he loves me.  A lot.

Whoops...kids need their mama, so maybe my gushing should stop? 

I'll leave you with this.  It's actually my favorite picture of the two of us. I'm weird, I know, but it's true.   Essentially, I'm just me--I'm just a girl from Missouri who is living in India and trying to pursue God's will.  And he's just a man from India living in Missouri trying to pursue God's will.  And we are not the most normal people you'll meet, but at least we can be weird together.  And our story is a little odd, but it's pretty darn perfect, and I wouldn't change a thing.  Oh, and it's officially public--so for those of you who know very little about Indian culture, know that that means this is pretty darn serious, regardless of what our faces here say :)

Our first actual date--flying from Delhi to Chennai.  

Changes and Reflections

This week last year, I was attending my Master's graduation ceremony at Mizzou, finishing up my last internship, studying for my OT board exam, and online job searching in about twenty different states. I was in the final stages of a relationship that was doomed before it began, I was planning on visiting India for 3 weeks after a nannying stint in Ethiopia, and I was surviving life as a fairly poor grad student who made a whopping total of $400 in 2013.  I felt young but excited and ready to try on the shoes of adulthood.

At my graduation dinner my grandma suggested I stay in India longer, since it was where my heart was. I thought she was nuts.  Who was this woman?  I told my mom she was nuts, too--I had very little spare money and not getting a job and hefty salary seemed stupid.  But, about a week later my heart and mind had changed and I realized God was transforming her as well as speaking through her.  So, I planned to come to India and stay for a year. BUT my parents weren't really expecting me to go back to America to stay, and I wasn't either.  Looking back, absolutely none of us knew what would happen in my life. So here's a nice long summary of reflections on all this--personal changes as well as changes with my girls at the very end:

Bekah (middle). I think  her wedding prediction was
just because she wanted to wear a fancy saree.

Love life:  The relationship that needed to stop was ended before I left America.  Obviously, we had a choice in the matter, but God did everything, I know.  I knew my heart was in a position that I probably wouldn't be able to date for 2-3 (or many more) years, and especially when I began planning to stay in Ongole longer, I KNEW there was no chance of that happening:  I laughed and said that the only way I'd probably live again in America would be if I fell and love and got married.  Then God intervened, and started to show me in September that there was someone who I respected deeply and could be pretty darn compatible with. I laughed again and told my mom that, yeah, if I ever were to date someone while living in Ongole, it would be him, but that obviously wasn't ever going to happen.  Fast forward to January, we began dating, pretty aware that this was the real deal.  Fast forward to now, his family is meeting mine in 3 days, and marriage-y things are in the works.  I love him, I thank God for him, and I am greatly looking forward to spending the rest of my life with him.  I would end this with a comment like "who could have seen this coming?!" but my best friend, Bekah (pictured above), told me I was going to marry him the first time she heard he existed, even though we were entirely platonic friends. I'm never going to live down laughing and saying "no way, Bekah!" :)

Finances:  I left for Africa/India before selling my car, without fundraising, trusting that God would provide.  And He has.  I didn't get my $50+k job I "deserve" as an OT, and yes, having no school debt helps, BUT I firmly believe God has just provided.  My parents bought my car from me as theirs came with tragic novels, and I've been able to use that money for my rent, living expenses, personal travels, and various things for my girls.  Being a wise steward of money is very important to me, and I kept ridiculous track of my spending for the first couple of months.  But then I started to realize that, at this time in my life, I didn't need to: God will provide, and if I continue spending wisely and prayerfully, there is always going to be more than enough.  It's held true. Realistically, with the money I came with and my expenses, I should have not been able to spend much on my girls.  I should be nearly broke by now.  Not "oh, I have a couple thousand left" broke, but really, truly "I have about $100 in my bank account in case anything goes wrong on my way back to America" broke.  But that's not the case.  Given, I haven't gone and bought whole new wardrobes for my children; I haven't taken them out to eat once a week; BUT all of their physical needs are met, most of their physical wants are met, and we do plenty of fun activities with what we have. AND when I go back to Missouri, I'll be able to buy my good, reliable car back from my parents without a rush.

Career:  I am a registered and licensed occupational therapist who has about 3 months of actual, real, OT experience--not exactly where I thought I would be on my career path.  However, by the time I leave, I will have 7 months' experience of parenting children with special needs.  THAT is pretty darn invaluable to have as an OT.  I have insight into the parenting and caregiving world that many of my classmates will not grasp.  This has been a very challenging year and at times has been frustrating because I don't feel like an actual "OT," but I am greatly blessed to have this insight for my future career.  I will have to work at getting back into OT-mode when I return to Springfield, but that's okay, and I look forward to entering the medical world again.

Parenting, in general:  To sum up my time as a parent in a sentence:  I've learned a lot about how God loves me, how God/love always perseveres, and, at times, how annoyed and exasperated God must be with me when I'm stubborn in my ways.  I have gone through the challenges of learning to be available whenever (even though there are times each day--and one day each week--during which I refer the children to their ayahs, because their ayahs are there and can put someone in time out just as well as I can).  I have learned to advocate for my children--for their best interests, for their medical treatments, for their safety and developmental growth.  I have learned how to love a child unconditionally, and I have learned that (especially with so many kids) there are some children that it is really, really hard to bond with, and that that's okay--it happens over time, and it can't be forced.  I've learned a lot of what not to do by doing, and I've learned a lot of what to do by doing. I've learned it is IMPOSSIBLE to shower without someone "urgently" needing their mama, that sitting down to eat a meal in one setting is not a real thing, and that over the next couple of years, I am going to soak up every morning I get to wake up via alarm rather than a toddler jumping on me, yelling in my face, or throwing a book at my pillow. I could probably also do another paragraph about parenting teens, but if you've had teenagers, you understand and don't need details.  For everyone else who will experience parenting teenagers, I'm sorry. And good luck :)

Parenting, fostering:  I was open to the idea of fostering when I agreed to come to SCH for round two.  It wasn't something I was particularly desiring, but I was open to it.  For "real life" though, I never considered fostering. I have always wanted to adopt a lot of children--but I didn't see how I could ever bring a child into my home and possibly have them leave.  I didn't see how my future adopted children could understand that they, too, wouldn't just have to pack up and go away at a moment's notice--or how I could love my foster children like I loved my adopted children.  Things have changed. Fostering is not easy, and it's really hard to be a foster mom to children who have already had a foster mom and have learned to expect/desire her way of doing things.  BUT it is good, and I've seen how even a short season of fostering brings positive changes into kids' lives.  My guy and I are open to the idea of bringing children into our home and loving them regardless of how long they get to stay.  I cannot predict the future, but I think we are expecting to foster long after we've passed the age limits for adoption.

Parenting, adoption: My baby girl, Angel, has her fourth birthday today.  I know the family who is pursuing her in adoption, I know I may not be her forever mummy one day, but I also know I love her with every ounce of my being.  I know that no matter what happens--whether adopted or always living at SCH, whether we ever get to meet again after saying goodbye in June--that she is my baby girl.  I have whispered promises in her ear to come after her if she is still around when we are eligible to adopt, to be there for her no matter where in the world she is, to love her no matter what, to pray for her regardless of when I last see her.  She is mine, and I am committed to being her Marla Mummy, or big sister, or fun aunt, or the person in all her pictures from age 3-4, or whatever I get to be; I am committed to her, as long as I'm here on earth.  And THAT is what I believe adoption is. It is what adoption has become to me after my time here, and I am of the mindset that legal adoption is a formality that allows quite a few more tangible blessings.  If my Angel gets another woman in her life who loves her just as much, it will be a joyful, yet bittersweet day to learn that, but at least she will grow up to know that there are two women in her life that would do anything for her.


And now the family update: 

I don't want to go into specifics, but things were really rough during March and April.  I'm not dwelling on it because it's over, and I praise God for that. Long story short, things have changed quite a bit.  I now have three children living in Hyderabad to improve their English skills and attend music classes; so that takes me from 22 to 19 children.

And two days ago, my Grace Purple girls (Paula, Stephanie, Naomi, Heidi, Angel, and Chelsea) and I moved to Faith Home and are now dubbed "Faith Orange."  It's an AMAZING change. The apartment here feels open, unlike the caged-prison feel of the former home with little natural light and no balcony space.  I share a room with the kids so get a more intimate experience with them, getting those morning wake up calls and yells for tickles when they are supposed to be asleep at night.  We have a nice, big balcony to play on in the afternoons and evenings.  We have too many cabinets to keep our stuff in, instead of 2 bureaus we have to cram things in.  The hooks in our ceiling allow for us to hang the baby swing so my 3 littles are soaking up that fun sensory activity. We have an air conditioner, but even without it, the breeze here is so perfect that it makes the 100+ degree weather bearable.  This is a picture of my girls enjoying their new spacious home!

Because I moved with Grace Purple, because the past couple months took a lot out of me, and because these girls are some that are dearest to my heart, I'm still looking out for my other girls who currently remain at Grace Home, but I am primarily focusing on these 6 at Faith Home.  It's going to be a good way to end my time as Marla Mummy.   All of that is only made possible by the visit of my big girls' former foster mama and a few short term volunteers are coming to focus on those other two apartments.



So, if you have read this novella all the way to this point, you'll see that a lot has changed in my last year, and even the last week. But as my guy reminded me on an almost daily basis the last two months:

"God causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him, who have been called accordingly to His purpose" --Romans 8:28.  Sometimes, it's been hard to see that. But it's all starting to come together and now I see some of why.  On a final note, I write all this not so that you know every little detail about my life, but so that you may know the goodness, the faithfulness, and a bit more about the incredible, illogical ways of God that have transformed my life this past year.  There's a lot more transformation to happen, but it's been pretty darn radical this year. 

Survivor

(Read in Jeff Probst's voice) On the east coast of India...21 girls and an anxious mama are placed in a prison-like four story building for an entire 6 weeks... in the middle of a town with not much to do. Temperatures rise, ranging from 90-115 degrees Fahrenheit. Many will play, many will fight. Will there be more than one, sole, survivor? *Ayioyoyoyiahh...music  

So. I survived day one of summer vacation.

AND it was mostly a success.

I let my big kids know (my room is in their apartment), that they can stay up til 10 pm now, instead of 9:30. And that by doing so, I expect NO ONE to be awake before 6:30 nor knock on my door before 7 a.m., preferably 7:30.  They seemed appalled, but when I got up at 7:15, no one had bathed or dressed, and some were still even sleeping.  I also woke up, NOT sick for the first time in eight days, AND got to eat dosa.  Combined, it's like my own little summer miracle. :)

The past week, knowing that summer was coming meant believing one thing: I had to be prepared.  So, I tried. And made a schedule of which even my mother would be proud.  (Except that it's not color-coded. Yet.)

My kids sometimes struggle in school, and I see this as stemming from 3 main reasons:

• little parental influence to encourage/compel them to strive for success and/or attend school.  (I'm sure many of our kids didn't go to school prior to coming to SCH, and I admit I've been pretty terrible at even knowing what things each kid knows or can do.)
• the schools don't really accommodate education for their disabilities in the best way (be it environment, social relationships, or teaching styles)
• no intrinsic motivation.  After all, if you're 16 and in class 4, something like graduating high school must seem like an impossible feat.

So, the education manager and I talked, and there's a lot of tutoring going on this summer at Grace Home. I love that all of my girls with severe visual deficits have 3:1 student-teacher ratio classes all day.  Even Chelsea and Angel are sharing a tutor with Phoebe to learn their letters and numbers and something other than "Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes!" (That's my input to their education.)

While they're all (mostly) busy, but still getting enough time to hang out and play and be kids in 105 degree weather, I am simultaneously giving typing/computer classes to 2 kiddos, letting another play (mostly educational) games on the tablet, and doing individual tutoring/therapy sessions with a fourth--in 30 minute increments.  When I made the schedule, I had a sense that I could be headed for disaster, but it actually went crazy smoothly today.  (It also helped that each and every one of the 21 buggers could see their time slot for playing games on the tablet, so they weren't crying about it not being their turn!)

I should mention that my gut tells me that the sanity will disappear in time.  It started to this afternoon, but then we made the excellent decision that 3 kids who weren't going to get much tutoring at home definitely needed to go to "summer camp" at school each weekday morning.  This is just a polite way of saying "GET THIS CHILD OUT OF MY HOUSE!" :) or, at least for one of them haha!

I know, with 21 kids, I struggle with giving each one some time where it's just me and them. I also struggle with making sure that I'm having more than enough fun time with the kids--because unfortunately, disciplining and/or strategizing on how to manage the kids/home has been really frequent lately, and my ayahs need much more watching and direction than they should.  So, even though I look at my schedule and just laugh because it is intense and ridiculous, it's really good:  the kids could not be happier than playing math or letter-tracing games on the tablet or learning to use the touchpad on my laptop, so that's not much of a challenge to motivate them to learn :)  And for most of the girls today, I've seen that that little thirty minute segment, where it's just me and them doing something on our own, means a lot.  And that makes me happy because I finally feel like I'm doing something right and giving each kid some of what they need.

All this said, of course there will be lots of beach trips and park visits and daily walks in the evening and nightly rooftop fun--and hopefully some massive bucket that we can call a swimming pool.  So, don't be worrying about them not getting enough fun!

To make today even better, I went on a walk in the crazy heat to work on my suntan (I've gotten a bit pale from being sick inside so much).  Ok, really it was just a walk to go order ice cream for our party tomorrow, and put more rupees on my cell phone, but I worked on my suntan nevertheless. AND I came across the first mango stand I've seen this year.

Be still my heart. So, after a delicious mango shared with Grace Purple for a snack, and another for "dinner," it was an overall pretty good day. Made better by knowing that when this summer break and this time as a crazed mother ends in two months, a particularly special someone will be waiting for me in Delhi, to spend a few days there together before flying home to Missourah.

:D

Did YOU Know Easter is Next Week?

I didn't, until today after my kids' Sunday School.
This is what happens in a world without Easter bunnies and spring breaks and hideous pastel colors flooding Wal-mart.  I gotta say, it's nice being without all the American materialism.

Quite a few changes have been happening in my home since April began:

• I arrived home one evening to find that I had a new teenager with no information about her.  That was a slight surprise.  I won't be giving anymore information about her other than that she's gorgeous and absolutely wonderful, as she's only here temporarily and I would like to protect her privacy.  Anyways, that made me the 22 year old mother of 22 kids.  Exciting stuff.
•  Then there were birthdays.  Lots and lots of birthdays.  So, my kids now range from ages 3-16.  It also gives me a valid reason to scold my ayahs when I see them feeding the newly 3 year old Chelsea and not making her go to the toilet.  SHE'S THREE YEARS OLD, SHE'S NOT A BABY! I yell. And then I take her little chubby right hand and put it in the rice bowl, (she sheds a tear), I bring her hand clutching the rice to her mouth, and she magically decides she can eat the entire contents of the bowl. It's magic, I tell you.

• Friday was exciting.  I turned 23.  That itself wasn't overly exciting as I was busy fulfilling a dream of mine by sending one of my daughters to Hyderabad for adoption things.  She'll live there and work on her English skills with a private tutor before having her second court date and going home with her forever family once and for all!  We had all the schoolkids over for an ice cream party on our roof and then a group prayer time before saying goodbye. 

 Now, one of her sisters was having a pretty hard time saying goodbye, but considering that the water tank was overflowing and trying to flood the roof and the number of the little and/or inattentive children present, no one else seemed to have much chance to think about feelings.  So, that was good, and I was grateful the tears didn't pour out from everywhere. BUT as the mama, it was really hard to watch this daughter say goodbye to each of her sisters as the party finished.  They were being silly and joking and teasing--not really understanding that this could be the last time they will ever see each other. I understood that though, and it broke my heart.  But, her leaving is first and foremost a happy thing, and I'm not complaining that I'm back down to 21 kiddos!

• Most every child in my home has since learned that adoption is actually a real thing, not something imaginary like it probably used to seem.  I know this because EVERY verbal child in my home has asked me, "'Murica? My Amurica going, sister?" each day.  And some, like Jeanette and Phoebe and Jackie, tend to ask about every 5 minutes.  Some kids, like Jackie, are little and adorable and spunky, and they have a pretty good chance of being adopted--locally or internationally. For others, like Hannah and Christina--not so much.  I get the not-so-fun job of explaining that some kids will go to America, some kids will go to Italy (where's that, mummy?), some kids will go to Hyderabad, some kids might go to Delhi, and some kids will stay here in Ongole with Sarahakka.  
• We reached our $1k goal for furnishing our homes!  Our new furniture was delivered Wednesday, and there still is no rice hiding between the cushions! Can you tell that Heidi and Angel like their new nap spot?
  
• 18 of 21 kids have new haircuts.  Some of these were much easier than others. Keep in mind, I'd never cut anyone's hair other than my own until I started on a curly haired kid. Luckily, most of them turned out pretty well.  I did introduce this thing called "layers" to their hair, and they're not necessarily so much of a fan of those. But, it does make them look awfully cuter!
  
  
  
• We went on a walk this afternoon with every single member of my family and 2 ayahs.  I love that Paula gets to be apart of these things now that she has her wheelchair!  AND she got to be like the other big girls and help a little one by holding (and buckling in) Chelsea on her lap.  Let's just say they both thought they were pretty cool stuff!  On this walk, we also got to meet Leo, the new puppy at Truth Home. I wish I had brought my camera...
• Finally, my last and VERY important update:  Angel has learned how to sing, finally.  She turns four next month and I'm really trying to work on basic preschool level things & speech with her and Chelsea.  Angel sang some version of what sounded like "Jesus Loves Me" the other day, and last night we sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" on the way home from getting my parotha & chana daal.  Because obviously, a white girl and the world's cutest 3 year old don't attract enough attention around Ongole and need a little bit  more :)  
  

It's not even April Yet.

Some days it seems the time is going by too fast, and other times, like today, the time seems to never move. 

Being a mom is hard. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do since it is a day-in, day-out job. And suddenly all those “encourage the stay at home mom” blogs seem all too fitting instead of stupid. 

The past two days I was mostly stuck in my room because standing up for more than 30 seconds or two minutes at a time would lead to dizziness and vision that begins to have all those little black dots.  I was usually fine when I was sitting, and would have just played with my girls from a seated position—except that that would mean 3 people climbing on me and probably knocking me over when the dizziness hit.

So, instead I mostly stayed in my room. My internet was deathly slow, but working from noon to eleven p.m. allowed me to still get some things done.  Usually after two days of feeling unwell, I am so excited to get back out of my room, play with my kids, love them, and be loved in return.

Except this time is a little different.  This time, I just feel worn down.

The trip to Hyderabad was only 5 days ago, my trip to Delhi & Chennai were only 2 weeks ago, it shouldn’t be this way.

But it is.

Suddenly, 21 kids really seems like too much.  Suddenly, being woken up every single morning between 5:30 and 6:30 by a child yelling “GOOD MORNING” five inches from my face produces no smile and only immediate groans and grouchiness. Suddenly, having a child loathe me and spend all her time glaring at me or shooting sharp words in Telugu in my direction is eating at me. Suddenly the tattling is crazily annoying. Suddenly my sarcasm is harsher, my patience nearly diminished, and my tolerance for repeated disobedience completely gone. 

Haley, who was the first foster mom for 12 of my girls, is visiting.  She helps, with both disciplining and entertaining:  the kids are getting so much more love and attention, and she’s wonderful both as a friend and as a role model figure to them. But I’m kind of jealous.  I am still the parent, and she gets to be the fun aunt.  And that’s good, and I don’t begrudge her of that because I will LOVE being in that role when it’s my turn to visit Ongole.  But, still, I’m kind of jealous it’s not me.

I love being the mom, I really do. But I forgot how much I miss being the “aunt” figure, like I was from August through the beginning of December with these girls.  I miss having energy and creativity to just pour out on my kids. I miss being able to decide to just not go to Grace Home if I desired to play with the babies or do more therapy or help another mom out in the evenings. I miss having bright inexplicable hope for both the futures of my kids and the organization. I miss being able to spend more time with the kids individually. 

Life got real. It’s not bad, it’s not hopeless, it’s just real, and the honeymoon phase is most definitely over.  I know I still love doing this.  After all, it was only two weeks ago I was sobbing in my guy’s arms, trying to figure out how in the world I will manage moving back to America, back to “first world problems,” back to a house where silence exists, to a job that doesn’t impact people’s lives this much, and most of all, away from my girls. So, I know I love doing this, but sometimes it’s hard to remember.

I’ve used this blog to ask a lot lately, and I’m going to ask again.  Would you please pray for me? For me spiritually, for me as a mom and discipliner, for me as a teacher and mentor, to be filled with passion, energy, and excitement again?  I would like to say this is a one-time prayer need, but it’s not. So, would you please make a note on your computer or phone or fridge and pray this pray for me daily? Please.  

Because

It’s not even April yet.

And lastly, would you please consider helping financially?  My family needs $535 to finish furnishing our apartments—things were more expensive than I was expecting, so this is for the actual furniture, not for all those extra things I had mentioned excess money would be going towards.  The Passion weekend trip cost a total of $342 for my girls and one staff member to go, and is still left unsponsored.  Would you, your small group, or your church consider helping sponsor that time of worship?  

All tax-deductible donations may be given at http://tinyurl.com/MarlasDaughters