One Year.

Today is an incredibly special day for our family.

One year ago today, we welcomed our two amazing sons into our home and into our lives. Before the boys, we had received a few calls for other children. Some of you might remember the baby we thought would be placed with us, before going to a different home at the last minute. There was even a case where I was called about an infant girl, to which we immediately said yes. However, in the 2 minutes I was on the phone with the caseworker discussing this little girl, she was placed elsewhere. So, there were many close calls and some heartbreak along the way. But looking back, we're so happy those other potential placements didn't work out, because if they had, we would not have our sons today.

The first couple days with our new family were incredibly hard. Pirate's behavior in particular led us to question whether we were cut out for fostering. However, we committed to a couple weeks of both he and us trying to work through our emotions and adjust this new environment. And that's exactly what no one else did for Pirate before us. Different agency employees or caseworkers who knew Pirate before he came to us have told us recently that we're miracle workers with him. I realize that they're trying to pay us a compliment, but in a way, it's a little upsetting to me because it makes me feel like they're really selling Pirate short. When he came to us, he was a child that had bounced around countless homes while with his biological family, then rejected by a handful of foster homes once in the system. Each home gave up on him in a matter of days because of his so-called “behavior issues”. I have seen a couple of these previous foster parents at different agency events and when they remark on Pirate's drastic change, I want to shake them and tell them that they were part of the problem. It took some time, but when Pirate knew that no matter how bad he was or how much he screamed at us, that we were sticking by his side and he was going to go to bed in the same room every night, he became a completely different child. All he needed was love and stability. It was implied to us in the early going that (given how many other homes had rejected him) if Pirate didn’t work out with us, he would likely go to some group home with a focus on behavioral issues. And that would have been the worst possible thing for this child. He didn't need that. He didn't need another rejection. He need a family that would love him for all his faults and celebrate in all his triumphs. There have been some frustrating moments along the way, which I'm sure any parent of a five year old boy is familiar with. But we could not be more proud of the boy we have today. His ability to overcome whatever tragedy brought him to us is inspiring. We have more than two decades on him, and we're pretty sure he handles loss and grief in a far more mature way than we ever could. He is an incredible big brother who would do anything to protect his little brother and will go to any length to get a laugh from him. He's funnier than me and, at the tender age of five, is already cooler than I'll ever be. He's so smart, and now that he has the proper supports in place, is learning at an exponential rate in kindergarten. His memory constantly shocks us, as he'll callback to a very minor conversation from months prior and will relate it to a lesson at school. We still laugh about the day Danielle walked into daycare and found Pirate sitting on a stack of mats “reading” a book (that was really just memorized) to a mesmerized crowd of younger children. He loves to play baseball in our yard (although, he mostly likes to bat. I'm not raising a future DH, this is a National League household. I think he projects as a corner outfielder with plus speed and arm). We never dreamed of taking in a child much older than a toddler, but we're so grateful we said “yes” to that call a year ago. While we wish would could have been there for the first 4 plus year of his life (both to experience the growth but also to protect him), we are so excited to experience all the years that follow.

Little Man is one of the greatest babies that has ever existed (no bias, clearly). He is so smart, perhaps too smart for his age. He knows what his is doing and whether it is a good or bad thing to be doing. You can see how he weighs the rewards versus consequences before he makes his choice. At 18 months, he is sprinting like a champion and is very hard to keep up with. He knows many words, such as Mom-mom, Dad-dad, Nana, Pap, dog, more, up, cookie, head and arf arf. He knows the sign language symbols for more, please and thank you (though, he mostly just wants “more” of anything and everything). He folds his hands on cue when it's time for a prayer. And his sense of humor! I don't think I've ever met a kid more committed to a bit. Recently, he sat on Danielle's head while they were laying down. And he sat there and stared at her until she finally looked up and laughed; then, and only then, was he done with that bit. He's a great little helper and will throw his own trash away or clean up his messes (with varying degrees of success). We don't know how Little Man's future will play out, but our prayer everyday is that both of our sons will stay with us forever.

Of course, we would be foolish to think that we've made it through this year without any help. I know I've ended many blog posts with similar platitudes, but all of you will never know how much you've meant to us this year. For those that have had the great pleasure of meeting our sons, I'm sure you've fallen in love with them just as we have. For those that have not met them yet, we look forward to the day when you can. But regardless of your level of direct contact, the love and acceptance you've given to all four of us does not go unrecognized. When we started this journey, we figured there would be some who would dismiss our unusual family. We thought some might view these boys or any foster children as “not really our kids”. If any of you had those types of thoughts, you've thankfully kept them to yourselves. Because, from our perspective, not a single one of you have looked at our sons at some sort of second-rate children. You've accepted them as part of your lives. You've celebrated all of our successes and grieved with us through the sadness. If you've never done more than “like” a Facebook status, it still means the world to us to know that you've taken the time to follow our journey. Certainly, neither of us dreamed that this is how we would start our family. But I couldn't imagine it being any other way at this point. We may never know the feeling a parent has when they celebrate the birth of a biological child or share in their triumphs. But I have a feeling that each new victory and happy moment means just a little more for us, because of what we've had to fight to get here. We have a long way to go before there's any finality with their cases. Our constant prayer is that we will be able to adopt both of our sons. But until then, we will continue to love each day with our ragtag family. It's been a wonderful year of learning and loving, and we look forward to the next year and many more to follow.