I am "out....

I feel like we are starting to see a small bit of, well, some type of normal around here!  It's got a lot of kinks to work out, and the system is pretty rickety, but we are getting through the days, and the days add up to weeks, and I realized yesterday late afternoon that we had just passed the three week mark with John Paul.

Three weeks.  I wish I had some cute cliche something to say like -

He fits seamlessly in our family.

But the reality is, he doesn't.  John Paul has really stirred things up and while I don't doubt the Lord's perfect sovereignty in placing him with us, there are moments that make me question the Lord's plan!

For one, I just feel "out-needed".... as in, there is no way I can possibly meet the needs of all the littles the Lord placed in our family.

And I feel "out-smarted".... there are moments that I seriously have NO IDEA WHAT TO DO!  Parenting an adopted child is not the same (at least at this moment, for this family) as parenting one of our biological children.  (Besides, I often don't know what to do with our bio kiddos either!)

And I feel "out-talked".... with our older three we talked lots, and early.  All three loved to communicate and were great little talkers well before they hit two.  Now I've got this little John Paul, and we've got a few communication hurdles - not the least of which is the fact that he has A HOLE IN THE ROOF OF HIS MOUTH and can't make some sounds.   He does say "mama", sometimes meaning me, sometimes meaning "give me that", sometimes meaning "????".  He frequently points and makes an "ah ah ah" noise that I call 'the bark'.  I'm working on teaching him some signs, thinking both of us will be a bit happier with a means of communication that goes past "point and make barking noises"!

And I feel "out-numbered".... loading both the little boys (John Paul and Luke) in the double stroller, or trying to cross the street with the stroller, two on bikes, and one walking alongside (its a small street, no way are we ready for the big leagues!). 

And I feel, well, a lot of things.  Honestly, I miss the days when it was just the big three.  Luke has not endeared himself with the title "easy baby" and keeps me hopping (and dreaming of the day he'll sleep!)

But all the same, there is great comfort (and if I sound like a broken record it's because this is what I preach to myself like a broken record) - God is bigger than all of this.  God is not about me getting glory because I "can handle it".  God is about Himself getting glory because only He can do it.

And before you start thinking I sit on the couch and wipe away tears all the live long day (which surely you don't think I have much time to sit on the couch!) - KNOW that there are times of intense joy.  The five of them are so unique, so intricate, so delightful in their own ways. 

 It's hard.  And good.  Maybe the best kind of good-hard there is.