I was his mommy once.

Real mom. Biological mom. Birth mom.

Foster mom. Resource mom. Adoptive mom.

We put labels on people like me. Over the last eleven years, I have been a mother to eight children, but only three children live in my house with me at the present time. What does it mean to be “mom” temporarily? Or to share the title “mom” with someone else? It’s complicated.

Well-meaning foster care supervisors will often tell foster parents to let a child pick what they want to call you. “Mom” or “dad” can be a loaded term, after all; best to let the child do what feels safe. But while that’s fine for a second grader or a tenth grader, that doesn’t really fit the bill for a child living in your house from 33 hours old until 33 months old, hearing other children call you “mommy” the whole time.

I remember specifically the first time a child who was not destined to be with me forever called out for me by that precious name. “Mommy!” I remember because I burst into tears. I was keenly aware of all she (his first mom) was missing. How heart-wrenching that she didn’t get to witness his initial yell of “mommy” – and how strange that it wasn’t for her.

How was I so lucky to be the object of this child’s love? To be the bearer of his trust?

One of the best quotes I’ve heard related to foster or adoptive parenting comes from Jody Landers, the author of Love What Matters. She writes, “A child from another woman calls me mommy. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege are not lost on me.”

Being a mom is about more than praying for a child, helping with homework, wiping noses, bath time, laundry, meals, and kissing boo-boos. Those are the actions of motherhood, but to be Mommy is about heart. And that first mother’s heart has not failed in any case I’ve seen: not in the cases where a child has been reunited with a first mother, and not in the case where I have become forever mommy. Despite circumstances, despite overwhelming challenges, despite difficulties I cannot imagine—it has been a privilege to share being mommy with these women.

The mother of a special guy who was with us for quite a long time has brought him back to visit us several times. My heart is full to see their thriving family. She has always been his mommy, and I’m just Kelley now. But I was his mommy once, too.

momma songs

Who needs to cry? Even if you've heard these songs before, you must listen to them right now and then share them with every foster or adoptive parent you know. Because, yes. YES. YES.

Kari Kimmel's Where You Belong

You might know this song as the theme to the TV show The Fosters.

The lyrics that will make you cry:

It's not where you come from
It's where you belong
Nothin' I would trade
I wouldn't have it any other way
You're surrounded
By love and you're wanted
So never feel alone
You are home with me
Right where you belong

Phillip Phillips' Home

You might know this song as the summer Olympics theme from London 2012.

The lyrics that will make you cry:

If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you’re not alone
'Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Phil Collins' You'll Be In My Heart

You might know this song from Disney's Tarzan movie.

The lyrics that will make you cry:

Come stop your crying
It will be alright
Just take my hand
And hold it tight
For one so small,
You seem so strong
My arms will hold you,
Keep you safe and warm
I know we're different, but deep inside us
We're not that different at all

daddy isn't a babysitter

There's a weird element of family culture that bugs me. Maybe people don't talk about it, but it's sort of understood in certain circles. There's a weird idea floating around that in two-parent households, Mommy is The Parent, and if/when she's gone, Daddy steps in as The Babysitter.

Mommy does things a certain way. She's human. She knows her limits and her kids, so she's established systems of how things work.  Monday through Friday, the shoes are here, the cup is there, and we know at which stage of the routine we take that last-minute trip to the potty. Things aren't always smooth because of, well, humans, but we get it done by following point A to point B and so forth.

But then, it's Saturday and Daddy's home from work (or, more likely, Sunday and you're trying to be less than ten minutes late to church). The extra hands means everything's different. Kids are screaming, teeth are gnashing. I can't pee with my sneakers on!  I only drink milk in the Darth Vader cup! These are my brother's socks!

I do understand that kids respond to routine and habit, but as mothers -- and as people in general -- we need to be able to tell the difference between what's wrong and what's another way of doing things.  I'm not going to 'correct' my husband for putting a child's shoes on before he goes pee. (Logic: He does not take his shoes off before he pees anywhere else. I hope..) 

Mommy, don't be so ruled by your child that you begin to believe that it's reasonable for him/her to demand that ONLY you open his juice box.  Maybe you put the wings up and maybe Daddy bent the straw, but the message to your child that his/her father is incompetent is damaging.  That undermines not only his entire position as a father, as a leader, and as a man.

How will your kids ever believe that Daddy is the God-ordained head of the household if all they ever see is him deferring to Mommy on everything that matters to them? Do you think your kids tune into your discussions about finances or some topic where you are more readily willing to submit? Here's a hint: they do not. If you want your kids to see Biblical submission in a marriage modeled, they need to see it in a context that is in some way relevant to them. So chill out, Mommy, and don't communicate that Daddy is a sub-standard, fill-in Mommy. Let Daddy be Daddy. He's probably really good at it.