In the course of our morning routine which normally includes changing diapers, feeding the masses, getting the littles settled in the nursery, and the bigs started on school, we were blessed with a few variations. Don't be fooled by that statement, most mornings we are blessed with plenty of variations, however this morning told the tale of our patched together family perfectly. All three of the babies woke up with dirty diapers that also messed up their pajamas. I just add that to the growing pile of poop laundry in the laundry room. After that I had conversation with my almost 4 year old about which kids came out of my belly and which ones didn't, and can they all STILL be her brothers and sisters please because she really loves them all. "Yes love, they will always be your brothers and sisters even until you are as old as mama!" Finally everyone was settled but then a big kid came downstairs to say that there was a fight going down in the schoolroom. While getting to the bottom of this argument I find underlying feelings of "I just need to be good and play the part so that they will love me" in one of my boys. Every time I see this it hurts like a knife to the heart. We talked, he opened up and seemed better and I sent him back to school. Cries came from the nursery, I go in to find that Lyric has smashed her finger in the toy box and it's bleeding, I fix her up but she just wants to be held and cried again while I ran to comfort Lottie who had just face planted while pulling up on the toy kitchen. Both of these babies are still crying when the phone rings and I answer "Hello?" I can't hear what they are saying. I run to the other side of the house as I say "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you".... I hear "Yes mam, I'm the new social worker that has just been assigned to your case..." Seriously?! Another social worker?! These boys have had NO LESS THAN 8 different workers since they came into care! I answer kindly "Yes, hello!" And then he says what I KNEW he was about to say "Can I come out today?" To which I answer "Sure! But I'm not going to put on a show for you! Haha! If you are going to drop in you will see a lived in house!" He seemed to like my honesty and said he will be out soon. I run back to the other side of the house and scoop up the still crying babies, one in each arm, and hold and kiss them. Another big kid needs help with a math problem, we work through it. I sit down and take a drink of my now cold coffee, but I don't care, I learned to like cold coffee at least three kids ago. I start thinking again about how I can encourage my boy to be him and not who he thinks we want him to be, my heart feels sick in moments like this. Why can't he just be free to be a little boy?! My eyes begin to fill up as I send up a petition to my father, and I hear another kid coming down the stairs.....I quick get my game face on and turn to find another broken little boy, this one eleven years old, one that did not come from my belly, holding a note that says "I love you mom". Okay Lord, I'll press forward! YOUR Grace is sufficient! This life that I have been chosen for will never be easy, but those moments when you have earned the love and trust of His "least of these" will always make it worth it!