Consequences

Yesterday my seven year old son (we'll call him RJ) came home from school.  We did his math homework and read together until it was time to pick up his older sister from school.  My daughter hopped in the van and asked, "Did the school get a hold of you about RJ?"  I perked up...why would the school need to talk to me about RJ?  She continued, "About the Knife he brought to school?"

WHAT?!

Well, I was furious!  I couldn't wait to get home and get some answers from my little imp.  I walked in my door and called for RJ.  He slowly slinked his way into the foyer with a look that said, "OMG!  Please don't kill me!"  I asked him if he had something to tell me and he admitted to what he had done.  I couldn't believe that my sweet little boy who wouldn't hurt a fly had brought a "weapon" (a small pocket knife that was more like a fingernail file) to school.  He's not even allowed to play with it at home.  I huffed and puffed at him and asked him what he was thinking...why would he do something so foolish.  He just looked at me with those big blue eyes and shrugged his shoulders.  I wanted to punish him in the worst possible way I could imagine so I sent him to his room and ordered him to clean it by himself (anyone with children understands the depth of this torture).

I called my husband...my nose snorting and ears steaming.  I was like a bull seeing red.  My husband really let me down.  I wanted him to join me in my fury...to feed my fury.  Instead he shrugged it off like it wasn't a big deal.  Actually, he did feed my fury...it was just directed elsewhere.  How could he not see how serious this was?  Things aren't like they were when we were kids.  Some schools have a zero tolerance for such things and the child is immediately expelled.  I wasn't sure how this school district handled these violations.  I had just ended my call when my delinquent sidled up to me with an envelope for me.  It was a letter that was carbon copied to the superintendent, RJ's teacher, the school counselor, the principal's file and all others who had any connection to my son.  It explained that RJ had brought a pocket knife to school and that he would have in-school suspension the following day.

I have to admit that I felt a sense of satisfaction at the surprise my husband experienced when he saw the letter and realized that our first grader was being suspended.  And yes, I did say, "I told you so!"  He tried to appease me by saying that I should be glad we're not like "so and so" who has to go to court over his high school aged son frequently.  I simply replied that the reason I am concerned and taking this so seriously is because I don't want to be like "so and so" who's always in court with his son.  The dim light bulb in my husband's head brightened as he nodded his head slowly.

Okay...so there are probably quite a few of you who are thinking to yourselves, "Take it easy!  He's just a kid!"  So I'll get to my point here.  I believe in today's culture there is a propensity to excuse our children and protect them from the consequences of their choices.  When I say "children" I am not only speaking of the young children but also the adult children in our culture.  I want to scream when I see or hear of the child who sasses their parents or grows up to live off their parents without contributing anything themselves...or the person who has a child and then dumps them off for their parents to raise.  Why has discipline become such a dirty word in our society?  Isn't this life about making choices and then dealing with the consequences of those choices?  Good consequences from good choices and bad consequences from bad choices?  If we shield our children from these consequences while they are young then how can they function and know how to make good decisions as adults?  The answer...They can't!

So...we return to the case of my son.  Did my son realize that the little pocket knife he held is considered a weapon?  Did he know that it was against school policy to bring a knife to school?  I can answer with certainty that he did not.  Did my son know that he was not allowed to play with a knife?  Did he know he was doing something wrong when he took that knife to school?  I can answer with equal certainty that he did.  Did he deserve to have a consequence?  Of course!  Was suspension too severe?  Maybe.  As I thought about my son's suspension and this violation going on his school record, my heart was softened towards him (I really do have a heart).  I thought about how afraid and nervous he must be feeling about what he would experience in school the next day.  These thoughts led me to think about the consequences of our choices even more.  Consequences start out small...a skinned knee, time-out, a scolding, being grounded, losing privileges...but as we get older our choices become more important and our consequences more severe.  Can we help our children avoid the severest consequences by making sure they experience fully the consequences of those more minor decisions they make in their youth?  Consequences are sometimes a natural result of our actions or they may be a punishment put in place to discourage a certain behavior.  The purpose of consequences is to teach our children how to make good choices. By disciplining children, parents prepare them for adulthood so that they are able to take responsibility for their actions and are prepared to deal with the consequences of their choices whether good or bad.

Like I had said previously, my heart was starting to soften towards my son.  During our family prayer last night I prayed that RJ would be comforted while he endured his suspension the next day.  This morning I wrote a letter to the principal apologizing for my son's action and explaining that RJ is a good boy who made a bad choice.  I also thanked her for giving my son a consequence so he could learn from his mistake.  I took the time to read the letter to RJ and ask him how he was feeling about his suspension.  I held him while tears poured down his face.  I told him to remember that he was a good boy and that his dad and I still loved him.  I also assured him that his teachers and principal knew he was a good boy and that they still loved him even though he had made a mistake.  His tears streamed around the big smile on his face.

This experience made me think about our Heavenly Father.  There are many times in our lives when we may feel smacked down by the consequences of our bad choices.  Does our Heavenly Father feel sorrowful when he sees our suffering?  Did he send His Son so that we may be forgiven and freed from our pain?  Does He hold us in his arms as we weep?  Yes...Yes...Yes!

Returning Home?

We received a letter from CYS stating that Mya will be removed from our home to return to her birth mom.  Mya has been a part of our family for almost two years (since she was 9 months old).  The visits with her mom have increased and she is now going on a few overnights each week.  Her behavior has changed.  She cries all the time and says, "Owe!"  but is not able to tell me where it hurts.  She goes to the corner and just stands there facing it for no apparent reason.  She is no longer the happy little carefree girl that we have known.  It breaks my heart as I see her going through this.  I won't speak as much to whether her returning to her mom will be safe for her or not (I hope it is) but more to the whole process.  From day one, though the goal was for Mya to return to parents, CYS has been trying to get the goal changed to adoption and the parent's rights terminated.  We were eventually chosen as the adoptive family and have been expecting this whole time to adopt Mya.  She is a part of our family...the only family she knows.  Now, after all this time and very suddenly, CYS has decided that they have no concerns with Mya returning to her birth mom.  She will be torn from her family to return to a home that, at best, is very unstable.  My heart is aching for her.  I can barely stand it when she is on her visits and she is crying for me over the phone.  How can anyone feel that this is the best thing for Mya?  I've found that over the past couple of months there has been absolutely no consideration by CYS for Mya's feelings.  The whole focus has been on accommodating the birth mom and rushing Mya back.  Right now I am trying to stay positive and help Mya with this transition the best I can.  I just want her to be okay...

Losing It With Shannon Feist

I seriously feel like throwing in the towel today.  I am trying to get my house unpacked, finish registration for school, take kids to soccer (I may end up coaching Christian's team due to a shortage of volunteers), and traveling back and forth to Pittsburgh every week while also keeping my kids from tearing our house apart.  I wish I had a little of that Bewitched magic and could just wiggle my nose or some of Mary Poppins' finger-snapping abilities.  Everything would jump right into place exactly where it should be and my kids would be singing and smiling as we watched with amazement.  Fairytales....(Sigh).  The kids will start school in one week and I haven't done any shopping, the clothes they have are disorganized and/or packed, and we will be leaving for Pittsburgh the day after tomorrow and won't be back until the evening before school starts.  Am I crazy?!  I think I must be...why else would I create such insanity?  Did I mention that Mya got into Vasoline and smeared it all over herself, our couch, my bed...how do you clean that up?  (Seriously, if you have some suggestions let me know.)  I'm suppose to take Emily and Connor on a tour of their new school today before 3:00.  I really just want to crawl back into bed.  Yes, this is the Feist family in living color...no rose colored glass here.

Fresh Start

If you've been following my blog, then you'll notice that I've changed the name of it.  I wanted it to reflect our whole journey not just the adoption part of it.  It has also been a long time since I've blogged.  It is for good reasons though...

After my dad's passing, my mom was concerned that she would need to sell their home right away.  She wasn't sure if she could afford to stay or be able to maintain the large piece of land on her own.  Rob and I had a strong urging that we needed to move and make a fresh start for our family but were concerned with how we would do it.  Someone made the suggestion that we move in with my mom while we were in transition.  I mentioned it to my mom and she said, "Sure!"  We quickly made plans for our upcoming move.  We reserved a Penske truck, visited the school where our children would be attending the following year and started packing.  Things seemed to be falling into place.  Then, two weeks before we were to move into my mom's, she called me and told me she didn't want us to move in.  She said she didn't think she could handle having the kids there all the time.   (I can understand that reasoning...sometimes I really can't handle it either)  I will admit that I was extremely hurt and frustrated that she had waited so long to tell me.  I did my share of crying and asking, "What do we do now?"  We decided to push on with the move but to go directly to Harrisburg instead of staying with my mom for a year before moving.  We chose the Harrisburg area because Highmark has an office there and Rob would not need to change jobs.  I immediately left for Harrisburg and started looking for a house to rent.  It was exhausting!  I pretty much just eliminated places and determined that we would need to increase the amount of rent we were willing to pay.  I was feeling so defeated and frustrated after that trip.  A day later Rob and I returned to the Harrisburg area...we had to find a place!  We looked at many homes to rent and had settled on a house that was in Camp Hill about 5 minutes from Rob's workplace.  It was small but we would make it work.  We had one last house to look at but it was a 30 minute drive from Highmark and we said that there was no way we would consider it unless it blew us away.  Well, it did!  It was an old stone farmhouse on three acres with a pool.  It was huge...about 3400 sq ft of living space plus another level of attic space.  I left a message for the owner and waited two days before we heard back from him.  I was almost sick.  We left as soon as he called and headed to Carlise with the whole family.  We were met there by Amos, a middle-aged Amish man.  He took us through the house and was surprised when we asked if we could write out a check for the first months rent and deposit right away and stay there that night.  (We had brought sleeping bags and air mattress just in case)  He agreed and we spent our first night in our new home.  The next morning, I was in the shower when Rob came in the bathroom and said there was a huge bat (the kind that has wings and pointy little teeth) in the living room.  He was scared and wouldn't go downstairs again.  I told him I'd take care of it when I was done.  I dressed and went cautiously down the stairs expecting to see a hissing, ferocious beast flying at me.  I rounded the corner to the living room and braced myself for...the tiny sleeping creature hanging from our molding.  Did I mention it was tiny?  I could barely see it.  I didn't want to hurt it and in all honesty felt badly that I had to disturb it's slumber but I got a broom and gently guided it out the door.  I had rescued my man from the frightening beast...despite that and perhaps even because of that experience, I loved the house even more.  Yes, I like character in a house.  Our kids favorite spot is of course the huge attics.

There is so much more to tell but it will have to wait until another day...

Stonehouse built in 1792

Shade tree and swing

Pool

Living Room

Study

Foyer

Door Hardware

Door Hardware

Attic

Christian eating breakfast on window sill in Dining Room