Hope


I have no less than five posts started that are all completely and totally depressing. To say that the issues we’re having with one child’s anxiety are all-encompassing would be an understatement.


One post wonders if I did this to her. By homeschooling her. By being a Type A personality. By yelling too much or not paying enough attention to her.

One post struggles with my fear and sadness over what has happened to our family.


One post goes through our thoughts about the whole “medicate/don’t medicate” debate.

And then there are others that try to change the subject but all come back to the realities of our life.

But, instead, I’ll hit publish on this one.

Today, I have hope. I am allowing myself to see some light at the end of the tunnel, however dim it may be and no matter how often I may lose sight of it. We will get through this.

Even if I have to repeat this a million times, it will be my mantra: We will get through this. And we will be better, stronger, happier for it.

Summing it up


This isn’t our summer. We knew if before it even started.


Sure, we had a busy, fun-filled week with our visitor, and have plans—many plans—-coming up that whisper of escape and sun and splashing and laughter.

But, when one child is suffering, we are all suffering. Even if we smile and laugh and splash.

We now have a diagnosis after an exhausting, tear-filled Wednesday: social anxiety, with a side dish of separation anxiety. Not terribly uncommon among adolescents, though not so extreme for most.

The bad news is it won’t go away on its own.

The good news is we have a plan to move forward that includes lots of outside support from people not so emotionally attached as we are. In other words, people who can deal with this without crying (yeah, hi, I’m a crier).

I just know I’d give just about anything to have my smiling girl back.

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Summer is calling.

Like a breath of fresh air

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A bus pulled up this afternoon around 4, carrying our child.


Finally, after last year’s disappointment, we got a child.

There was a crowd of us waiting, with handmade signs, to cheer the bus into the parking lot. A smaller crowd than normal since there were only 15 kids on this bus, not the usual 50 or more.

I wondered if there were 35 kids who could not be placed because there weren’t enough host families.

But, we have our girl.

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Her name is blurred out but she is very real, almost nine, and fitting in well.

And for the next week, our Fresh Air girl will be part of our family. I’m sure the experience will be as special for us as it is for her.

Welcome A! We’re so glad you are here.