S talked to her family a few days ago and I guess they already, ahem... knew about me. And when I say they know about me, ME means all of me, all of those kidlets and everything. She was so nervous that they might be less than supportive.
I guess according to their conversation to say they were supportive may be an understatement actually.
My heart is so happy too. Her parents had questions about her "new family."
You just never know, ya know. I'm a mother, and I can understand. You see one path for your daughter, your son, your child... and then maybe you wake up one day and you realize the kid is no longer a kid and they are not on that path. But rather they are blazing their way through a forest making their own freaking path. And... you are scared for them, unsure, apprehensive. You want things to be easy. You want things to be easier for them than they were for you.
But you see your kid... and you are proud. Because they are not you. They are them. They mirror back to you the love and strength that you provided them.
I could have told S that... a couple weeks ago, when she was biting her nails over this. But, I didn't. I don't know her mother. I don't know her father. I can see what kind of woman S is though. And I can see what kind of mother S has been when she's with the kidlets... and there really wasn't a doubt that THAT didn't come from somewhere... from someone.
Tonight when I picked the kidlets up from their dad's, the Baby and the Boy came running to me. Baby signing, "Mommy-mommy-mommy-" and I scooped her up rather swiftly. I kissed her on the cheek and she said, "Is S home?" I went out to the porch and she saw S in the van and ran out to her.
S is home.