Are you ready?

People keep asking me, "Are you ready?" Here are a few answers to that question..

Am I ready for Christmas?
Yes, Yes I am. Dustin and I waited until the last minute, and we managed to get all shopping done within two days. We went to four stores total, and everyone is knocked off the list. We had the privilege to shop for my husband's cousin's children, and we have come to the conclusion that we are still children ourselves. We were getting excited when we'd find a toy that lit up, made noise, or projectile-shot something from across the room. (Bless the parents that children unwrap those gifts Christmas morning) We were even more excited when we found out everything was fifty percent off. I came to conclusions that Black Friday is a scam. In all actually, everything on sale on Black Friday is going to be on sale two days before Christmas also. Silly marketing.

Am I ready for a zombie apocalypse? 
No. I am about capable of running from this computer table to the bathroom and then I am out of breath. Zombies are going to catch me. I've come to realization of that. 

Am I ready for a slow week at work including two off days for the holidays? 
Yes, Yes I am. Praise you baby Jesus!

Am I ready to make Christmas candy with my family?
Yes! I have been drooling over these recipes for almost a week now. We braved the crazy bustle of people last night to pick up the ingredients to these heavenly sent recipes. I am super excited about making candy and spending some much needed family time with my husband and my family.

Am I ready to clean my house before the holidays?
No, which is why I am stalling by writing this post;)

I know all the answers to these questions, but I know people aren't asking me am I ready for Christmas or a zombie outbreak.    

They are asking me if I am ready to be a foster parent.

Let's see. I've completed my GPS course. I've bought and mounted a five pound fire extinguisher. I got the dogs updated on their shots. I got my TB skin test and physical out of the way. I turned in 38499238 pages of paperwork. I took a water safety course. I signed up for a home phone. I baby proofed every inch of the apartment. I successfully stalked up on clothes ranging from newborn to size six in both boys and girls. I've locked up every chemical and "keep out of reach of children". I printed out and hung a fire safety plan. So, have I completed everything? Yes, I've completed everything besides my last in-home visit. (Which, by the way, is next month. We are waiting for the holidays to pass)

So, am I ready to be a foster parent? No. 

I am an observer. I observe people while I am in public. I observe families and how they interact with each other. I observe how parents discipline their children in public. I watch television shows depict how a family works. I read blogs about foster families- the ups and the downs. I read books- fictional and nonfictional- about foster families. I've read parenting books. I listen to friends and families talk about their children- the good and the bad. I am scared to death.

I keep thinking that foster parents have to be perfect, cookie-cutter parents molded from the winners of Mom and Dad of the Year. 

Terrifying.

I am not a parent. I am diving into this parenting thing from the deep end of the pool. The only thing that keeps me going is knowing 1) I am not diving in alone- my husband is right there with me. And, 2) God is our life-savor (literally) therefore I am not afraid of drowning. 

I am bad about only seeing things from the outside. For instance, I keep getting these beautiful Christmas cards in the mail of these beautiful families at my school. There pictures are literally picture-perfect. Everything is nice and neat. There house is perfect. 

I guess I just want confirmation that it's okay to have a sink full of dishes (that might have been sitting there and piling up since Wednesday). I want to know that there are parents out there that have to run a load of laundry again because it's sat so long it soured. I want to know that there are parents out there that's dirty laundry pile resembles that of a Hannah Home box. I want to know that there are parents out there that can't remember what day of the week it is, never the less what they had for breakfast. I want to know that there are parents out there that do feed their children McDonald's for dinner because they are just to plain tired to cook that lasagna or spaghetti. I need to know that there are parents out there that let there kids still watch cartoons on Saturday morning while they eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the couch and before you know it realize its four o'clock in the afternoon and they are still in there pajamas. I want to know that there are parents out there that often times don't know exactly what their doing, they are just relying on love, luck, and God to get them through. 

I need to know that being a foster parent- or parent in general- doesn't require a perfect parenting class. Because, if it does, I missed it.