Every day Randomness

Randomness 1:
Every day when we get to the church just around the corner from the house,
Miss M yells "We're Home!"
And I jump.
(I startle easy.)

Randomness 2:
Tonight after Miss M got out of the shower
Miss M started singing at the top of her lungs.
And I mean on the top.

We were running late,
But I hated to interrupt her boisterous version of "Everybody Dance Now."
(Which included the bomp, bomp-bomp, bomp, bomp part.)

Finally when she moved on to a new song
- one with lyrics I was not familiar with -
I yelled from the living room,
"Sunshine, I love you and I love your singing -
But you have to get dressed and get out here and finish your homework."

She replied with "Sorry!"
And the singing stopped.

When she came out a minute later,
She said "sorry"
Again.
And I replied,
"There's nothing to apologize for -
As long as you were using a hairbrush as a microphone while you were singing in there!"

Wide eyes gaped at me
"HOW DID YOU KNOW????"
"Because I did the same thing when I was little...
Just not as loud."

Then she proceeded to demonstrate to me her hairbrush singing techniques.
And...
just to brag.
She's good.
At both the singing
And the dancing.

Randomness 3:
The past three mornings in a row we've had a "struggle" about wearing her sweatshirt to school.
She sleeps all night without a single blanket on
And then is suddenly she's cold when she gets dressed for the day.
And the complaining starts.
Then when she leaves the house, she wants to put on a sweatshirt.
It's Arizona!
I'm not sending her to school with a sweatshirt we'll never see again.
It's a flipping 115 + degrees around here this week.
Sigh.

Randomness 4:
Miss M tells me she doesn't like potatoes.
But...
She told me she does like...
Mashed Potatoes
The ones with the skin that you cut in half and then eat
   (aka Baked Potatoes)
French Fries
Hash Brown Patties
Cubed Hash Browns
Shredded Hash Browns 
So...
Now I'm curious as to what potatoes she doesn't like.

Randomness 5:
Miss M calls me Mommy or Mom.
I only refer to myself as "Mommy" when I write her a note and sign it "Mommy Maryann"
I enjoyed being "a mom" and "a mom figure" to Miss M, but I don't consider myself to be "her mom."
Not in any way, shape, or form.
That title is for Miss M's mom.
However,
I do call her my daughter.
The term "foster" daughter just doesn't feel right.
I do think of myself as her parent.
I've never thought of the meaning of those words
the power of those words
the strength of those words
the responsibility of those words
the love of those words
Like I have since July 31st.

Randomness 6:
When I was a kid there was a railroad bridge
(aka overpass)
We called the "Wheezy-Wheezy-Wee Bridge"
Because when you went over it at a great speed
(No doubt faster than what the speed limit actually was)
Your stomach would fly up and then down.
It was like a mini roller coaster ride!
    (All of my friends' families had different names for it in Bay City.
         The Whoop-de-do Bridge.
         The Flip-Flop Bridge.
         The Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Bridge.
         The Sunny-Side Up Bridge
     Are a few that I remember.)
We used to BEG to go over it.
It was always out of the way,
But sometimes my dad, or mom, pacified us
Or surprised us.

When I turned 16
(and was allowed to drive myself across town,
alone
for the first time)
I immediately headed to the Wheezy-Wheezy-Wee Bridge.

Now...on to how that randomness ties into my new foster-mother randomness accounts...

There is a railroad track on the road I take to and from school
And every day I've taken it since I've bought my house,
I've had found memories of my childhood when I can get going fast enough
And make my stomach flip a bit.
(It can't EVER top the Wheezy-Wheezy-Wee Bridge
But - it's as close as I'll ever get again, probably.)

Now Miss M begs every day to go over it.
If we pull up to the house without going over it
Disappointment ensues.
If she's busy and doesn't see it coming
Enthusiasm and squeals ensue.
If she sees it coming but sees that I can't get going fast enough
(too much traffic...or the cop...)
She groans and complains.

And now I find myself getting disappointed if I can't go home by way of the
Wheezy-Wheezy-Wee Bump
with my daughter.

Praise Reports:
During Roses and Thorns tonight,
One of Miss M's roses was that she had worked on her attitude today and had done better.
I asked her what she meant.
"Didn't you notice?"
"Well, yes I did - but I wanted you to give me a specific example or two when you really thought it through."
And she did.
And she was right.
And I noticed.
And I was proud.

Prayer Request:
We still don't have Miss M's visit with her mom and siblings arranged for Saturday yet and I really want her to have this.  She needs it and I need it.