It's a good thing I have my kids to keep me sane.

I have been stressed lately. I shouldn't even be awake right now. But I am trying to get stuff done.

But the stress is new for me. I don't get stressed much. And definitely not for long periods of time. And definitely not about going to Canada.

Guess there is a first time for everything.

But today I laughed a lot. Thanks to my kids. Sadly, along with the stress increase, comes a decrease in memory. But I remember telling one kid I was glad he was in my life. So it must have been good, whatever he said. Then again, I was about to cut him a brownie so he was probably sucking up so he got a bigger piece. Whatever. It worked.

I had to go to a meeting at one of the schools today. We didn't know what it was about so I took Angel (14 year old) with me. I didn't want to miss anything important. It turned out to be something about the parents coming to take their turns to make the snack. People weren't showing up, etc. So they said we would each get a paper with the name of 2 other people on it. Then I stood around for at least 1/2 hour while I tried to figure out what was going on.

Turns out, we had to find "friends" to sign up with us. 2 of them to be exact. Seriously? So here is the big white girl (I am a good head or more taller than anyone else in that room of about 100 women) standing there trying to figure out what was going on. And I sat on a bench next to a kid and he started wailing when he saw my white face. I even have a tan right now folks! I told the ladies writing down the names that I wanted a morning. They asked the group if anyone wanted to partner with me. Silence. It was worse than getting picked last for a team at gym.

I made an announcement. I didn't know how to make atole (the drink) and I wouldn't be the one coming. Someone else would. I thought maybe they didn't want to get stuck with someone who didn't know what they were doing. Silence.

So then they asked who else was ready to sign up. Then I heard a lady (who was only 3 feet in front of me and had heard me speak Spanish) say to another lady, "I don't want to be with the gringa". Nice. (a gringa is a white American) I looked at her and waited for the punch line. There wasn't one. She was serious.

I eventually found 2 other misfits who hadn't already made it obvious they were alone (one being a girl that looked about 12 years old) and signed up.

On the way home I pulled out a Snickers that I have had in my purse for a long time. I shared it with Angel to get over my rejection. He ate most of it very happily. He then informs me that he loves to eat chocolate but doesn't like the taste it leaves in his mouth. What did he want? A pepsi? Of course! But I didn't think he could finish it before we got home. He assured me he could.

So we stop at a store and he bought a 355 ml bottle (it was little and cute) and then informed me he could finish it before we got to the end of the block. Well, I didn't want to lose. He would have won except for the speed bump. I may not have slowed down for it as much as I should have. :) So I had a good laugh watching him chug. Then for the next 2 blocks I watched him try not to burp too loud at all the gas he had just thrown into his stomach!

When I got home, a couple of barbers showed up to cut the kids hair. Then I got to tell them how handsome they all looked.

It was a fantastic afternoon.

P.S. I am the only one allowed to call him Angelito (little angel)

The hard part.

This morning on facebook I saw a link to the blog of a missionary I met at a conference I went to in February. When I shared my vision with her of starting a home for kids with special needs she immediately replied, "can you start now?" She is a physiotherapist and has an outpatient clinic for kids and adults.

She began to tell me the story of a little girl. The story she shared this a.m. on the blog. http://journeyswithjennifer.wordpress.com/2011/03/22/jessicas-story/ She speaks of the little girl who went from a walking, talking little girl to one who can not even sit up on her own. This is a hard transition for any family let alone one who has very limited resources and limited education. In the villages, the belief is that a child who is "different" is either a punishment from God or completely the mothers fault. There is a huge stigma attached to having a child with special needs.

And my heart broke this morning. I know what God has called me to do. And I know His timing is perfect. But why can't I save this one little girl right now. Then I got to thinking. For every child I hear about in a desperate situation, there are hundreds more that I don't know about that are suffering. And hundreds more that I won't be able to save. So how do I choose? I want a home of only about 15 kids.

I have to know that what I am doing is helping those few more than I will ever fully understand, but what about the rest? That is the hard part.