Sooooo much has happened lately! I don't even know where to begin...it was like, something would happen, and then I would say to myself "oh, I'll write about it tomorrow," but then something else would happen tomorrow and the cycle just went on and on and now I've got a lot to share. So, here we go....
We were supposed to have a super important court date in mid-October. However, the judge's docket was super full and so our case got adjourned for two weeks and was rescheduled for Halloween. I was beyond annoyed, especially because that date had been set since July and it was already pushed out so far because the original date at the end of August was no good due to one of the kids' parents' attorneys being busy that day. Sheesh! Thankfully, we knew beforehand that court wasn't happening and so we didn't have to show up and hear the news.
We waited as patiently as we could, and then the Friday before our new court date, our caseworker came over and had her monthly inspection. She'd brought an intern with her and while he was keeping the kids occupied, she shared some news with us. One of the parents had called and said they wanted to release their rights. (Say what?) Another of the parents also wanted to release their rights and these two parents had appointments to release the morning of court. (Girl, please!) And the third parent had released their rights the day before (SHUT THE FRONT DOOR!!!!) Naturally, I cried like a lunatic and had to be shushed by our caseworker while Chad calmly patted my arm. It was the most amazing thing I had ever heard of. I mean, we were set to go to court and to have this long, drawn-out trial that was going to require a second day that was going to be scheduled who knows when...and now...we were done. Just craziness!!!
Well, as most of you know, it didn't go quite like it was all planned to. The one parent did, indeed, release their rights on that Monday morning. The other parent did not go to their appointment so Chad and I headed to court fully expecting the parent not to show up there either so that court would be just a formality and we would still get the result we desired that day. We showed up at court and sure enough, the parent didn't show. Then we found out why...they were in the hospital. And because they were intending to release, we couldn't have the termination hearing. So, we got our third adjournment. I took it horribly. I was ticked, and all anyone wanted to keep telling me was that it was okay and that nothing had changed and that we still had the kids in our house. But the fact that nothing had changed was the whole problem to me! We went to court that day expecting a change and we got nothing! And the new court date was three weeks away! It was one of the most frustrating days I've ever had.
So, a week or so later, we got a phone call from our caseworker. The parent had been released from the hospital and had gone and signed their papers :) Can you say, 'woot woot?'
The next day, I went to a meeting with Big's dad, our caseworker, and Big's therapist to talk about Big's dad's future involvement in his life. Chad and I agreed a long time ago that Big should still be able to see his dad because the only reason they're not together now is because his dad is a little slow and can't really take care of Big. He loves him and the two have a good bond, and so it's sad to see them having to separate from one another. We've all agreed that it's best for Big to not see his dad until after he is formally adopted by us and so we scheduled Big's final visits. It was a very emotional meeting and I am floored by Big's dad's graciousness to us. He is a much bigger person than I am...he has expressed no anger or jealousy towards us...only kindness and gratitude. That night, we went to a foster parent training class and met our adoption worker. She's really nice and it totally made all of this real :)
Today, Big had his second to last visit with his dad. It was a shorter visit, too, and I felt like I was taking a sheep to slaughter bringing him up there. He was so excited to see his dad and I couldn't warn him and I just felt awful because I knew that once he was there his dad was going to have to tell him that he couldn't see him anymore and he only had one visit left. Big handled it pretty well, he was pretty confused but he did get emotional when he saw his dad cry. Afterwards, I cried like a frickin baby when I was talking to Big in the car and all I could say was that I was sorry and this wasn't his fault. His final visit on Friday is going to be far worse. Chad and I have to go to the final half an hour of the visit so that Big's dad can essentially hand him over to us. How miserable. And, we get to go through it all over again in a couple of weeks with the other parents.
I know it's for the best and I know they'll get over it, but it's hard to sit in the moment and feel like anything other than crying and sleeping. This is the part of foster care I never really thought about and it's really really hard. It's hard to see my kid cry because he can't see his dad anymore. It's hard to see him get his heart broken and it's hard to see his dad get his heart broken too.
To end on a happy note for all of you who like things to get tied up nicely, we got our adoption packet today. It has our letters of intent in it and I'm looking forward to signing those papers tonight. We're hoping to have the adoptions finalized in six months or so, and have no fear, we'll have a humongous party when we're done :) For now, though, we're just looking forward to putting the next few weeks behind us.
More to come...
Monday, November 14, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell the poop of my foster son...
I don't even know where to begin. What. A. Week. I mean, seriously...it's like each day got progressively worse until BLAMMO---it's wackadoo Friday where anything can happen...and anything DID happen! Let's just start at the beginning....
Monday was a pretty normal day. Big went to school and Little had an open house for Head Start which begins in THREE days...woot woot! He's beyond excited and he will show anyone available his shiny new backpack.
Tuesday I had a training conference for foster care all stinkin day. Thankfully, my dad came up and watch Little and Princess so that I could go. I was really nervous about going because I was afraid I'd run into the foster parents who took care of Princess while we were transitioning a kid back to his birth mom and didn't have room for her at our home. I don't think I shared this story with all of you, but these people are not fans of us...mostly me. They really wanted to adopt her, and had gotten some bad information on the boys that led them to believe that she couldn't live with them anymore, and so when it came time to start transitioning her into our home, they were less than thrilled. It got kind of ugly, with a lot of really horrible things being said about me and the boys, but thankfully I work for an agency that knows me and sticks up for me! There's just a lot of hurt feelings there still, so I was really worried. And wouldn't you just stinkin know it, but I was scrambling to find a seat in my first class and was just sliding into a chair as the instructor started talking, and wound up sitting right smack next to them. Awkward!!! It was a pretty tense couple of hours, but I was nice and tried chatting with them. And there was a bonus about two minutes into the class when a friendly face popped out from the other side of the foster mom...at least I got to know that someone in the room liked me! The foster dad wound up being in the rest of my classes that day. Needless to say, we didn't sit by each other after that. Later, I got to take my dad up to the agency with me while I dropped off Big to see his dad and my dad got to meet Big's dad. It was a little weird, but nice that my dad got to get a taste of what life is like for me.
Wednesday I got a call from the agency about half an hour before Big's visit saying that his mom was in the office and that I had to bring Big around the back when I dropped him off. Because of an order from the judge from a few months ago, they're not allowed to have any contact right now. I was thankful for the call, becasue a couple of weeks ago I wound up running into her in the parking lot and having a lovely chat with her while Big stayed in the car, but it was sad at the same time because I have to keep my kid away from his mom in order to protect him. It's abnormal, for sure. And no matter how I try to explain it, it's always going to come out in a way that hurts him and makes him sad.
Thursday was hard. Big had the most physically aggressive outburst I've ever seen from him and he took it out on me, but mostly on Little. It was awful, and scary, and wild...and somehow my keys wound up under the passenger seat and it took me forever to find them! After he'd calmed down a bit and snoozed in the car (We were out in Grand Ledge when all this happened. If you saw me in the parking lot of Meijer, I hope you weren't too embarrassed to admit you knew me.), he told me that he was upset because he hasn't seen his mom in so long and he misses her. Ugh. How do I always forget that they are in the middle of breaking a bond that God created? How do I always look past the fact that, at least for the older two, they have got to be so confused by what is going on right now? The poor kid was just sobbing, too. So, we got home and after dinner they drew some pictures for their mom and that seemed to help them. Big was up half the night though with a stomach ache from all the crying. He's only six and he's seen more and dealt with more than I have in all my twenty-eight years of life. There's something not right about that.
Well, let's move it to today. Friday. Mystery meat Friday. I think I've mentioned to you before that Little has a knack for pooping his pants and hiding it in interesting places? Have I also mentioned to you that there is a hole in the wall of their room from them slamming the door open so much and that I even patched it once but they've popped the patch through the wall so I've vowed not to fix it again until the destruction phase is over? Well, put two and two together, and figure out where Little told Chad he hid the poop today. Yup, that's right, in the wall. I called our caseworker. I was like, "Look...he's coming to stay with you for a few days, okay?" Seriously, IN THE WALL?! So, after my mom and my sister convinced me that I couldn't leave the poop there (I wasn't really going to...I just was hoping that maybe I was overreacting just this once.), we arranged with Chad's brother to patch the hole up on Monday for us and then Chad proceeded to cut into the wall and make the once small hole, huge. I was fixing dinner when I heard him yell for Little and so I assumed that he'd located the scud and was calling the kid in for removal. But, no. Instead, I heard Chad asking where the poop really was. That's right, there was no poop in the wall. There were a million little toys, and the Vick's vapor rub that we've been looking for, but no poop. Little smiled and climbed under his bed and pulled out a wadded up pair of poop filled underwear. I picked him up and sat him on his dresser for a bit while I vacuumed the drywall dust from the carpet. It helped.
Tomorrow we pick up the pack and play from Chad's mom's house for Little to sleep in for a few nights (her idea, and a good one!). Chad's brother is still coming over Monday to fix the unnecessary hole in the wall. I wonder what the rest of the weekend will bring...but for now, ice cream :)
Monday was a pretty normal day. Big went to school and Little had an open house for Head Start which begins in THREE days...woot woot! He's beyond excited and he will show anyone available his shiny new backpack.
Tuesday I had a training conference for foster care all stinkin day. Thankfully, my dad came up and watch Little and Princess so that I could go. I was really nervous about going because I was afraid I'd run into the foster parents who took care of Princess while we were transitioning a kid back to his birth mom and didn't have room for her at our home. I don't think I shared this story with all of you, but these people are not fans of us...mostly me. They really wanted to adopt her, and had gotten some bad information on the boys that led them to believe that she couldn't live with them anymore, and so when it came time to start transitioning her into our home, they were less than thrilled. It got kind of ugly, with a lot of really horrible things being said about me and the boys, but thankfully I work for an agency that knows me and sticks up for me! There's just a lot of hurt feelings there still, so I was really worried. And wouldn't you just stinkin know it, but I was scrambling to find a seat in my first class and was just sliding into a chair as the instructor started talking, and wound up sitting right smack next to them. Awkward!!! It was a pretty tense couple of hours, but I was nice and tried chatting with them. And there was a bonus about two minutes into the class when a friendly face popped out from the other side of the foster mom...at least I got to know that someone in the room liked me! The foster dad wound up being in the rest of my classes that day. Needless to say, we didn't sit by each other after that. Later, I got to take my dad up to the agency with me while I dropped off Big to see his dad and my dad got to meet Big's dad. It was a little weird, but nice that my dad got to get a taste of what life is like for me.
Wednesday I got a call from the agency about half an hour before Big's visit saying that his mom was in the office and that I had to bring Big around the back when I dropped him off. Because of an order from the judge from a few months ago, they're not allowed to have any contact right now. I was thankful for the call, becasue a couple of weeks ago I wound up running into her in the parking lot and having a lovely chat with her while Big stayed in the car, but it was sad at the same time because I have to keep my kid away from his mom in order to protect him. It's abnormal, for sure. And no matter how I try to explain it, it's always going to come out in a way that hurts him and makes him sad.
Thursday was hard. Big had the most physically aggressive outburst I've ever seen from him and he took it out on me, but mostly on Little. It was awful, and scary, and wild...and somehow my keys wound up under the passenger seat and it took me forever to find them! After he'd calmed down a bit and snoozed in the car (We were out in Grand Ledge when all this happened. If you saw me in the parking lot of Meijer, I hope you weren't too embarrassed to admit you knew me.), he told me that he was upset because he hasn't seen his mom in so long and he misses her. Ugh. How do I always forget that they are in the middle of breaking a bond that God created? How do I always look past the fact that, at least for the older two, they have got to be so confused by what is going on right now? The poor kid was just sobbing, too. So, we got home and after dinner they drew some pictures for their mom and that seemed to help them. Big was up half the night though with a stomach ache from all the crying. He's only six and he's seen more and dealt with more than I have in all my twenty-eight years of life. There's something not right about that.
Well, let's move it to today. Friday. Mystery meat Friday. I think I've mentioned to you before that Little has a knack for pooping his pants and hiding it in interesting places? Have I also mentioned to you that there is a hole in the wall of their room from them slamming the door open so much and that I even patched it once but they've popped the patch through the wall so I've vowed not to fix it again until the destruction phase is over? Well, put two and two together, and figure out where Little told Chad he hid the poop today. Yup, that's right, in the wall. I called our caseworker. I was like, "Look...he's coming to stay with you for a few days, okay?" Seriously, IN THE WALL?! So, after my mom and my sister convinced me that I couldn't leave the poop there (I wasn't really going to...I just was hoping that maybe I was overreacting just this once.), we arranged with Chad's brother to patch the hole up on Monday for us and then Chad proceeded to cut into the wall and make the once small hole, huge. I was fixing dinner when I heard him yell for Little and so I assumed that he'd located the scud and was calling the kid in for removal. But, no. Instead, I heard Chad asking where the poop really was. That's right, there was no poop in the wall. There were a million little toys, and the Vick's vapor rub that we've been looking for, but no poop. Little smiled and climbed under his bed and pulled out a wadded up pair of poop filled underwear. I picked him up and sat him on his dresser for a bit while I vacuumed the drywall dust from the carpet. It helped.
Tomorrow we pick up the pack and play from Chad's mom's house for Little to sleep in for a few nights (her idea, and a good one!). Chad's brother is still coming over Monday to fix the unnecessary hole in the wall. I wonder what the rest of the weekend will bring...but for now, ice cream :)
Monday, August 15, 2011
Sanctuary!!!
I'm currently enjoying some much needed coffee out of my fabulous new mug. How did I get this mug? Well, Big decided a couple Saturday mornings ago that I needed flowers (smart boy!) and he would not budge on the issue so he and Chad went to the flower shop and got me an arrangement in a yellow coffee mug with a big smiley face on it. Why this particular arrangement? Because Big knows that I like coffee and he thought the smiley face would make me happy every time I drank from it. In fact, just now, as I was sitting down with my mug to type this, he asked me if I was happy yet from the mug. I'm not sure if he's trying to imply that I'm generally a crab....but I'll take it that he was being sweet :) Although, I wouldn't be all that shocked if he was accusing me of crabiness because I have been quite the grouch lately. We're getting ever closer to an ultimate decision being made in the case, and with it comes insane amounts of stress and craziness that could make even a Stepford wife crack! Want a taste of the crazy life? Here was my week last week:
Monday through Friday I was directing MAX Camp at my Church building. I was thinking we wouldn't have very many kids for some crazy reason, but we ended up with about ninety. Sheesh! Talk about awesome!
Monday I got a phone call from the agency while I was supposed to be registering kids for camp and it was our caseworker calling to say that Big's therapy was canceled for the day and also that his grandma was requesting a visit and both the grandma and his dad thought it would be best if she could have a separate visit. Could we do Thursday at five? Sure! Then came another call from Little's therapist (have I mentioned he's in therapy now? It alternates between our house and a playroom at St. V's.) She was stuck working at a golf outing and couldn't make it. Could she do Thursday at five, I asked? Sure! (I'm no dummy!)
Tuesday I got a call from our caseworker while I was supposed to be registering kids again and this time it was to tell me that the visit for the kids that day was canceled for some really lame and old reason. Whatever.
Wednesday Big got feisty at lunch because his dad told him at his visit on Monday that he would be seeing his grandma this week and he was convinced it was going to be that day and I had to tell him that it was going to be tomorrow. However, it explained the mystery of the "special visit" he kept alluding to. I got a call from my caseworker while I was in the waiting room of the eye doctor telling me that she wasn't sure if grandma knew of the visit the next day and we might need to reschedule. We talked about how Big already knew of the visit and I learned his dad had mentioned this to him before the visit was even approved. Good intentions and all, right?
Thursday I got a call from the caseworker saying that grandma couldn't meet that night. Seriously? She wants to meet during the day on Friday. Nope...I'm running a camp...I'm a little busy. Can we do Friday at three? Sure. Then I had a minor meltdown about how now I had to take Little up there that evening and then Big the next day--anNOYing!!! But then Little's therapist called and said we needed to reschedule (again). Could she do tomorrow at three? She could. YES!!!!
Thursday evening I got a call from the caseworker and from the tone in her voice, I just knew it. The grandma had showed up anyway. Furreal. I had just finished making dinner and Chad was dishing it up and so I offered to run Big up there right then for the visit but grandma was already gone because she could only stay until six. But wait, there's more. Grandma also can't meet at three the next day. She even called someone while at the agency to see if she could make it work, but she couldn't. She could only meet from noon til one. My camp went until 12:30. sigh. Our only other option is to reschedule for next week. But I had already told Big on Wednesday that his visit would be Thursday and then told him that afternoon that it would be Friday and had to survive yet another freak out so there was no way in the world I was making him wait any longer. So we settled for Friday at noon. Which meant I had to leave camp early on the last day. And then I'd have to have Little up there at three still. Which meant I made a horrible crying phone call to my friend Mary who is also the Children's Minister, to explain everything. And then another desperate call to Little's therapist's voicemail to beg for a noon appointment. And then Chad took one look at me and told me to go do whatever I wanted so I made one more phone call to my sister to beg sanctuary at her house for a bit, which I did. Ahh.
This story has a somewhat happy ending though. Friday morning, Little's therapist called and granted the noon appointment. Chad got out of work about ten and came up to camp and picked up the boys and took them to their appointments for me. I got to stay at camp. And when I walked in that morning, there was a lovely arrangment of flowers from my beloved Tiffany in D.C. Phew! Isn't that a wonderful ending? It's like, craziness, craziness, craziness...God's grace....just when you need it.
That week totally affirmed two rules of mine though: 1. Answer the phone whenever the agency calls. They only ever call with something important that I need to hear. This is why they have a special ringer on my phone and everything. It would be so much easier to let their calls go to voicemail when I'm busy, but they're so busy, I could call them right back and they would probably be away from their desk already and then you're just playing phone tag. I hate phone tag.
2. Never tell the kids about a visit until you're already on your way there and you know the person is coming. This pretty much goes for any visit, but especially the 'special' visits. This whole week would have been easier if Big's dad hadn't tried to be helpful and tell him about the grandma visit because I could've just rescheduled it until this week and he would have been none the wiser. Instead, I had to tell him twice that he had to wait another day and he didn't take it very well. This isn't the first time that something like this has happened and so that rule has served me well. I also never tell the kids they're having a visit with their parents until it's been confirmed for the very same reason. We've had a lot of canceled visits lately and there's no point in trying to make the kids happy by telling them they have a visit only to come back in a few hours and tell them you were wrong.
Now it's Monday again and I'm just waiting for the phone to start ringing and all the craziness to start over. I'm super thankful for my husband and my family and friends who let me behave badly towards all of them while I struggle to handle all the stress. They put up with a lot from me and I really appreciate it :) Hopefully, in a couple of months, some things will change and I will have a lot less things to get rearranged. For now though, we'll keep chugging along. The kids are having a hard time with all of this too (can we say Big stabbed Little in the face with his fork after a particularly rancid visit? mhmm) but I'm learning better ways to help them with everything, and camp was a really good distraction for them last week. And can I just say that school starts in three weeks? Big will be in first grade this year and Little just got accepted to Head Start so he will be gone in the mornings. I know it sounds harsh, but I'm really looking forward to the space. Ha, I'll probably be happy for a week and then I'll miss them and want them back home :)
Well, that was my week. Hope you enjoyed the exclusive inside look ;) Now I'm off to wrestle with the crazy monkey children!
Monday through Friday I was directing MAX Camp at my Church building. I was thinking we wouldn't have very many kids for some crazy reason, but we ended up with about ninety. Sheesh! Talk about awesome!
Monday I got a phone call from the agency while I was supposed to be registering kids for camp and it was our caseworker calling to say that Big's therapy was canceled for the day and also that his grandma was requesting a visit and both the grandma and his dad thought it would be best if she could have a separate visit. Could we do Thursday at five? Sure! Then came another call from Little's therapist (have I mentioned he's in therapy now? It alternates between our house and a playroom at St. V's.) She was stuck working at a golf outing and couldn't make it. Could she do Thursday at five, I asked? Sure! (I'm no dummy!)
Tuesday I got a call from our caseworker while I was supposed to be registering kids again and this time it was to tell me that the visit for the kids that day was canceled for some really lame and old reason. Whatever.
Wednesday Big got feisty at lunch because his dad told him at his visit on Monday that he would be seeing his grandma this week and he was convinced it was going to be that day and I had to tell him that it was going to be tomorrow. However, it explained the mystery of the "special visit" he kept alluding to. I got a call from my caseworker while I was in the waiting room of the eye doctor telling me that she wasn't sure if grandma knew of the visit the next day and we might need to reschedule. We talked about how Big already knew of the visit and I learned his dad had mentioned this to him before the visit was even approved. Good intentions and all, right?
Thursday I got a call from the caseworker saying that grandma couldn't meet that night. Seriously? She wants to meet during the day on Friday. Nope...I'm running a camp...I'm a little busy. Can we do Friday at three? Sure. Then I had a minor meltdown about how now I had to take Little up there that evening and then Big the next day--anNOYing!!! But then Little's therapist called and said we needed to reschedule (again). Could she do tomorrow at three? She could. YES!!!!
Thursday evening I got a call from the caseworker and from the tone in her voice, I just knew it. The grandma had showed up anyway. Furreal. I had just finished making dinner and Chad was dishing it up and so I offered to run Big up there right then for the visit but grandma was already gone because she could only stay until six. But wait, there's more. Grandma also can't meet at three the next day. She even called someone while at the agency to see if she could make it work, but she couldn't. She could only meet from noon til one. My camp went until 12:30. sigh. Our only other option is to reschedule for next week. But I had already told Big on Wednesday that his visit would be Thursday and then told him that afternoon that it would be Friday and had to survive yet another freak out so there was no way in the world I was making him wait any longer. So we settled for Friday at noon. Which meant I had to leave camp early on the last day. And then I'd have to have Little up there at three still. Which meant I made a horrible crying phone call to my friend Mary who is also the Children's Minister, to explain everything. And then another desperate call to Little's therapist's voicemail to beg for a noon appointment. And then Chad took one look at me and told me to go do whatever I wanted so I made one more phone call to my sister to beg sanctuary at her house for a bit, which I did. Ahh.
This story has a somewhat happy ending though. Friday morning, Little's therapist called and granted the noon appointment. Chad got out of work about ten and came up to camp and picked up the boys and took them to their appointments for me. I got to stay at camp. And when I walked in that morning, there was a lovely arrangment of flowers from my beloved Tiffany in D.C. Phew! Isn't that a wonderful ending? It's like, craziness, craziness, craziness...God's grace....just when you need it.
That week totally affirmed two rules of mine though: 1. Answer the phone whenever the agency calls. They only ever call with something important that I need to hear. This is why they have a special ringer on my phone and everything. It would be so much easier to let their calls go to voicemail when I'm busy, but they're so busy, I could call them right back and they would probably be away from their desk already and then you're just playing phone tag. I hate phone tag.
2. Never tell the kids about a visit until you're already on your way there and you know the person is coming. This pretty much goes for any visit, but especially the 'special' visits. This whole week would have been easier if Big's dad hadn't tried to be helpful and tell him about the grandma visit because I could've just rescheduled it until this week and he would have been none the wiser. Instead, I had to tell him twice that he had to wait another day and he didn't take it very well. This isn't the first time that something like this has happened and so that rule has served me well. I also never tell the kids they're having a visit with their parents until it's been confirmed for the very same reason. We've had a lot of canceled visits lately and there's no point in trying to make the kids happy by telling them they have a visit only to come back in a few hours and tell them you were wrong.
Now it's Monday again and I'm just waiting for the phone to start ringing and all the craziness to start over. I'm super thankful for my husband and my family and friends who let me behave badly towards all of them while I struggle to handle all the stress. They put up with a lot from me and I really appreciate it :) Hopefully, in a couple of months, some things will change and I will have a lot less things to get rearranged. For now though, we'll keep chugging along. The kids are having a hard time with all of this too (can we say Big stabbed Little in the face with his fork after a particularly rancid visit? mhmm) but I'm learning better ways to help them with everything, and camp was a really good distraction for them last week. And can I just say that school starts in three weeks? Big will be in first grade this year and Little just got accepted to Head Start so he will be gone in the mornings. I know it sounds harsh, but I'm really looking forward to the space. Ha, I'll probably be happy for a week and then I'll miss them and want them back home :)
Well, that was my week. Hope you enjoyed the exclusive inside look ;) Now I'm off to wrestle with the crazy monkey children!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
The time has come!
The day has arrived!!! Remember how I said that they warned us of kids using the bathroom outside our bedroom door?????? It's not quite the same, but Little peed AND pooped on his bedroom carpet today. On separate occasions. First poop, and then pee. And why? First he "didn't know" and then because "he felt like it." Chad thinks that he might have done it because when we're at the pool at his aunt's house, Little gets to pee in the wild by the pine trees and so maybe he's thinking that if he doesn't want to stop playing he can just pull down and go wherever he is, but I'm not convinced. I think it's a choice. He did something similar on Sunday. In fact, here's what happened in my house Sunday night after I got home from Youth Sunday School:
Chad: "Hey. Dustin's stuff is in the washer because I'm pretty sure he pulled down his pants and just peed all over his bed."
Me: "What the heck? Seriously?"
Chad: "I don't know what's going on with that kid. I swear he pooped too because it smelled like it, but I looked in his pull-up and I didn't see anything."
Me: "If it smelled like he pooped, he probably did. I'll check after I use the bathroom."
(This isn't nearly as exciting as I thought it would be...but hold on...it gets better.)
Me: (in the downstairs bathroom) "Chad...who the heck used this bathroom last? They frickin' peed all over the frickin' seat!!!"
Chad: *big ginourmous sigh* "Big"
Me: "Awesome. Because I just sat in it and that's disgusting."
And let me tell you it was alllllllll over the seat. Like he just decided to power wash the seat with his pee to see what it looked like or something. So, I go upstairs and open the door to the boys' room and I am instantly hit with this wall of poop smell. It reminded me of this time I got a cat from a cat rescue place and my sister and I were driving it home and hit a similar wall of smell from the cat pooping in its cage and we were literally idling down the road because we were laughing so hard because it smelled so bad. It was a similar wall of poop smell that I walked into, but somehow, this time, I didn't see it as being so funny. So I turned on the light and there, under Little's bed, is a giant turd. The child had pooped in his pull-up and decided to just reach in and pull out his poop so that he wouldn't have to be bothered with the uncomfortableness of it while he slept. So I grabbed some toilet paper for him to pick it up with, but he just picked it up with is BARE HANDS and put it in the toilet. Barf, gag, grossness!!!! He did the same thing today with the poop on the floor! Why is he doing this?! He told me earlier his belly hurt, and I asked him if he had to go poop and to go and try and instead of going and trying, he just decided to keep playing and poop and let it drop out of his pants as it may. And then tonight while I was at a camp meeting, he peed all over the carpet in his room. This is making me crazy. And their room stinks.
Chad: "Hey. Dustin's stuff is in the washer because I'm pretty sure he pulled down his pants and just peed all over his bed."
Me: "What the heck? Seriously?"
Chad: "I don't know what's going on with that kid. I swear he pooped too because it smelled like it, but I looked in his pull-up and I didn't see anything."
Me: "If it smelled like he pooped, he probably did. I'll check after I use the bathroom."
(This isn't nearly as exciting as I thought it would be...but hold on...it gets better.)
Me: (in the downstairs bathroom) "Chad...who the heck used this bathroom last? They frickin' peed all over the frickin' seat!!!"
Chad: *big ginourmous sigh* "Big"
Me: "Awesome. Because I just sat in it and that's disgusting."
And let me tell you it was alllllllll over the seat. Like he just decided to power wash the seat with his pee to see what it looked like or something. So, I go upstairs and open the door to the boys' room and I am instantly hit with this wall of poop smell. It reminded me of this time I got a cat from a cat rescue place and my sister and I were driving it home and hit a similar wall of smell from the cat pooping in its cage and we were literally idling down the road because we were laughing so hard because it smelled so bad. It was a similar wall of poop smell that I walked into, but somehow, this time, I didn't see it as being so funny. So I turned on the light and there, under Little's bed, is a giant turd. The child had pooped in his pull-up and decided to just reach in and pull out his poop so that he wouldn't have to be bothered with the uncomfortableness of it while he slept. So I grabbed some toilet paper for him to pick it up with, but he just picked it up with is BARE HANDS and put it in the toilet. Barf, gag, grossness!!!! He did the same thing today with the poop on the floor! Why is he doing this?! He told me earlier his belly hurt, and I asked him if he had to go poop and to go and try and instead of going and trying, he just decided to keep playing and poop and let it drop out of his pants as it may. And then tonight while I was at a camp meeting, he peed all over the carpet in his room. This is making me crazy. And their room stinks.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Glub Glub
I fed my kids Chef Boyardee and pudding for lunch. The 'Mother of the Year' award should be arriving at my door any moment...
There are days where I feel like I live in a fish tank. And not just because I write a blog and post it up on facebook for everyone to read ;) There are just a lot of people involved in my life and they all want to know everything that's going on. Caseworkers, therapists (for the kids...although, frankly, I could use one too some days), licensing agents, and a lawyer for the kids...they're all involved and they're all asking questions. How are the kids doing? What are they like before and after visits? When was the last time Chad and I went out? Do we have enough help? Can we schedule a home visit? Can you change the day of this appointment? How did you handle this situation? And then what happened? And then what did you say to that?
Now, they do more than just ask quesions. They listen to me when I am frustrated and they encourage me and thank me like crazy. And I love that they're so interested in my personal life, like making sure Chad and I go out on dates and encouraging me to send the kids off to other people for afternoons and stuff, but it's quite a bit of information to be handing out all the time. A couple of weeks ago, I had to talk to three different people about the fact that Big has been peeing his pants during visits with his dad. He's not nervous or anything, he just doesn't want to stop playing to use the bathroom so he holds it until he can't anymore. And he's also in the habit of telling me he doesn't have to use the bathroom when I ask him to go. **Side note: This is totally "normal" behavior for foster kids. When Chad and I were going through our training, they kept telling us to be prepared for kids who would poop outside our bedroom door. No joke. Crap in my hallway when I wake up--this is what I had to look forward to. This is because the kids feel so out of control and like they have no say in anything going on in their lives, which is true, and so they try and control what they can. Some kids develop eating disorders. And some kids control their bladder and just let it all go when and where they want to. Now, I have never woken up to poop in the hall. However, the other day, Chad got Little up from a nap and discovered that Little had pooped his pants and tried to hide the turd-filled undies under his bed. And this morning, I was literally standing on his poopy pull-up from last night that he had taken off and laid in the middle of his bedroom floor because it was making him uncomfortable. Do those count? Big has peed all over my bathroom a couple of times out of anger...that was interesting...thankfully the bath mats sopped up most of it. Anyway, I'm not surprised Big is refusing to go to the bathroom when I tell him to. With how crazy everything has been lately, he needs to feel in charge of something. He did the same thing when we first got him a year ago, except then he would fly into a huge rage. Never knew the urge to pee could get so interesting, did you?** That was a very long side note. Okay, so I had to tell three people about the peeing in the pants stuff. What a way to spend a Monday afternoon. We all came to the same conclusion that the child needs to stay indoors for awhile and avoid the playground until he can control his bladder. It did not go over well...with Big or with his dad...but what can you do? If you're going to let a kid keep on playing outside for an HOUR after he pees his pants on a semi-public playground where there are a bunch of little kidlets also playing..well, you get what you get.
Seriously, enough of the pee talk. Life around here has gotten pretty feisty again. The stress of not seeing their mom has made the boys get a little wild. Big is starting to have some big ole freakouts that give me flashbacks of all of last summer. I think my head will explode if I have to go through another summer of all that jazz. And Little is starting to follow in his brother's footsteps. The poor lil guy can hardly relax. Last night, he was yelling at Chad that we were keeping him from seeing his mom. He's only three! Sheesh! It's wild...and it's sad. Chad handled it all really well but you could tell it bothered him to hear Little say that. It's hard sometimes to hear the kids say the stuff that they do. You'd like to think that because you know the majortity of it comes from stress and anxiety, the words will just roll off your back and won't bother you. Like you'll be able to just let them vent and not take any of the insults in because you know they're hurting and they just need to get it all out and they don't really mean it all...but that's not the case. It hurts. If a kid tells you enough times to 'shut up' or that they 'don't care' or they call you 'stupid,' it's going to make you feel pretty crappy. *sigh* Ice cream helps though :) At least there's ice cream.
Seriously though, we love our kids. I know I whine and complain about stuff, but we wouldn't trade them in for everything. I wish certain things would be different, but in the end, I'd rather have all this craziness than no kids at all. And there are definitely enough good moments to balance out the bad. Princess is now telling us she loves us and can do so many more things on her own. Little calls everything 'beautiful' now. Yesterday, he came running into the living room to show me the picture he'd just colored, yelling 'it's beautiful...it's beautiful!' It was so cute :) And Big is all about helping these days. He is the most proud child in the world because he can get ice water for all the kids. All he needs is a stool and our fridge and he's set. It is imPRESSive!
That's all I have time to share today...the minions will be getting up soon and then we're off on some fabulous errand running. We know how to really whoop it up, don't we?
There are days where I feel like I live in a fish tank. And not just because I write a blog and post it up on facebook for everyone to read ;) There are just a lot of people involved in my life and they all want to know everything that's going on. Caseworkers, therapists (for the kids...although, frankly, I could use one too some days), licensing agents, and a lawyer for the kids...they're all involved and they're all asking questions. How are the kids doing? What are they like before and after visits? When was the last time Chad and I went out? Do we have enough help? Can we schedule a home visit? Can you change the day of this appointment? How did you handle this situation? And then what happened? And then what did you say to that?
Now, they do more than just ask quesions. They listen to me when I am frustrated and they encourage me and thank me like crazy. And I love that they're so interested in my personal life, like making sure Chad and I go out on dates and encouraging me to send the kids off to other people for afternoons and stuff, but it's quite a bit of information to be handing out all the time. A couple of weeks ago, I had to talk to three different people about the fact that Big has been peeing his pants during visits with his dad. He's not nervous or anything, he just doesn't want to stop playing to use the bathroom so he holds it until he can't anymore. And he's also in the habit of telling me he doesn't have to use the bathroom when I ask him to go. **Side note: This is totally "normal" behavior for foster kids. When Chad and I were going through our training, they kept telling us to be prepared for kids who would poop outside our bedroom door. No joke. Crap in my hallway when I wake up--this is what I had to look forward to. This is because the kids feel so out of control and like they have no say in anything going on in their lives, which is true, and so they try and control what they can. Some kids develop eating disorders. And some kids control their bladder and just let it all go when and where they want to. Now, I have never woken up to poop in the hall. However, the other day, Chad got Little up from a nap and discovered that Little had pooped his pants and tried to hide the turd-filled undies under his bed. And this morning, I was literally standing on his poopy pull-up from last night that he had taken off and laid in the middle of his bedroom floor because it was making him uncomfortable. Do those count? Big has peed all over my bathroom a couple of times out of anger...that was interesting...thankfully the bath mats sopped up most of it. Anyway, I'm not surprised Big is refusing to go to the bathroom when I tell him to. With how crazy everything has been lately, he needs to feel in charge of something. He did the same thing when we first got him a year ago, except then he would fly into a huge rage. Never knew the urge to pee could get so interesting, did you?** That was a very long side note. Okay, so I had to tell three people about the peeing in the pants stuff. What a way to spend a Monday afternoon. We all came to the same conclusion that the child needs to stay indoors for awhile and avoid the playground until he can control his bladder. It did not go over well...with Big or with his dad...but what can you do? If you're going to let a kid keep on playing outside for an HOUR after he pees his pants on a semi-public playground where there are a bunch of little kidlets also playing..well, you get what you get.
Seriously, enough of the pee talk. Life around here has gotten pretty feisty again. The stress of not seeing their mom has made the boys get a little wild. Big is starting to have some big ole freakouts that give me flashbacks of all of last summer. I think my head will explode if I have to go through another summer of all that jazz. And Little is starting to follow in his brother's footsteps. The poor lil guy can hardly relax. Last night, he was yelling at Chad that we were keeping him from seeing his mom. He's only three! Sheesh! It's wild...and it's sad. Chad handled it all really well but you could tell it bothered him to hear Little say that. It's hard sometimes to hear the kids say the stuff that they do. You'd like to think that because you know the majortity of it comes from stress and anxiety, the words will just roll off your back and won't bother you. Like you'll be able to just let them vent and not take any of the insults in because you know they're hurting and they just need to get it all out and they don't really mean it all...but that's not the case. It hurts. If a kid tells you enough times to 'shut up' or that they 'don't care' or they call you 'stupid,' it's going to make you feel pretty crappy. *sigh* Ice cream helps though :) At least there's ice cream.
Seriously though, we love our kids. I know I whine and complain about stuff, but we wouldn't trade them in for everything. I wish certain things would be different, but in the end, I'd rather have all this craziness than no kids at all. And there are definitely enough good moments to balance out the bad. Princess is now telling us she loves us and can do so many more things on her own. Little calls everything 'beautiful' now. Yesterday, he came running into the living room to show me the picture he'd just colored, yelling 'it's beautiful...it's beautiful!' It was so cute :) And Big is all about helping these days. He is the most proud child in the world because he can get ice water for all the kids. All he needs is a stool and our fridge and he's set. It is imPRESSive!
That's all I have time to share today...the minions will be getting up soon and then we're off on some fabulous errand running. We know how to really whoop it up, don't we?
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Hi, my name is...
Sometimes I wonder what people think when they see Chad and I out with the kids. If they're just looking at us, I assume most people think they're ours--I'm forever hearing about how much Little looks like Chad. But then when people are listening to us...it's gotta be confusing. I'm 'Melissa,' 'Lissa,' and 'mommy' at any given moment. Sometimes a kid will call me two of those names in the same minute. The other day, I was playing in the backyard with the kids and the boys were calling me a little bit of everything and I started to think about how it doesn't even phase me anymore.
When we first got the boys (and when we first get any kids, for that matter), we always refer to ourselves as Chad and Melissa. I'd feel weird having them call us 'mom' and 'dad' right away. However, when the kids get more comfortable with us, it's all fair game. They kind of start calling us whatever they want on their own. We had a boy one time that would call me 'mom' whenever we were out in public. It really freaked me out at first, but then I realized it was only happening when we were out, and then it started to make sense. He needed to feel 'normal' around other people. That's a little sad, dontcha think? He was five and he already knew he wasn't like everyone else.
Our kids that we have now could have given me an identity crisis. Am I mom? Am I Melissa? WHO AM IIIII???? hahahaha...that was a bit dramatic :) Honestly, I'm hardly phased by the name flip-flopping anymore. I used to think that if they called me 'mom' and then went back to 'Melissa' that they must not like me as much now. (I know that's just crazy talk, but these are honestly the things that rattle around in my head.) Now I realize that they'll call me what they like and it really just depends on how they're feeling and I need to just let them do it. The hardest part was pretending like I didn't notice the first few times they tried out the 'mommy' on me. Princess only calls us mommy and daddy and Little calls me mommy about 90% of the time but Big was very rarely calling me anything other than 'Melissa' until recently. A few weeks ago they stopped seeing their mom. Some stuff went down and the judge agreed it's in their best interest to suspend her visits for the time being. Their mom has never been thrilled with the kids calling us anything other than our 'real' names and has gotten after them in front of Chad about it. But now that they don't see her, Big is calling me mommy a lot more. Now, Chad kinda just gets called 'Chad' a lot, but his daddy quota has gone up quite a bit lately too.
The whole thing fascinates me a bit. I'd love to know if there has ever been a study done on it. I don't know what precisely it is that I'm so intrigued by, but the whole 'name game' is definitely a thing that makes me go 'hmmmmm.' And it gets even better when we go places and people know they're our foster kids. They'll say something to the kids like, 'go give that to your, um, ummm...' and then they'll turn to Chad or I and ask, 'What do they call you?' If only I knew what to tell them!
I stinkin' love our kids and I love that as we've grown closer to them, they've grown more comfortable with calling us those special names. I have long dreamt of the day when I'd have some sticky little kid call me 'mommy' and I can truly say that the thrill of the reality has far exceeded the expectation of my dreams. I cannot wait for the day when I get to make that title official :)
**For all of you who closely follow our crazy lives, we have a very important court date tomorrow. If anyone from our agency happens to question you about this (ya know, because they totally will...random), I did not tell you it's tomorrow. That, and a bunch of other stuff in this post would be too personal to share, but we do indeed have one tomorrow. It's a biggie and we love when people pray for us, so please do.**
When we first got the boys (and when we first get any kids, for that matter), we always refer to ourselves as Chad and Melissa. I'd feel weird having them call us 'mom' and 'dad' right away. However, when the kids get more comfortable with us, it's all fair game. They kind of start calling us whatever they want on their own. We had a boy one time that would call me 'mom' whenever we were out in public. It really freaked me out at first, but then I realized it was only happening when we were out, and then it started to make sense. He needed to feel 'normal' around other people. That's a little sad, dontcha think? He was five and he already knew he wasn't like everyone else.
Our kids that we have now could have given me an identity crisis. Am I mom? Am I Melissa? WHO AM IIIII???? hahahaha...that was a bit dramatic :) Honestly, I'm hardly phased by the name flip-flopping anymore. I used to think that if they called me 'mom' and then went back to 'Melissa' that they must not like me as much now. (I know that's just crazy talk, but these are honestly the things that rattle around in my head.) Now I realize that they'll call me what they like and it really just depends on how they're feeling and I need to just let them do it. The hardest part was pretending like I didn't notice the first few times they tried out the 'mommy' on me. Princess only calls us mommy and daddy and Little calls me mommy about 90% of the time but Big was very rarely calling me anything other than 'Melissa' until recently. A few weeks ago they stopped seeing their mom. Some stuff went down and the judge agreed it's in their best interest to suspend her visits for the time being. Their mom has never been thrilled with the kids calling us anything other than our 'real' names and has gotten after them in front of Chad about it. But now that they don't see her, Big is calling me mommy a lot more. Now, Chad kinda just gets called 'Chad' a lot, but his daddy quota has gone up quite a bit lately too.
The whole thing fascinates me a bit. I'd love to know if there has ever been a study done on it. I don't know what precisely it is that I'm so intrigued by, but the whole 'name game' is definitely a thing that makes me go 'hmmmmm.' And it gets even better when we go places and people know they're our foster kids. They'll say something to the kids like, 'go give that to your, um, ummm...' and then they'll turn to Chad or I and ask, 'What do they call you?' If only I knew what to tell them!
I stinkin' love our kids and I love that as we've grown closer to them, they've grown more comfortable with calling us those special names. I have long dreamt of the day when I'd have some sticky little kid call me 'mommy' and I can truly say that the thrill of the reality has far exceeded the expectation of my dreams. I cannot wait for the day when I get to make that title official :)
**For all of you who closely follow our crazy lives, we have a very important court date tomorrow. If anyone from our agency happens to question you about this (ya know, because they totally will...random), I did not tell you it's tomorrow. That, and a bunch of other stuff in this post would be too personal to share, but we do indeed have one tomorrow. It's a biggie and we love when people pray for us, so please do.**
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...
This was last night:
Little is now three. He is also now screaming in his bed because he wants the light on. The light was turned off because he wasn't gettting into bed when he was told to. He's supposed to be in his bed while Big takes his shower. Before that, Little was yelling because he wanted pajamas on. He wasn't wearing pajamas because he announced in his indignant little voice "I NOT wear any pajamas!!" and so we let him freeze it out for a bit in just his nighttime diaper to see what it's like to sleep with no jammies. He was less than fond of it...hence the screaming. Before THAT, he was screaming that he wanted a bath because his bath had to get stopped because he kept throwing his clothes into the bathwater. Such is life. Earlier, I had to hold onto Big to keep him from kicking me because he was melting down. When Chad came home from work...Big was in the corner because he told me to shut up, Little was sitting in the kitchen because he kept trying to get at Big, and Princess was sitting on the couch watching it all. Normal people would walk into my house and think, 'what the heck is going on here?' Not Chad. It didn't even phase him.
This was this morning:
While trying to get dressed, I heard Little say 'I telling on you' and then he came running to tell me Big had smacked him in the face. Then Little wanted to goof around instead of getting dressed and so he was running around in his undies. Can I just say, that kid in his little undies is one of the cutest things you'll ever see? At breakfast, all hell broke loose. Big was just in a funk and he didn't want to talk about it and then his yogurt spilled and it turned into a 45 minute meltdown that went through two things of yogurt, his school uniform, and my patience. He got to school half an hour late, but he made it!
Currently, I'm drinking a coke and eating four cheese cheez-its while the little two are taking early naps. It's not really so surprising that the kids are acting this way. Their visit earlier this week was cut short because their parents chose to spend the time speaking with people about the upcoming court date instead of being in the room with the kids and then their visit yesterday got canceled for some very vague reason. It's especially difficult for Big. His mom has been doing pretty well with him lately and this week was a big setback for him. But that's the way life is when you do foster care. The birth parents do stuff that sends the kids into a tailspin and we, the foster parents, get to try like heck to clean up the mess so it can all happen again the next week.
And now...the school is calling me....
Little is now three. He is also now screaming in his bed because he wants the light on. The light was turned off because he wasn't gettting into bed when he was told to. He's supposed to be in his bed while Big takes his shower. Before that, Little was yelling because he wanted pajamas on. He wasn't wearing pajamas because he announced in his indignant little voice "I NOT wear any pajamas!!" and so we let him freeze it out for a bit in just his nighttime diaper to see what it's like to sleep with no jammies. He was less than fond of it...hence the screaming. Before THAT, he was screaming that he wanted a bath because his bath had to get stopped because he kept throwing his clothes into the bathwater. Such is life. Earlier, I had to hold onto Big to keep him from kicking me because he was melting down. When Chad came home from work...Big was in the corner because he told me to shut up, Little was sitting in the kitchen because he kept trying to get at Big, and Princess was sitting on the couch watching it all. Normal people would walk into my house and think, 'what the heck is going on here?' Not Chad. It didn't even phase him.
This was this morning:
While trying to get dressed, I heard Little say 'I telling on you' and then he came running to tell me Big had smacked him in the face. Then Little wanted to goof around instead of getting dressed and so he was running around in his undies. Can I just say, that kid in his little undies is one of the cutest things you'll ever see? At breakfast, all hell broke loose. Big was just in a funk and he didn't want to talk about it and then his yogurt spilled and it turned into a 45 minute meltdown that went through two things of yogurt, his school uniform, and my patience. He got to school half an hour late, but he made it!
Currently, I'm drinking a coke and eating four cheese cheez-its while the little two are taking early naps. It's not really so surprising that the kids are acting this way. Their visit earlier this week was cut short because their parents chose to spend the time speaking with people about the upcoming court date instead of being in the room with the kids and then their visit yesterday got canceled for some very vague reason. It's especially difficult for Big. His mom has been doing pretty well with him lately and this week was a big setback for him. But that's the way life is when you do foster care. The birth parents do stuff that sends the kids into a tailspin and we, the foster parents, get to try like heck to clean up the mess so it can all happen again the next week.
And now...the school is calling me....
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Sinner, not a saint.
I have been trying and TRYING to write a new blog for weeks now, and it's just not working. Everything I write doesn't come out right and it doesn't all go together so I keep deleting everything. Someone told me today to just do it already though and not worry so much about how it sounded, so here I go.
I am not a saint.
I feel like I am placed on a pedestal some days when people here that I do foster care and it drives me a little loco. Chad and I didn't get into foster care because we're super shiny people with super shiny halos who just love love love helping wounded kids and their parents. This wasn't in our "plan" for our life. This wasn't a calling that was driven by a passion of ours. It's actually the opposite. First came the call, then the passion. People are forever telling us how wonderful we are, and some even tear up when we mention that we're foster parents as if we're these amazing humanitarians or something, but it's not really the case. Newsflash: Chad and I wanted to have kids of our own. We even went so far as to try fertility treatments because we wanted kids so much, but it never worked. And foster care gives us the opportunity to have kids in our home. Real, live kids, who call us mommy and daddy and tell us they love us. And they pay us to do it. Bonus! I'm pretty sure saints don't get paid....
Before we got into all this, I used to have a really bad case of baby fever. You know what I mean--where all you can think about is having a baby, where you seriously contemplate buying a onesie you think is cute because you just know you're going to have a baby someday, and where you constantly check out the latest and greatest in strollers so that you'll be on top of your game when that magical day comes. Other symptoms include a constant urge to pee on white plastic sticks, a secret shameful jealousy of anything pregnant, and an unnatural obsession with the first day of your last menstrual cycle.
In my fever-induced hysteria, I thought the only cure was an actual baby--but I was wrong. God had a plan for us and all He needed from us was to be willing to go where He wanted us to. If I had the time, I'd tell you the whole story. It's pretty amazing to look at the whole thing--you can't deny that God was in control of it all. He gave us the call to get licensed and to open up our home to children (not just tiny babies), and over the past fifteen and a half months, He's cultivated a passion in us to help these children--to love them and to show kindness to their parents. He's broken my baby fever and continuously works to keep me from a total relapse, despite myself. Throughout all of this though, He's blessed us even more with an even stronger marriage, the ability for me to quit my job and stay home with the kids, and, if the day comes, to adopt children for basically nothing and continue to stay home with them. I often feel that I get more out of this than the kids do. We are not saints for doing foster care. We are quite possibly some of the luckiest people in the world. We were called into doing this and we answered that call with quasi-obedience (you can drag your feet, whining the whole way and still be obedient, right?) and so God has blessed us for it. Life is not always easy. We don't always get what we want. And we definitely have had our share of ups and downs recently. Hopefully I'll be able to sit down again soon and let everyone in on what the kids are up to because, my land, they've been up to a lot! For instance, I've got a kid starting meds soon, a kid who's now pretty much potty trained, and a kid who can shake her finger and say "fiiiiieeeeerce" like she means it :) Life is good :)
I am not a saint.
I feel like I am placed on a pedestal some days when people here that I do foster care and it drives me a little loco. Chad and I didn't get into foster care because we're super shiny people with super shiny halos who just love love love helping wounded kids and their parents. This wasn't in our "plan" for our life. This wasn't a calling that was driven by a passion of ours. It's actually the opposite. First came the call, then the passion. People are forever telling us how wonderful we are, and some even tear up when we mention that we're foster parents as if we're these amazing humanitarians or something, but it's not really the case. Newsflash: Chad and I wanted to have kids of our own. We even went so far as to try fertility treatments because we wanted kids so much, but it never worked. And foster care gives us the opportunity to have kids in our home. Real, live kids, who call us mommy and daddy and tell us they love us. And they pay us to do it. Bonus! I'm pretty sure saints don't get paid....
Before we got into all this, I used to have a really bad case of baby fever. You know what I mean--where all you can think about is having a baby, where you seriously contemplate buying a onesie you think is cute because you just know you're going to have a baby someday, and where you constantly check out the latest and greatest in strollers so that you'll be on top of your game when that magical day comes. Other symptoms include a constant urge to pee on white plastic sticks, a secret shameful jealousy of anything pregnant, and an unnatural obsession with the first day of your last menstrual cycle.
In my fever-induced hysteria, I thought the only cure was an actual baby--but I was wrong. God had a plan for us and all He needed from us was to be willing to go where He wanted us to. If I had the time, I'd tell you the whole story. It's pretty amazing to look at the whole thing--you can't deny that God was in control of it all. He gave us the call to get licensed and to open up our home to children (not just tiny babies), and over the past fifteen and a half months, He's cultivated a passion in us to help these children--to love them and to show kindness to their parents. He's broken my baby fever and continuously works to keep me from a total relapse, despite myself. Throughout all of this though, He's blessed us even more with an even stronger marriage, the ability for me to quit my job and stay home with the kids, and, if the day comes, to adopt children for basically nothing and continue to stay home with them. I often feel that I get more out of this than the kids do. We are not saints for doing foster care. We are quite possibly some of the luckiest people in the world. We were called into doing this and we answered that call with quasi-obedience (you can drag your feet, whining the whole way and still be obedient, right?) and so God has blessed us for it. Life is not always easy. We don't always get what we want. And we definitely have had our share of ups and downs recently. Hopefully I'll be able to sit down again soon and let everyone in on what the kids are up to because, my land, they've been up to a lot! For instance, I've got a kid starting meds soon, a kid who's now pretty much potty trained, and a kid who can shake her finger and say "fiiiiieeeeerce" like she means it :) Life is good :)
Monday, February 28, 2011
Ignorance is...
It seems like eeeevvvverybody has an opinion on foster care and for the most part, it's not good. I cannot even tell you all the times I have heard people griping about how foster parents are horrible and only in it for the money and how they don't actually care about the kids. Or all the news stories about a foster parent gone bad or kids who were in the system talking about how much their lives sucked while in foster care. Every once in a blue moon, you'll see a special guest story about a couple who've fostered a million kids over the years and sent them all to college or you'll see a story about siblings reunited and stuff like that but, for the most part, it's all bad news and horror stories. Don't get me wrong-there are definitely some things that need to be fixed. And not everyone who gets into foster care is in it for the right reasons. But the majority of people getting licensed are doing it because they love kids and they want to make a difference for them--not to make a quick buck (because, believe me, there's not really a ton of money in foster care). And honestly, who wants to read a news story titled "Foster mom almost stabbed by foster child's fork doesn't try to hit him back" or "Foster parents log 10,000 miles in six months taking kids to visits three days a week" Yawn. Both these things have happened to me and I don't even want to read about them.
The biggest problem I think people have is that they are ignorant of the system and what actually goes on in a foster home. It's so easy for people to get their undies in a bunch when they see a foster parent snap in the news or when they see kids going back to homes they really shouldn't be returning to, and trust me, I know those things shouldn't be happening either, but it's not just a little black and white world in foster care--there's a LOT of gray areas. I mean, we're talking about taking away someone's CHILD for the rest of their lives--it's going to get sticky!
Foster care is pretty much pass/fail. Sometimes kids are going to be going back to homes where the parents are pulling a solid D- in the parenting department because the law says that a D- is still passing. They'll put services galore in the home and keep as close an eye as possible and, unfortunately, that's the best they can do. They can't really pull a kid away from their family just because they think they'll have a crappy life. It's crappy, I know (believe me, I KNOW!) but until we reach full blown Big Brother status, it's just not going to happen that way.
And then there's the team of people working on the case. There are the foster parents and the GAL (a lawyer for the kids) who work solely for the kids and to protect their welfare. (I consider part of my job to help the kids maintain a good relationship with their parents though so Chad and I do what we can in that area.) Then there's a caseworker who has the incredibly difficult task of trying to serve the parents and protect the kids. It's not an easy job. Right now, our caseworker has a very gray and sticky situation where if she does her job for the kids, she might be causing a problem with the parents and if she does her job for the parents, she'll be hurting the kids. It's a tough situation, but luckily the GAL is there to help shed a little light-of-the-law on the situation so the right decision can be made. I think our GAL is currently handling over 200 cases and our caseworker can have up to 17 kids on her caseload as well. For a GAL, they have to observe the kids once every three months and keep in contact with the caseworker and then show up to court with a recommendation for a continuance or for termination. Our caseworker talks to me at least three times a week and she oversees the visits and the parents' drug screens and other services and she writes up all these super detailed reports and visits my house at least once a month-and that's just my case. She has many others as well.
We're fortunate that we have private agencies where we live and we didn't have to get licensed through Department of Human Services where the caseworkers are even more bogged down with cases and have less time to spend with you. The news stories about foster homes gone bad are usually licensed through DHS where there just isn't as much support or accountability. I love our agency. I love that the woman who licensed us will stalk me to get an update on how I'm doing and how when they sent us a recruitment check awhile back, she yelled at me because I spent it on the kids and not on a night out for Chad and I. I love that when our caseworker did her home visit last week, she asked if Chad and I were taking the time to get out together and if we had anyone who could watch the kids so we could go on dates. And I love that if I am FREAKING OUT about something that just happened, I can always get a hold of someone...even if it's after hours, because I have their cell phone numbers too. And I truly love that they all care so much about the kids that I can see them getting upset at situations right alongside us. They care SO MUCH. See, it's not all horror stories and disasters :)
People say ignorance is bliss. But I think ignorance in this case is the enemy. It breeds gossip and slander and it casts a bad light on a system that, though it has bad points, is as good as it's going to get for now. And I think if people are really so truly put off by the deplorableness of foster care, then they can pick up their phones and get licensed themselves. I'd love to see what they'd have to say then ;)
The biggest problem I think people have is that they are ignorant of the system and what actually goes on in a foster home. It's so easy for people to get their undies in a bunch when they see a foster parent snap in the news or when they see kids going back to homes they really shouldn't be returning to, and trust me, I know those things shouldn't be happening either, but it's not just a little black and white world in foster care--there's a LOT of gray areas. I mean, we're talking about taking away someone's CHILD for the rest of their lives--it's going to get sticky!
Foster care is pretty much pass/fail. Sometimes kids are going to be going back to homes where the parents are pulling a solid D- in the parenting department because the law says that a D- is still passing. They'll put services galore in the home and keep as close an eye as possible and, unfortunately, that's the best they can do. They can't really pull a kid away from their family just because they think they'll have a crappy life. It's crappy, I know (believe me, I KNOW!) but until we reach full blown Big Brother status, it's just not going to happen that way.
And then there's the team of people working on the case. There are the foster parents and the GAL (a lawyer for the kids) who work solely for the kids and to protect their welfare. (I consider part of my job to help the kids maintain a good relationship with their parents though so Chad and I do what we can in that area.) Then there's a caseworker who has the incredibly difficult task of trying to serve the parents and protect the kids. It's not an easy job. Right now, our caseworker has a very gray and sticky situation where if she does her job for the kids, she might be causing a problem with the parents and if she does her job for the parents, she'll be hurting the kids. It's a tough situation, but luckily the GAL is there to help shed a little light-of-the-law on the situation so the right decision can be made. I think our GAL is currently handling over 200 cases and our caseworker can have up to 17 kids on her caseload as well. For a GAL, they have to observe the kids once every three months and keep in contact with the caseworker and then show up to court with a recommendation for a continuance or for termination. Our caseworker talks to me at least three times a week and she oversees the visits and the parents' drug screens and other services and she writes up all these super detailed reports and visits my house at least once a month-and that's just my case. She has many others as well.
We're fortunate that we have private agencies where we live and we didn't have to get licensed through Department of Human Services where the caseworkers are even more bogged down with cases and have less time to spend with you. The news stories about foster homes gone bad are usually licensed through DHS where there just isn't as much support or accountability. I love our agency. I love that the woman who licensed us will stalk me to get an update on how I'm doing and how when they sent us a recruitment check awhile back, she yelled at me because I spent it on the kids and not on a night out for Chad and I. I love that when our caseworker did her home visit last week, she asked if Chad and I were taking the time to get out together and if we had anyone who could watch the kids so we could go on dates. And I love that if I am FREAKING OUT about something that just happened, I can always get a hold of someone...even if it's after hours, because I have their cell phone numbers too. And I truly love that they all care so much about the kids that I can see them getting upset at situations right alongside us. They care SO MUCH. See, it's not all horror stories and disasters :)
People say ignorance is bliss. But I think ignorance in this case is the enemy. It breeds gossip and slander and it casts a bad light on a system that, though it has bad points, is as good as it's going to get for now. And I think if people are really so truly put off by the deplorableness of foster care, then they can pick up their phones and get licensed themselves. I'd love to see what they'd have to say then ;)
Monday, February 7, 2011
In the words of Beyonce, "I'm a Survivor"
Well, I made it! I survived five and a half hours of recruiting Saturday and I didn't cry once and I only shared my tampon story with the people I was working with! I did, however, high-five one girl because our ovaries hate us. It wasn't so bad though. I was nervous about it all when I got there but there were other workers and stuff so it went pretty smoothly. It was kind of funny to watch people walk right past our table like we were going to force them to take some seriously troubled kid home with them THAT NIGHT if they dared make eye contact with us...or to have people laugh when we asked them if they'd ever thought about foster care. I was surprised at how many people were honestly interested in getting licensed though. It was really sweet to hear their stories. There were people who knew kids who had had horrible things happen to them-and they'd wished they'd been able to take the kids into their homes, but couldn't. There were people who couldn't have any more kids-or kids at all, like me- but who really wanted a big family. And there were people whose nests were now empty and they couldn't stand the quiet. It was quite the honor to be the token foster parent at the table because I was given the opportunity to answer a lot of questions and kind of reassure people that they won't just get kids dumped on them and then have no support. It was really a very good experience, and I look forward to being able to work with Open Hearts, Open Homes again in the future :)
So, things have been a little crazy around here lately. Most of what is going on I'm not allowed to post on here and it's killing me because I don't think there's any better look into the wide world of foster care than what we're dealing with right now. Let's just say that life is very up and down around here right now...and a little tense. There are some big decisions to be made soon and some of the steps involved in making those decisions are going to come down to the wire, it seems. It's just got to be so difficult to be a parent of a kid in foster care, or the caseworker, or the therapist. I recently got to sit in on some of the work that goes on "behind the scenes" and it was obvious to me that I had no clue just how much work these people are all doing for these kids. I could never do their jobs. Never. I would cry every stinking night.
On a much lighter subject, Little is potty training! Let me tell ya, it's special. We have a sticker chart up in the bathroom downstairs and he gets a sticker everytime he's still dry when it's time to use the potty again. And he won't just let us take his word that he's dry. He yells "touch it" until one of us awkwardly pats his undies and says "Yup, that's dry. Good job!" He's been doing pretty well at staying dry all day. He's only wearing a diaper at naptime and bedtime-which I think is pretty amazing after only a week of serious training. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of being able to tell us when it's time to go yet, but we're getting there!
Big is trying to give me gray hair despite the fact I just got all mine colored. I know he's going through a difficult phase right now and that most of his actions are the result of anxiety that's triggered by who knows what, but it's still proving to be a true test of just how much I love that kid. He's been here eight months now, which is a long stinking time in his short little life, and I feel like maybe he's fighting some natural feelings of attachment. Like, we're at the point now that he's been here long enough that he's starting to really think of me as more of a mom (hence, the other day, when I was trying to get the boys to call me 'Melissa' instead of 'Lee-sa' like they usually do, and I asked Big what my name was and he said 'mom' as if it was the only thing he's ever called me) but, at the same time, his visits with his mom are getting increased and so he's seeing her more and he just doesn't know who to be allegiant to. I'm with him all the time and I'm currently raising him, so on the one hand, I'm the natural choice for "mother figure" in his life right now but on the OTHER hand, there's his mom, spending more time with him, doing better and he's had her for five years, so she's also a natural choice for "mother figure" and so who's he going to side with? The thing is, he doesn't have to choose a side-but I think he feels like he does. And I think it's really bugging him and so he's acting all weird and I'm going to die soon if it doesn't stop. Poor kid, he's just got so much turmoil in him and I can't wait for the day when it all stops. Little does he know, but he gets to see his dad later today. He hasn't seen him in almost four months and he's going to freaking explode with excitement when he sees him later :)
Alright, that's all I have time for now. The little two are napping and Big is looking at books and so I need to take advantage of this very quiet time. Shouldn't he be at school, you ask? Yes, yes he should. But when a kid gets into so much trouble that he's sent home for the day, they get to look at books in a chair facing the corner until the end of the school day. Mondays are always fun :)
So, things have been a little crazy around here lately. Most of what is going on I'm not allowed to post on here and it's killing me because I don't think there's any better look into the wide world of foster care than what we're dealing with right now. Let's just say that life is very up and down around here right now...and a little tense. There are some big decisions to be made soon and some of the steps involved in making those decisions are going to come down to the wire, it seems. It's just got to be so difficult to be a parent of a kid in foster care, or the caseworker, or the therapist. I recently got to sit in on some of the work that goes on "behind the scenes" and it was obvious to me that I had no clue just how much work these people are all doing for these kids. I could never do their jobs. Never. I would cry every stinking night.
On a much lighter subject, Little is potty training! Let me tell ya, it's special. We have a sticker chart up in the bathroom downstairs and he gets a sticker everytime he's still dry when it's time to use the potty again. And he won't just let us take his word that he's dry. He yells "touch it" until one of us awkwardly pats his undies and says "Yup, that's dry. Good job!" He's been doing pretty well at staying dry all day. He's only wearing a diaper at naptime and bedtime-which I think is pretty amazing after only a week of serious training. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of being able to tell us when it's time to go yet, but we're getting there!
Big is trying to give me gray hair despite the fact I just got all mine colored. I know he's going through a difficult phase right now and that most of his actions are the result of anxiety that's triggered by who knows what, but it's still proving to be a true test of just how much I love that kid. He's been here eight months now, which is a long stinking time in his short little life, and I feel like maybe he's fighting some natural feelings of attachment. Like, we're at the point now that he's been here long enough that he's starting to really think of me as more of a mom (hence, the other day, when I was trying to get the boys to call me 'Melissa' instead of 'Lee-sa' like they usually do, and I asked Big what my name was and he said 'mom' as if it was the only thing he's ever called me) but, at the same time, his visits with his mom are getting increased and so he's seeing her more and he just doesn't know who to be allegiant to. I'm with him all the time and I'm currently raising him, so on the one hand, I'm the natural choice for "mother figure" in his life right now but on the OTHER hand, there's his mom, spending more time with him, doing better and he's had her for five years, so she's also a natural choice for "mother figure" and so who's he going to side with? The thing is, he doesn't have to choose a side-but I think he feels like he does. And I think it's really bugging him and so he's acting all weird and I'm going to die soon if it doesn't stop. Poor kid, he's just got so much turmoil in him and I can't wait for the day when it all stops. Little does he know, but he gets to see his dad later today. He hasn't seen him in almost four months and he's going to freaking explode with excitement when he sees him later :)
Alright, that's all I have time for now. The little two are napping and Big is looking at books and so I need to take advantage of this very quiet time. Shouldn't he be at school, you ask? Yes, yes he should. But when a kid gets into so much trouble that he's sent home for the day, they get to look at books in a chair facing the corner until the end of the school day. Mondays are always fun :)
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Come see me next week!
My husband just asked me if I'd written a new post recently and I told him that's what I'm doing right now and he asked if it was going to be about how awesome he is...and then he flexed his muscles. Oh boy. To be honest, he IS pretty awesome...he's currently doing a load of dishes. I mean, who doesn't love a husband who does that!!! But, sadly, this is not all about him and his awesomeness. Maybe some other day, Chad.
Alright, on to regular stuff. Next Saturday (February 5) from 1:00-6:00 P.M. I'll be at the STVCC booth at the Lansing Women's Expo converting people into foster parents. Woot woot!!! Women aren't even going to know what hit them. So if you want to come see what foster care/adoption is all about....I would love to show you :) Don't worry, I won't make you leave with a kid or anything...I promise ;)
When they asked me to help work the booth, I instantly thought of two things:
1. What am I going to wear?
2. What am I going to say to people?
Well, the clothing situation worked itself out. But the speaking part...I mean...I pretty much always start crying when I tell people about the kids these days. Motherhood has turned me into a bit of a blubbering pansy. And I'm pretty sure that the people at St. V's aren't asking me to come and cry at their table for five hours, so I started thinking of some of the funny things that the kids have done. And then I landed on the best and probably most inappropriate story that ever happened to us and that I will most likely not be sharing next weekend because it's a little personal but I, for some reason, feel TOTALLY comfortable sharing on here. Are ya ready? Some of you already know this one...
Okay, so originally when we got the kids, we just got Big and Little first because we had another boy who was going home soon and we didn't have room for Princess. The boys came with just a couple of laundry bags full of clothes and a couple of stuffed animals...no toys or anything and the other kid we had was not always very good about sharing so Big was kinda upset a lot at first that he didn't really have any toys (that he wanted). One of the very first nights we had them, we were tucking the boys in and when Chad and I came in the room, Big shoved his hands under the blankets real quick. You know, like how kids do it when they're trying to secretly play with something they're not supposed to have. I asked him what he had and he kept telling me 'nothing' but I knew better so I pulled back the blanket and guess what I found? Well, let's just say it was "that time of the month" for me and let's just say I apparently had not done a good enough job of wrapping something up and let's just say that Big had, indeed, found an applicator in the garbage and was playing with it in his bed, because, ya know, it's kinda like a rocket thing!!!! OH. MY. LAND. I don't think I've ever been at such a loss for words!!! I was DYing!!! Chad pretty much left the room at that point. I grabbed the "toy" away from Big and told him "Do you know what this is? It's not a toy! It's been in my (and here I paused for half a second and caught myself from saying the v-word to a little kid but not long enough to catch myself from saying...)butt! (then I caught myself again) TOUCHED my butt! It's TOUCHED my butt!" I've never seen anyone's eyes get as big as Big's did and, after he washed his hands, he stopped playing in our garbage and I started super reinforcing my garbage once a month so we'd never have to repeat that again.
It's quite possibly my most hilarious anecdote about anything and for sure my most hilarious about foster care, but again, I'm not quite sure it's entirely appropriate for strangers. It does show though, that kids who don't have much are desparate for something to play with and will, indeed, play with just about anything. And it shows that kids who are neglected are not above digging in the garbage for entertainment. So I'm still searching for what to say to people next week but I'm thinking that it'll just come to me. Hopefully it won't be anything too embarrassing or that makes me cry. Something between the range of tears and tampons...that shouldn't be too hard to come up with, right?
Alright, on to regular stuff. Next Saturday (February 5) from 1:00-6:00 P.M. I'll be at the STVCC booth at the Lansing Women's Expo converting people into foster parents. Woot woot!!! Women aren't even going to know what hit them. So if you want to come see what foster care/adoption is all about....I would love to show you :) Don't worry, I won't make you leave with a kid or anything...I promise ;)
When they asked me to help work the booth, I instantly thought of two things:
1. What am I going to wear?
2. What am I going to say to people?
Well, the clothing situation worked itself out. But the speaking part...I mean...I pretty much always start crying when I tell people about the kids these days. Motherhood has turned me into a bit of a blubbering pansy. And I'm pretty sure that the people at St. V's aren't asking me to come and cry at their table for five hours, so I started thinking of some of the funny things that the kids have done. And then I landed on the best and probably most inappropriate story that ever happened to us and that I will most likely not be sharing next weekend because it's a little personal but I, for some reason, feel TOTALLY comfortable sharing on here. Are ya ready? Some of you already know this one...
Okay, so originally when we got the kids, we just got Big and Little first because we had another boy who was going home soon and we didn't have room for Princess. The boys came with just a couple of laundry bags full of clothes and a couple of stuffed animals...no toys or anything and the other kid we had was not always very good about sharing so Big was kinda upset a lot at first that he didn't really have any toys (that he wanted). One of the very first nights we had them, we were tucking the boys in and when Chad and I came in the room, Big shoved his hands under the blankets real quick. You know, like how kids do it when they're trying to secretly play with something they're not supposed to have. I asked him what he had and he kept telling me 'nothing' but I knew better so I pulled back the blanket and guess what I found? Well, let's just say it was "that time of the month" for me and let's just say I apparently had not done a good enough job of wrapping something up and let's just say that Big had, indeed, found an applicator in the garbage and was playing with it in his bed, because, ya know, it's kinda like a rocket thing!!!! OH. MY. LAND. I don't think I've ever been at such a loss for words!!! I was DYing!!! Chad pretty much left the room at that point. I grabbed the "toy" away from Big and told him "Do you know what this is? It's not a toy! It's been in my (and here I paused for half a second and caught myself from saying the v-word to a little kid but not long enough to catch myself from saying...)butt! (then I caught myself again) TOUCHED my butt! It's TOUCHED my butt!" I've never seen anyone's eyes get as big as Big's did and, after he washed his hands, he stopped playing in our garbage and I started super reinforcing my garbage once a month so we'd never have to repeat that again.
It's quite possibly my most hilarious anecdote about anything and for sure my most hilarious about foster care, but again, I'm not quite sure it's entirely appropriate for strangers. It does show though, that kids who don't have much are desparate for something to play with and will, indeed, play with just about anything. And it shows that kids who are neglected are not above digging in the garbage for entertainment. So I'm still searching for what to say to people next week but I'm thinking that it'll just come to me. Hopefully it won't be anything too embarrassing or that makes me cry. Something between the range of tears and tampons...that shouldn't be too hard to come up with, right?
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Oy to the Vey
Oh, how I wish I could post a picture of what the kids are doing right now! I'm pretty sure it's every parents dream for a morning where mommy is just plain over it. No joke, Little and Princess are lying on the couch with pillows and blankets because Little has announced that "I ti-ahd!" I'm not going to lie, it's bliss...so I'm stealing this opportunity to tell you that we have had QUITE the week...and it's only Thursday morning. Oy to the Vey.
I drove 103.3 miles on Monday taking the children to school, babysitters, and appointments. It was a very long day with short little stops at home here and there and it ended with me buying out the turnovers from Arby's in order to survive the last hour of errands. Princess' carseat has never been stickier. Oh wait, that wasn't the end. The end was when Chad announced he found the source of the mysterious stink in our house...our sewere cap thingy in the front yard needed to be snaked. Barf. Tuesday was a visit day and it started out rough for Big and just continued on that way. After the visit, things got ugly. Big had such a meltdown that I wound up having to hold onto him for a long time...something I haven't had to do since the summer. He finally calmed down long enough to eat and while he was having dinner, Princess came over to give him a hug and Big just started crying. He looked so miserable and I asked him what was wrong and he just wailed "I miss my daaaadddd!" Ugh. The poor kid has not seen his dad for a few months now and we're not exactly sure when he'll get to see him again and it's just so hard on him. I think one of the downsides of foster care is that you're not always allowed to tell the kids what's really going on. You get to love them like they're your own, but you don't always get to treat them that way. You have to be a little deceptive and I don't like that. I don't like pretending I don't know what's going on when I do. I would much rather be straight with Big but I can't and I know I can't because he's not "my" kid, he's not "normal" and he doesn't process information like the "average" kid...hence the outbursts. On top of that, my caseworker and Big's mom would probably kill me ;)
Anywho, Tuesday was also our quiet night so things perked up after that. I'm excited for the challenge this year. For all you who read this that don't attend our Church, every year our pastor presents us with a Spiritual Discipline Challenge. Sometimes it's a book, sometimes we have to get off our butts and do stuff and this year it's to have one quiet night a week where there are no cell phones, tv, video games, facebook...nothing. Just you and your families enjoying each other's company. The kids can still play with their toys but we're encouraged to play with them more and to spend some quality time together. I have to admit, it was pretty awesome. It was just what I needed after the craziness of the evening and Chad and I had a great conversation and I got to read for awhile...it was lovely <3
Anywho, Wednesday was okay...just long. And today, Little has decided he'd like to yell...a lot. It's just one of those weeks. I can't really blame the kids for being ornery. They don't sleep well after a visit day and it just takes a little time to get all their little feelings out and get back to normal. I can't even imagine what it's like to be inside their heads. Some days/weeks are better than others and we're just trying to take it all in stride (trying being the opeartive word there. I'm medicating with a little chocolate today). I know they're anxious. I mean, they never really know when they're going to get to see their parents or which one is going to be there. There's no stability for them-even in a scheduled weekly visit. It's just garbage. It seems like the only thing they can be sure of is that they'll be disappointed again soon. It's sad, but it's their reality-and the reality of so many other foster kids out there whose parents just aren't doing the things they need to be doing all the time. I remember when I was taking the kids for a visit one time that there was another foster mom there who had brought her foster child up for his final visit with his parents because they had lost their rights and the birth dad didn't even show up. It was heartbreaking. Can you even imagine knowing it was the last time you were going to see your dad and then he didn't even come?
There needs to be more foster parents out there to love these children through these tough times. And there need to be more adoptive parents out there who refuse to pass over these kids just because they're a little troubled. It's not their fault they're this way and they deserve loving parents and a good home just as much as the next kid-and maybe even a little bit more so because of all the hurt they've gone through. Trust me, everytime they unexpectedly give you a hug and tell you they love you or look at you for a second and then smile and say 'mama'...they'll win you right over. Both of those things happened to me today, and I've gotta tell ya...it made my week :)
I drove 103.3 miles on Monday taking the children to school, babysitters, and appointments. It was a very long day with short little stops at home here and there and it ended with me buying out the turnovers from Arby's in order to survive the last hour of errands. Princess' carseat has never been stickier. Oh wait, that wasn't the end. The end was when Chad announced he found the source of the mysterious stink in our house...our sewere cap thingy in the front yard needed to be snaked. Barf. Tuesday was a visit day and it started out rough for Big and just continued on that way. After the visit, things got ugly. Big had such a meltdown that I wound up having to hold onto him for a long time...something I haven't had to do since the summer. He finally calmed down long enough to eat and while he was having dinner, Princess came over to give him a hug and Big just started crying. He looked so miserable and I asked him what was wrong and he just wailed "I miss my daaaadddd!" Ugh. The poor kid has not seen his dad for a few months now and we're not exactly sure when he'll get to see him again and it's just so hard on him. I think one of the downsides of foster care is that you're not always allowed to tell the kids what's really going on. You get to love them like they're your own, but you don't always get to treat them that way. You have to be a little deceptive and I don't like that. I don't like pretending I don't know what's going on when I do. I would much rather be straight with Big but I can't and I know I can't because he's not "my" kid, he's not "normal" and he doesn't process information like the "average" kid...hence the outbursts. On top of that, my caseworker and Big's mom would probably kill me ;)
Anywho, Tuesday was also our quiet night so things perked up after that. I'm excited for the challenge this year. For all you who read this that don't attend our Church, every year our pastor presents us with a Spiritual Discipline Challenge. Sometimes it's a book, sometimes we have to get off our butts and do stuff and this year it's to have one quiet night a week where there are no cell phones, tv, video games, facebook...nothing. Just you and your families enjoying each other's company. The kids can still play with their toys but we're encouraged to play with them more and to spend some quality time together. I have to admit, it was pretty awesome. It was just what I needed after the craziness of the evening and Chad and I had a great conversation and I got to read for awhile...it was lovely <3
Anywho, Wednesday was okay...just long. And today, Little has decided he'd like to yell...a lot. It's just one of those weeks. I can't really blame the kids for being ornery. They don't sleep well after a visit day and it just takes a little time to get all their little feelings out and get back to normal. I can't even imagine what it's like to be inside their heads. Some days/weeks are better than others and we're just trying to take it all in stride (trying being the opeartive word there. I'm medicating with a little chocolate today). I know they're anxious. I mean, they never really know when they're going to get to see their parents or which one is going to be there. There's no stability for them-even in a scheduled weekly visit. It's just garbage. It seems like the only thing they can be sure of is that they'll be disappointed again soon. It's sad, but it's their reality-and the reality of so many other foster kids out there whose parents just aren't doing the things they need to be doing all the time. I remember when I was taking the kids for a visit one time that there was another foster mom there who had brought her foster child up for his final visit with his parents because they had lost their rights and the birth dad didn't even show up. It was heartbreaking. Can you even imagine knowing it was the last time you were going to see your dad and then he didn't even come?
There needs to be more foster parents out there to love these children through these tough times. And there need to be more adoptive parents out there who refuse to pass over these kids just because they're a little troubled. It's not their fault they're this way and they deserve loving parents and a good home just as much as the next kid-and maybe even a little bit more so because of all the hurt they've gone through. Trust me, everytime they unexpectedly give you a hug and tell you they love you or look at you for a second and then smile and say 'mama'...they'll win you right over. Both of those things happened to me today, and I've gotta tell ya...it made my week :)
Monday, January 3, 2011
These ties that bind...
Chad and I have a pretty good system. The kids have a two hour visit these days and so when Chad can get out of work on time, we drop the kids off together and then we go out for dinner while they're visiting. On weeks when he can't get out on time, then I drop off the kids and he picks them up so that we each get a little bit of alone time. It's pretty awesome :)
The other week though, when Chad got home from picking up the kids, he was a little sad because Princess didn't want to come to him. Usually, after a visit, she clings to her mom a little bit and doesn't want to come to me but she'll go to Chad. That week, she didn't even want to go to Chad. The man was heartbroken! We're not disillusioned about who her parents are or anything...we know our role. And I reminded him that she doesn't really have a bad memory of her experience at home. For her, she's got a good memory of her parents...Big is the one with the bad memories. I mean, she's the baby and the only girl so she gets doted on whenever she's around her mom. So for Princess, it really is a little traumatic, despite how much she loves us. It's still a bummer though...I have to admit it. The first time she didn't want to come to me, a little piece of my heart was crushed too. *sigh*
It's crazy to see how bonded kids are to their biological parents despite having to be taken away from them. It doesn't matter what the situation is they came from, they'd rather be with their parents than anywhere else. We had these kids whose parent pretty much just gave up on them...packed up their things and was done with them. And the "things" the kids had had to remain on my porch overnight so I could freeze to death anything that might be living in their stuff. (That was a first and hopefully "only" for me!) You would think they'd be thrilled to be out of that situation...thrilled to have a hot bath and a nice warm bed...they were up half the night crying out for their mother. I mean, just screaming for mommy. (Consequently, I was up half the night crying too.) We've had kids who were left alone in their homes and who didn't have proper nutrition or clean places to live and they too desired to be with their parents. Even kids who had been smacked around some and who knew that was wrong...they still wished to be home. They were even willing to lie to cover stuff up so that their parents wouldn't get into trouble. They'd rather be home in the midst of all that craziness and wrongdoing than separated from their parents because that bond is just natural. Children are naturally bonded to their birthparents. Like, freakishly so. (However, it's not to say that they can't be bonded to anyone else, because they can. The first thing Little did this morning when he got up was to hug me and tell me that he loved me. <3)
It's hard not to go to the "bad place" when you think about the parents and the kids and stuff but I try to stay away from it. It's of no benefit to the kids if I'm envisioning punching out their parents everytime I see them! As much as I'd like to give the parents a piece of my mind...it's best to just smile and nod and encourage. Don't people say something about the hardest part of parenting is doing what's best for your kids?
I suggest everyone squeeze their kids extra tight today and remind them of how much you love them. Because, honestly, I don't think we can show them enough!!!!
The other week though, when Chad got home from picking up the kids, he was a little sad because Princess didn't want to come to him. Usually, after a visit, she clings to her mom a little bit and doesn't want to come to me but she'll go to Chad. That week, she didn't even want to go to Chad. The man was heartbroken! We're not disillusioned about who her parents are or anything...we know our role. And I reminded him that she doesn't really have a bad memory of her experience at home. For her, she's got a good memory of her parents...Big is the one with the bad memories. I mean, she's the baby and the only girl so she gets doted on whenever she's around her mom. So for Princess, it really is a little traumatic, despite how much she loves us. It's still a bummer though...I have to admit it. The first time she didn't want to come to me, a little piece of my heart was crushed too. *sigh*
It's crazy to see how bonded kids are to their biological parents despite having to be taken away from them. It doesn't matter what the situation is they came from, they'd rather be with their parents than anywhere else. We had these kids whose parent pretty much just gave up on them...packed up their things and was done with them. And the "things" the kids had had to remain on my porch overnight so I could freeze to death anything that might be living in their stuff. (That was a first and hopefully "only" for me!) You would think they'd be thrilled to be out of that situation...thrilled to have a hot bath and a nice warm bed...they were up half the night crying out for their mother. I mean, just screaming for mommy. (Consequently, I was up half the night crying too.) We've had kids who were left alone in their homes and who didn't have proper nutrition or clean places to live and they too desired to be with their parents. Even kids who had been smacked around some and who knew that was wrong...they still wished to be home. They were even willing to lie to cover stuff up so that their parents wouldn't get into trouble. They'd rather be home in the midst of all that craziness and wrongdoing than separated from their parents because that bond is just natural. Children are naturally bonded to their birthparents. Like, freakishly so. (However, it's not to say that they can't be bonded to anyone else, because they can. The first thing Little did this morning when he got up was to hug me and tell me that he loved me. <3)
It's hard not to go to the "bad place" when you think about the parents and the kids and stuff but I try to stay away from it. It's of no benefit to the kids if I'm envisioning punching out their parents everytime I see them! As much as I'd like to give the parents a piece of my mind...it's best to just smile and nod and encourage. Don't people say something about the hardest part of parenting is doing what's best for your kids?
I suggest everyone squeeze their kids extra tight today and remind them of how much you love them. Because, honestly, I don't think we can show them enough!!!!
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