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....
Thursday, April 28, 2011
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 :)
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