Living in Foster Parent Land

I had a conversation the other day that made me stop to think about the relationship I have with my biological children versus my foster children. I thought I would share those thoughts here as I have a few friends who have just entered "Foster Parent Land" or are training to be a part of this crazy roller coaster ride.

Please understand that I am writing this to prepare those friends for some emotions they would probably not have ever imagined and maybe will never experience. These are simply my experiences (as well as what I have heard from more seasoned foster parents).

Although we have been fostering for over a year we are still "newbies". We have had only 4 foster children in the house thus far. One is Iggy. He came home from the hospital at about 2 1/2 days old. He is now days away from being 14 months old. The next two were brothers who only stayed with us temporarily last summer. The fourth is 3 1/2 year old Eazy who has been here since December.

There is a big difference between my feelings for Iggy and Eazy. I care deeply for them both. If Eazy were to go home tomorrow I would be sad to see him go and would pray for his parents' success, but life would carry on quite seamlessly. If Iggy went home tomorrow I would mourn the loss deeply. But life would still have to carry on. Seamlessly or not.

As a foster parent there is a bit of a wall that goes up around your heart. It almost has to for you to survive the realities of the mission. In a "normal" family, there is no risk of one of your children being whisked away from you (even on those days you wish that they would be!), but your foster children can be. There is little to nothing you can do about it.

I kept that in mind for the first 7 or 8 months of Iggy's life and then I got a little too comfortable. When BioDad showed back up again when Iggy was around 11 months old, my heart almost stopped. Why was this man bothering me and MY baby? That's the trap to avoid. You have to love them as your own, but accept that they are not your own. That is where that small wall comes into play.

I have no wall with my biological children. I know that my days with them are not guaranteed, but I will love them with my whole heart as if they were. I can only assume, and those of you with adopted children can attest to this, that once/if the adoption decree is signed on the boys (one or both), that wall will instantly disolve and they will fall in line with my biological children. That is my hope.

There are also a couple things to prepare for when you bring home foster children. Others will treat them differently. Not on purpose or with mailce, but it will happen. Little newborn foster babies tend not to get baby showers or big "welcome home" celebrations. They are fawned over certainly, but no one wants to attack that big pink elephant in the room, "what if they go back?"

There are no "congratulations", just questions about their previous situation and what happens "next". Toddlers are pitied and older children are suspect. After all, they were taken from their previous environment. Something was wrong there and may be wrong with them, right? Nothing you do will squash any of this. You just have to hold them close and try not to hurt for them.

The most important thing I have learned in all of this is that it is absolutely NOT about me. Although my feelings, hurts, opinions and desires are real, this journey I am on is simply about them. How I serve them and make life easier and as normal as possible for them is what really matters.

What About The Little Ones?

Home schooling is something I have been led to do for a long time. Because K.Z. is the oldest he was the first guinea pig and we tried many combinations until we found the one I think we will stick with for a while. But it is a little intense and needs dedicated time. As education should.

Before Xena started school, K.Z was still in Kindergarten and 1st grade. We did "homeschool lite". Xena and C'sa played while we did school for the whole 1.5 to 2 hours and then that was it. We were not foster parents yet, so there were only three children at the time. Now both Xena and K.Z are in school, doing a more intense curriculum and we have three little ones hanging around. Except now it is not for just 1.5 to 2 hours that they have to entertain themselves.

In the morning we all start out together. C'sa (now 5), Eazy (3), and Iggy (14 months) hang out with us while we do history. By the time that is done, Iggy is down for a morning nap and C'sa and Eazy have wandered off. Xena and KZ still need Mom to hang around and help them with their lessons. Frankly, I feel as if I am tied to the table in the dining room where they do their lessons.

Fortunately C'sa is great at entertaining herself and she is also great at bossing Eazy around; and he is good at obeying her. So we have a win-win situation for them thus far. But I feel like they are on their own a little too much and I struggle at how I am to help all 5 at once. Eventually, Iggy's morning nap will end and I am not sure how to handle that new aspect.

I know that sooner than I expect, they will not all need me so much, but for now they do, and frankly I am at a loss. I do not want the little ones to feel like they do not get Momma time as I am helping the older ones. I do not want the older ones to stop and stare at the wall if I am taking a minute out on the younger kids (and they do), thus prolonging the day.

Next year when C'sa starts Kindergarten, I intend to give her one on one while the older kids play with the younger ones and then trade. I would LOVE your thoughts on balancing it all out with no one getting left out and feeling lost.

Back to the Land of the Living; I Think

Had I actually been blogging recently you would be aware of the fact that some funky, mindless, horrific, funk monster has invaded my world and infected my family. For two and a half long weeks. But because I am such a slacker you have been spared of all the nasty details.

Life now is almost back to normal. The "Queen Bee", uh... ME, was hit the hardest and was knocked on my "posterior" for a good two weeks. Needless to say everything, my brain included, has been running in slow motion.

Update on the foster front; nothing's new. That's it. Just what you have been waiting with baited breath to hear I am sure.

There is a small update, but as it has not yet happened, I have kind of pushed it back into a corner of my brain and have refused to marinate on it. In exactly 20 days Iggy's attorney and the County attorney will go before a Judge to petition to terminate parental rights on BioMom and BioDad. We are not invited to be there, but BioMom and BioDad will be there to defend their parental rights. After the hearing, assuming the County and Iggy's attorney are granted the termination, Iggy's bioparents have 30 days to appeal. Giving me more time to pace nervously. Okay, or maybe just eat too much chocolate. The pacing might be better for me...

Eazy's case is with the adoption unit, but frankly, you would never know it. Everything is staus quo even though, everything is status quo. I honestly feel though the Lord is letting us have the time we need to get to know Eazy without the pressure of an upcoming adoption. I just hope that things in his life do not drag on too long. This little man needs to be settled permanently.

So far that is the update from the Mr. Clean family. No news is, well... no news. I promise to try and be a bit more diligent with my blogging. And laundry. And dusting. And... aw, just forget it. See you soon!

In Desperate Need of Simplification

Our lives this past year have taken an amazing turn. We went from a family of 5 to a family of 7 in eleven months and completely complicated our family tree in a wonderful way; hopefully permanently.

Since becoming foster parents and adding two more to our crew I have felt seriously discombobulated. Bills have been left in piles to sort through and have gotten paid late. Things that I know I already own have been duplicated due to my slack in organization. Plans that I have had for implementing order in my home have been put on the back burner. I knew how to do all this when I only had three children (albeit never perfectly), I am apparently clueless with five.

So I have decided the only way to get back to some semblance of order is to start purging. Stuff, files, "friends" on Facebook and in my address book who are not really my friends nor have anything edifying to add to my life, and all those things I thought I may "need" in the future. I figure I need to clear out my brain as well as my house. Both seem a bit cluttered.

It has been a long time coming and I am excited to do it. If I can find my calendar I just might be able to pencil in a start date. Pray for my sanity!

Ouch...

Because my brain has been congested and feverish lately, I have no new thoughts of my own, but I was majorly convicted after reading this today. Enjoy a little Spurgeon...

If you really love him, it will not be a question of whether you shall do something, the only question will be, “What can I do?” and you will say in your pew this morning, “What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits toward me?” He has spared your lives, he has given you health and strength, provided you with spirituals and temporals, he has made your heart leap for joy at the sound of his name, he has plucked you out of the horrible pit and out of the miry clay, he has taken you out of the black bondage of the prince of darkness, and made you his sons and daughters; he has put the ring of his eternal love upon your finger, your feet are shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace.

“This world is yours, and worlds to come,
Earth is your lodge, and heaven your home.”

There is a crown for your head and a palm branch for your hand, and pavements of gold for your feet, and felicities for ever for your entire soul; and even your body is to be raised again from the dust and fashioned like unto Christ’s glorious body. “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for you.” Now what will you do for him?

From a sermon entitled "The Waterer Watered," by Charles Spurgeon delivered April 23, 1865.

What A Blessing You Have Been...

Seven years ago, a large scrunchy looking creature was born. She was big (10 lbs. 11 oz.), bright red with black hair and resembled a small sumo wrestler. I fell hopelessly in love. This is that creature more recently. An amazing, beautiful and sweet girl. I am still hopelessly in love.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl!

Perfect Imperfection

Last week we had a "snow event". It could have been great as we got about 4-6 inches, but they were quickly followed by sleet and freezing rain, making our fluffy white snow into about 2 compressed inches of ice. Then it melted a bit and became ice covered slush. That night it refroze.

I was driving home the other day at dusk the next day, and as I entered the neighborhood I marveled at the scene. The sun was reflecting off of the glassy snow in the front yards of the houses I passed. Some were sheer perfection, not a single foot print marred the snow, making it look as smooth as smooth could be. Some houses had a yard full of a choppy mess, jagged edges of ice were left where children had obviously tread. These yards had evidence of fun stomped all through them. They told a story with every step. You can guess which yard my own house sported.

I can be ridiculously obsessive about my house. You'd never know it if you walked inside, but in my head there are no hand prints on the walls, scuffs on the floors nor dirt on the carpets. In my reality, I have an abundance of each. I have been in houses just like the one in my head; shiny kitchen floors and counters, perfectly painted molding and door jambs and carpeting in which each fiber stands at attention. I marveled at them, envied the cleanliness, but there was always something missing. A story. I can never read the story of that particular family.

My house is laden with stories. Start with the front yard. It is a choppy mess of ice and snow as 4 out of our 5 kids have stomped hundreds of times through it. There is a blue plastic baseball bat buried somewhere in the snow that was not rescued beforehand. On the porch is evidence of an unnamed child's artwork with crayon (they thought it was sidewalk chalk, not sure how that mistake was made) that we only managed to get half scrubbed away before other projects took precedence. Our front door really needs to be sanded down and freshened with new paint.

Entering our house you will immediately see a pair of snow boots laying inches from the coat closet in which they should reside. Another pair is standing neatly by the grandmother clock, mere feet from the closet. In the living room (that is really our office) is a lone Cinderella doll laying on the couch. She has only one shoe, so I can only surmise that she had a rough journey to this resting point. The dining room table is heavy with school books, crayons, pencils and glue sticks. A paper butterfly, compliments of Chick Fil-A has also landed on the table.

Venturing into the kitchen there are three boxes of cereal still sitting on the kitchen table from breakfast and an abandoned cereal bowl. The sink sports dishes waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher that is waiting to be emptied. Beyond the kitchen is the family room where folded laundry is stacked on the back of the couch and the floor is strewn with yesterday's toys. A chewed pair of 3-D glasses from last night's Super Bowl commercials sits atop the dogs' kennel, complete with Iggy's teeth marks.

I will spare you the view upstairs.

I suppose I would rather live in a house that has a treacherous ice field in the front and cereal bowls in the sink than live without the 5 tornadoes that left the chaos in the first place. My house definitely tells multiple stories. But I still dream about shiny kitchen floors and counters, perfectly painted molding and door jambs and carpeting in which each fiber stands at attention.

This Year's Best

I was a little disappointed with this year's Super Bowl commercials. Then again, with a price tag of 3 million, who could afford to pay for the spot and then make a "slam dunk" commercial? But one did stand out, and although it was not the commercial I mentioned Friday, it was still a winner. And funny...

Are We Really Surprised?

This ad was contracted to be shown during the Super Bowl. Then NBC pulled it. I simply cannot even imagine why (enter deep sarcasm and rolling of eyes here)*. Yet we will get to see commercials we will have to censor for our children.

I thought this was powerful...

*In the interest of fairness, NBC and NFL representatives state that the ad was pulled because they say they have a policy against "issue ads". They have the right to do so. I still think it is a great commercial.

Kindred Spirits

During the Christmas holiday my Father, Stepmom and two brothers came for a few days. It was bliss and I actually cried when they left, as our opportunities to see them are too few and far between.

Something neat happened when they were here however. Eazy found his "Grandpa". Since coming to our house Eazy has met various family members and has been polite and warm to all of them, but from the minute my father arrived for Eazy's first meeting, Eazy was ecstatic.

We were in an upstairs bedroom when my parents pulled up. Being silly and knowing that they could not hear us, I told Eazy that we should wave and say, "Hi". So we did. At that exact moment, my father looked up and spotted us in the window. Eazy happily exclaimed, "He heard me! He heard me!"

A little concerned about how he would feel with meeting four new people all at once, I asked him if we should go down and say hello. He bolted for the stairs and hit the door at the same time my parents did.

"Hi! I am big, tall Eazy!" he said to my Dad and instantly embraced him. He was just as excited to meet my stepmother and brothers.

For the next four days Eazy rarely left my father's side. He held hands with my dad when we went to a museum, was upset when my Dad did not go into the "Children's Room" at the museum, sat on his lap anytime my father sat down and wanted "Grandpa" to help him with whatever was urgent at the moment. It was the sweetest thing I had ever seen.

Eazy is a shy little boy. The six weeks or so that he has been here has opened him up quite a bit, but he still has a bit of a wall around him. Normally you have to invite him to sit with you and offer a hand for him to hold. My father was able to step right over that wall in an amazing way.

I have decided that these two are kindred spirits. Both had their world torn apart and were put into the care of "the County". Both were unable to live with their mothers and had a hard time understanding why. Both had to build a wall at a tender young age to survive reality.

My father was in foster care for 6 years of his life (from 8 until 14), and will tell you that it was the best thing for him. He had great foster parents and did very well with them. He grew to be a wonderful man. Despite this however, he was taken from 5 of his 8 siblings (three were with him in his foster home), not allowed to live with his family and suffered the indignity of being in a "welfare home". He knows Eazy's plight better than anyone. Eazy seemed to know that as well.

Eazy has found his Grandpa, and I could not be more overwhelmed with gratitude and amazement at how the Lord will use an unfamiliar face to enrich a little boy's life.

Will Angel Get Her Groove Back?

I have lost my groove. Not like Stella's groove, which I honestly can no longer define for you as it has been way too long since I have seen that movie, but my own personal groove. I am not sure where it went.

I had a routine once upon a time that worked pretty well. It needed tweaked a bit here and there, but for the most part, it helped my household run well. The routine has left the building. I can't quite put a finger on it, but frankly I have lost all ambition. I recently read a friend's blog where she talked about vacuuming before her favorite show came on. I chuckled. I vacuumed last week. One room. Then I was done. The vacuum is still sitting in said room hoping to continue its journey.

The one room that I had perfected and vacuumed has now re-exploded (because I erroneously let my children step foot into it) and despite my chagrin about the way it looked last week verses the way it looks now, I have done nothing to rectify the situation.

How do you get your groove back? Frankly I would love to have a touch of OCD when it comes to the laundry. And vacuuming. And dusting. Stella got her groove back. Will Angel?

36 Years Later...

No, it has not been 36 years since I have updated my blog (almost); although I cannot believe I have not logged on in three weeks.

It has been 36 years since the Roe vs. Wade court case in the United States, which legalized abortion. I need not say much more as Americans are passionate about this landmark ruling, one way or the other and know all the ins and outs of the debate.

I am passionately against it. Every year while I lived in the D.C. area I would head down in the bitter January cold for The March For Life. This is not something I try and push in people's faces, but I abhor abortion. In any case. Simply because it kills a life.

It hits a little closer to home this year as I think about my children. I would have never aborted my biological children of course, but what if the biological mothers of my foster sons had chosen this route? Little precious Iggy would have died and never had known just how much he was wanted, loved and adored. Eazy (3 1/2 year old foster son) would have never been able to take such joy out of the simple things he sees from his big, brown, doe-like eyes.

These two boys were once tiny specks in their mothers' wombs. Their hearts started to beat at 21 days. Probably long before their mothers knew they even existed. They were perfectly and wonderfully made by their Creator from the start. And their lives could have been snuffed out by a simple request. We would have never gotten the honor to serve these boys and love them as long as they may have needed us.

Today I think about how thankful I am that while their mothers may not be the best for them right now, and could have easily legally killed these sweet boys, they chose to give them life. And for that I am eternally grateful.

I Know Something You Don't Know....

This newscaster does not know this Canadian family's name, but I DO!!! And they are a great family! Have a laugh at this...

Stay tuned America. Inside Edition called him too!