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Showing posts from September, 2011

The Notebook

So our CW suggested the moms of the kids start a notebook to help make communication more constant. I had flash back to junior high where my friends and I would pass a notebook back and forth. Let me tell you not much good came of these. One week into the notebook I'm already starting to feel this way. But hey I'm being asked to do it to help the kids so I will.

There is just one teeny tiny problem. Mom doesn't really speak English and she does not have much of a formal education in Spanish. I am not fluent in Spanish. I took it through junior year of college and despite brushing up on it I'm still pretty rusty. I started the notebook at our court date 2 weeks ago. I nicely wrote out the family rules and wrote several paragraphs in Spanish. The case worker was impressed but Mom asked me to print because she can't read cursive. The idea was for her to take it home and write questions in the notebook. The notebook was supposed to come back with the visit supervisor.

A …

She Yelled?!?

I have some thoughts to put down about the legal aspect of the case but I want to blog those from a real computer and not my iPhone. Since it's 6:30am on a Saturday I only have a few minutes since there is a reason I am up at this unsightly hour for the second day in a row. Apple picking today and friends coming over afterwards to watch the Bears beat the Packers and my house is not exactly in a state of clean.

Clean is the wrong word. Organized. But I have 4 children in a 2 bedroom/loft townhouse so really you can expect much but the clutter is driving me and the kids bonkers. So yesterday we cleaned and cleaned but still aren't 100% back to what my house looked like before it's occupancy tripled but we are close.

I got up yesterday to wake the kids so they could go to their visit which switched from Friday nights to Saturday mornings. Of course this was not a welcome change by them and they grumbled about it and came home saying their visit was awful. JB barometer for th…

Over the Edge

I joke with the kids Tuesday therapists (two of them come to the house) that one day I'm going to write a book about this experience and I come up with new titles for this book all the time. This week I named it Pushed Over the Edge. Because this is how I feel. In the last week or two I have been pushed, poked, pulled, and pinned to the edge of reason, patience, common sense and my limit.

I have been asked to go against every hope and wish in my heart and help the woman who hurt these kids that call me Mom in order to HELP her get them back. And I did what was asked of me. And then I turned around and listened to one of the very same children accuse me of not caring or loving them for 8 hours as she tantrumed and acted out, threw things, and bruised her sister. Then I woke up and did it the next day. And while all I wanted to do was cry I instead laughed about it.

The Tuesday therapists asked for a shout out in my book. Anonymous of course. I told them I'd call them Night and D…

You know what they say about all therapists?

That they need their own therapist. Which makes me wonder what that means for foster moms with chronic illness and a psychology degree. For me it means I have 5 therapists in my life. My own. JB's therapist, LM & Gabby's therapist, LM & Gabby's trauma therapist, and the new family therapist. It means that I am CONSTANTLY talking about feelings and techniques and trying to analyze and figure out where feelings are coming from. It means that at every turn we stop and talk about the feelings even if its in the middle of Target.

Which was the case the day before school started. We finished getting the last of the supplies and sat down to eat at the Pizza Hut in the food court at Target. School starting was/is a big trigger for my kids. It is their big obvious marker of time (even though they came into care at the end of June). And it finally dawned on them that "oh hey I've been in foster care a year. My Mom said she only gets 2 years and that doesn'…