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Anger and Honesty

So this week brought Sarah's therapist to have her last session with her. She had only seen her six or seven times and they hadn't gotten very far. 

She brought up the foster mom who struggled with the transition and mentioned that she's been touching base with her to help her figure out her role. I truly wish her peace but I've pretty well reached the point where I'm tired of hearing about it. 

This woman took every bit of her grief and pain out on me. I'm sorry. I'm a person with feelings too. She made it so much harder on us and the kids then it had to be. And I just am struggling with forgiving for that. Seriously, this was the hardest part of transitioning four kids into my home the week of Christmas: dealing with another foster parent. That shouldn't be the case.

I really hate having to take the high road sometimes. I really hate that I'm the one who often acquiesces in order to do the right thing and be the better person and keep things from exploding. For once I'd like to tell the person I'm trying to kill with kindness to go fly a kite. 

I spent a year in therapy talking about this very topic. I discovered I was really angry about being so easy going that no one bothered to ask me as "they knew I wouldn't mind" or "I didn't care about that kind of thing". Which deep down I really did mind and very much cared. But I was nice, helpful, thoughtful Foster Mom R so no one gave it a second thought to see if I'd want my own bridal shower or asked me if I'd mind postponing my college graduation celebration, even if I was the first to graduate from college in my family. Foster Mom R doesn't need birthday cake!

So when the therapist asked how this could be resolved amicably I decided I no longer was going to be empathetic or understanding. I was going to be honest with myself. I told her this woman hurt my feelings deeply and I was not really interested in trying to be her friend. I'm happy to continue allowing her contact with the kids but until she could recognize that she behaved badly towards me and could guarantee that it wouldn't happen again, I was done trying to accomplish an impossible task. 

I ignored the passive aggressive text I got about the kids calling this week. But I stewed about it. I hate that this person has taken up so much of my time. I'm trying so hard not to give her that power. 

But I am a good foster parent so I know the kids should keep contact with positive influences in their lives and should get to have a network of trusted adults. I have to to support that. It's in their best interest. Because even though she has made me the enemy, she is not mine. She is one of my kids' moms. That's an important role. No matter if I like the mom or not.


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It's a physical ache. A pain in the middle of my chest.  And it causes hot tears, the kind that sting my eyes.  It settled over me today and I couldn't shake it.

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