Long Overdue Update

Well hello there! It has been years since I've written and published a post and recently I've had the idea that maybe this year was the year to finally write the book everyone has been telling me I should write. And in an effort to brush off those skills, I thought a life update might be helpful.

Like many foster moms, the time for blogging got smaller and smaller as the kids got older.   I also began to consider if what I was sharing in my posts was truly mine to share or if it was theirs.  If you don't put it out there for public consumption, then you don't have to decide.  The kids and I have had some pretty lengthy discussions about that.  One day we hope to collaborate.  For now, I'll tread carefully. 

Last I shared, Gabby had moved into our home in July 2020 right as she was about to start college. She turned 22 this week and is in her last full semester of her senior year of college. She spent 6 week in Spain this past summer studying abroad! Her degree is in Spanish and her dream job is to be a translator in a school setting.  

Little Mama had guardianship of Mr. Mohawk through this past summer.  At that point, Maria had gotten out of the detention center and was able to have Mr. Mohawk live with her.  He's a junior in high school and now towers over me! LM is working as a CNA. We see them most holidays and LM makes it a point to come hang out with me and Gabby.  She is now 23 and has her own apartment. She's working on finding a better paying job so she can improve her circumstances.  

Jelly Bean is married and living in Georgia.  From what I understand, the circumstances aren't the best and she's struggling to find her way to a less chaotic life.  As Gabby and LM mature, they have put in place some pretty strong boundaries where their biological family is concerned and that sometimes includes not allowing Jelly Bean to complain about chaos she creates. 

I love having the Gabby, Little Mama, and Mr. Mohawk here. We've had such amazing conversations about their time in foster care.  Probably my biggest take away is that while they don't often remember the details, the way they felt is always present.  They will sometimes get upset about something and I'll point out that they used to feel that way when they lived with me, or they had a certain reaction to an event they don't recall and they are stunned. I've found this to be true of the Forever Four as well. 

Ahh, the Forever Four....plus Solana.

Stella is a Freshman in college! She basically knocked her Senior year out of the park and earned a bunch of awards and honors. She's taking full advantage of the DCFS scholarship available to kids who were adopted or aged out of care and has had to take out zero loans for school.  Here she is at her Senior Prom.

Sarah is now a Junior in high school.  She's a talented flute player and has a part time job at one of her favorite restaurants.  She's into make-up and fashion and will be starting a cosmetology program as part of her Senior year. 

Simon is now a Sophomore in high school.  He's also a talented musician, playing the trumpet and participating in Marching Band and Pep Band. He also has made some pretty awesome wood crafts in wood shop.  His current dream is to own his own Food Truck.  

Smiley is now a sullen teenager LOL. She still has a beautiful smile, its just hidden behind the hormones and annoyance. She's a Freshman in high school.  She also participated in Marching Band and Pep Band and we are waiting to find out if she will join her siblings in Wind Symphony next year. Her mood still dictates how the day is going to go and watching her come out of her shell this year has been exciting. Here she is trying to win "Pink Day" at Band Camp.

And last but not least, Solana. Solana is now 8 and in 3rd Grade.  I call her my shadow because she is never more than a few feet away.  She's is super creative, constantly drawing, modeling clay, or building structures out of boxes, pillows and blankets. She is still living with me full time! She's on the right, at her 1st Holy Communion Party.

As I type this, I realize that the update on SD and Sheila is also way overdue.  My relationships with them are in a really awesome and beautiful place, that has changed and grown over time. It is something that deserves its own post. 

Probably the biggest change is that my marriage has ended and hubby and I are in the process of divorcing after being separated for 2 years.  We were nesting for the first 18 months of that.  Nesting means we were sharing a house to minimize the disruption to the kids. The kids stayed in the marital home and we purchased a townhouse nearby and traded off weeks, one parent being in the house with the kids and the other parent at the townhouse, switching weekly after family therapy. 

We continued that arrangement until this past summer.  I've struggled with how much to write about the reasons why that stopped.  The most complete answer I feel I can give is that Hubby made a really bad choice, that lead to legal action and a protective order between him and one of the kids. The fall-out since the "incident" has been pretty continuous and effectively made me a single parent of 6 kids with fresh trauma. It's been a really hard road for all of us the past 8 months. 

That's why everyone keeps telling me to write a book. Or maybe that's just something people say to a Mom handling one major life crisis/event after another? 

I always thought I'd title my future book "Start with One" because that's what my Grandma said to me when I told her I was becoming a Foster Parent. But lately I've been toying with "And Then The Dog Died" because of course the emotional support puppy we adopted was going to have a fatal disease and we'd have to grieve him too....

So be on the look out for more posts. What do you want to hear about first? Drop a comment here or on Facebook and let me know! 

The Five Love Languages

When the Fab Four was going home I found my relationship with Hubby was in bad shape too. Neither of us was feeling very loved and so someone suggested I read the book The Five Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman. http://www.5lovelanguages.com

I was blown away by how much sense it made. The theory behind the book is that there are five basic languages that people  understand in terms of feeling loved. 1)Acts of service 2) Words of affirmation 3)Quality time 4) Gift Giving 5)Physical Touch.

At the beginning of a relationship people do all five but as you get into the relationship and you get comfortable you tend to relax and only "speak" your primary and secondary love language. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that the other person feels love because they may not "speak" the same love language.

Hubby and I are opposites in a lot of ways. We work because we compliment  each other's strengths. At the same time we come at most things from complete opposite directions which leads to conflict. So the idea that we were probably not feeling love the same way made a lot of sense to me.

My primary love language is words of affirmation which fits right into my personality which likes recognition. My secondary language is quality time. I found myself saying things like "you never spend time with me, you don't tell me how great I am" and his response was always "I should not have to. I show you I do."

His love languages are Acts of Service and Gift Giving. Clearly not the same as me. (I totally appreciate that Hubby does laundry but I'm kinda like-meh because that's not what love is to me. The key is recognizing that the other person is showing it in their own way and trying to provide love in a way the other person understands.)

The theory can be applied to most close relationships including your children. It struck me tonight that Simon is a blend of mine and Hubby's love languages. He loves to give and receive compliments and positive feedback and he loves nothing more than to be helpful. Tonight he happily sat on the floor ripping up cardboard boxes while chatting away about his achievements for the day, which gave me the opportunity to provide him with affirmative statements.

So as we were chatting away we talked a little bit about the meltdowns he had the day following the announcement that the papers didn't get signed at court.

I was mad Mom because I thought you were going to tell me the truth like you always do.

But I did tell you the truth.

But it wasn't like you said.

Oh you mean that I always do what I say I'm going to do.

Yeah! You and Dad always tell the truth.

I know honey. I really did think your Mom was going to do what she told us she was going to do.

Is it kind of like when she missed those meetings? It wasn't the right choice, it feels kind of like she lied.

These were conclusions he drew himself.  He trusts us to know that we are truthful with him and it felt like a lie when what we expected changed.

Let me tell you it was really hard not to say to him- yep. Your mother is a manipulative piece of work and I have no intention of givibg her the opportunity to hurt you ever again.

I responded with, I can see how you would feel that way, that must be hard. 

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I can't remember the last time I was this angry. (Maybe the time they denied permission for us to travel with the Fab Four. That was 2 years ago.) I was literally still shaking at 9pm after court. So tired of watching kids get hurt while the courts take their dear sweet time. 

And to add salt in the wounds we have the fall out happening. Sarah has wet her bed every single night and hid the pee sheets. Smiley had an epic day of tantrums this weekend. Stella has reverted to parentified behaviors.

I hate what this is doing to my kids. It's pointless. We need the courts to be looking out for the kids more than the parents. And no one who understands this has the energy to fight the system because they have been chewed up and spit out by the system.

The Mommy that Hangs the Moon

 I had an early morning meeting with Sarah's team at school to help figure out how to best approach the meltdowns she has been having when frustrated.  Thankfully, her therapist came and gave some really great background and tips for her teachers to use in the classroom.  All of them were willing and ready to do whatever they could to help her. I was pleased to learn that her classroom teacher was familiar with EMDR techniques and has worked with other kids in foster care. It was really great to hear the therapist discuss the progress the kids have made and reflect on the hard work we've been doing. 

Sarah had another rough evening, this time over her resent for Hubby being "not as good" as the presents her siblings made.  This was self imposed and definitely further expression of the grief she is feeling right now.  Earlier this week we had a tantrum that included phrases like:

You don't feel like a forever Mom.
This doesn't feel like a forever home.
I hate you.
You don't want me.

Big scary stuff for my petite little Sarah. Man oh man does she have some sass in her. 

So when Simon asked to read to me I was ready for some quality time.

He picked the book "My Mommy Hung the Moon, a Love Story" by Jamie Lee Curtis & Laura Cornell. I had never read the book. Its a beautifully illustrated story about the Mommy that does all these wonderful things.  It ends with My Mommy is good at everything.

And then I had a moment of insecurity.  Which Mommy was he thinking of when he read it.  Does he think I hang the Moon.  Is it Sheila? Is it both?

It was such a sweet moment the two of us on the floor, that I swallowed down those thoughts and praised him for doing such a good job reading the story.

Then he said, "My Mommy gave us this book."

So there was my answer. He was thinking of Sheila.

I smiled and said, "Well its a really great book.  Thank you for sharing it with me."

Inside, inside I was hurt. And angry.  Not at my sweet Simon.  He should believe his Mommy hangs the moon and can fix anything.  I was mad at Sheila for believing that she hangs the moon and buying the book.  (Yes, yes, books are good. Better than the usual stuff she gets them.) She doesn't chase away the monsters. I do that.  She doesn't make all the food, I do that.  She wouldn't have been able to participate in the meeting this morning because she hasn't bothered to learn about the kids' mental health issues, nor would she acknowledge that she is the cause of some of them. I did that.  She doesn't get to be idealized or get to re-write the history of neglect and the violence and abuse she exposed them to.

Yes she is his mother. He should feel love from her, I want that for him.  But it really irked me because it felt like she was making him choose or trying to re-enforce the idea that she is THE Mommy. I really felt like yelling - if you wanted to be the Mommy who hung the moon, then you should have fixed everything when you had the chance.

But that isn't quite fair.  She doesn't have the tools.  She can't BE that Mommy. And I get that, I really do.  But there are moments when that is a really hard concept for me.  Truth is, I want to be THE Mommy but I'm not either. He has two.
 

An Udate to Grief Too Big

This post written back in October, is one of the most read on the blog.  I wrote it after an incredibly hard night for Simon. 

The first time I sat down with the therapy team to learn the results of his trauma assessment I cried.  He scored in the 90th percentile for anxiety.  That meant if he was in a room of 100 kids, he was more worried than at least 90 of them. He was diagnosed with PTSD.  We were waiting to rule out an attachment disorder. It all sounded so hopeless.

He was fidgety. He had no idea how to ask for help with anything. His voice was barely audible. He cried a lot. Even if you hadn't said anything.  The rest of the time he had a fake smile plastered on his face. He couldn't tolerate a hug, it was visibly uncomfortable for him. He felt he was better than his sisters because he had a Bio Dad and they didn't.

If I'm being really honest, as I look back, I had a tough time coping.  I had no idea what to do with a kid I couldn't hug or soothe.  I had a hard time feeling connected to Simon. I felt like I was failing him.  I felt like I wasn't ever going to feel like he was mine.  As the walls came down, I could see he desperately wanted to be connected to me, just as I wanted to be connected to him.

So I made an effort to praise him.  Encourage him. Notice him. Tell him I needed him and that I missed him. I stood up for him when his sisters were talking over and for him.  (With 3 sisters its easy to lose your voice.) We bonded over his love of anything I put on a plate for him. In return, he thanks me every night for cooking. I proudly displayed his artwork. He got into giving us head rubs and back rubs as a way to care for us and control safe touch.

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Paper flowers Simon made me. Proudly displayed in an antique vase my Grandmother gifted me.

We've noticed he has made a lot of progress over the past year.  He can articulate his feelings and does so unprompted. Yesterday he waited a little while after Smiley got in trouble to come to me and ask:

"Mom, are you still mad? Because if you aren't, I was going to ask if you needed a hug."

Not only did he want to comfort me, he realized that I need some space when I'm upset.

Today he burst through the door when I picked him up from daycare:

"Mom you are going to be so happy! I have great news! Dad got picked to be my chaperone for my field trip!"

 Perhaps the biggest example of the connectedness is how he was feeling about visits with his Mom. Or rather, the lack of visits as the missed visit this past week will mean no visit until next month (8 weeks).  As his sisters cried their eyes out, he sat next to me just listening.  I mentioned to him that he seemed ok with the news that there wouldn't be a make-up visit.

"Sometimes I like staying home and spending extra time with you and Dad."

In my head I said,  "Aww, you are totally my favorite child today! Could you explain it to your sisters?"

I actually said, "And you can absolutely feel that way!"

Attachment will slide back and forth. I totally understand that.  We will go back to testing our attachment and commitment.  But this week this is where we are in our journey.  We are connected.  To each other. My creative, sweet, intelligent, messy little boy. I love you so!

 

 

Grief Too Big For My Little Guy

I've written about grief a lot in the past year.  Heck, I've written about grief pretty much the entire time this blog has existed. I still struggle to understand the best ways to cope and heal from it.  Currently, I am grappling with how to help my kids do the same thing.  It totally sucks. 

Everyone outside of Foster Care Land wants to paint this picture of foster care as beautiful and giving.  Yes, it is a good thing to have people who want to help kids and families.  Yes, those families are special. Yes, there is a tremendous need.  But the truth is that the day in and day out of foster care is messy and full of loss and its tough, tough stuff to deal with. And that's how it feels to be the adult in the situation.

Imagine being six. And really worried that everyone is going to forget you.  You watch everyone around you for signs that they are going to cut and run.  You wait for them to sit you down and tell you you're moving or your visit is cancelled. You wait for the scary noises that happened when you were little that cause you to jump.  You wait for the sounds of objects breaking.  You hope that this time when you tell the mom in the house you are hurt, she makes you feel better, heck you just hope she pays attention to you.

Then you have a really great day. You get to have a party at school wearing a costume that makes you feel amazing.  And your Foster Mom comes to the parade like she said she would.  And you get to go trick or treating with your Foster Dad and he makes sure you are safe in the street.  And everyone laughs. You feel so comfortable you fall asleep on the couch right next to Foster Dad.  Foster Mom comes to wake you up and help you up to your bed. And its really dark and you don't know where you are and suddenly, you don't want this mom next to you.  You want your Mommy. Not this Mom. 

And so you start to sob. And your words get stuck. And your Foster Mom looks desperately into your eyes asking you what is making you cry and you have no idea.  And the words won't come. And its dark. And the pain comes from nowhere.  And she's saying something about being safe and knows this must be hard but you don't understand.  Its confusing because you just feel sad and it hurts your heart so very much. And the tears spill over your cheeks. And you don't want to hurt Foster Mom because she is nice and helps you but you miss your Mommy. And you cry and cry while Foster Mom holds you and kisses your head until you fall asleep.

That's what foster care looks like this week.  Messy. Painful. Hard.

Simon, at six, is learning to grieve a giant loss that he will experience over and over throughout his lifetime.  This part is not beautiful. This part is awful and if I could absorb his pain I would.

 

Sometimes Its Really Just About Chips

Simon and I were in the kitchen. I was making dinner. He was putting away the dishes. He had just finished his phone call with his Bio Mom and he says to me, "Mom? Do you think we will be here next summer?"

So I stop what I'm doing and get down to his eye level. I can sense this is an important conversation and so I wanted him to know he had my undivided attention.

"Well Simon, that is up to the judge. But I can say I'm pretty sure that you will be here next summer. How do you feel about that? Is that okay with you?"

He answered, "Okay. Do you think next summer when I have field trips you can get the chips with the green stuff on them?"

Puzzled I asked,"The sour cream and onion kind?"

"Yeah! Those. Thanks Mom."

Simon

Simon turned six this week. Sheila (Bio Mom) is allowed a weekly call. It happened to fall on his birthday. Sheila didn't call. 

We had changed the day of calls to accommodate her* schedule, choosing a day she didn't work so that the timing of the call wouldn't be an issue as she had said the previous missed calls were because she didn't get her break at work. We discussed that if she knew ahead of time her schedule was going to change she could contact me to move the call. (*Never mind that I am working full time, commuting 40 minutes each way, and caring for four children.) 

Luckily, the kids are not aware that Sheila has a standing call. Sadly, Simon didn't seem to miss or think of his Mom on his birthday. He grinned the entire time we sang Happy Birthday at 6 AM. He was excited to bring treats to school and he really enjoyed the frosting that turned his mouth so blue it looked like he ate a Smurf.

Happy Birthday Simon. I'm so glad you have brought your energy to our lives. I know we will be forever changed, and my hope is so are you.