I Apologize for Disappearing

I'm sorry everyone for disappearing. It's been a long time since I've posted.  I'm still here. I've posted a few things on Facebook but that isn't really blogging.

I started posts (I have 3 drafts in my saved files) but "The Universe" has been busy reminding me that I am not actually superwoman and so said posts did not get finished or published. And to be honest, (that's why you read my blog, right? For the honesty?), I just didn't feel like sharing all the crappy things I was feeling.

I often use this blog to process and work through my feelings but my feelings were SO BIG and I was SO STUCK that I just couldn't write. Or think. And I really, really didn't have time to do either. And I REALLY didn't want to think about foster care. Or trauma. It was all I could do to keep it together so that my kids did not freak out, and so that my marriage did not implode on me.

Do you have those days? Weeks? Months? Where you feel like you are barely going to make it and really don't have time for the nervous breakdown you deserve? Of course you do! We all do. I just didn't feel like putting it all on display in real time.

About three weeks before my final grad school thesis paper was due, during an uptick at my full time day job, and a week before we left on a week long road trip, Hubby felt he needed to quit his job. Leaving me as the sole income for a family of 7 about to go on a vacation with hours and hours of writing and research to finish. Oh and I had started my side gig selling fabulous bags in order to get the discount but ended up with actual customers and a team member. The timing was awful. The decision was stunning. The words between us angry and mean and then, not many at all.

The fear and the worry and the triggers about money were overwhelming to me. The man I had shared my life with for the past 15 years seemed like a total stranger. And the deadline for my degree program and the to do list for the trip weighed on me like an elephant. But that's my side.

Hubby would tell you he just couldn't walk into the office and feel the anger, disrespect, frustration, and stress any longer. He would tell you I wasn't listening. He would tell you he gave it his all and that our savings would mean we were okay financially.

We were both right. And none of it had to do with foster care or trauma. Except how we reacted because if I've learned anything in these past 6 years, its that how we react is how the kids react.  And this whole situation filled with worry, anger, and unknowns was, of course, the perfect recipe to send my children spiraling down into a pit of trauma-related behavior. I like to avoid that when I can so here was Foster Mom R with what felt like all Hell breaking loose around her and I had to remain calm enough not to set my kids off.

So that is where I was. Sad. Lonely. Scared.

It's been a few months and we have managed to come out relatively unscathed. Sarah had a few bumps as did Smiley. We had a case of sticky fingers that brought the police to our front door. We've had some emails about meltdowns at school. I had some less than stellar moments where I've forgotten all of my therapeutic parenting skills and had to do some major repairs.  There were a few events that were glaring examples of how much trauma still affects our lives and of course those weren't much fun. But somehow we managed to keep it together and keep moving forward which is always my goal.

The trip was a success, Hubby found a new job and I finished school. I took a few weeks to re-focus on me.  I made it a point to do some hands on projects to help me connect to the parts of myself that I miss.

Then Hubby and I took a vacation just the two of us.  It had been long planned, prepaid, and much looked forward to.  I was literally out of the country and able to unplug and decompress fully.  It's probably the most relaxed I've ever been in my adult life. I am so grateful that my Mom can watch our children while we take a trip like that because if we hadn't gone, I don't know that I would have gotten back to "normal". Its easy to forget that my sanity matters just as much as the healing that my kids need.

I'm hoping to take some time this summer to blog about some of the things we've been up to.  With Solana's foster case closing we've officially entered into a new season of our foster care journey.  We are taking a break from any placements for a while.  Solana is still spending weekends with us so we still have a very active toddler on our hands.

January 1, 2017 - A Letter to Solana

Dear Solana,

Today you and I had time just by ourselves.  Just you and I.  Its such a rare occurrence given that I'm the Mom in a house with 5 kids, a Dad and a dog. This was more than our 15 minutes alone in the car together where you either fall asleep or scream your head off.  We played. We ate lunch together. We snuggled. And I got to whisper to you "I love you" over and over again. I told you how smart you are. I told you that I was proud to be your "Mama" and you pointed to me and repeated "Mama" and then I said "Solana" and you pointed to yourself. And then you gave me a kiss and squealed in delight. And inhaled your sent, the baby detergent and the fine curls on your neck and I tried to burn the memory of how you felt in my arms deep into my brain.

This New Years Day marks time for us.  Time that will fly by. A blip in your life, really, but likely a turning point in mine. In 30 days you will officially cease to be my responsibility and Caseworker #4 will come for their last visit with us and take you to live with your Daddy.  I know your Daddy loves you and that you will be safe.  I know that he will continue to let us see you and that you won't know anything has happened because you will live at his house and at ours.  But that visit means you won't be our daughter and you will become the baby that we had to let go. The baby we never thought we wanted and had no idea that we needed. You completed our family in ways that I never could have imagined and its hard not to fear what a big gaping hole we might be left with.

But you were worth every moment. They will ask me how we could say goodbye? And I will say because she was worth it. Knowing that you will always know what a loving family felt like, what comforting touch and kisses were, that you flourished in a safe home, will be worth any amount of pain I feel about you leaving. They will ask "Didn't you get attached." And I will say, "Yes, that's what she needed. And I would do it again. I would crawl through glass to make sure she had the proper attachment." And they will say things like "I don't know how you do it" or "I could never do it" and I will simply shrug because you gave us such a gift, I can't imagine not doing it.

I didn't know we needed a baby. I had no idea how quickly love could come into my heart. I didn't know it was possible to love Daddy more until I heard him singing about turkeys while changing your diaper on that first day. I had no idea how helpful seeing a baby crying and parents caring for that baby would be to your siblings piece together unconditional love or at the very least, trust in parents who signed up for forever.  I didn't know I could find joy in something as simple as watching you experience music. Even as you leave us, you are still teaching us to be better versions of ourselves, freer in our emotions and feelings, and generous in our compassion.  It's been a privileged to be your Mama and its a privilege to be a part of your Daddy's support network. Only a special girl like you could make such a difference in so many people's lives.

You are destined for great things my little one. Great things.

All my love sweet pea,

Mommy R

Mother of the Year.

As I mentioned on Facebook, Monday was a rough night. It was my fault because I wasn't staying patient. Wasn't being therapeutic and was definitely PMSing. It was ugly. I, was ugly. 

I admit that because I'm not perfect. I think its a helpful reminder to read about other's admissions of imperfection, especially during the holidays when everyone is wearing matching sweaters, building insanely cute gingerbread houses, and sharing pictures of holiday gatherings.

Not us.

Nope.

I screamed. I yelled. I swore. 

And I didn't want to be near my kids. And they weren't really even the reason I was feeling out of sorts. Sure I was mad that once again a bowl of milk was left sitting on a table all day and that no one did the dishes or took out the garbage or fed the dog. But if I were being really honest, I was just really beat down by the stress of work, school, and foster care. And I was dreading my period and the disappointment that would come with it, after opening another Christmas Card announcing someone else's pregnancy. Because with the turn of the calendar my baby is leaving. And I'm not pregnant with a baby who can't leave because I am their mother.

All of those complex feelings swirling around and no real outlet to place them wasn't a good thing.

But I repaired. I apologized. I told them I loved them even if I was disappointed. I told them that it was okay if there were disappointed in me. And I ended with tomorrow is a new day and a fresh start.

And it was. 

We headed to a friend's bar to watch the Blackhawks win. They happily ate quesadillas bigger than their heads. We cheered and danced and just spent time together.

We took advantage of no homework tonight and watched Fuller House as a family.  At some point Sarah realized that Solana wasn't home.  I reminded her she was on her visits until Friday and she broke down. "When she moves, will we ever see her again?" 

"Yes. Yes, we will." And the confidence I had in that statement reassured my daughter who has probably been working up the nerve to ask that question for weeks. I reminded her it was okay to be sad and then she got a hug and went back to her night. 

Also I totally ordered pizza and let my kids eat in front of the television. There. Hope that makes someone feel better about themselves!

Bedtime

Solana, the happiest baby on Earth has decided that the terrible twos will actually start at the age of 1. She is stubborn, independent, and loud. Really loud. 

She's always had this fake scream that sounds alarming unless you knew it was fake which she uses often when she is displeased. However, her latest thing is to throw full on tantrums. Screaming, crying, hitting. She's quite the frustrated drama queen. When she is really mad she will bite you and then scream "De-De-de-de-de!". Clearly telling you to go take a flying leap. Bedtime has become challenging. My sweet little baby who would go down without so much as a peep, threw a full on tantrum on the stairs when I told everyone to say goodnight to her. An hour and a half ago.

During this rough night I had her rocking in my arms, quieted down but still whimpering from being upset. She was clutching my shirt, my bra, for dear life. As I kissed her tears, mine started to fall.

I whispered to her "I'm not your forever mama. I'm just temporary. One day it will be someone else putting you to sleep.You will have to learn to fall asleep in another home so please let's get through this phase because you have been here 75% of your life and if this is how you react to the familiar, I'm afraid the unfamiliar will be too much for your Papi."

And then my head wandered to the dark place where I wished that maybe she would react this way and he would decided this was too hard and call me up to come get her, forever. And then I felt immediately guilty and selfish and I started to cry harder because how could I wish such obvious misery and pain on my beautiful baby girl Solana. 

Fab Four

At the beginning of December I stumbled across a fabulous coat sale at Macy's So I bought my kiddos coats and also some for the Fab Four as well. I haven't seen them since July but we have Facebooked and texted here and there. So I totally guessed at the sizes. 

The weekend I had planned to give them the coats we were supposed to go to the indoor Waterpark with them. Then Solana came, all of us were sick and it just seemed to hard to make it happen. So the coats sat here because the Fab Four live an 1 1/2 away now and it's too hard to get out there with 5 kids and all the other stuff we have going on. 

We had had a pretty mild winter so far but the temps in Chicago dropped way down this weekend and I wanted to get the coats to the kids. Hubby volunteered to bring them out there and we face timed for a good 20 minutes. 

Jelly Bean and Gabby had the most to say. I actually haven't seen Jelly Bean since June and she has hit puberty which was a little shocking for me. She is in 6th grade now and seems to be doing well. She mentioned her and Gabby are getting along better (they are now in the same school) but that she doesn't have any really good friends at school. (This doesn't surprise me. Jelly Bean has a hard time with her emotions and social appropriateness.) She of course asked to see Solana because she loves babies .

Gabby told me she quit band. She's got solid Bs so far for 8th grade and she chopped her hair off. She shared that they are moving to a rented house next month and she's worried about making new friends. 

Mr. Mohawk was actually more interested in talking than normal. He of course asked to see the dog even though he didn't remember the dog's name. He spent some time showing me some things and spoke about school. When I said goodbye and told him Ioved and I missed him, he shrugged and said "goodbye".

I have to say, that moment was a little hard as I've watched my own kids do the same thing to Sheila. He doesn't remember me as his Mom. He has no connection to me, other than through his sisters, and therefore he doesn't love or miss me. I suppose I feel grateful that he doesn't remember foster care but the part of me that stayed up with him through nightmares, and stomach flu and wiped his chocolate frosting smears off the walls misses that little boy. Of course, that little boy no longer exists either. It's a very odd thing.

Little Mama did have much to say. She said hi and then went to her room. Which I suppose is normal for a teenager. 

Hubby called on the way home. He was very upset and crying. (He doesn't not cry. My grandmother's funeral, when the kids left, and the few times we've seriously discussed divorced are pretty much it.) I normally don't share his feelings (because they are his) but I think this illustrates how hard this can be. We talked about why he was so upset. He said he felt distant while there. He said he didn't know if it was like that because they have moved on without us or if it was where they have moved on to. The life they lead is very different from ours and it reminded him that the dreams we dreamt for them while they were "ours" are not the dreams we hold for them now.

Maria is doing as well as she can and is hoping to move to a rented house next month. She dreams of buying it which is amazing and so far from where she was 2 years ago. But it means a school change for the kids and further from her support network and that could be hard on the family and their stability.

I pointed out its been almost 6 months since we've seen them and the last time it was in the role as "parent". I also pointed out that seeing them may have ripped off the bandaid covering the grief of their leaving and with Solana having a return home goal, that some of the fear about her leaving was probably bubbling to the surface.

Everyone always says, "I don't know how you can say goodbye. It would be so hard." And the truth is, it is. And it continues to be. We made the best of it and when they went home our biggest fear was they would disappear and we wouldn't know where they were in the world. I think it's hard to see them now because they have, to some degree, disappeared. The children who lived with us only exist in our hearts. In the photos that captured those moments. Now we can only standby and watch.

The idea that we may have to have this same experience with Solona is terrifying. I cannot begin to explain how quickly and completely I loved her the minute she was placed in my arms. And the same goes for Hubby, who never, ever wanted a baby. I think it shocked him, actually and I think the possibility that one day we will have to hand her over and then pick ourselves up really scares him too. 

So we cried together on the phone trying to understand these emotions that come out of nowhere. These are emotions no one ever talks about in the training. This is what after the goodbye is like. It still fucking sucks. Not as much as not knowing anything at all, but it still sucks.

I HATE the not knowing part of foster care and we thrusted ourselves right back into it. We spoke with the therapist at length about this, this week. She said we have to do what's best for Solana. And what's best is to be all in so that her attachment to caregivers is healthy and strong. And I have thrown my whole self into it. It came so much easier than it did when the kids came to live with us. But here is my deep dark secret: what if she goes home and I get knocked down so hard, I can't get back up? The therapist told me not to "borrow trouble" which was excellent advice. However, we were so broken when the Fab Four left and this time it's not just Hubby and me. 

I know our reasoning was sound and I have faith it's all going to be ok because we've come this far. But if I'm being really honest, these thoughts have been weighing on me and seeing the Fab Four brought them out in the open. 

Loss

I finished reading the kids' adoption subsidy packets and flipped over to Facebook to vent about it. In my feed was a post from a friend of mine that is going to the hospital tomorrow to have their baby who has a genetic disorder and will not survive very long after he is born. I'm so sad for their family. And it makes me even angrier that people are able to have multiple babies that they neglect and abuse. My Mama Bear is roaring under the surface. So wrong. So unfair. 

Will you say a prayer for my friends? Their entire family is about to go through a loss that many of us understand all to well. Pray they get supported through this and have space to talk/or not talk about the loss of their son. 

My Dearest Stella

The other night we were talking about college and you were asking about schools for singing. I said "but I just got you here, I'm not going to rush you to leave for college" and you responded, "I know."

Oh I hope you do. I hope you know how much I cherish whatever years we have with you here at home because they don't seem to be enough. I feel like we were cheated. I weep for the little girl who spent so much time in an uncertain place with scary people and sub-par care. 

But I cheer for all that you have achieved inspite of those experiences. My helpful, kind girl, with an imagination and slow, sure smile. Though you be little, you are mighty.  You are brave and courageous.  You jump at the chance for new experiences and I love that about you.  I love you.

Mommy

Am I Really?

I had Sarah's 504 plan meeting last week. It was the annual meeting to qualify her for classroom supports based on her PTSD diagnosis since it had affected her in class. (Which Caseworker #4 actually said he was "surprised it was necessary for her to have a 504 plan"....let me clue you in- don't say sh*t like that.)

Her amazing therapist came and reminded everyone just how far my kid had come. Somewhere along the way I missed actually hearing her diagnosis of Reactive Attachment Disorder but it's in a report somewhere. While she has basically fallen off that spectrum (not exhibiting signs) her therapist reminded us that we must keep working with her as if she still had RAD as to not backslide in our progress.

When the meeting concluded the very well meaning staff applauded our family for being a foster family and adopting. It was the usual - you are amazing/the kids are so lucky.

And as I got in the car I thought, am I that amazing?  I was 5 minutes late to the meeting. I had no idea what my kids wore to school as I was in the shower when they left. I assume they ate breakfast.....And then again later that night when I blew up at my kids. Totally lost my cool at being asked about a snack before dinner (because hello I was a neglected kid and didn't always know where food was coming from). Then resented that I have to be so very careful all the time because of all the hurt caused by others. And then of course there was the adorable pregnancy announcement from a sibling and a baby shower thank you card that came in the mail today. 

Yeah. I'm a real wonderment. Sobbing in my room because I feel guilty for wishing that this was an easier road while also knowing that there is no such thing.

What qualifies people to tell strangers they are amazing parents? I could be total crap. 

Stella

My Mom took Stella and Smiley shopping for pants yesterday. They came home with some cute things and as my Mom laid the items out in the couch to show me, I was struck with an unbelievable sadness and yearning.

The jeans looked so big.

A reminder that the kids grow a little more every day and I feel like I missed so much of Stella's childhood. I feel like she missed her own childhood and I started to cry. She is going to be 11 soon and I just feel like we got short changed. 

Anatomy of Termination

I'm not sure where to begin. We arrived in court with my Mom in tow. We were told Bio Dad wasn't coming and that Sheila was still saying she would sign the surrender. She found us in the hallway and invited us to sit with her and the caseworker. 

She said she was really glad we came. We were finally called in 2 hours 20 minutes after the call time. The special prosecutor looked nervous and like she had no clue about what was going on. The attorney for DCFS was super annoyed with her and kept correcting her and the GAL for CASA was basically mite until the last few minutes in the court room.

While we were waiting for the judge to get to everything, Sheila started to cry as she had just finished signing the surrender. I couldn't help myself. I reached my arm around her to comfort her. The words "you have to treat her like one of the kids in your home" echoing in my head. It was really, really sad.

The judge called her to the front and made sure 8 different ways that she knew what she was doing by signing the identified surrender. The paperwork names Hubby and I and if for some reason we don't adopt the kids her rights are reinstated, but only in some specific instances. If we divorce I can still adopt the kids and if one of us dies the other can still adopt.

It was incredibly sad to watch as it seemed like way too much repeatition about "this is irrevocable and final". And since there were 4 kids, 4 sets of papers were signed and the judge had to go through each of them. She was crying, her attorney was trying not to cry. The judge commended her for her decision and told her it showed she loves her kids.

I couldn't believe it was actually happening. She returned to sit beside me- I asked if she wanted a hug she told me no and I handed her the card we had gotten for her the last time we had court. 

Her attorney told her she could stay but she didn't have to. And the court proceeded to the TPR trial for the dads.  If it was my kids' permanency at stake I might have laughed at the incompetency of the attorneys sitting in front of me.. I swear it was the special prosecutor's first day. She kept mixing up the names of the fathers and the kids. Her questions didn't make sense, the DCFS attorney kept telling her to stop her line of questioning. At one point when asking the casework to give testimony about Bio Dad's fitness as a parent, she asked how often visits were. She answered weekly and the attorney moves on, never asking how many he actually showed for, which would have been 1/2.

It was at that point that Sheila left. And I watched on the edge of my seat to see if the minimal argument the state made about Dad not competing any service plans was going to be enough. His attorney said, obviously he cares some he sent gifts and visited (but it's kind of hard to argue if the guy never showed up and wasn't standing there). DCFS argued gifts and concern don't make a parent and I said "amen" under my breath.

It was enough to TPR and while he has the righ to appeal, I doubt that he will.  But I couldn't believe how unprofessional the prosecutor seemed and I wanted to give her an impassioned- there are lives hanging in the balance if you screw up, but I didn't.

They terminated on all the dads and held the best interest hearing (a seperate step to ensure that the adoption is the right thing for the kids) and that was ruled in their best interest. Then we had the shortest permanency hearing ever it went like this:

DCFS attorney: Can we go ahead and change the permanency goal to adoption

Judge: Yes lets do that. It is so ordered.

Then the DCFS attorney got all huffy when the GAL finally spoke up and asked for his motion that the therapy team be given the authority and discretion to decide what visits with Mom and Baby should be going forward. The DCFS attorney was all we have policies and I don't think the court should dive that deep and of course we will look at their best interest and the judge said: I've had this case 10 years, I'm going to take a little leeway and I remember when the kids started seeing the therapists and I believe they have made unbelievable progress and I defer to them to keep the kids going in the same direction. Quite frankly, I see their point and it makes a lot of sense to me.

If I could have hugged her, I would have. So the therapists have to recommend further visits and DCFS can't force the visits without the therapists being on board.

A permanency hearing was set for next February and we were free to go.

That part was somewhat anticlimactic. This huge monumental change so long in the making and we just walked into the hallway.

My Mom was there and I started to tear up, I said the goal is adoption and she hugged me. She said, it's been such a long journey, five years, and you are that much closer.

**********

We planned a movie for the kids. I picked them up from camp and we had a family meeting. We told them we went to court, they asked if their Mom signed, we confirmed and they cheered. We also told them about their baby sister and that the baby was not living with Mom. Stella asked why couldn't her Mom just give the baby to us and Sarah got angry that her Mom is trying to work the case plan. (That whole thing is a sticky wicket. You want the kid to feel better and tell her it's not likely her Mom will get there but you also don't want to bash her Mom either. Plus you want her not to be jealous of a baby.)

And then we went to the movies and we were all relaxed. We had some time to wait outside for the theater to be ready. Simon was studying the below movie poster. He said: "Mom, is that movie about Foster care? Because that's how I feel. I was lost and now I'm found. Adoption feels like being found."

Amen, my sweet, sweet boy, amen.

If you would, take a moment and pray for Sheila. Her heart is hurting and she doesn't have anyone to share this hurt with. For as much as this is the right thing, she's a lot like my kids and they are a part of her and I hope she can find a way to heal.

I Am Not A Cabbage

We met this week with the therapy team. They had a conference call with Sheila to discuss what the kids need to hear at their last planned visit in order to be able to continue to fully attach to our family.  

I am glad they had the call but it left me more frustrated. It was further confirmation that she is not capable of having the type of relationship I so badly wanted for my kids. I know, I know, if she was we wouldn't be at this point. But it hurts my heart.

The therapists also believe that this will be an instance where the bio parent will need the state to take the action to fulfill the victim role (they took my kids). It didn't seem that she fully understands that the trial will happen if she doesn't sign and that there will be not any more delays. After hearing some of the statements she made Hubby and I will not be surprised if she no shows to court. (She has the excuse of just giving birth.)

She is concerned about losing her relationship with Stella but she doesn't really understand that her actions and choices are what determine her ability to see the kids. (She doesn't really mention the other children. This highlights the dysfunction in her relationship with Stella.) It was pretty clear that she is laying the ground work for us to be the bad guys.

This upset me. I'm done being everyone's fall guy. And as I was having a pity party/meltdown about this the therapist said:

"Foster Mom R, it's not you. It's the position. Whoever would be standing in your shoes would be experiencing the same behavior. Swap the word. If she called you a cabbage would you take it personally? Of course not, because you are not a cabbage. Sounds ridiculous and that's because it is. You are none of the things she is accusing you of. This is a person who is very much the same as your children with trauma playing the stay busy with me game because as long as you engage her, you can't lose her and she can't lose her kids. 

It was kind of an a-ha moment for me. I'm not a cabbage. I'm not being difficult or unreasonable in my expectations for a well adjusted adult but for a woman with a long trauma and abuse history my consistency and boundaries and rules seem foreign.  Which equates to scary. She has spent a lifetime triangulating and manipulating and I'm not going to change that. She has no idea what a secure attachment is and she struggles with relationships, especially those of authority and power. 

We will see what happens at court in a few weeks. Meanwhile, we had an unbirthday this weekend for the kids. They had a blast.

Here is my Sarah as the White Rabbit.

I just searched...

"overwhelmed Mom" on Pinterest. There was a "12 resources" link and I had already tried #s 1-10. 11 and 12 were actually a plug for a headache medication..... and I'm beyond popping some OTC stuff and becoming a new person.

Smiley actually asked me at dinner tonight, "Mom are you sick?".

Because I didn't go to work or because its clear I'm not really speaking to Dad?

OK. I only said the work part.  And I didn't go to work today because I took a day off to do homework.

The highlight of my day? Being able to wear an oversized sweatshirt in July...

Taking a vacation day to listen to lectures where the professor actually yawns while she is talking just sucks....

But when life hands you lemons...go to Starbucks and get a fancy lemonade.

 

Just Done

My post from yesterday about the insensitive family members didn't save or publish. :( I've decided today that I'm tired. Tired of fighting others for what comes so naturally to me. Acceptance. Of other children. Of other families- of all shapes and sizes. Of differences. 

We fall into that category. We are an adoptive family. My children are not my "natural" children. They don't look like me. They come from another culture. A different economic class. We aren't seen as an equal to biological families and the world seems determined to remind me of that today and I'm just done. D.O.N.E. Done.

It's not the same kind of fight as racial equality or marriage equality but it's in a similar category. How my family is formed doesn't really affect how your family operates so why do you feel the need to belittle it? And the fact that you don't even realize that is what your are doing, says more than your hurtful words and your turned down nose. Why can't everyone just stop being jerk faces and worry about themselves? 

*******

I spent part of my day writing a letter against sibling visits with the new baby. It goes against everything I believe in but highlights everything that is wrong with the foster care system: Policies that don't address every situation and leave no room for common sense. Foster parents who bear the brunt of poor decision making on the part of others and kids who languish in limbo. Not to mention resources burned through for the fun of it. I actually included a sentence that if the court process had been timely we wouldn't even be having this discussion. I also included a sentence to the effect: If you people pulled your heads out of your asses you wouldn't be giving her a chance to inflict trauma on a 7th kid when she walked away from 6 others and this would be moot because the sibling would just be placed with her siblings for adoption and by the way the other two in the other state she left behind haven't been kept in contact with so why do you think my four or the baby would be different? It might have been written a tad more tactful.... 

The really, really sad part is that I'm not sure the letter from us or the therapists with the clinical recommendation is going to help and I have feeling deep down that the state of Illinois is actually going to pay an agency to drive 4 kids ages 6-10- an hour each way to go sit and stare at a baby.

Oh but Foster Mom R- you could supervise. Ummm no I can't. Because if I'm being really, really honest with myself I want a baby more at this moment then I ever have in all my life. Now when it makes no sense, and it's clear I couldn't do it without all kinds of medical intervention, at the worst possible time in terms of other crap we are dealing with and all kinds of other responsibilities, I want a baby. And I would get attached to the baby that is not meant to be mine and it would trigger my unresolved grief of my fertility and I would fall apart with each visit. 

So clearly I need to get on the ball and get myself back into therapy to talk some of this crap out of my system. Because I've got the above mentioned other stuff I have to handle.

Rough, Rough, Night

It's been a long time since I've had to restrain a tantruming kid. I actually contemplated calling the risk assessment team because she was so out of sorts. Even after she calmed down, she escalated to another tantrum a few hours later.

Sarah is really struggling with the feelings of love she has going on. It's all fear based that we will go away. Prolonging her visits until the trial did not help her in any way. In fact, they are hurting her. She spend her evening in a panic attack/tantrum. Screaming at the top of her lungs- I need space. You don't understand, I can't breathe.

There were some you aren't my parents, calling us by our first names and a few I hate you'd for good measure.

Did I ever tell you about my theory that if your kid tells you they hate you when you are correcting their behavior, you are doing it right?

Sadly, I lost my cool with the other kiddos. Admittedly, I'm tapped out and it's only Tuesday.....

Each tantrum, wet bed, crying jag only seems to fuel my anger at Sheila. Which makes me feel angry at myself. Ugh.

Worn Out

I'm feeling really worn out today. It's been a tough week at work and we had a really rough night at therapy. Tapping into those feelings for the kids was like lighting the fuse on a powder keg. 

I really just didn't have the emotional energy to be super positive silly therapuetic Mom today. I sat and listened to my kids read me the book "Maybe Days" and I just got so angry and so sad. And then my kids flipped out in their own ways and it made for a long night.

Just want to be done. We all want to be done.

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. 

************************

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.
 

Reality TV

I thought I had written a post about my ABC Family TV addiction. Turns out that I started to write one and never published it. I wrote about it being my guilt pleasure here.  But I also have a fondness for MTV's Teen Mom as well. 

If you aren't familiar with the show, its a reality show that follows teens who have gotten pregnant and their journey to parenthood. The girls were on a show called 16 and pregnant and then 4 were picked to be on Teen Mom that followed them after the pregnancy for a longer period of time. I thought the show did a good job of highlighting the challenges that the moms faced navigating school, relationships. finances, etc. 

One couple, Catelynn and Tyler placed their baby for adoption against their family's wishes. Catelynn and Tyler's story was heart breaking.  It was clear from the show that they came from a family that had a lot of trauma and they insisted that the best choice for their daughter was adoption.  I was awed by the maturity in their decision.

The moms are now back on MTV sharing their current lives with the cameras. Tyler and Catelynn have bought a house, are planning a wedding and are expecting again.  Their storyline follows them as they prepare for a baby after placing a child for adoption and navigate the semi-open adoption relationship with their daughter's adoptive parents.

SPOILER ALERT: This weeks episode was the meeting between the two sets of parents and boy did it hit home for me.  The adoptive Mom, Theresa talked about the grief and loss in adoption. The loss of their fertility, the grief of taking another woman's child. The fear of rejection for never being the birth mother.  Catelynn and Tyler talked about the fear of having the openness taken away and the fear of rejection of not being the parents that raised her. Then in an absolute moment of amazingness, Theresa gave Catelynn some of their daughter's mementos: a baby doll and an outfit she wore.

I was crying my eyes out. Its not often we get to see the honesty on TV about both sides of adoption and I'm really pleased to see it portrayed in such an honest way.  It gave me some things to think about as I prepare to have a similar conversation with the birth parents of my children. It was good for me to be reminded about the birth parent perspective. I always try to be kind and thoughtful when with the birth parents, but sometimes that is hard to do when you are faced with the harm that came to the children.  The termination of parental rights process is all about that.  The odd part about this time, is that I've not rooted for Sheila to fail. 

If I'm being really honest, I had rooted for Maria to fail at times. I'm ashamed by this now.  Especially since I now consider her a friend.  But its true.  With Sheila, I never rooted against her but we also knew from the beginning that a complete turn around wasn't likely. (I may have wished that the process could be sped up in either direction just because I think kids stuck in foster care is a travesty.) But I am terrified of the grief coming our way and that played out on my television tonight.

I will do everything in my power to get them the tools they need to handle the grief.  I will give them space to process it.  But I can't stop it or magically make it better. I can't stop by own grief that these beautiful children were dealt a craptastick hand in life for which they will probably deal with well into adulthood, if not longer.  I can't prevent the inevitable grief they will feel over their new sibling or the ones they hardly mention.

Some will say that I signed up for this when I became a foster parent, that this is what I get.  I have some choice words for those folks.

Let me tell you, no one signs up for the grief.  You sign up to help kids. You sign up because you have this crazy notion that you can make a difference for kids who certainly didn't ask for this to be their life.  And by the time you discover that this is the road less traveled for a reason, you are already hopelessly in love with children who need people who are willing to roll up their sleeves.  Just because I "signed up for foster parenting" doesn't mean I can't talk about the challenges it presents.  Would you tell someone who was in a horrific car accident caused by someone else "well that's what you get for driving". Um no you wouldn't. And if you did, that makes you a total jerk.

 

Dear Sheila

Dear Sheila,

I'm writing this post because my heart is full and I need a place to put it. I can never tell you any of the things I am about to write because they wouldn't be appropriate. That's how this whole foster mom thing works. Everyone else gets to do whatever they feel or want and I have to sit by and watch with my mouth shut only opening it occasionally to express carefully phrased statements mean not to  rock the proverbial and precarious boat.

As I sit tonight helping our son with his report on monkeys I was sad. Sad that you missed out on such a special moment. You wouldn't have known that his handwriting has improved a ton. Or watched his toothless grin creep up as he decided that monkeys eating bugs is funny. You also would have missed the meltdown when I discovered that he hid the assignment from me. So afraid to disappoint it's easier to disappear. So worried I will not have time that he just assumes he has to do this 1st grade project on his own. That's on you and your choices. 

I sat at the table at 9pm exhausted. Both physically and emotionally. I spent the entire evening at therapy helping our kids navigate the life skills they will need to handle and hopefully overcome their trauma. While Hubby read and played games with the kids in the waiting room I was invited into session to play a game with Stella. A game designed to help her learn how to handle stress and disappointment. She's 10. Her biggest disappointment should be not getting to watch tv, not trying so hard to be perfect because if she makes a mistake no one will love her and ask her to leave her home.

I spent last night meeting with the same therapists until nearly midnight discussing the kids' progress and trying to explore the feelings I have about being asked to take your next baby if the state decides you will not parent the baby.   

You know how I'm feeling? Pretty flipping mad at you. How could you put us in this situation? How could you do this to our kids? They will be crushed if you keep the baby. They will be crushed if we don't take the baby. And in the third scenario I might be crushed by taking the baby. I can't win here. And neither can you. 

And you know what? My full time work, grad school attending, 1/2 marathon training, mother of four ass is too gosh darn tired from moving to deal with this right now. I hope the sex was worth it. I see you re-friended him on Facebook now that the restraining order expired. I really want to shake you until you realize that you are doing the exact.same.thing that caused my four to be taken from your custody. Maybe then I won't have to be the one to fix it. Or feel like a hypocrit and failure because I decide I can't handle fixing it. I know that should be perfectly ok to set a clear boundary and limit. I know that it's healthy but it all feels wrong. 

Sadly, you likely don't understand any of what is about to happen. You think your rights will remain intact. You have no idea how much grieving our kids are doing and will do. You have no idea how much I resent that we have another permanency hearing next week and the goal will not be changed to adoption. They have not lived with you for more than 760 days. And of this anger further hurts my heart because I don't want to feel this way.

I want a positive relationship. I envision a bigger family that includes yours. Wonderful cultural traditions and birth stories and "when you were little" stories.  I want to share our children's hearts and in order to do that, I have to lighten mine about all this.

I hope you understand,

Foster Mom R

Baby Mine

I love my mother dearly. I am grateful for everything she has done to help us in our journey. She has been my rock many times and has filled in and picked up kids, took them to appointments, and got them organized when I had my hands full with something else. But she isn't always the best person to be my sounding board. She has a very hard time being neutral. And my Mother does not hold back her opinion. Ever. She doesn't do it to be mean or hurtful. I think she's really aiming for honest and open but it often feels judgemental and critical.

Over the years I've learned to consider her statements and then go with my gut even if she thought what I was doing was wrong.

When we first told her we were going to be foster parents she tried to talk us out of it. She relayed a horrific story about a friend of hers. We of course proceeded anyway and tonight she sat surrounded by her grandchildren that she truly adores.

My Mom has heard me cry on a number of occasions about my infertility. She's reassured me that the pain I have felt as I have watched all of my friends have babies didn't make me an awful person. She has listened as I've questioned why it is that mothers who hurt their children can continue to give birth but I can't.

I know she would love on a grand baby and it wouldn't matter her if the child was biologically mine or not. When I told her about Sheila being pregnant she got all excited. Tonight she made several comments about how she thinks we should take the baby. "I would do it."

I know my Mom would help. She's offered to provide the first year of daycare. She's an amazing grandma but at the same time it wouldn't be her doing it. It would be me. And that's when it hit me.

In my heart, I don't think I could be the mother to this child. I wish I could explain how helpless that thought makes me feel. No one likes to admit their limitations. In fact, I pretty much walk around pretending I have a cape on my back. And I came head on with the fact that when I signed up to take these four forever, I shut the door pretty tight on any other children much less an infant. 

I appear to have my act together but most days I feel like I manage by the skin of my teeth. And my kids have a background of trauma. Sure we are doing fine now but we haven't hit puberty yet. How on earth could I have 4 teenagers and a kid in 1st grade?

We just bought a house and have another house we need to find a renter for. I'm in the middle of Grad School and I work full time. And while Hubby is a great Dad his work schedule is unpredictable and it would be up to me to provide consistency for a baby with a schedule.

The therapists encouraged us to make a decision before we were actually asked to take the baby. But it seems like such an awful choice to make. Will a baby topple us? And if we don't open our arms then what happens to this child? This sibling of my kids. Will my kids resent me for turning my back on their brother or sister? Will they resent me for taking on their sibling (because I will be in over my head)? 

And after all of the prayers and tears for a baby how could I be such a hypocrite when there is the possibility of one? Seriously for more than four years I've written about wanting to be a Mom and I turn my back on an innocent baby? But where do we draw the line? What about the next baby?

Now I'm crying because there is a baby? And what about Sheila? Does she even know that her baby is likely to be taken? 

It's so confusing. It seems like it should be a simple choice. But I feel like either way is wrong.