You Have a Nice Family

Sometimes the hardest part of losing my Grandma is that she didn't get to meet my kids or see me be a Mom. Its hard to explain what an amazing woman she was. She was never alone because she made friends everywhere.  She had a Facebook page. She was notorious for not knowing how to work ANY of her cameras...like ever. She had a laugh you could hear across the house and she had a quirk about sharing utensils. And man she could make the smallest get togethers totally special. She worked hard to make sure her family knew she loved them for being them. Even when we failed, sometimes miserably, she always gave us the encouragement or the kick in the ass that we needed.

I know I'm doing a good job of telling my kids about her because in moments when I admit to them that I wish they could have met her they say to me, "Mom I feel like I love her even though I never met her." And that warms my heart and makes the loss slightly easier.

For whatever reason, today was a day I missed her incredibly. Its been almost 6 months since I've had a dream with her in it and I'm afraid that means I won't have one again. I'm afraid that I've lost the spiritual connection to her. I know I will see her in Heaven but I'm impatient. (One of the lessons I know that God wanted to teach me was patience when He showed me the path of Foster Care.)

I think maybe I was missing her so much because we were near her house today and decided to eat at our favorite pizza place. And when I say our, I mean our entire family. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins this was the place we always went to (and still do). The majority of birthdays, to celebrate an achievement, Father's Day, Mother's Day, Friday.....Any opportunity we could we'd meet up in this tiny little dive pizza place that only sells pizza, has no delivery, accepts only cash or check, and has seating for maybe 40 people, maybe. The place has been there for more than 50 years and hasn't changed much over the years. As I sat down at one of the tables with my family I was hit with tears. Continuing the legacy as it were.

Within minutes our pizza was set on our table and we proceeded to inhale the deliciousness. We ate pretty much in silence because the pizza is that good. We joked a bit as we slowed down on the chewing and enjoyed the time together. A rare non-eventful day where there were no tantrums, no tears, and everyone was getting along. As we were getting up to leave the elderly folks at the table next to us were leaving too. One of the woman who had a smile like my Grandmother touched my arm and said to me,

"You have a very nice family. I was watching you and you just have such a  lovely family."

I smiled and said, "Thank you. Thank you for noticing."

Its is very much the kind of thing my Grandma would say to a family sharing our space who seemed nice and had well behaved children. And crazy as it might seem I really think my Grandma was working through that woman.

And if it wasn't, it was a good reminder that at the end of the day we really are a nice family. It was also really nice to have someone who doesn't know our back story see us as "normal". To not be the instant family, or the foster family, or even have someone question if we are related. To not have someone tell us we are nice because we became foster parents but rather because we are nice to each other and had a nice time and it showed.

Things going through my mind

I'm writing this post to hope Murphy's Law will work and the judge will call us in to the permanency hearing. I'm sharing a couch with my kids Mother after a really really crappy week. I was just going to write the thoughts popping into my rapidly firing brain. Then I thought well maybe I can use this time to learn some more of the kids history.

So I asked and she answered. And for a few minutes we were Moms sharing stories. Until we realized we were sharing stories about the same kids. I tried really hard to be kind. To nod when she was making comments while my brain was screaming SHE DOESN'T GET IT. I felt empathy as she shared some of her background. But that doesn't mean I'm going to just roll over and stop protecting these kids. I did bite my tounge when I could have said they are terrified of you. But it took a lot to do so.

Then we got called in. And the judge commended us on working together. She told us that she kept the boxes the girls decorated to bring their cupcakes to her. They are on her shelf. She also recommended the enter the court house artwork contest.

But it made me feel like a fake. Yes I work with Mom because I know is best for the kids but I do it grudgingly. I don't think very highly of ther Mom. I sometimes pray she disappears and then change my mind because I'd just have to pick up the pieces. I don't write nice things about her because I don't see her being able to care for thee kids.

This is perhaps the 2 mr worst week of my life. A close second to the week my Grandma passed last year. We had an ACR, family/team meeting, holiday concert, therapy, testifying against abusers, permanency hearing, licensing worker visit and on Wednesday the hospitalization of Jelly Bean for suicidal thoughts.

I'm a wreck the kids are a wreck and I sat and listened to the judge say that Mom was meeting the reasonable effort standard and renewing the goal of return home. She told her she has a long road. And she won't send the kids home until she is sure they are safe. And set a hearing for one month for results of the psych eval which rumblings I'm hearing are not positive in Mom's favor. She assigned a CASA worker to be another set of ears. I see they are crossing all the Ts. But I get the sense that the preference here is to drag this on. at least that's how it feels.
And I get to handle the fall out. I'm the one who had to leave the child at the psychiatric hospital. I'm the one who spend hours yeterday calming sisters down. I'm the one juggling these appointments. Somehow it feels like I am the one doing all the work.

Unfair

Wednesday I recieved what I would consider two major blows. The first was a phone call from the District Attorney's office. The Victim Advocate called to set up a meeting with Little Mama to prep her for a pretrial hearing in the case agianst the Monster that hurt JB in foster care. I'm sorry did I hear you right - LM has to testify? When is the hearing? 2 weeks? And I'm just finding this out now? Do you know she was abused also? And that guy is sitting in jail? And its a major issue with my kids as he was the father of another one of the kids? Luckily this was in time for her trauma therapist to prep her before the DA. To say I was caught off guard was an understatement. And man am I worried about the trigger this might be. After a year in therapy she still hasn't disclosed ANY of the details of her abuse to her therapist. This may just be the log that breaks the dam.

Then Case Worker came over for our monthly visit. We had emailed with some major concerns about visits. We were right they aren't going well. Why aren't they going well? According to their Mom its because the kids are in a non-Spanish speaking home. There is a law in Illinois that states that Spanish speaking parents are entitled to have the right to say whether or not their children can be in English speaking homes. They must sign a waiver if it is ok for this to happen. Our foster kid's mother did not sign it. And after all of the Spanish speaking placements for her 4 children disrupted they were placed in our home together after 9 months of being seperated.

According to everyone in the case they are doing wonderfully here. They are excelling at school, begining to heal in therapy, finally stabalized after 9 months of moves (5 other houses between them). And because of this their service providers and case worker are finding out more and more of the poor choices and abuse that these kids have suffered through. And as their visit time has increased so has their Mom's inability to handle the 4 kids that she has. 1) because there are 4 of them 2) because they don't trust her 3)they are acting out big time because they know she can't hit them 4) one of them is 4 and a boy 5) one of them has ADHD 6) she doesn't have a support system 7) she hasn't taken responsibility for her actions 8) she has had a therapist for a year that was a total idiot. (He's the reason family therapy stopped.)

And because she can't take responsibility and blames everyone else it is now OUR fault that her children are refusing to speak Spanish around her. And she wants them moved to a Spanish speaking home. And she has the power to do so even though it was her actions that caused them to be removed in the first place. Not caring that this will absoluetly traumatize them further. Not caring that finally her 7 year old is able to hug a father figure without fear. Not caring that her children can now read and are doing well in school. Not realizing that maybe if she stopped shoving Mexico down their throat they might stop rebelling. Or if she stopped telling them they will be moving to Mexico or that she will be moving to Mexico with or without them they might be willing to embrace their heritage. Not realizing that instead of ignoring her children at visits because their Spanish isn't where she wants it she could use the time to interact with them and teach them or speak to them in the English she does know so they weren't so darn frustrated and acting out. And perhaps learning English would help her land a better paying job so she wasn't so stressed about finances or dependent on boyfriends to take care of her AND her four children.

Now before I get flamed on my blog about my insensitivity to their Mom or what sounds like non-support of the reunification goal let me give you some background on our family. My husband is hispanic. 100%. My Mother-in-Law speaks fluent Spanish as does my husband's Step Father, and best friend. We support and encourage the kids to use their Spanish. They flat out refuse. And while I understand listening to music or forcing them to watch tv and movies in Spanish or conversing with our friends and family who do speak Spanish is a lousy 2nd to living with people who speak fluent Spanish it isn't like we are trying to take it away from them. Additionally, our support of their eduction, mental health, and other needs has been above and beyond as all of their service providers have told us. I'm not one to toot my own horn but when their bilingual trauma therapist looks be dead in the eye and tells me she rarely gives compliments but believes we are one of the best foster parents she's ever worked with and in her professional opinion thinks we are the best possible home for them I have to believe her. She also believes this problem with Spanish started way before they got put in DCFS care and this is evidenced by the fact that the youngest was given an evaluation in Spanish but answered everything in English. Why? because his older sister who was learning English in school was taking care of him.

But none of that matters. Because as hard as I try to help these kids heal their Mother is making more work for them.And the law gives her that power. And I understand there is a serious and real concern that the youngest won't be able to understand her when he returns home. And I take that seriously, I really do. So in order to prevent ANOTHER move we have to enroll them in Spanish classes. So between school, and three therapists, weekly visits, and perhaps family therapy starting they will have Spanish class. And to top all that off we may be required to speak to their Mom, in Spanish. This part is still fuzzy.

But as their therapist relayed this requirement to me it just seemed incredibly unfair. Because on top of caring for 4 children, working full time, and trying to keep my sanity I will now have to jump through several hoops when their Mother has not had to jump through a single one. And I cried in her office. With my foster children on the other side of the wall. Angry that their Mother doesn't understand that their well being and her issues go well beyond them speaking Spanish. Or how incredibly fragile her children are. And that to me there was no other option than trying to comply with these requests to protect HER kids. And knowing that at the end of this she is supposed to get them back and has the right to take them out of our lives forever. And because my husband did not not grow up speaking Spanish and actually didn't do very well taking it in High School I will now have to brush up on mine. So it rides on my shoulders. Luckily I took Spanish from 7th grade up through college. But its rusty. And I never thought I was very good. But I will do it because thats whats best for these kids. And when they complain and ask me why they have to go to ANOTHER appointment none of their friends have to go to I will lie and say because the judge made it a rule because that is also for their best interest.

If I'm being perfectly honest....

I would grade myself as a D for Mommy today. I yelled. I was annoyed. I was tired. At one point I tried to hide in my room (which for anyone with kids probably knows is damn near impossible). I really wanted out of this commitment and this life I got us in to. And then I felt guilty for feeling all these things. I really just want to curl into a ball and cry my heart out. Have one of those long ugly cries with snot everyway and my face scrunched and then just fall to sleep from sheer exhaustion.

The thing is I know WHY some of today was the way it was. We had a day to do nothing and I didn't realize before my kids don't do "nothing" well. We had no structure in our weekend and while I was looking so forward to that I didn't remember they don't handle that well and this is really the first time in 2 months we haven't had a bunch of places to be on a weekend. We were also supposed to visit with Little Mama and Gabby's first Foster Mom this afternoon. This created all kinds of misbehaving from them that we don't normally see and I know they were keyed up.

And thus lays this slippery slope that we find ourself on in Foster Care. We are supposed to do the BEST we can for the kids and keep them in contact with loved ones but we get PUNISHED every step of the way. But we can't stop visits with these people because of the backlash we have to do it in spite of the backlash because its supposed to be the best thing for them in the long run. We must support reunification even if we know it means that these children will likely be robbed of a million opportunities due to circumstance or lack of support.

I know it will benefit the girls to see that this woman who had them moved from her home because of her biological son (and her disinterest in forming a safety plan with him regarding the girls) and still misses them and cares deeply. I try not to be angry for the hurt she caused and be grateful that she took this action because if she hadn't they wouldn't be here in my life. But it sucked big time today when I was playing referee ALL DAY. Wiping away tears and doling out time outs. And it sucked even more when I got a voicemail saying that her family had an emergency and she wasn't going to be coming. Watching these kids be let down (even though I was dreading the reactions and after math of her departure) was even worse.

In my heart I know we are doing good things. I know I wouldn't change it if given the chance but today I wished their Mom could get her act together and take her kids. I know I love them. I know also that they frustrated the Hell out of me today. What frustrated me more was my inability to control my own temper. And the guilt at all of the above. I had a gut check moment where I asked myself if I knew they would stay with us forever if I would feel the same way and the answer was no. If I knew that today was for healing and that it meant in 10 years we would be a family - not a foster family I probably would not have felt so overwhelmed. And by contrast I felt awful for questioning whether I would be feeling the same things if I knew they were for sure going home. I feel hopeless and helpless. And yet I know that no matter I much I feel these things these 4 amazing kids feel it worse and I know that means I have to pull myself out of this pity party and be better.

Meeting My Kids Mother

So the past few weeks we've been preparing for the Permanency Hearing in June. In our state there are quarterly hearings and then 2 Permanency Hearings in 12 months. In June my kids and their sisters will have been in DCFS care for 1 year. We met with their case worker, the Guardian Ad Lietum (the kids attorney), and my licensing worker came out. My husband was teaching a Junior Achievement Class at the same time as the court hearing so I went alone. The other foster parents didn't feel they belonged at the hearing if the kids weren't supposed to be there so they did not go. To each their own I guess.

I was nervous. I was waiting to hear back on a salary counter offer for a new job I was accepting. I didn't know where I was going when I got to the court building (in fact the Sheriffs sent me to the wrong floor and I missed the beginning of the hearing). And I wasn't sure what was going to happen. I didn't know if it was in English or Spanish. So I packed my trusty pocket Spanish-English dictionary along with the clothes he came home in last week from his Mom's. I had washed them and intended to give them to her in hopes she would get the message and send back the jeans and brand new t-shirt he had been wearing last week.

Once I got to the right court room the bailiff informed me the case had already begun and wanted to know in a somewhat mean tone why I was late. Umm because your comrades down the end of the hall apparently are too busy chit chatting to listen to people when they ask a question? But after I told him I was a foster parent who was sent to the wrong floor he let me in.

If a court room could be described as cozy this one was. It was on the smaller side and a very nice looking woman was presiding. I slid in the bench behind the attorney tables as the judge and the State's Attorney were discussing that Mom had completed her parenting classes. They were also going over the status of the children who were having some behavior problems but were stabilized and doing quite well. Then she asked me to state my name and purpose. Jelly Bean and Mr. Mohawk's Foster Parent. To which she told me I had gone above and beyond facilitating additional contact between the kids. Stated for the record that I should be commended for the way I've approached the situation. Some more information about granting DCFS discretion in allowing additional visitation and starting family therapy and some unsupervised time was discussed and then I realized I was sitting directly behind their Mother who was in between her attorney and the translator.

I thought I would feel angry being that close to her. But mostly I was curious. I couldn't see her face and the only picture I had seen was her mug shot that I found in the newspaper. Despite the fact that the kids come home filthy from their visits I felt better knowing she had completed and passed a parenting class. Now I don't know how long they are but I bit back the urge (well at least until later in the day) to wonder why it had taken her 9 months to complete it. Then the judge dismissed us and we were asked to leave the court room. She went to stand in the vestibule and I had no choice to follow. So I walked out stuck out my hand and introduced myself. And there was this woman smiling. I took out the clothes and she said I have yours at home. And suddenly I relaxed a bit.

We went to sit on the couch in the hall to wait for the caseworker and I made every effort to try and break the ice. She didn't ask me many questions but I tried to tell her what was going on with her kids. I tried to treat her how I would want to be treated if I had somehow ended up on that side of the couch. I showed her a picture of all four at the Waterpark on my phone and she asked if I could send it. And while this may be a moment of kindness I later regret I did send it. And she seemed very happy about it. So much so that Jelly Bean asked me how her Mom got it when she came home from her visit later that night. In my heart I felt sad for her. In just that short hour I learned that this was a woman who really did seem to care about her kids but just didn't have the tools:the knowledge, the money, the support. It didn't make me better than her as I sometimes want to think. I'm sure it was hard to sit across from me. I get to know what is going on in her kid's world. I get to kiss them goodnight. I get the everyday pictures. They call me Mom too. She gets 2 hours a week with a stranger watching.

Now I'm not saying that she shouldn't have only 2 hours with a supervisor as she did beat the snot out of her kids and made very bad decision where her life is concerned but in that time period I reached a different level of understanding. And I guess a new level of comfort. I don't think she is one of the people that just likes to beat on others. She was way overwhelmed. And knowing the kids and seeing her circumstances I could see how someone might get to that place. My fear though is how much is going to change that she won't be right back in that same place. Especially since now these kids have had even more trauma and anger than before.

The caseworker had already asked us if we could help facilitate a long transition home and this is a women I will be seeing again. She is also the one who will ultimately make the decision to allow me to see these children that I love so much once they do return home. So beyond the "Golden Rule" attitude there was some selfish motivation which seemed to take away the emotions I thought I would feel and replace them with this confidence and peace I wasn't expecting. Ok and maybe a small piece of me was hoping she would see how much we love the kids and how good they are doing and just say "if you let me see them you can have them". But of course that is fantasy and selfish but the thought creeps in every once in a while.

We chatted for a little longer and then walked out with the caseworker. She shared some concerns about the kid's sisters and their current placement and there is a possibility that we will respite for them during their spring break. They will be getting some more supports but if that doesn't work they may disrupt. In which case as crazy as it would be we would take them too. Because the other piece to this case is that these kids need to learn how to get along and stop fighting as much as their mother needs to learn how to not hit them. And if they don't do that before they move back I feel their chances of coming back into the system are much higher.

Perspective

Our journey to foster/adoption was impacted along the way. From the time I was a child young enough to need a babysitter to the time I was the babysitter and now as an adult. But yesterday something odd happened and I was reminded of the Safe Haven Baby that was in fact not placed.

It was May of 2009. A co-worker of mine was talking at lunch about her Sister who was pregnant and giving the baby up for adoption. We had friends that were going through the process of working with a domestic adoption agency. I decided to open my big mouth.

Oh are the adoptive parents going to be there?

No she didn't do that she was just going to leave the baby at the hospital under the Safe Haven Law

Oh. Well you know we have friends who are trying to adopt.

Do you think they'd be interested in the baby?

I could ask.

So I did. I e-mailed with the details I knew. Baby Girl. Due in a month. Bi-racial. Dad in Jail. Mom Drug user. No Prenatal care. The friends were interested. So I texted my co-worker. I recieved one back. I talked to my Sister she wants to give her to your friends. WOW. Just WOW.

These friends of ours had tried for years - undergoing every fertility treatment possible. Even trying massage and acupuncture and there was no medical explination for their inability to get pregnant. They didn't have any trouble with their first pregnancy and they desperately wanted to give their child a sibling. I was excited! Maybe working in this office finally had MEANING. We were facilitating a much wanted adoption helping everyone out. (Yeah I was that arrogant.)

Then the sister went into labor. That night. She labored for 2 days. The families talked. They decided to go forward. Could we come and introduce them at the hospital the day she is born? Sure. We walked in and saw this tiny beautiful baby girl hours old. I got to hold her. And went to change her diaper not realizing it was her first diaper change. We listened as her Mother told the potential adoptive parents how she wanted her to have better and that she was sure of her decision. Hire the lawyer. Hold your daughter. I would never tell you I was going to give you the baby and then change my mind. Until she did. And the social worker told the adoptive family's lawyer that there was no baby to adopt.

I was angry and upset. I felt responsible for bringing this heartache into our friends lives. How could she do that to them? To her Daughter? These people could give her EVERYTHING. I was concerned about the $1,000 retainer they plunked down. And this was all complicated by the fact that I worked with the Aunt. Maybe this is my Sisters chance to change her life around. Perhaps now she'll stay clean (apparently her 15 year old wasn't reason enough, or her boyfriend who over dosed and died at her house the previous year). She quailifies for state insurance and she can get a voucher for a free high chair. The updates on the baby started to sting as I heard them. My office was careful not to mention it around me but I did hear things here and there. I found out the Aunt had taken custody of the baby in order for her to leave the hospital as she tested positive for drugs at birth. I saw her picture and her beautiful curly hair. And a gigantic smile.

Then we ventured down the road of foster parenting and adoption and I learned a ton. That drug abuse is a common reason for children to be taken by DCFS. That an adoptive family in a "better" situation does not give the chid an automatic pass to a great life. That often adoptive children have trouble coming to terms with how they came to be adopted and that knowing their birthfamilies becomes very important for many of them. That the best interest of a child is to stay with their birth families if at all possible. In reading the blog of a woman who did place her baby up for adoption under Safe Haven I learned of the pain that birth mothers go through. I know that with the joy of adoption for the adoptive family also come with a great loss to the birth family and the children.

Yesterday I was sitting at my desk working at my computer with my back to the hallway. I heard little feet running down the hall and I turned to look. It was her. Full of energy, same big smile. She came running straight to me. Her Aunt laughing. She came straight to you. Thats so wierd! And instead of the prick of heartache I felt joy. Joy for this little girl that her Mom was able to parent. Happiness that she looked well cared for and adorable. Relieved that she seemed healthy. Blessed that she popped into my life. I have a different perspective now and I'm glad I was able to be a part of their difficult journey so that if ever faced with the situation again I'll have a better understanding of the emotion involved.

You might ask what happened to our friends. They found out they were pregnant not too long after going through this situation. Their baby was born in May and while she had some serious health problems she is now home and doing well.