foster

Brave

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This is my favorite definition of bravery. “The ability to look fear and hurt in the face and say ‘move aside. You are in the way.’” 

I want to be brave. I want my kids to be brave. I want them to do courageous things even when they are scared and riddled with doubt and anxiety. My wish for them is that they always know they were put here on purpose and for a purpose. There are no accidents or mistakes here.

The times in my life during which I have experienced the most formidable amount of fear and anxiety have also been the times in which I’ve grown the most and transformed into a better version of myself. Needless to say, as we press forward toward adoption, fear and anxiety have had a backstage pass to my life these days. It’s overwhelming.

Taking on foster care was the bravest thing I’ve done. Adopting even braver. These kids have changed me. My purpose. My priorities. Everything.

I’m hearing all sorts of whispers of fear in my life right now. “This is only going to get harder.” “Once the adoption happens, all doors to support will be closed.” “You’re going to be legally responsible for their actions.” “Can you really do this?” “They are damaged – they will never be whole. You can’t fix this.” “If a recession hits, do you really think you’ll be able to financially provide the life they deserve?” “Say goodbye to your marriage… it’ll be splitsville by the time they are in middle school.” “You’ll be working for the rest of your life.”

Brave is my word this season. It has my focus. My attention. My mantra so to speak. A few of my current nightstand reads: Brave Enough by Cheryl Strayed, 100 Days to Brave by Annie F. Downs, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, Option B by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant, and I am Malala by Christina Lamb and Malala Yousafzai. If you’re looking for some inspiration, I recommend any of these (note: the book 100 Days to Brave is a devotional type read and may not be your cup of tea depending on beliefs. 👌🏼 No judgment here!). One thing I’m learning as I focus on “Brave” this season is that there are no regrets. That it’s okay – normal even – to feel scared. It’s not without fear and hurt. That it’s important to strive for progress, not perfection. It’s about letting go – of control, of the ideals around “what I thought my life would look like,” and embracing the uncomfortable unknown. Brave isn’t a feeling but a choice.

Let go and be brave my friends! ✌🏼

“Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can’t be kind, true, merciful, generous or honest.” – Maya Angelou

Thank you, Teachers!

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(Originally Written May 26, 2019)

Last week was Teacher Appreciation Week so it feels fitting to talk about our experience as a foster family and how teachers and educators have supported us. My biggest advice for anybody with kids is to befriend your kids’ teachers. And the administrators. Pretty much anybody working at your kids school (yes, even the janitorial crew! They interact and love on and teach your kids too!). Even more important if you are fostering. These incredible people spend a little more than 6 hours a day with my kids and they aren’t just educators. They are also leaders and builders of community. They are stewards of compassion and have supernatural gifts of energy, patience, kindness and understanding. And they invest 100x more into the job than what they actually get out of it.

I am so grateful for our teachers. I am convinced they are powered by magic. They are incredible. They are true hero’s that have made a HUGE impact on our lives this year and we will forever be better for them.

Thank you for walking alongside us this year. Thank you for investing in our kids. Thank you for texting me from your personal cell at 8pm on countless weeknights or over the weekend to tell me about something you researched to help my child, or how my child did in your class today, or to check on me. YOU ARE A FRICKIN’ HERO. Thank you for not resenting my child who held up your Kindergarten class for 3.5 months straight, throwing chairs and destroying artwork, posters and projects. Thank you for not giving up on him. Thank you for not whispering in the halls behind our backs. Thank you for not throwing him away. Thank you for seeing the potential that broken, beautiful soul has and helping him on his journey to wholeness. Thank you for being such a huge part of his healing process. Thank you for running straight toward the problem, analyzing the catalysts for the behaviors, and creating a plan that has him achieving goals. Because of you he goes to school excited and for what seems like the first time in his life, he feels pride. His self esteem has skyrocketed. You get all the credit there. YOU ARE AMAZING. We can’t thank you enough.

Thank you to the high school teacher that helped my beautiful teen girl escape a toxic and dangerous situation. You were her lifeguard. You made her feel safe when she was in the throes of hell. You invested in her, connected with her, and held her hand every step into her foster journey. You made her feel loved. And you still do. Thank you for buying her a cell phone so that you could know she was safe before she became a foster kid. You knew she was a slave and you fostered a relationship that provided her with joy and peace in the midst of absolute hell. When nobody else was looking after her, you saw her and you were there. And you didn’t have to be. Thank you for driving 30 minutes out of your way every other Saturday to take her to tutoring and spend time with her. Because of you, she goes to school every single day – not just when someone lets her out, like a caged animal. Because of you she felt empowered to take control of her future. Because of you she has things to look forward to. And because of you we have her. We cannot thank you enough.

Thank you to our AMAZING preschool teachers who have loved 3 of our kids since they were each 3 years old. You taught them so much and remained consistent in their lives when so many shifts were happening. You helped them learn to share (we could probably use a retake on that lesson for sure) and about creating safe boundaries. You helped them feel safe and cared for.

Thank you to the Kindergarten teacher whose patience is supernatural. Thank you for showing me patience. For investing your time and love into my boy. For reaching out to me when you’ve had concerns about his behavior or health. Thank you for the sacrifice you make everyday when you put your own kids in daycare in order to love mine. Thank you for being the other woman in my boy’s life… that after a long weekend or a break, he cries for you and is excited to return to you on a Monday. Thank you for making him feel safe even when he’s not making safe decisions. Thank you for the many things you do to accommodate him and help him pursue his goals. We are so grateful.

Thank you to the school principal who calls me almost daily after school to give me updates on how the kids are and how we can work together to make them successful. Your kindness and investment in our kids is extraordinary. Thank you for taking care of your staff – knowing when they need a break, backing them on tough decisions, providing help. You are the perfect combination of seriousness and fun. Thank you for the resources, referrals, helpful feedback, problem solving, etc… Thank you for going to bat for our family with the district when we’ve needed an assessment. We are so grateful.

Thank you to the Behavioral Interventionists, School Psychologists, Para educators, 1:1s who wake up everyday and make a difference in the lives of our children. Thank you for your research and great ideas, game plans to help our kids be successful, happy and healthy. For testing our kids, for spending so much time alongside them, processing emotions and talking through problems. Thank you for showing up on the bad days, for being consistent, for reading Bobs Books you bought with your own money because you know my kid likes those books and he needs more phonics foundation. It means so much!

Thank you to the amazing administrators, assistants, school nurses, and janitorial crew. Thank you for embracing us. For calling us when our kids look a little under the weather. When you see a deviation from their normal behavior. Thank you for carving out special moments that have taught our kids to be fun and gracious, to work hard and be kind. Thank you for helping us raise accountable kids. We are so grateful!

Rescue

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This song came on the radio the other night when I was having one of those dramatic B rated movie moments. You know what I’m talking about. That kind of hands in the air, “what the heck do you want from me?!?”, I don’t think I can do this, yelling to the sky in the rain moment.
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Brokenness. Anger. Fear. Doubt. Anxiety. Grief. I’ve got a lot of work to do on my heart this season.
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Anyways this song came on the radio, almost as an answer at the end of my “moment,” and I swear it’s been looped on repeat in my car and everywhere ever since. I’m not sure what it means but it feels like hope. Words of a love so profound that it pierces the deepest, darkest, longest, hardest lengths to get to you. Purpose. Safety. Comfort. Though I believe in God, I’m not a “religious person.” There is something about these words and this song that reaches my very core in a spiritual way. In a way that says “Hey you, I see you struggling with some deep shit. YOU MATTER. I’ll go through this with you.”
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Though the author of these lyrics probably wasn’t thinking of foster children while drafting this song, I feel as though these are the perfect words for our foster youth.
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Lyrics:
You are not hidden
There’s never been a moment
You were forgotten
You are not hopeless
Though you have been broken
Your innocence stolen
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I hear you whisper underneath your breath
I hear your SOS, your SOS
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I will send out an army to find you
In the middle of the darkest night
It’s true, I will rescue you
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There is no distance
That cannot be covered
Over and over
You’re not defenseless
I’ll be your shelter
I’ll be your armor
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I hear you whisper underneath your breath
I hear your SOS, your SOS
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I will send out an army to find you
In the middle of the darkest night
It’s true, I will rescue youI will never stop marching to reach you
In the middle of the hardest fight
It’s true, I will rescue you
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I hear the whisper underneath your breath
I hear you whisper, you have nothing left
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I will send out an army to find you
In the middle of the darkest night
It’s true, I will rescue you
I will never stop marching to reach you
In the middle of the hardest fight
It’s true, I will rescue you
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Oh, I will rescue you

Homemade Playdough Recipe

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Friends, never buy playdough again. This is a recipe I love because it’s just a handful of ingredients, all stuff you probably have lying around the house. It lasts much longer than the store bought stuff, doesn’t contain any weird chemicals, and it costs just a couple of bucks to make a huge batch of it. And it takes less than 5 minutes, start to finish, to make!

Sometimes I sneak in an essential oil or two – either something calming if it’s been a stressful day for a kiddo or something with cleansing properties that supports healthy immune function if we are in flu and cold season.

Homemade Playdough Ingredients List:

  • 1 cup flour
  • 2 tsp cream of tartar
  • 1/3 cup salt
  • 1 tbsp vegetable or canola oil
  • 1 cup water
  • food coloring

Let’s Make It!

1.) Combine the flour, cream of tartar, and salt into a sauce pan (if you’re multiplying this recipe to make a big batch, okay to put all the ingredients in a stock pot).

2.) Once the dry ingredients have been mixed, add water and vegetable oil and set the stove to medium low while stirring.

3.) Cook and stir until the dough starts to become solid. Your dough may be a little lumpy.  – that’s okay. You can work those lumps out later.

4.) Once the dough is completely solid and sticking together, turn off the stove and remove the sauce pan from heat.

5.) Empty the playdough onto parchment paper to cool.

6.) Once cool enough to touch, knead and squish out any lumps. If the dough still feels sticky, add and knead in more salt until you’re satisfied with the consistency.

7.) Separate the dough into sections and add food coloring. Knead and squish in the coloring.

8.) Enjoy your playdough!

Store them in ziplock bags, Tupperware containers, or mason jars. They also make great gifts.

Happy Thanksgiving

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On Tuesday I played hooky with my girl. We went the therapy, then shopping for clothes, lunch with my mom & then painting pottery at a local studio near downtown Seattle. We needed this date; I needed it every bit as much as she did. I want to be intentional about giving her my undivided attention as often as possible and being as positive and kind and encouraging. Regretfully this past month I have noticed my interactions have been somewhat negative – “you spend too much time on social media,” “if you want to go to college, you need better grades,” “The photos you are posting on social media and in messages to friends are a little too provocative,” “please stop leaving your nail polish out where the younger kids can get into it,” “I don’t leave these cups in the sink because they are fragile and special…”

I can do better. She deserves better.

Therapy was brutal. And I’ll spare the details but to summarize things, my sweet girl is having a hard season of life. And she needs an outlet and so much love and kindness and to know that it’s okay to feel sad or angry or depressed or anxious… that is there is absolutely nothing wrong with her. That she’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.

This thanksgiving I am grateful that she landed in our home. That she’s a part of our family. I am grateful for her grace, kindness, warmth and eagerness to participate in our family. I am grateful for her laughter and love of dancing. She brings so much joy and fun into our home. I am grateful that she chose to keep fighting for herself when life became unbearably difficult for her. That when suicide was an option considered, she decided “this is not how my story will end…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One more thing…

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Think back about your first day of high school. If you can’t pinpoint first day, then your first memories, experiences that you recall about high school. Were you nervous? Scared you wouldn’t fit in? Worried about what people would think of you – your clothes, the way you looked, the way you talked, the backpack on your back, the brand of shoes on your feet…. did you sleep well the night before or did you toss and turn? Did you find your classes okay, among the sea of students in the seemingly never ending hallways? Did any familiar faces greet you in your classes, the hallway or cafeteria? Were you shown kindness?

As I sat there in the student services office with my 10th grade foster daughter on the first day of school, I was once again in awe of her resilience. And burdened with the sadness of the reality of how many hoops our foster youth have to jump through. It’s no wonder less than half graduate high school. Sobering, isn’t it? We spent two hours the day before at the school doing tour stuff, paperwork and calling social workers and attorneys for transcripts and info and records with the objective of having everything ironed out and perfect for today. We woke up at 5:30am to be at school the moment the doors opened at 7:00am. 40 minutes later and her first period class started without her because her file was not put into the system. It wasn’t a priority to the registrar… ouch, I thought. Is that coming from a place of privilege? Am I in the right being annoyed that they didn’t set her up already? My girl’s file sat on the desk for more than half of the day the day before. (In case you are wondering, I kept my mouth shut. In an effort to be a good-ish role model, and because teachers and school faculty are HEROS, I bit my tongue when I wanted to lay into any one of the 4 women who sat within 3 feet of her file all day yesterday.) Really?!?!? Are you FREAKING SERIOUS?!? The file sat ALL day on the desk. In fact, it hadn’t even moved from where I left it yesterday morning. Did they realize how difficult this day is? That she’s nervous. That this school is easily 4 times (or more) larger than any other she’s attended? That it’s her birthday week – her QUINCE – and she’s living with people who were strangers 5 weeks ago? That she knows nobody here? How much time, inconvenience, would it have cost them to pick up her file (completely COMPLETE & with transcripts) the day before and enter it into the system so that she could start her first day on the right foot? It might not have been a priority for the registrar, but to me it was. I took the day off work to focus on setting her up for success this school year… it was ONE MORE THING. One more obstacle she didn’t need, one more X on her back, and today of all days.

I wondered what she’s feeling, this sweet girl, as she sipped on her white mocha that we picked up on the way to school. Celebratory Starbucks for the first day. I hoped she’d be okay. I hoped she knew that she’d get through this day just fine. I hoped she would make friends easily and find some comfort this day and week. That she wouldn’t worry about what’s happening at court tomorrow for her. That she wouldn’t worry about where she’ll be welcome. The list of worries goes on. As if life isn’t hard enough, foster kids have to juggle social workers, CASA (court approved special advocates), attorneys, attorneys for special circumstances, court dates (where sometimes they spend all day in the court room), family visitation, therapy appointments, foster family support groups, etc… it’s a lot for anybody to handle, let alone a 10th grader.

There is a saying that goes “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.” Think about it, BE about it and have a great day!

N

 

Fostering

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My precious J’s,

You might remember a time when we opened our home to other foster kids. I don’t know if, when you read this, we will still be fostering. I hope so, but only time will tell.

A few months after we received you into our family, we had to start preparing to get our foster care license (Every foster family’s journey looks a little different. Sometimes it is required that the foster family have their license before receiving a child. But because we knew of you as friends of friends, we were an exception called “suitable others.”). As we attended classes and trainings our world was shook by the information of just how many kids there are in foster care and how the number of willing and able foster care homes available falls short of that number. That every night dozens of kids are displaced to sleep in offices or hotels under the supervision of social workers. Your Dad and I started to think that although our purpose is to be your forever parents, maybe we were also put here to provide a safe temporary home to other kids that may be on the path to reunification with their birth families. To help them heal, to be in a safe home, to experience the joys of family vacations, dinner together around the table, homework time, movie nights, bike rides, etc… Or perhaps to help a teen transition into the next phase of their life and gain independence with a little support. To be their cheerleader and remind them that they are worthy of and able to achieve any dream.

When a child is taken into protective custody, it is a traumatic experience. They did absolutely nothing to ask for or to deserve what’s happening to them. They may have witnessed a crime, or experienced some form of abuse or neglect. They have been separated from their parent or caretaker, and possibly even their sibling(s).  They may end up spending hours in an office while a social worker puts them into the system and tries to find them a willing and able foster home. It is the worst day of their life. Watch ReMoved, a powerful short film which follows a girl through the foster care system, starting with being taken into protective custody.

We have had the tremendous honor of being a safe landing pad for handfuls of kids taken into protective custody over the past six months. You both have been so amazing with sharing your parents, your puppies, your home and your toys with these kids as they transition to safety. And our therapist has held your hands and mine every step to process and to gain new skills as we make room in our hearts and home for these kids. You are deeply generous and have the most sincere hearts. I am so lucky and proud to be your Mom.

My wish for you throughout this journey on which our family has embarked, is that you find grace, not perfection. To know that you are worthy. You are enough. That you don’t have to chase Pinterest perfect anything. That your past doesn’t define you, that you don’t need to “try to measure up” to anything. That the good life is real, raw, slow, and rich with flaws. Take risks and know that we will be here to catch you.

You are loved more than you will ever know, my sweet boys.

I. Don’t. Like. You.

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Four words. Who knew that a 3 year old could bring me to my knees with these four simple words. “Uncle!” my heart cried, holding up the white flag. Nearly 90 minutes later and the sting is there. You didn’t mean it though, Little J. I know you don’t. I love you, I’m here for you, and nothing is going to change that.

… dinner tonight was a complete fail… you were mad at me for making you sit at the table and try something new. Stuffed peppers. “It’s Mexican pizza,” I lied, trying to convince you this would be your next favorite meal. After watching you poke at it with a fork, I stuffed some of the ground beef and seasoned rice filling into a tortilla along with slices of the bell pepper so that you could eat it like a taco. And you did… but you were suddenly filled with anger when it came time to finish dinner. So we gave you a time out to calm yourself down. You started shoving chairs, slamming cabinets and yelling. This is the first time I’ve seen you so angry. You were sent to bed for the rest of the night. At the top of your lungs you screamed “I don’t like you!!!” and stomped your feet down on each stair as you went up to your bedroom. Clenching my chest from the slide jab you delivered, I half whispered “You don’t mean it.” Oh my heart.

This became a teachable moment for your brother, Big J, who is 5 years old and remembers and relives the traumas you both have experienced. Life has been confusing for him as many changes have taken place. All you need to know is that you have a biological Mom and Dad that love you very much – they can’t make safe and healthy choices – so your family gave us you.

Life is messy and confusing, and things happen to us that we have no control over. But what we do have control over is how we react. Big J was just diagnosed with anxiety. When we first got you boys, Big J would clench his fist, his jaw, turn red in the face and shake with anger at the smallest changes / inconveniences for him; then he’d fall into a ball and cry hysterically. Over the past 6 months that we’ve had you, it’s been at least a month since his last meltdown (a huge increase from the early days when it happened several times a day). That’s progress.

Here are four words for you: I’M. NOT. LEAVING. YOU. I’m not leaving you. There’s nothing you can do to make my love for you disappear. So push boundaries my little dove. Raise hell. Get mad. Process your emotions. There is so much good ahead of you, I promise it won’t be this hard all the time. The future is bright!

Love you,

Nikki