fostering together

1:30am

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It’s 1:30am on a Saturday. I should be sleeping. Want to know why I am still awake? Because we just had a family meeting. Family meeting around the kitchen island with our sixteen year old foster daughter after I caught her trying to sneak out of my house to go to a party. Stalker mode, huddled in the corner, on the floor of my own  kitchen, in the dark, I caught her in the act of orchestrating her sneak out. (Side note, at what point do we parents become these lame idiots that our kids think us to be? I know when something isn’t right. And even if I didn’t, thanks to ARLO, I would have been notified the moment she stepped out of the house, regardless of which egress.)
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When I confronted her, she said I was mistaken. Her poker face is so good. Unfortunately there have been times in her life where she’s had to lie to survive. She’s a pro at lies and building walls and keeping people at an arm’s length (I think we are so perfectly matched because my husband and I specialize in remodels. We do the hard work of knocking walls down. Seeing the potential.) I showed her copies of her texts and videos proving otherwise, she fessed up (after lying to me six or seven times), and then we sat at the kitchen island and talked.

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ALL THE GUILT TRIPS. Moms, if you are reading this, this is where we were made to shine. Spread it on thick. Get your shine on.
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“I started a support group for foster moms last week. And one of my mom’s shared with me that she has a fifteen year old foster daughter who was recently abducted. She thought she was going to a harmless high school party and she was abducted, shot up with methamphetamine and trafficked. This girl will never be the same. She’s addicted. One mistake and her life is upside down. What if…?”
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“What if something had happened to you? I WOULD DIE!!! That 17 year old punk who was going to pick you up at 11:45pm, what if on the way home at 3am he lost control of his car and you ended up severely injured, paralyzed or dead?”
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“What if the police ended up at this party and you were caught trying a beer or a shot or a hit of something? You don’t have permanent residency in this country yet… what if you lost the opportunity due to something stupid like this? What if it ruined your educational and employment goals!?”
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There were more… but you get the point…. all the guilt trips. All of them. They were legendary.
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Here’s the deal, sweet girl. We love you. We want more for you. We wouldn’t be here at 1:30 in the morning if we didn’t. This is what parents do. I know you feel uncomfortable. You feel shame, and sadness, maybe a little anger.  Probably scared about whether we will still love you, whether you will still have a place in my home, all the burdensome foster thoughts you carry with you. Maybe right now you are wondering what your birth mom would say or do if she were here to handle this. Why aren’t they yelling or breaking things or hurting me or telling me I’m unworthy? We got this. We got you. We care so freaking much. We are here for you. You deserve every opportunity to succeed. Aside from murder and a couple other big ones, there really isn’t anything you can do that would make us stop loving you. And not to condone murder or anything, but I’d probably throw some money on your canteen account, accept a collect call or two, and visit. So as long as you feel happy, safe, loved, comfortable in our home and family, here you will stay.

The Neediest Child

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I love all my children. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep them safe. I enjoy them – watching them learn and grow and adventuring with them. It’s so cool to see how far each one of them have come. How unique each child is and how together we create this family.

There is a child in my pack that pushes my every button. It seems like every minute he’s doing something to get negative attention. It’s non stop and some days I feel like I’m about to lose my ever-loving mind. His voice reaches an octave that makes me want to chew on glass and run with scissors. He will wake up at 3am to go potty and then will decide to wake the entire house up and have a party. He won’t follow simple directions. He makes unsafe choices that make it hard to trust him. When he pees all over the toilet and bathroom floor, when he’s clumsy and breaks something of mine, when he lets the shower curtain drip water all over my bathroom floor, when he leaves the car door open all night and the batter dies, when when when… over and over and over again – I feel like he’s punishing me. I know it’s not rational. It’s trauma. The scars of severe neglect. I’m struggling. And so is he. At school he has started this thing where he’ll retaliate against his teacher by wetting his pants if he’s asked to wait a few minutes before using the restroom. He’s now no longer allowed to use the restroom alone because he violated another student’s privacy by crawling under the bathroom stall… the other student happened to be wiping at that moment and startled, got his feces on my son. It was quite literally a shit show. Once a star student, he’s refusing to do his work and disrupting his class.

It’s exhausting and I am having a hard time not feeling resentful this season. There is so much shame and sadness around this issue.

There’s no Idiot’s Guide to Fostering and Adoption. Or maybe there is and I didn’t read it? Lol. Nobody told me that there would be scenarios like this (or that laundry would be a 24/7 cycle). I don’t feel as bonded with this child. There’s a click that’s missing. He’s 7 and talks like a baby and wants to curl up and have me hold him like a baby. And I feel like such a bad mom because I’m not getting it or don’t have the emotional capacity to be what he needs in those moments. Some days I fantasize about him growing up as an only child in another woman’s home. I truly believe he should be an only child and would thrive. That he’s been so neglected, he worries that there isn’t enough love or attention or food or whatever for him. But there’s no chance of single childhood happening. If I ever recommended the thought to a social worker, we’d risk the powers that be coming in, taking the sibling group and them possibly bouncing around many homes again, separated like they were before. This child has huge trauma and people who know trauma and kids know that the kids who need the most love often ask for it in the most unloving ways. Knowing he went through a dozen homes before he walked through my door, in April of 2018, I can’t let him go through that again. I won’t let it happen.

I’ve been hearing from other foster and adoptive moms who have had similar experiences and it’s so encouraging to know I’m not alone. I’m not giving up on this kid. I truly believe these behaviors and issues will pass and things will get better for our family. More importantly, things will get better for him.

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

Respite

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*Note – in no way is this post meant to criticize or put down any foster parents who use respite. Respite is important. Also in no way is this post meant to put down or pressure my family and friends for not watching our kids… because you’d have to be CRAZY! LOL

Let’s talk about respite care. Respite care is planned or emergency care of a a foster child or children. It’s a program designed to give the caregiver a temporary break. Perhaps they have a vacation or need to go out of town for a funeral, or they just need a weekend “off.” I don’t know all the details but I believe foster caregivers accumulate 2 respite nights per month cycle and can schedule respite a week or so in advance through their social worker.  The respite care providers are licensed foster parents who usually just do respite care (they decide how often and can say no to any requests). We’ve never used respite. I just can’t justify it. If I am called to love this child as my own, whether temporary or forever, then how can I be okay with dropping them off at a stranger’s house for a day or a weekend or a week? It doesn’t feel right. I wouldn’t be okay with that if it were my bio child. And since my kids all have anxiety and abandonment issues I feel as though a respite arrangement would create further episodes of anxiety and feeling abandoned. Foster parents don’t usually have personal relationships with the respite care providers. I would be okay with leaving my children (probably dividing them) with family or friends though. People I know, like and trust. I’m not trying to take an “anti respite” stance, rather explain to you where my thoughts are and why I’ve never been able to use respite services. There is no shame in using respite.

I 100% understand why foster parents seek respite. Burn out. Family death. The child in their care is pushing them too hard and they need a mental health day. Planned vacation before that child came into care. Work trip. ETC…

There have been many times when I’ve wished I had a better support system (friends and family, I love you dearly, please don’t feel bad about this. 6 kids is A LOT. I get it. Your house cleaner just came yesterday and you want to savor the next few days of freshness. You don’t like noise. You’ve already raised your kids. Your car isn’t big enough. You too are burning fuel at both ends. It’s life. You didn’t sign up for this, we did.) Many times. There have been times when I feel like I’ve been really clear to family members that “Hey, I need help here. I need a break. Take a kid. Take two. Take them all. PLEASE!” and it’s gone unanswered. Sometimes it hurts my feelings. Sometimes it makes me jealous and I keep score and feel resentful. I try so hard not to go there.

If I could rewind the clock to a year ago or a year and a half ago, I would have asked our social worker to help connect us with someone who does respite. You know, let us introduce our kids, take them to dinner, and help our kids build a connection with respite foster parents. That way we could have planned some downtime and felt comfortable asking for help when the burden has been heavy. We also never planned to adopt all 5. Our sibling set of 3 was only ever going to be temporary. And they had such huge emotional and behavioral issues that made it hard to even consider disrupting them. I remember thinking 3 months into our placement with these kids that an “end was in site.” We kept taking all these “last vacations” thinking our time with them was limited. I’d get rest once I knew they were safely reunified. LOL… my spa day never came!

There’s an isolating component to fostering that I don’t think anybody knows about until they actually foster. It’s very isolating. It’s a roller coaster. People see you differently. Aside from the major changes in priorities and routines, people tend to put us in the “Saint” category or the “Crazy” category. I want to encourage you, if you are fostering, to make a plan for finding down time and self care when things get hard. When you feel alone. Approach your friends and family, or connect with your social worker about respite. Do it before you are “too far down the line” and riddled by guilt and stress.

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

Redacted Files

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These two thumbdrives, given to me this afternoon (August 28, 2019) by our Adoption Social Worker, possess the entire histories of our 5 children. Detailed compilations of their trauma, how they came into foster care, vital records, birth records, CPS intake calls from strangers, maybe even family, legal records, case notes, notes from CASAs, etc… Their stories before they were mine. A formality in the process of adoption, this is the State’s way of giving an adoptive parent every piece of information they need to make an educated decision as to whether to complete the adoption of their child. It’s called the Redacted File or Disclosures. Redacted because a professional whose sole job for the State is to sit down and black out any names or addresses or contact information listed in the records, probably spent ten hours sifting through the lives of my babies, blacking out names of birth family, former foster parents and other placements, and any information that they deem necessary to keep private. (Yeah, let that sink in next time you want to complain about your job. Someone’s full time job is pretty much whiting out documents.)

Do I really need to look at these? I don’t think that there is anything we could discover about our kids that would change our minds about adopting them. We’ve seen all the behaviors. We’ve lived this life. We know we have an uphill journey. Adoption isn’t a cure for our kids’ past trauma, for the neglect or abuse or exposure to drugs in utero.  We know that the clock is ticking for two of our kiddos – that therapy and medical interventions need to happen NOW and be consistent so that they don’t repeat the cycle ahead of them. What could we possibly discover that we don’t already know about our kids. We love them so so much!!

Aren’t you afraid your kids will end up like their birth parents? I’ll admit, and I’m ashamed to say this but… YES. I am. What if I invest my whole heart and life and every resource I have into giving them a good life and they choose to follow their birth parents’ footsteps. Heroine. Meth. Crime. Homelessness. Domestic Violence. The thing is, there is no guarantee. Drug addiction doesn’t discriminate, white picket fence or not. Although some of the trauma and experiences my kids have had to walk through may predispose them to certain certain struggles, there is hope. And a future (Jer 29:11). I only have ten more years until my  “first born” is an adult. I can’t have strings attached like I’ll only love you if you don’t struggle with drug addiction, suicidal ideation, and depression. 

Will reading the files on these thumbdrives help me understand my children better? Should these thumbdrives be saved for when our kids are adults and have questions? There are so many thoughts.

I feel reluctant to open these files.

Like most decisions made in our household, Mauricio and I will sit down together tonight and discuss the pros and cons to opening these thumb drives. And then we’ll do it together. Knowing how broken our system is, I’m expecting there to be a lot of heart breaking details on these drives – handfuls of foster homes, CPS intakes, police reports, children returned to situations of neglect and abuse, concerning behaviors, emails between the Department, etc… It will break us. I know it will. We don’t need the beginning of their story to change the ending. But we’d do anything to give them a redo and be able to take away the challenges they’ve faced and will continue to face as they grow older.

 

All Rise for the Good of the Children

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all rise for the good of the children

The goal for foster care is always family reunification. There are barriers preventing a child from living with their parent – drug and alcohol abuse, domestic violence, mental health, illness, child endangerment, death, prison, abandonment, etc… The child is placed with a foster family with the hope that their birth parent will get treatment, complete their sentence, parenting classes, counseling or whatever listed steps they are required to complete in order to regain custody of their child. When the State has exhausted proper channels for pursuing reunification (they usually give the parent a couple of years or more to get it together), then alternatives like adoption become the goal. This is how we became adoptive placement for our 5 kids.

“ALL RISE For the Good of the Children takes you inside the courtroom of an unconventional judge in East Texas who takes a trust-based, trauma-informed approach to healing broken families in the child welfare system. Two families share how their lives were transformed through the support and intervention offered by Judge Carole Clark and her team of lawyers, mental health experts and child advocates.”

Click HERE to watch the documentary (it’s free and really, really good!).

 

Struggling to Bond with a Child Doesn’t Make You a Bad Person

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If you are a foster parent and you find it hard to bond with a foster child in your care, you are not a bad person. It is not wrong to struggle and face obstacles. What is wrong is treating a child differently than others in your care, giving them less affection or opportunities because of how hard they are to bond with. Kids with trauma are hard. Some of these kids have experienced so much neglect or abuse that they haven’t learned something that would otherwise be common sense for the average child their age. That’s why they are with you. So it’s okay if you find yourself feeling completely worn out by that child’s emotional immaturity or because they are 6 years old and can’t dress themselves or they obsess about food or they have a hard time paying attention or because teaching them about hygiene and getting them to take frequent showers feels like an enormous burden. Just remember that it’s not their fault and that they aren’t intentionally trying to make things hard for you. Try to avoid thinking in terms of “behaving badly” but recognize this as they are having a hard time. And don’t let your frustration show. How blessed are we, that we get to love on and help a child become more independent?!? That is the goal… to help a child become as independent as possible, knowing they might be returned to a situation of neglect.

As a foster parent I have been so blessed to bond with and genuinely love every child that has come into my care. My husband feels very much the same. That’s not to say we haven’t struggled or suffered. Because we have. We’ve had kids come into our home that have had us saying (more like whispering in the privacy of our bedroom) “what were we thinking?” “Can we really do this?” “Why wouldn’t the placement desk inform us of this issue?”

Remember YOU are amazing! YOU provide safety and hope. YOU have opened your heart and your home to a child in need. YOU can do hard things! YOU can love a difficult child. Keep up the hard work, YOU! YOU are creating change. ❤️

 

 

 

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…”