It's bittersweet

It's Foster Care awareness month.  We've been a certified foster home for a little over 2 years and the one word I can use to describe the entire process is: Bittersweet.

Here is just a quick list with some examples:

- We got a precious new baby in our home!  We see the sweet smile and are so happy to have him.  We then learn where he came from and remember that someone is missing him.  It's bittersweet.

- The social workers found family members interested in a relationship with the baby.  A part of me is happy for him to be connected.  But what will this mean for our family dynamic?  It's bittersweet.

- The baby reached for me from the biological family today after visitation.  A tiny celebration happens inside of me.  Then I'm scolding myself.  It's all very awkward.  And bittersweet.

- The baby reached out for the biological family today when we dropped him off at visitation.  It hurts. But isn't this why we're doing it?  It's bittersweet.

- The baby called me "Mama" today.  All the feels.  Bittersweet indeed. 

- Someone missed the court hearing.  I'm angry and disappointed.  How could you not fight for this baby?  But then a tiny piece of me is relieved.  I'm here and I'll fight.  It's bittersweet.

- The judge says the baby can stay with us a little while longer.  Immediately our hearts rejoice.  Then we remember everyone else involved and again, it's bittersweet.

- We're jumping on the trampoline one evening and Cailin says "I'd be so happy if we could adopt him...but won't his mom be so sad?"  Even for a 5 year old foster sibling, it's bittersweet.

- It's Mother's Day.  The baby joins his foster siblings in yelling "Happy Mother's Day!" to me.  I then record him saying it again, to send to his birth mother so she'll have something to observe the day.  It is bittersweet.  

In foster care, there's joy right alongside the heartbreak.  It's all so bittersweet.  

Foster Care Awareness Month

In honor of Foster Care Awareness month, here's what Foster Care looks like in our home:

I have to assume that everything I do is scrutinized. As examples:

• Can I send a pink spoon with his lunch on visitation days?  Will they think girly hand-me-downs mean I don't love him
• On visit days, I ensure Baby wears clothes from the family he visits so they know we appreciate what they're doing for him.  Then I worry they think we haven't bought him any of his own clothes and he is just rotating through the same 3 outfits on repeat

Having a child of another race is it's own eye-opening experience for me:                 

• Racism in the media / news / real-world is a lot more personal / visible / terrifying to me now
• I have friends who are my Hair / Skin care experts for Baby.  Their hair and skin looks like Baby's
• Baby doesn't look like us.  Some people try to figure out the connection.  Some people make awkward comments.  Many people stare
• I love to dress the boys alike.  But is this "too white" for Baby?

                  

Early on, someone told us that the hard part of foster care was not the babies, but the adults.  This is very true:             

• We go to court every few months.  We sit in a waiting room surrounded by a bunch of people we don’t know and pretend it's not all kinds of awkward.  The judge may ask us for an update but not always.  You can just guess how we feel when we're not asked.
• There are a regular stream of visitors to our house (the CASA, the social worker, the baby’s lawyer).  On those days, I have to plan simple meals that can be cleaned before anyone else shows up and I shoo as many of the other kids upstairs as possible.  In general, I'm a firm believer in "What you see is what you get" and I don't have people over that I feel compelled to clean for (I can't be bothered with that anymore).  But, if someone who has the power to decide Baby's future, is only going to see me for 1 hour a week, it needs to be one awesome hour.

Not being able to share Baby's cuteness and accomplishments on social media is a struggle for me.  I am proud of who he is and it feels fake to exclude him from my posts.

We have heard "I don't think I could do what you do.  I could never love a child and then give him back" hundreds of times.  Please don't say this to foster parents.  It feels like you are implying one or both of the following:
1. You'd love the child more than I do
2. I'll have no problems giving up a child I've been raising as my own

Our friends / community take care of us.  We get hand-me-downs for both boys and it's such a blessing.  People we don't know hear we're foster parents and show up with clothes and toys for our kids (all 4, not just Baby).  Friends and neighbors drive my girls to / from school, practice, and playdates.  

The older three kids are such troopers about foster care:

• Matthew is blissfully unaware that we're “just” fostering Baby.  Every day he says, "That's my Baby.  He's mine."  He often asks to snuggle him.  Last Sunday, he insisted on leaving his Sunday School class in order to go soothe Baby in the nursery when he was upset.  While eating lunch this weekend, Matthew said "That my [baby].  He my friend.  Him little."
• While the girls would like to adopt Baby, they understand that the intention of foster care is for Baby to return to his birth family and that it is not our decision to make.  Even if he lives somewhere else long term, the girls "just want to go to all of his birthday parties."   

THIS is always on my mind:

                   

I helped "my" Baby make a Mother's Day card for another woman yesterday.     
                    


Baby's not always easy.  He cries.  He tantrums.  He teethes.  He gets sick.

The system is hard.  And frustrating.  And, oh my heaven, is it slow.  We don't like it.

But we love him.

Cailin Hope - 4.5

Oh sweet girl, I totally missed the 4 year old post.  So we are celebrating who you are at this precious age of 4.5!

You continue to be a very active, upbeat kid.  You have sorted our family into "Louds" and "Quiets" and placed yourself on the Loud team (with Dada and Matthew).  You love to sing, dance, dress up, and perform. You use one volume and it is just so loud.  When you're wearing headphones, you yell and you have no awareness of it.  It's simultaneously hilarious and headache-inducing.  Daddy, another Loud, finds it endearing.

You and Daddy have such a sweet bedtime routine these days.  You turn off the overhead light and use your nightlight to read books while snuggled under the covers.  After books, he sings you the "Cailin" song (by Unwritten Law) and you now know most of the words.

You are beginning to ride a 2-wheeler!  You've figured out how to balance and how to stop, so all that's left to learn, is how to start unassisted.

You chose to take Soccer this spring, purely to be with your buddy Carys (thanks to constant rainy weekends, little soccer has actually been played).  If asked, you'd list Maura as your best friend, but really, I think we all know you and Carys are BFFs.  Potentially even soulmates.  Your favorite activities are emptying closets, dressing up (in each others' clothes), eating snacks, and being loud.

You are wrapping up your 3-year-old preschool year and it's been such a fantastic fit for you.  The messy art projects, the magnifying glasses for Science, and the silly music teacher have really made this year fun.  Your teachers regularly remark that you could teach the class.  Your favorite part of school is when it's your turn to be the Leader of the Day - and the best part of that is you don't have to clean up, cause you're in charge of the rain stick.  I feel ya kid.  Cleaning up is the worst.  You've surprised us lately with your alphabet and number knowledge.  Charlotte is apparently teaching you everything when we're not looking.

You don't like pizza.  And rarely eat french fries.  It's so bizarre.  You do like pasta, peanut butter, fruit and all kinds of sweets.  You watch the clock in the afternoon and know that at 3pm you can start having a snack.  You independently grab a granola bar and some fruit and set yourself up at the table.

You and Matthew have become closer this past year.  You are both wildly imaginative and you play off of each others' fun ideas.  You guys love to paint together while Baby sleeps and Charlotte is at school.  You both love music and you often make up songs about what you're doing.

I apologize for missing the 4 year old post.  Thankfully, I know you'll say "That's ok Mama" and move right along.  Nothing phases you.  I'm seeing this as a blessing more and more.  A friend recently pointed out that when you are a teenager and someone tries to encourage you to make a bad choice, you'll confidently decline and move on.  And probably judge them.  Loudly.  Because you are YOU, and no one can change that.  I love you Baby Hope and am so proud of who you are and who you're becoming.

All the love,
Mama

"Baby" Matthew is 2!

Matthew,

You are 2!  In every sense of the word.  Your favorite words are "NO!" and "MINE".  You refer to yourself as a "Big kid" and prefer to avoid the high chair and stroller whenever possible.  Every morning, as we put coats on to prepare for school, you say "I walk!  I walk!  I walk?", with a look that says "Pleeeeease don't put me in that stroller."  Your language is on par with your very verbal sisters.

You like to keep track of the family: "My daddy at work, Baby night night, Charlotte school, Cailin school."  You love being one of many children.  You know no other but I'm confident you enjoy being surrounded by your siblings.  You try your hardest to keep up with the girls (and when you can't, you set out to ruin their activity).  As Baby is now getting older, you guys are starting to play together too.  Your favorite toy is currently the train sets.  You set up the tracks (with help), turn on the motorized train, put your thumb in your mouth and watch the train circle the track.  

You love to eat.  Almost as much as you enjoy milk.  You still drink soy milk and we avoid dairy due to the allergy but you manage to steal some mac n cheese any time the girls happen to have some.  Your favorite foods include oatmeal, hot dogs, oranges and spaghetti.  You hate chocolate.  You will bite into an m&m and spit it out as though someone just tried to poison you.  

You keep up with the big kids and (only because I'm now reflecting, I realize), you don't have many friends your age (due to lack of exposure...and being 2).  You are tough and should you happen to fall, you dust yourself off and charge on.  You do well in all childcare settings whether sorted by age or in a mixed group.  You adore the kids across the street and have no need for extra toddler friends since you can "play" basketball with a big 7 year old.  

You are the product of 2 big sisters.  You have a favorite tutu.  You like lip gloss.  You can name the Disney princesses.  When Charlotte asked, "Do you want to have an Olaf birthday?" you replied "No, I want a Cinderella birthday."  I hope you are also sensitive and empathetic in the future, as a result of these little ladies' influence.  

You suck your thumb all day long.  You are a snuggler.  You climb into my lap, lay your head on my shoulder and put your thumb in your mouth.  It's the sweetest.  You love to read stories on laps.  One of my favorite phrases to hear is "Read another one, Charlotte?" as you sit with your big sister.  Your current favorite book is a lift-the-flap Truck book from your sweet (age-appropriate) friend Collette.  

You share a room with Baby.  You look for him before and after sleeps and you bring him his blankee when you get yours.  You are blissfully unaware that he may not be a part of our forever family.  I pray I don't have to figure out how you'll react if he's not.  The thought of that just wrecks me.  You were bumped from the "baby" role very early in your little life and you have embraced that with surprising grace and ease.  Thank you for loving Baby and welcoming him the way you have.  

We love you little Buddy.  Even when you bite or knock over our towers or throw your food on the floor (because Baby suggested that might be a good idea).  Happy 2nd Birthday!

All the love,

Mama 

Today

Today was hard.  So freaking hard.  And unfortunately that's about all I can publicly share.

We were warned in training about the difficulties of the foster care process.  Anyone can predict the awkardness that might ensue from parenting someone else's child.  But nothing could prepare me for the look Baby gave me when I handed him over to a room full of unfamiliar people.  Nothing could prepare my ears for the way he cried.  And absolutely nothing can prepare my heart for when this transition lasts more than a few hours.

"What's he call you?"

I hate that I don't have a clear answer to that.

What do you have a baby call you who sleeps in your home and has stolen your heart?  When phrased this way, the answer seems so obvious.  But nothing is so simple in Foster Care.

In the beginning, we agreed on 'Mama Debbi' and 'Dada Matt'.  But that feels so odd and unnatural.  I don't want to treat Baby differently.  But there's a subtle reminder in attaching our names that I think I may need.  We are so in love and settled with our current reality, that I worry the kids may forget about the uncertainty of the future, as I know I have.

Last week, Charlotte told her teacher she had 3 siblings.  I quietly attached an extra sheet on her Getting to Know You form to explain our "situation."  I began to worry we hadn't done well enough describing foster care to our kids.  But then Matt overheard the girls talking: "Right now, we have 4 kids.  When Baby Boy goes to live with his family, we'll have 3 kids again.  He might stay with us for a long time.  Baby Girl is going to stay with her Foster Mom until it is safe for her to go back home..."  THEY GET IT.  They truly do.  And yet,

the unknown future doesn't keep my kids from fiercely loving this amazing little guy.

So where does that leave me?  I still don't know.  As with all hard parenting decisions, I'll probably make the kids decide.

Cailin's first week as a Lizard

Cailin has proudly boasted that she is going to PRESCHOOL! every time someone mentioned Charlotte starting kindergarten.  To no one's surprise, Cailin entered "the Lizard class" dry-eyed and ready.  Her teachers have already reported that she could teach the class.  On day 2, it was her turn to be the Leader of the Day.  She took on all the important roles like shaking the rain stick for clean up time, passing out supplies, and reporting the weather.  She is going 3 days a week and is so proud to eat lunch in the preschool cafeteria (just like big sister is doing over in kindergarten).  Things are different with Cailin as the oldest at home now, but she and Matthew are managing okay.

Checking in

Excited for pick-up

First day surprises

First day date

Cailin was so busy with her Leader of the Day
responsibilities, Matthew stood in for the picture

Matthew subs in for Charlotte