Partnership with other foster parents

In training for foster care, there is a lot of discussion about relationships with birth families.  I'm very glad that this is a part of training and I always bring it up as a topic for more training and discussion.  But I didn't expect to be working together with other foster parents as much as I have.

Some connections come and go.  We've had a few connections with providing or needing respite.  Some have been more lasting, like a group I attend in which foster parents voice opinions and concerns of foster parents within the system.  There are support groups, an informal one I currently attend, an a formal one that was going, has stopped, and I'm helping to get going again.  There are online communities, answering questions and following stories, blogging and reading blogs.

The connections I didn't really expect are the ones that happen when foster parents share a case.  Because we foster one child at a time, many of our cases have involved siblings.  So, we do a lot of planning with other foster families.  We've planned sibling visits, sleepovers, parenting time schedules that work for everyone, and transitions to move a child.  Sometimes it's nice, with someone to chat about the kids with, and it's nice not to be the only foster parent attending court.  The end of visits can be crazy, though, with multiple kids going different directions.  Let's just say the conversation with birth parents I imagined when I went through training doesn't go so well when there are three foster families involved simultaneously picking up kids whose emotions are running high.

But sometimes it gets a little interesting.  What if your hopes and expectations of the case are different than another family?  What if another foster parent complains and expect you to agree, and you don't?  What if one foster family is advocating for biological family, and another foster family is more skeptical?  Ideally, we'd all be on the same page, but we all come from our own perspectives.  Thankfully, in almost every case, I've been confident that we all love the kids and want what's best for them.

Have you shared cases with other families?  How has your experience been?

First Day May 2015 - Playground tourism

Whew, this was a busy first day.  Dinosaur had a school performance (not pictured, as I had the little ones take 20 selfies to keep them busy but didn't manage a non-identifying picture) and Cricket had a visit, all with awkward timing that we had gaps of time to fill.  Since it was a nice day, that meant we did some playground touring: three different ones in one day.

Awkward Moments in Foster Care: Visit house

When we brought Cricket for her visit today (yep, she's still here), the visit house was a madhouse.  It was nice outside so one mother and daughter were playing outside, and the mom had brought outside toys for her daughter.  We're supposed to cut through the back yard to go into the house, so my kids all ran at the outside toys to play, not realizing they weren't brought for them.  Some bubble fluid might have been dumped and I felt awful. My kids also have a tough time understanding that the visit house has a lobby they should stay in while they wait, and they tend to roam like they're at a friend's house to play, and I lose track of someone with everyone coming and going.


So, amidst that chaos, a girl says, "Hi, Dinosaur."  He says hi back.  I realize she's a classmate of his, there for a family visit.  I tried to focus on my little kids so I wouldn't make eye contact or even look like I was trying to glance at the parent(s) she was visiting with.  I've been trying really hard to connect with other families at Dinosaur's school, but this was so not what I was hoping for.  No awkward conversations ensued, but still awkward vibes in the air.

Visit house

I mentioned awhile back (though I can't find the post at the moment) that our agency was moving from visits supervised at the agency office to visits at a house set up for that purpose.  It took awhile, but visits have started at the new visit house.




The downsides to visits at the agency were plentiful.  It is not a large office.  If a child is screaming in a visit room, the entire office hears it.  There were white noise machines set up, but it really couldn't help things.  Plus there was the chaos of a very small waiting area and people trying to do work just a few feet away in their cubicles.  The visit rooms at the agency, though well-equipped with toys, are very small.  I wouldn't want to spend an hour or more with my kids in one of those rooms, let alone with a child that is confused or upset the whole time.


So, now the agency has a house for most visits.  It has three rooms with toys that can be used for different visits, plus a kitchen if families want to use it.  It still needs a bit of work, but I think it's a great direction to be moving in.


Unfortunately, there are some downsides.  One is that it's way across town when the agency was less than 10 minutes away.  Right now our visit schedule is awful, with no ability to hang out on that side of town for an hour and a half because I need to pick up Dinosaur from school (in our neighborhood) in the middle of the visit.  So we are doing lots of driving and trying to figure out if we can get some transportation support to cut down on the madness.  I do think we were a bit spoiled over the last year with being able to zip over the agency in a few minutes and hang around at kid-friendly places with Rhinoceros and/or Dinosaur nearby, so I should accept that visits are just going to interrupt life horribly sometimes.


The other downside is that Cricket interprets the house to be somebody's house.  So far, I think she's just said it's her mom's house.  So, she is awfully confused when she has a visit with her dad, or when her mom didn't show up.  Plus, now she is asking to just go to her mom's house, because she has a concrete idea of where her mom is and wants to go there, even if we explain that she doesn't live there.


I think with time it may get easier, but man, foster care is full of surprises!

The end of a visit

 It's after office hours at the end of the visit, so Cricket's mom and the case aid come outside to the three waiting foster parents.  An infant bucket seat is transferred.  Cricket stands alone, and I take her hand.  She asks me to pick her up.


A few instructions, comments, and questions are given to all three families.  The kids wait quietly.

Cricket's mom gives a kiss goodbye to the older sister.  I lean Cricket in for a kiss goodbye.  But unfortunately, we walk off the same direction, so I can tell it hasn't sunk in for Cricket that she's going home with me, not her mom.

After several steps, we part ways, and she cries.  She cries a cry I will never forget, one I have heard several times by now.  She doesn't struggle to get free, but she reaches for her mommy as she walks her walk away.  Of course Cricket's mom is looking back at her child, helpless.  What can any of us say in that eye contact?  How does she stop herself from running back for one more kiss?  I am sure every nerve in her body wants to run to her daughter and take her out of my hands and run away.

Cricket is still crying in the car.  Still crying on the way home.  As I get out her dinner, she points to mandarin oranges and says she wants them.  Not part of the dinner plan, but of course she can have them.  She eats dinner while sitting in my lap.  I assign B to the other two and take time just to stick by Cricket, promising myself I'll give the boys one-on-one time sometime this weekend.

I intend to wind her down with some books, but it's clear she's tired.  My voice breaks a few times while reading a book of prayers for children, thinking about how her cares that are so much heavier than they should be for any child.  I'm trying to establish a bedtime routine that involves me saying goodnight and walking away just for five minutes or less, though she protests.  But I couldn't do it tonight.  I needed to stay by her side.  For her?  For me?  Many times I swear she's fallen asleep by the sound of her breathing, only to open my eyes to see hers looking back at me.  But it doesn't take extremely long tonight.

Lots of little things went wrong today or chipped away at my patience.  But that cry cut through my own issues, my own fears, my own blaming myself, and just told me to stop my thoughts and love this girl whose heart is breaking over and over.

Lesson Learned: Hair Care

If you think you might not be great at hair care for ethnic backgrounds different from your own, and you have trouble learning things without being physically shown, do not assume you can learn it all from the internet.  Do not assume that asking advice will be enough.  Ask someone to come help you.  Before the birth mom sees her daughter and tells you as her first words to you, "You don't know what to do with her hair, do you."

I thought I tried, or at least that it wasn't THAT bad.  I should have known to ask for more help.  I'm not even good at white girl hair.  My hair has been short for over a decade, and I have two sons.  I went home and sent a message to an adoptive mom that I think can help or at least point me to someone.  If that falls through, I know someone else who offered to help in the past, but I have to find her number again.

Between that and having to practically pry Cricket from her mom's arms to leave, with her wailing all the way out of the office, I am feeling low, small, and crushed in spirit.

Thank God I went to church on Sunday and was preached the truth about insecurities and having a spirit of fear.  I'm speaking those truths to myself over and over.  And just calling His name, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

Quiet week

It's so strange not to be bringing Caterpillar to visits while his mom is in jail, to have three visits per week wiped off the calendar.  We even canceled his first overnight visit at the relative's home because he had a fever yesterday morning.

We still have a home visit tomorrow, and I have work, Dinosaur has baseball, B has softball, so it's not overall quiet.  But it's foster care quiet.

Still no daycare set up.  It's Pterodactyl all over again.  I am having the relative schedule doctors' appointments for August by her schedule, so hopefully that means it'll happen by then?

It's not that I want to say goodbye.  It's the opposite.  I've accepted he's moving, that I won't get to see him crawl, babble, walk, etc.  That I won't see the end of the case, however it goes.  Now I just want it to happen on my timeline because that makes it easier for me to handle.  Less out of my control.

Breathe.  Give up my timeline.  I think I don't have one, and then it sneaks in.  Give up my illusion of control.  Enjoy sweet Caterpillar while he's here.  Know he's doing well with the transition so far.  Breathe.

Foster care triangle

Now that I'm in a case with more birth parent communication, I'm feeling a little stuck in a foster care triangle.  I want Caterpillar's mom that she has my support for reunification.  I will do my best to care for Caterpillar, and I will do my best to support their bond and relationship.  At the same time, that comes with limits.  I can't wait around indefinitely when she shows up late.  Unlimited grace on lateness is not good for anyone in the end, except maybe Caterpillar, as he still benefits from time with his mom.  The caseworker and case aide are very firm with lateness and set up a system where she needs to be half an hour early for the visit or I won't bring Caterpillar.  His mom is having some trouble with this system and is frustrated.  She tells me she's frustrated and wants to know how it inconveniences me.  I pass the buck back to the agency and tell her it's their rules.  At the same time, I know they are rules to help me, so I'm not entirely being sincere or supportive of my agency's authority.  Yet, I'm not sure how to communicate that, and I'm not sure if it's a good idea to do so.  I mostly listen, empathize a little but not a lot, change the topic to how Caterpillar is doing and how I know she wants to see him, and tell her I hope to see her at the next visit. 

Recently, a medical concern became a hexagon or some other crazy mess of lines: birth parent, foster parent, caseworker, old doctor, new doctor, pharmacist.  I'm still not sure I navigated that perfectly, but I did the best I could.

I remind myself that it's better when all these people care, even though it makes it difficult.  I've been in cases already when one point of the triangle didn't seem to care, and it's very sad.

In a couple weeks we have a foster parent support group on birth parent relationships.  I'll take notes and share them, as I feel like I could never learn enough on this topic.

Killing time during visits

Caterpillar has three one-hour visits per week, and the expectation is that I transport for them (though I do not supervise them).  Our other foster children have had similar visit schedules.  I am very fortunate that these visits usually mesh with my life pretty well when they wouldn't for other people.  In fact, that was one reason in favor of fostering babies and toddlers, as agencies that don't do much transportation for visits have a lot of trouble finding families who are willing to juggle three visits per week.  It works out all right for us because:

• I live less than ten minutes' drive from the agency.
• The agency is in a walkable downtown of a city.
• I like getting out of the house once a day anyway.
• Because my part-time work hours are in the evening, if I'm not available to transport, B usually is.
• When visits are scheduled during Rhinoceros's nap time and no other time can be found, the agency is willing to transport at least one way.

So, I thought I'd share what our during-visit time is like lately.  During the school year, I have Rhinoceros with me, and during school breaks, Dinosaur joins us as well.  Some options depend on weather.

Library - One library branch is a short walk from the agency.  We'd make routine visits here anyway, and a little under an hour is about perfect.

Museum - One child-friendly museum is a short walk away as well, so we have a membership and go regularly.


Lunch - Some of our visits have been during lunchtime, so we find a restaurant nearby and try to stretch it out to an hour (a little bit of a challenge with a 3-year-old, but we manage).
  
Farmer's Market - I wish there was one within walking distance because I hate getting in and out of the car, but it is a short, fun errand that I like to do in the summer.

Other errands - Occasionally we'll run a quick errand, but I try to avoid this because again it means getting in and out of the car so many times.

A snack and a walk - This is a new idea I tried out today.  We picked up a pastry and coffee and crossed the river downtown, then back via two different bridges.  Rhinoceros rode in the stroller some and walked some.

Honestly, I like the structure and miss it when we don't have a child placed with us.  Though our house does get a lot cleaner, and it's nice to stay at the museum for longer than 45 minutes.

Foster care dream

I had my first foster care dream last night (or this morning, as I caught a little more sleep between when Pterodactyl went back to sleep at 5:30 and when I had to get up at 7:00).  I was with Pterodactyl at her visit, sitting on the floor of the visit room while her mom held her.  Her mom had a friend with her, too, and they were just chatting with each other.  I chimed in now and then, and it was an atmosphere that was a little awkward but happy.  For whatever reason, I didn't have Rhinoceros with me like I usually do, and after a little while I left the visit room and was using a computer in one of the cubicles of the agency.  Then the CW that helped lead our initial foster care training came up to me and told me that she thought at first I wouldn't be a good foster parent because I was too much like a father figure (no, this didn't make sense) but now they were so glad I was with them.

So, a little weird, but overall a nice foster care dream, I'd say.

Compare to reality: Pterodactyl did have a visit today, and we headed on our way on snowy, icy roads.  I heard my cell phone ring and pulled over to listen to the message.  Her mom had cancelled earlier this morning, but didn't communicate it the way she was supposed to, so I was just finding out now.  We turned around and headed home.  I was grateful I didn't have to drive up and down the treacherous hill to the agency's parking lot, but sad for Pterodactyl and worried about her mother.  She didn't have any visits the week of Thanksgiving because we traveled with her, then last week her mom cancelled both.  Part of me is full of anger, unable to understand how someone would choose not to see their baby for two-and-a-half weeks.  Part of me knows what her mom struggles with, that she's not in a good place, and that she needs our prayers.

Still waiting for any information about her move to her grandma.  We leave for Canada for Christmas on the 21st.  I'm desperately trying to make things happen so that she is either with her grandma before then, or we have permission to take her with us, but it's completely out of my control besides bugging people about it.  I'm waiting until the end of the day for a reply from one person, and if I don't get one, tomorrow will have to be my first Call the Supervisor experience.

Fostering and newborns

We're still in a waiting mode.  The transition for Pterodactyl to move to her grandma should be complete, but now we're waiting on some bumps in the road with child care that the grandma needs to have set up before she moves in.

When we decided to do foster care, I had never heard of anyone fostering a newborn that they didn't adopt.  Our age range for fostering is 0-2, and our first placement happened to be a newborn.  In listening to others and thinking of our own experience, here are some distinct experiences of fostering a newborn.

Lots of doctor appointments
Newborns are always at the doctor.  Our agency even required an extra visit beyond what the doctor's office required.  This makes the first month extra busy, because the first month of foster care is busy on its own, and then you have all these doctor visits.

Lots of birth family visits
In our state, birth parents have three hours per week of visits with children under three.  These start as soon as possible, so I was bringing Pterodactyl to the agency at a little over a week old.

Child care complexities
Daycare centers won't accept infants younger than six weeks, so if you are working, you need an alternate child care plan that you can put into place immediately.  Listening to others, some take leaves of absence, some have a family member or friend who can fill in for day care for six weeks.  Many stay home.  I kind of stay home.  I have a part-time job three evenings per week while B is home with the kids, plus a few more hours that I do at home during naptimes or whatever.  So, I am set up well to take care of a newborn at the drop of a hat, although it did get complicated when I took on a little extra work and planned on using a babysitter.  Babysitters need to be cleared by the agency with a background check, and this didn't get completed before I started that work assignment.  I had to call on some favors from people we had cleared and B took a day or two off.

Few questions for birth parents
For better or for worse, older foster children and even older babies are used to how they were cared for before arriving in your home.  So, the first questions many foster parents ask birth parents if they get the opportunity is about how they took care of their kids: schedule, sleep, food, etc.  I had the opportunity to talk to Pterodactyl's birth mom, but no questions.  She had only parented her for two days.  The way I cared for her quickly became the only thing she had ever known.  This makes my job easier in some ways, but it adds a sad and difficult element.  I am easily the expert on what Pterodactyl likes and dislikes.  This puts me in an awkward position if I want to share helpful advice or even just tell about what Pterodactyl is doing lately.  We both know it's not just two moms talking.

Extra-pitying reactions from non-foster parents
Whenever I say Pterodactyl's age or that we got her as a newborn, the reactions are strong and full of sadness.  I'm sure the same people would be sad about any abuse or neglect, but with a tiny baby?  I am also sad for Pterodactyl, but I'm also relieved that she didn't go home with her birth mom at birth, as much as I want her to go home with her eventually if she can.  I don't want to start a conversation about her case that I can't finish, though, so I usually just stand there not really knowing what to say.  I usually just look at Pterodactyl and stroke her hair.

Extra difficult early weeks
I mentioned before that when I became a foster parent, I had to face the fact that I'm rather selfish.  This was especially true with mothering a newborn that I knew was unlikely to be a permanent part of our family.  With the exception of buying tiny clothes and nuzzling my nose into a newborn's head, the newborn phase is not my favorite.  I lose track of days and nights as time blurs together.  Everything is guessing, guessing, guessing; is that normal crying, or is something's wrong?  B has to help more during the night, and B gets tired and crabby.  My downtime in the evenings is gone.  All of these were true for Dinosaur and Rhinoceros as newborns, but there was something different.  I don't remember picturing them walking in their graduation ceremony or riding a bike for the first time or making me a Mother's Day card when they were screaming their heads off at 2 am at five weeks old.  But I must have, subconsciously.  I kept looking at Pterodactyl while she cried, thinking, are we even going to see her come out of this phase?  Are we even going to see a smile?  Why are we doing this again?  Though I don't like to admit it, it was damn hard.  I would do it again, though I'm not sure how many times.  B thinks he has a limit on the number of times he can go through the newborn phase.  I think I do, too, but I don't think I've reached it yet.

She did smile, though.  And as if she knew we hadn't learned our lesson yet that this isn't about us and babies entertaining us, she smiled rarely.  She knows us and loves us, and yet she still gives us the "Are you people crazy?" look constantly.  And we kind of have to be.  She needed us to be.

Visit to visit

Pterodactyl should have had a visit with her birth mom yesterday.  Her birth mom canceled it ahead of time because of a doctor's appointment.  I haven't written down how many times they've been canceled due to having another appointment, but it has to be at least five times in the past five months.  Either there's a serious medical condition I'm not aware of or she is cancelling visits unnecessarily.  By the tone of the case worker's voice when they relay the cancellations to me, I assume the latter.

I don't like assuming any of that.  There's nothing productive in me rolling my eyes when a visit is canceled.  When I read about birth parents missing visits before we had a placement, I felt the foster parents were being judgmental of the birth parents by complaining about missed visits, especially in cases like mine when Pterodactyl isn't even old enough to know that she had a visit planned.

I thought I wasn't a judgmental person.  Honestly, I know I have plenty of flaws, I am told by others that this is one of my strengths.  I can put myself in someone else's shoes.  I have an extra dose of empathy.  I thought that this part of foster parenting would be easy.  It would be more difficult for my husband, and he would have other strengths to bring to foster parenting.

Then I became a foster parent.

I am still always trying to put myself in her shoes.  I am telling myself I don't know the whole story.  But there's something about the practice of mothering that erodes my efforts not to judge.  I make sure Pterodactyl wakes up at the right time so that her schedule is on track because I don't want her to need a nap during the visit.  I put on her clothes, picking out an outfit that her birth mom would like.  I plan my errands and activities around the visit.  I am hopeful, but I'm also waiting for the phone to ring.  It does, and plans change.  I look at the clothes on her and feel sad her birth mom won't see them.  I'm grateful for the freedom in my schedule, and feel guilty at feeling happy about that freedom.  The next visit day, I have a plan A and a plan B for whether or not her birth mom will stick with her commitment to visits.  I don't like the plan B mentality, especially as plan B usually makes me happier because there's more freedom to do what I want.  I don't want her failure to meet her commitment to make me happy.  That's another trait I thought I possessed a little more than the average person: unselfishness.  Then I became a foster parent.

Then there's the other kinds of visits, as we scheduled Pterodactyl's first overnight visit with her grandma.  I'm glad it's happening because I want the momentum to keep going in this transition.  The grandma was so positive about the last visit, and I'm happy for her and Pterodactyl's brothers.  I know it'll be the first glimpse of what life is like accepting she's moved on.  The uncertainty here is that we still don't have an official date for when she is moving.  Living life, visit to visit.