Something made me stop and think the other day about how the dates lined up. Were we foster parents yet when Crocodile was born? I thought through the timelines, and no, we were a couple weeks away from being licensed.
So, I thought more about April 2013.
Dinosaur was 4. Rhinoceros was 2. I didn't have a child in elementary school yet.
We were stressing over licensing details, even though the process had been pretty smooth. What on earth could we have found stressful in that? It's hard to understand now. I was teaching in the evenings and B was working at his old company.
Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar were not born yet.
Cricket was a couple months old. Was her sister taking care of her? Her grandma that had her own issues? Had she met Gina yet, her fictive kin "granny" that would eventually adopt her? What did she look like? I never saw baby pictures of her.
Crocodile was born. It would reveal too much of his story to tell what I know about April 2013 and Crocodile. It was a hopeful time following tragedy, but some were still tentative about that hope. And unfortunately that hope was fleeting. I have seen baby pictures of him, true newborn pictures that I was quick to save from Facebook and would later send on to his adoptive family. He looks like your basic newborn, and his face changed a lot from his newborn face. Still precious, though.
Now it's April 2017.
Dinosaur is 8. Rhinoceros is 6. They're both in elementary school. They have been big brothers to five children and said five goodbyes. They have helped, fought with, taught, played with, ignored, cuddled, and loved those five children.
I am teaching part-time during the day and B works at a new company, similar hours.
Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar, and Tadpole are all 3 or 4 years old. I assume Pterodactyl and Beetle were adopted by the families they moved to, but was never told for sure. I am even less sure about Caterpillar. Tadpole was adopted by his foster family he was with when we did respite, and I've seen him several times since.
Cricket is 5. She has been adopted with her sister. She'll be in kindergarten this fall.
Crocodile is 4 and is living with his new parents and five sisters, two that were there when he was that newborn in April 2013. Hopefully they will finalize adoption this year. I wonder and worry about those hopeful people in his life in April 2013. I pray redemption is still ahead.
Showing posts with label cricket. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cricket. Show all posts
Sunday, April 2, 2017
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Beach time
All of our foster children have had older siblings, and all of them have had neglect and the foster care system impact them more deeply than the little ones in our care. This isn't say that our little ones haven't experienced loss and fear. Early trauma and separation are real. But so far, the older ones have always lost more, feared more. They remember the violence. They remember the broken promises. They remember the times their mom or dad couldn't take care of them and someone else had to. Sometimes they've told me. And they are scared for their younger siblings. They worry about them.
All of that melts away when they're just kids playing on a beach. A brother and two sisters. Crocodile is normally very hesitant near the water (pretty much the only time he's hesitant about physical activity), but I don't know if it was the presence of his sisters or what, but he just ran right in. They splashed him, he splashed them, and they shouted and screamed. These kids are very, very loud. I'm so glad it's summer. They pushed and pulled either other around on an inflatable alligator. They dumped cups of water on each others' heads. Even though I described their lives as being different above, they're all three so small.
It's joyful.
It's bittersweet. This shouldn't be a "bonding time." This should just be their lives. I remember thinking the same thing when Cricket's sister came for a sleepover and Cricket chatted incessantly as they went to sleep. This should just be another Saturday night.
Thankfully, their separation ended, though adoption is still not final and I am nervous until it is, especially since they are half-siblings, so there are relatives that could separate them.
I pray that the separation ends for Crocodile and his sisters. There are at least two ways that it could, but they are not guaranteed.
I shouldn't picture the future. I know I shouldn't. But in my mind it goes like this: Crocodile moves to one of those next steps with his sisters. We become open for two kids, a sibling set only. What if there are sets of three, four, five? Or lots of babies later? As much as I wish sometimes we could, we know we aren't the family that can take them, so I know this doesn't solve everything. But maybe, just maybe, it will work out that the right sibling set at the right time would end up in our home. And we could keep them together and they would never be separated.
Maybe we could just have beach time, in the middle of foster care, and beyond, like a regular Saturday.
All of that melts away when they're just kids playing on a beach. A brother and two sisters. Crocodile is normally very hesitant near the water (pretty much the only time he's hesitant about physical activity), but I don't know if it was the presence of his sisters or what, but he just ran right in. They splashed him, he splashed them, and they shouted and screamed. These kids are very, very loud. I'm so glad it's summer. They pushed and pulled either other around on an inflatable alligator. They dumped cups of water on each others' heads. Even though I described their lives as being different above, they're all three so small.
It's joyful.
It's bittersweet. This shouldn't be a "bonding time." This should just be their lives. I remember thinking the same thing when Cricket's sister came for a sleepover and Cricket chatted incessantly as they went to sleep. This should just be another Saturday night.
Thankfully, their separation ended, though adoption is still not final and I am nervous until it is, especially since they are half-siblings, so there are relatives that could separate them.
I pray that the separation ends for Crocodile and his sisters. There are at least two ways that it could, but they are not guaranteed.
I shouldn't picture the future. I know I shouldn't. But in my mind it goes like this: Crocodile moves to one of those next steps with his sisters. We become open for two kids, a sibling set only. What if there are sets of three, four, five? Or lots of babies later? As much as I wish sometimes we could, we know we aren't the family that can take them, so I know this doesn't solve everything. But maybe, just maybe, it will work out that the right sibling set at the right time would end up in our home. And we could keep them together and they would never be separated.
Maybe we could just have beach time, in the middle of foster care, and beyond, like a regular Saturday.
Thursday, March 17, 2016
When I met you
Some of my favorite, most therapeutic writing is writing about the kids themselves. I know part of it is because I have to keep so much confidentiality that I feel like I'm bursting to talk about them. Part of it is that I feel lonely in my deep love for them that doesn't go away, when it seems to me that they can be invisible to some of my family and friends. Some of it is just because it's amazing to watch them grow.
So, something made me think of the moment I met each little one, and I was itching to write them out, stories I may never get to tell the children myself.
Pterodactyl. You were in your bassinet, being checked by a nurse, and howling mad. I was trying to talk to your mother, who had asked to meet me, but now was crying and had nothing to say. I left the room and you were still crying. Later, you were wheeled into the conference room where I waited with the social worker, sleeping in your bassinet. I held you and we took pictures, though it was such a strange moment to take pictures. You had straight dark hair on your little forehead and looked so brand new.
Beetle. You were sleeping in your Mamaroo in your room in the NICU, a pacifier propped against your mouth. You weren't officially in our care yet, but I was allowed to visit. I remember being shocked at how tiny you looked, but actually you were a pretty average weight, just a tiny-looking guy. I think part of it was your huge eyes, still big and round in pictures I've seen of you as a toddler. I gave you a bottle and relearned bottle feeding to help you, trying to get as much in as I could. You definitely did not like having your diaper changed. The nurses helped me with your care and I said goodnight to you, leaving you in your room to see you another day.
Caterpillar. You were asleep in your infant car seat, little head of curls resting against the back. I remember my biggest concerns were some medical issues and getting information that was not being given to us, so my impression of you was fragility. This didn't last for long, as you were quite a content baby once you settled in a few days. But that first night, you woke up soon after CPS left and ate, but you looked tired and a little lost. It had been a long day.
Cricket. I picked you up, and when the door was answered, the person answering said, "this is her." You'd run up to the door, too, to greet me. You were busy, busy, busy while we got paperwork together. We unplugged a phone so you could pretend to call people. You had a toothbrush that played music, and you wanted to show me how you brushed your teeth right then, even though I didn't really know where to get a glass of water to help you. I didn't really know what to do and hadn't prepared myself for filling this time, but I followed your lead and you ran your little show for me. You were a driven little girl, right from the start. You fell asleep about two minutes after we drove away, exhausted from the night before, and I realized later a lot of the busy busy busy mode was really overtiredness.
Crocodile. You were terrified. I think about it and it still breaks my heart. You literally backed into a corner by the door, and then tried to leave with the social worker when she tried to leave. Your big brown eyes stared at us, chin lowered. We brought out some goldfish and fruit snacks, started up Daniel Tiger. You shook your little head no. We gently kept trying and finally you sat with me on the couch, kind of watching the show. Then you took the snack and relaxed a tiny bit, and the worker left. You wore a shirt with a saying on it that you still wear as much as possible, and though I can't stand the saying on it, I can't help but let you wear it. You slept only five hours that night, just quietly awake for long periods. With these first moments, I thought you would have a very hard time adjusting to our home, but you actually settled in quite well within a few days.
Every time, it was the start of a remaking of our family.
So, something made me think of the moment I met each little one, and I was itching to write them out, stories I may never get to tell the children myself.
Pterodactyl. You were in your bassinet, being checked by a nurse, and howling mad. I was trying to talk to your mother, who had asked to meet me, but now was crying and had nothing to say. I left the room and you were still crying. Later, you were wheeled into the conference room where I waited with the social worker, sleeping in your bassinet. I held you and we took pictures, though it was such a strange moment to take pictures. You had straight dark hair on your little forehead and looked so brand new.
Beetle. You were sleeping in your Mamaroo in your room in the NICU, a pacifier propped against your mouth. You weren't officially in our care yet, but I was allowed to visit. I remember being shocked at how tiny you looked, but actually you were a pretty average weight, just a tiny-looking guy. I think part of it was your huge eyes, still big and round in pictures I've seen of you as a toddler. I gave you a bottle and relearned bottle feeding to help you, trying to get as much in as I could. You definitely did not like having your diaper changed. The nurses helped me with your care and I said goodnight to you, leaving you in your room to see you another day.
Caterpillar. You were asleep in your infant car seat, little head of curls resting against the back. I remember my biggest concerns were some medical issues and getting information that was not being given to us, so my impression of you was fragility. This didn't last for long, as you were quite a content baby once you settled in a few days. But that first night, you woke up soon after CPS left and ate, but you looked tired and a little lost. It had been a long day.
Cricket. I picked you up, and when the door was answered, the person answering said, "this is her." You'd run up to the door, too, to greet me. You were busy, busy, busy while we got paperwork together. We unplugged a phone so you could pretend to call people. You had a toothbrush that played music, and you wanted to show me how you brushed your teeth right then, even though I didn't really know where to get a glass of water to help you. I didn't really know what to do and hadn't prepared myself for filling this time, but I followed your lead and you ran your little show for me. You were a driven little girl, right from the start. You fell asleep about two minutes after we drove away, exhausted from the night before, and I realized later a lot of the busy busy busy mode was really overtiredness.
Crocodile. You were terrified. I think about it and it still breaks my heart. You literally backed into a corner by the door, and then tried to leave with the social worker when she tried to leave. Your big brown eyes stared at us, chin lowered. We brought out some goldfish and fruit snacks, started up Daniel Tiger. You shook your little head no. We gently kept trying and finally you sat with me on the couch, kind of watching the show. Then you took the snack and relaxed a tiny bit, and the worker left. You wore a shirt with a saying on it that you still wear as much as possible, and though I can't stand the saying on it, I can't help but let you wear it. You slept only five hours that night, just quietly awake for long periods. With these first moments, I thought you would have a very hard time adjusting to our home, but you actually settled in quite well within a few days.
Every time, it was the start of a remaking of our family.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Little mini-dream come true
Rhinoceros recently had a birthday party, and Cricket and her sister came.
I had pictured something like this for so long. I pictured it as soon as I knew that Cricket was moving and realized the bond that Cricket and Rhinoceros had, so over the last year I have planned it out in my mind and hoped it could happen. But even before that, I pictured it with Pterodactyl, that maybe we would be invited for a 1st birthday party. Or for Caterpillar, that maybe we would continue playdates and be invited for his birthday party. These didn't happen, but I am so glad that this one did. I was worried that someone would get sick or something and it would fall apart.
Rhinoceros's first words to her: "Cricket! Remember that I missed you?"
And seeing Cricket and her sister still brings a twinge of sadness, as I missed her, too, but it also brings joy just to see her being Cricket.
I had pictured something like this for so long. I pictured it as soon as I knew that Cricket was moving and realized the bond that Cricket and Rhinoceros had, so over the last year I have planned it out in my mind and hoped it could happen. But even before that, I pictured it with Pterodactyl, that maybe we would be invited for a 1st birthday party. Or for Caterpillar, that maybe we would continue playdates and be invited for his birthday party. These didn't happen, but I am so glad that this one did. I was worried that someone would get sick or something and it would fall apart.
Rhinoceros's first words to her: "Cricket! Remember that I missed you?"
And seeing Cricket and her sister still brings a twinge of sadness, as I missed her, too, but it also brings joy just to see her being Cricket.
Thursday, January 14, 2016
They're all toddlers.
It suddenly occurred to me that all our current and former foster kids (except the respite placement) are in the age range of 2 to 3-years-old right now. It just happened that way, with short-term placements, infants first and then toddlers.
What if they were all in a toddler room playing together? Caterpillar would likely be the most chill, just watching the action. I'm pretty sure Cricket, Pterodactyl, and Crocodile would be having some serious drama over a toy. Lots of shouting from at least Cricket and Crocodile, with some getting in each others' faces. I don't have a good sense about Beetle, so maybe he can just chill with Caterpillar, look at some books, play with some cars. If they all had a race, Crocodile would win, but Cricket would be close behind, or possibly win if she could somehow distract Crocodile.
Now I'm picturing the year 2029, and by some magic imagination miracle, they're in high school together. Maybe it's a high school musical. Caterpillar can sing the lead, but Crocodile would have the best dance moves and could choreograph. Cricket would direct the show, possibly do costumes. Beetle works on the script.
These are fun thoughts to distract myself in a month that I'm trying not to worry about Crocodile's case.
What if they were all in a toddler room playing together? Caterpillar would likely be the most chill, just watching the action. I'm pretty sure Cricket, Pterodactyl, and Crocodile would be having some serious drama over a toy. Lots of shouting from at least Cricket and Crocodile, with some getting in each others' faces. I don't have a good sense about Beetle, so maybe he can just chill with Caterpillar, look at some books, play with some cars. If they all had a race, Crocodile would win, but Cricket would be close behind, or possibly win if she could somehow distract Crocodile.
Now I'm picturing the year 2029, and by some magic imagination miracle, they're in high school together. Maybe it's a high school musical. Caterpillar can sing the lead, but Crocodile would have the best dance moves and could choreograph. Cricket would direct the show, possibly do costumes. Beetle works on the script.
These are fun thoughts to distract myself in a month that I'm trying not to worry about Crocodile's case.
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Maintaining relationships with former foster kids
We went into fostering knowing that we would have goodbyes. We hoped they would not be forever goodbyes, but we couldn't really know for sure. I think we knew it wasn't within our control, but some stories made me hopeful. Before our first placement, I think I pictured that we would have some kids who would reunify, then depending on the relationship with the birth parents, we could possibly stay in their lives. What I didn't picture is a move to a relative or another foster family, which has been every case we have had. It's similar that the relationship is not ours to control, but also different.
So, who have we seen? I saw Pterodactyl once and received pictures of her as a toddler. We haven't seen Beetle again, though his foster family did send pictures once. We have seen Caterpillar, but not in a planned sort of way. I've posted some about how I've gotten to see Cricket for play dates after she moved from our home. And though he was just here for respite, we've seen Tadpole, and I recently went to his adoption celebration. Looking at this list, we have had contact after kids moved, and I am grateful, sometimes for our sake and sometimes for theirs. However, it has not been simple and easy.
Sometimes new homes make promises that they don't keep. This has been especially hard on me. I really thought we were going to be a regular part of some of the kids' lives based on what new caregivers were telling me. I have had to work on forgiveness. I have had to put myself in their shoes, knowing they have a lot of their plate and are just busy. I'm not a fan of the phone, so I sometimes let slip those phone calls I know I should make. I'm not perfect either. Or maybe there's just something I don't understand that's a factor. I need to let those promises go, forgive and forget them.
Sometimes new homes do not even try for contact. I don't know if it's because they're busy. I don't know if it's because they have judged us in some way. I have to forgive and let this go.
Sometimes new homes do try, and it's still a bit messy. Every boundary has to be drawn differently for a former and new family of a child. I read stories in blogs of families taking kids for weekends, picking them up to give the new family a break, all celebrating together. This also set up high expectations in my mind, but in reality, the new family may decide that's not good for the child. Or even the therapist may get involved and suggest boundaries. I hoped we could have Cricket back at our house at some point, or take her for outings, but Gina and Cricket's therapists have been very cautious, as she is having a hard time understanding permanency and trust in Gina as a permanent caregiver. Thankfully, they also recognize that a continued relationship with us is still a good thing, but it has been different than I imagined.
It's hard to accept after all I've poured into a child that my eagerness to love and care for her could have a negative impact. I want to get defensive. I want to feel hurt. But I am grateful that we are still connected, that I get the chance to tell Cricket how special she is, how happy I am to see her. That Rhinoceros and Cricket can play together, with Cricket cheerfully barking orders at him, and Rhinoceros just thrilled to have his buddy.
I wonder if some of this is preparation. Maybe we will be the new home drawing boundaries someday, and I can tell the foster parents this: "I know how you feel. I know how wrong it feels to see someone else taking care of the child you have loved and poured into. I know how wrong it feels not to be the one who gets to say what the child needs, when you've met her needs minute by minute. We all love this child, and we should be gracious to each other, but mostly we need to just keep loving this child, even if loving this child looks different than it did before. And thank you for loving him."
So, who have we seen? I saw Pterodactyl once and received pictures of her as a toddler. We haven't seen Beetle again, though his foster family did send pictures once. We have seen Caterpillar, but not in a planned sort of way. I've posted some about how I've gotten to see Cricket for play dates after she moved from our home. And though he was just here for respite, we've seen Tadpole, and I recently went to his adoption celebration. Looking at this list, we have had contact after kids moved, and I am grateful, sometimes for our sake and sometimes for theirs. However, it has not been simple and easy.
Sometimes new homes make promises that they don't keep. This has been especially hard on me. I really thought we were going to be a regular part of some of the kids' lives based on what new caregivers were telling me. I have had to work on forgiveness. I have had to put myself in their shoes, knowing they have a lot of their plate and are just busy. I'm not a fan of the phone, so I sometimes let slip those phone calls I know I should make. I'm not perfect either. Or maybe there's just something I don't understand that's a factor. I need to let those promises go, forgive and forget them.
Sometimes new homes do not even try for contact. I don't know if it's because they're busy. I don't know if it's because they have judged us in some way. I have to forgive and let this go.
Sometimes new homes do try, and it's still a bit messy. Every boundary has to be drawn differently for a former and new family of a child. I read stories in blogs of families taking kids for weekends, picking them up to give the new family a break, all celebrating together. This also set up high expectations in my mind, but in reality, the new family may decide that's not good for the child. Or even the therapist may get involved and suggest boundaries. I hoped we could have Cricket back at our house at some point, or take her for outings, but Gina and Cricket's therapists have been very cautious, as she is having a hard time understanding permanency and trust in Gina as a permanent caregiver. Thankfully, they also recognize that a continued relationship with us is still a good thing, but it has been different than I imagined.
It's hard to accept after all I've poured into a child that my eagerness to love and care for her could have a negative impact. I want to get defensive. I want to feel hurt. But I am grateful that we are still connected, that I get the chance to tell Cricket how special she is, how happy I am to see her. That Rhinoceros and Cricket can play together, with Cricket cheerfully barking orders at him, and Rhinoceros just thrilled to have his buddy.
I wonder if some of this is preparation. Maybe we will be the new home drawing boundaries someday, and I can tell the foster parents this: "I know how you feel. I know how wrong it feels to see someone else taking care of the child you have loved and poured into. I know how wrong it feels not to be the one who gets to say what the child needs, when you've met her needs minute by minute. We all love this child, and we should be gracious to each other, but mostly we need to just keep loving this child, even if loving this child looks different than it did before. And thank you for loving him."
Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Christmas gifts and foster kids
This is our third Christmas as foster parents, though our first year Pterodactyl moved right before Christmas. I've been thinking about the complex issue of gifts and foster children.
We were asked back in September what the foster kids would like for Christmas. An organization works with our agency to donate gifts for foster children to make sure they have a very special Christmas because they are going through so much. It is a good idea, but it does have some unintended consequences at times.
To begin with, we feel the need to fight the way Christmas gifts seem to spiral out of control. A grandparent was only going to get one thing, but then they saw something else, and then they wanted this for stocking gifts. So, we simplify with only giving three gifts to our children, biological and foster. But then that clearly is going to be off-balance when the foster child is receiving gifts from the donations, and possibly gifts from his or her biological family. I don't really want to buy more just to balance the number. Last year we opened them separately so the "balance" wasn't really noticed, but I'm wary of doing that as one biological child is having a very hard time understanding the giving is better than receiving concept. Yes, he needs to learn, but he's young, and he is going through a lot as a foster sibling. So, I think this year I'll pack up the donated gifts in one box and I think it might go under the radar.
Then there is planning for shared gifts. If we buy this for all the kids, but it's for the foster child to open, will it go with the foster child? The answer is yes, and that is completely how it should be, but it just adds a layer to planning things out.
Then there is the gift opening and how it can be overwhelming. With Cricket, she shut down around too many people, too many presents. She was awesome at telling me this and we got through it fine. Crocodile is not as communicative about his feelings, but just tends to rev up the energy to be wilder and wilder. I'm hoping for a mild Christmas so we can run outside.
But there are nice parts to opening gifts. We get gifts for a foster child's biological siblings, and the foster child and our biological children pick out small gifts for each other (notebooks, toothbrushes, etc.) Sometimes it's nice to have the excuse to buy a high-quality toy you know your foster child will love. I'm not much of a shopper throughout the year, so we have some stipend money to spend on Christmas beyond our little $25 Christmas gift allowance.
How has fostering affected your gift giving around the holidays?
We were asked back in September what the foster kids would like for Christmas. An organization works with our agency to donate gifts for foster children to make sure they have a very special Christmas because they are going through so much. It is a good idea, but it does have some unintended consequences at times.
To begin with, we feel the need to fight the way Christmas gifts seem to spiral out of control. A grandparent was only going to get one thing, but then they saw something else, and then they wanted this for stocking gifts. So, we simplify with only giving three gifts to our children, biological and foster. But then that clearly is going to be off-balance when the foster child is receiving gifts from the donations, and possibly gifts from his or her biological family. I don't really want to buy more just to balance the number. Last year we opened them separately so the "balance" wasn't really noticed, but I'm wary of doing that as one biological child is having a very hard time understanding the giving is better than receiving concept. Yes, he needs to learn, but he's young, and he is going through a lot as a foster sibling. So, I think this year I'll pack up the donated gifts in one box and I think it might go under the radar.
Then there is planning for shared gifts. If we buy this for all the kids, but it's for the foster child to open, will it go with the foster child? The answer is yes, and that is completely how it should be, but it just adds a layer to planning things out.
Then there is the gift opening and how it can be overwhelming. With Cricket, she shut down around too many people, too many presents. She was awesome at telling me this and we got through it fine. Crocodile is not as communicative about his feelings, but just tends to rev up the energy to be wilder and wilder. I'm hoping for a mild Christmas so we can run outside.
But there are nice parts to opening gifts. We get gifts for a foster child's biological siblings, and the foster child and our biological children pick out small gifts for each other (notebooks, toothbrushes, etc.) Sometimes it's nice to have the excuse to buy a high-quality toy you know your foster child will love. I'm not much of a shopper throughout the year, so we have some stipend money to spend on Christmas beyond our little $25 Christmas gift allowance.
How has fostering affected your gift giving around the holidays?
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Soundtrack to fostering toddlers
Cricket quickly latched onto our copy of Frozen when she moved in. She already knew it before coming to our house and called both main characters "my Let It Go" rather than their names. It was playing almost every time I worked on her hair because I would pretty much do anything to make her happy while I worked on her hair. She and Rhinoceros turned chairs on their sides to pretend they were the bridges of Elsa's castle and belt the same half-accurate lines of Let It Go over and over.
When she moved, I had to say I had a few sighs of pure relief, and one was leaving Frozen to gather dust on a shelf for awhile. Perfectly fine movie, but after listening to it 40 times while staring at hair, I was done.
Crocodile did not seem to like watching movies or shows. In fact, he was really scared when he arrived, and we tried to get him to watch a show with us, and he was pretty reluctant. He is Mr. Active, Mr. Go go go, so sitting and watching is not really his thing. Occasionally he'll watch something with us and talk through the whole thing, like that annoying guy in my college dorm. So, I thought I was pretty safe from Frozen. 2-year-old boy, not so interested in watching movies. But then he spotted it and asked for it. Of course, he has preschool-age biological sisters. Of course he had caught the Frozen fever. Now it's almost a daily request. He doesn't sit through the whole thing, but he'll watch a part here and there (and talk through it about everything he sees). But what he really wants is "watch Fwozen me" (watch Frozen with me). He does this little hand gesture that means "come with me." Oh, buddy, I just really... I mean... sigh. So, I watch bits and pieces of it, again. These little ones, they've lost so much. At least I can give them something familiar that reminds them of happy times watching a happy movie with their families.
So, I will remember the special moments of watching them fall asleep, feeling them safe in my arms, crying over their sad stories... and I will always, always remember pretty much every word to Frozen.
When she moved, I had to say I had a few sighs of pure relief, and one was leaving Frozen to gather dust on a shelf for awhile. Perfectly fine movie, but after listening to it 40 times while staring at hair, I was done.
Crocodile did not seem to like watching movies or shows. In fact, he was really scared when he arrived, and we tried to get him to watch a show with us, and he was pretty reluctant. He is Mr. Active, Mr. Go go go, so sitting and watching is not really his thing. Occasionally he'll watch something with us and talk through the whole thing, like that annoying guy in my college dorm. So, I thought I was pretty safe from Frozen. 2-year-old boy, not so interested in watching movies. But then he spotted it and asked for it. Of course, he has preschool-age biological sisters. Of course he had caught the Frozen fever. Now it's almost a daily request. He doesn't sit through the whole thing, but he'll watch a part here and there (and talk through it about everything he sees). But what he really wants is "watch Fwozen me" (watch Frozen with me). He does this little hand gesture that means "come with me." Oh, buddy, I just really... I mean... sigh. So, I watch bits and pieces of it, again. These little ones, they've lost so much. At least I can give them something familiar that reminds them of happy times watching a happy movie with their families.
So, I will remember the special moments of watching them fall asleep, feeling them safe in my arms, crying over their sad stories... and I will always, always remember pretty much every word to Frozen.
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
A survival guide to Black hair for Day One
So, you're called for a placement of an African-American girl. Maybe you've read up on caring for her type of hair, but there are so many types of hair and so many different pieces of advice and styles. Now that precious girl is in front of you with her fabulous but unfamiliar-to-you head of hair and you need to leave the house in an hour. What do you do?
Disclaimer: I am white. I am still learning. I haven't styled a wide variety of hair types. You need to find your source of wisdom that is not this white woman. Having someone "on call" is a fantastic idea. Please, any women of color reading, comment and correct me. But I have gleaned a great deal of advice from Black women about basic styles that will help your foster child look cared for. I have thanked those women outside of this blog because of confidentiality issues; they have been incredible.
The main idea is to fall in line with what is in your Black community, however small or large it may be. In my community, the majority of Black girls* do not have free hair or hair just held back with headbands. Where I live, I see that style almost exclusively with daughters of white adoptive parents or biracial daughters with white moms. With daughters with Black parents, hair is commonly parted in medium or large sections and in twists or puffs, it is in box braids with beads, or it is in cornrows, possibly with beads. If you've never paid attention to your community, be very intentional and do so. And if it's anything like mine, starting with large sections in puffs or twists will get you through your first day. Then you can build on that and get hands-on help or have someone braid for you.
Step 1: Prepare before placement with some supplies. I base these on keeping hair from getting too dry using the LOC method and on the simple, surrounding-community-appropriate styles I want to achieve. I'll put pictures of my examples (click the image to read labels more easily) but of course there are many, many options. Go for cheap and basic, and you can always get more fancy and all-natural later.
Step 3: Spray wet and detangle the hair in sections. Use the clips to keep track of what you have detangled. Comb the hair with a generous amount of the leave-in conditioner using the wide-tooth comb. Rub a small amount of oil on your hands and run your fingers through the hair. Then rub the cream on your hands and run that through the hair, with your fingers like a comb. Later, you'll want to do an entire washing routine, but this is day one or two, so I would skip that unless the hair is visibly very dirty. Cricket came with hair that was fairly clean but in need of re-styling. I thought washing was a priority and she was very upset about having her hair washed, as I did it differently than she was used to. I wish I would have just held off a few more days.
Step 4: Part the hair using the wide-tooth comb in one long swoop, then put some grease on your finger and cover the part with it. Go over the part again with the fine tooth comb.
Step 5: Apply the grease to the section you've created. Brush through the hair with the boar brush. Spray again as needed. Apply gel at the base of the section, then comb into a ponytail. Wrap the rubber band (or two or three if it's a large section) around the hair.
Step 6: Repeat until all hair is in sections.
Step 7: Put on "ballies." I do it the second way.
Step 8: Now you can twist each section or leave them as puffs, depending on the length of hair and what you want to do. A puff is just a ponytail left loose. I saw a school-age girl with one puff on top and the back split into two puffs, which is incredibly simple if you can just detangle, part, and secure it. This also works well for babies (and don't forget to look at your community for how babies' hair is styled!). But twists are very popular in my area, which involves just dividing the hair into two sections and twisting them together. It can get more involved than that, but this will work for Day 1.
See the YouTube channel in the link above for some more examples. You can secure those with ballies at the bottom, or I find barrettes better for the length of hair I was working with.
I know this sounds like a lot of steps, but it will get easier, and it is worth the time. You don't have to be perfect, but you can't just randomly attack with ponytail holders and barrettes or leave it free if that's not common in your area. Take it from someone who had to face "you don't know how to do her hair" as the first words from biological family.
*I have less experience with noticing hair of Black boys, but most have hair cropped short, though some have cornrows.
Disclaimer: I am white. I am still learning. I haven't styled a wide variety of hair types. You need to find your source of wisdom that is not this white woman. Having someone "on call" is a fantastic idea. Please, any women of color reading, comment and correct me. But I have gleaned a great deal of advice from Black women about basic styles that will help your foster child look cared for. I have thanked those women outside of this blog because of confidentiality issues; they have been incredible.
The main idea is to fall in line with what is in your Black community, however small or large it may be. In my community, the majority of Black girls* do not have free hair or hair just held back with headbands. Where I live, I see that style almost exclusively with daughters of white adoptive parents or biracial daughters with white moms. With daughters with Black parents, hair is commonly parted in medium or large sections and in twists or puffs, it is in box braids with beads, or it is in cornrows, possibly with beads. If you've never paid attention to your community, be very intentional and do so. And if it's anything like mine, starting with large sections in puffs or twists will get you through your first day. Then you can build on that and get hands-on help or have someone braid for you.
Step 1: Prepare before placement with some supplies. I base these on keeping hair from getting too dry using the LOC method and on the simple, surrounding-community-appropriate styles I want to achieve. I'll put pictures of my examples (click the image to read labels more easily) but of course there are many, many options. Go for cheap and basic, and you can always get more fancy and all-natural later.
- leave-in conditioner
- olive oil (you already have some, right?)
- cream
- grease
- gel
- fine-tooth comb
- wide-tooth comb
- boar brush
- clips for holding hair in sections
- small rubber bands
- "ballies"
- barrettes
Step 3: Spray wet and detangle the hair in sections. Use the clips to keep track of what you have detangled. Comb the hair with a generous amount of the leave-in conditioner using the wide-tooth comb. Rub a small amount of oil on your hands and run your fingers through the hair. Then rub the cream on your hands and run that through the hair, with your fingers like a comb. Later, you'll want to do an entire washing routine, but this is day one or two, so I would skip that unless the hair is visibly very dirty. Cricket came with hair that was fairly clean but in need of re-styling. I thought washing was a priority and she was very upset about having her hair washed, as I did it differently than she was used to. I wish I would have just held off a few more days.
Step 4: Part the hair using the wide-tooth comb in one long swoop, then put some grease on your finger and cover the part with it. Go over the part again with the fine tooth comb.
Step 5: Apply the grease to the section you've created. Brush through the hair with the boar brush. Spray again as needed. Apply gel at the base of the section, then comb into a ponytail. Wrap the rubber band (or two or three if it's a large section) around the hair.
Step 6: Repeat until all hair is in sections.
Step 7: Put on "ballies." I do it the second way.
Step 8: Now you can twist each section or leave them as puffs, depending on the length of hair and what you want to do. A puff is just a ponytail left loose. I saw a school-age girl with one puff on top and the back split into two puffs, which is incredibly simple if you can just detangle, part, and secure it. This also works well for babies (and don't forget to look at your community for how babies' hair is styled!). But twists are very popular in my area, which involves just dividing the hair into two sections and twisting them together. It can get more involved than that, but this will work for Day 1.
See the YouTube channel in the link above for some more examples. You can secure those with ballies at the bottom, or I find barrettes better for the length of hair I was working with.
I know this sounds like a lot of steps, but it will get easier, and it is worth the time. You don't have to be perfect, but you can't just randomly attack with ponytail holders and barrettes or leave it free if that's not common in your area. Take it from someone who had to face "you don't know how to do her hair" as the first words from biological family.
*I have less experience with noticing hair of Black boys, but most have hair cropped short, though some have cornrows.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
More sibling time
It worked out for everyone to have some serious sibling time this afternoon. We dropped off Crocodile with the foster mom who has his sisters. Then we went to the park for a play date with Cricket, then headed back and picked up Crocodile when we were done.
It's always very good, but always a bit bittersweet. Things that bring a smile to my face bring a pang of loss in my heart. She still acts like she's Rhinoceros's big sister, even though she's younger. She still asks for me to pick her up. She said she was sleepy and cuddled with me for awhile, and after she pinched her finger, she cried and cuddled some more. She still wears an intense, serious face much of the time, but when she grins, it's so bright. She asked if I could come to Granny's house and spend the night with her.
And I don't know why, but this conversation cracked me up:
"So what do you do at (pre)school?"
"I color and I glue."
"Oh, are you cutting up paper, too? I know you're really good at that."
"No, the teacher don't let me have the scissors. No no no."
Gina* told me they had just had a play date on Friday with Cricket's younger brother as well, who still lives in a separate home. The case is moving toward adoption, and they are having more frequent sibling visits to make a case that adopting in separate homes is the best for these kids. I can't say what's right or wrong. Sometimes splitting sibling groups makes me wonder if we should even be fostering, knowing we're a part of the problem when we say, "No, we will only take one." It has come up many times, and it will again. I feel guilt, but we also know what we can provide, and what we are afraid we can't provide with more kids or older kids, at least at this point. But if no one fostered besides families who could do the best for every single case, how few families would be available? What we can do is better than nothing, at least I pray it is.
We can only do our part, nurture those sibling relationships, and leave it in God's hands.
*Cricket's half-sister's grandma, her foster mom as fictive kin
It's always very good, but always a bit bittersweet. Things that bring a smile to my face bring a pang of loss in my heart. She still acts like she's Rhinoceros's big sister, even though she's younger. She still asks for me to pick her up. She said she was sleepy and cuddled with me for awhile, and after she pinched her finger, she cried and cuddled some more. She still wears an intense, serious face much of the time, but when she grins, it's so bright. She asked if I could come to Granny's house and spend the night with her.
And I don't know why, but this conversation cracked me up:
"So what do you do at (pre)school?"
"I color and I glue."
"Oh, are you cutting up paper, too? I know you're really good at that."
"No, the teacher don't let me have the scissors. No no no."
Gina* told me they had just had a play date on Friday with Cricket's younger brother as well, who still lives in a separate home. The case is moving toward adoption, and they are having more frequent sibling visits to make a case that adopting in separate homes is the best for these kids. I can't say what's right or wrong. Sometimes splitting sibling groups makes me wonder if we should even be fostering, knowing we're a part of the problem when we say, "No, we will only take one." It has come up many times, and it will again. I feel guilt, but we also know what we can provide, and what we are afraid we can't provide with more kids or older kids, at least at this point. But if no one fostered besides families who could do the best for every single case, how few families would be available? What we can do is better than nothing, at least I pray it is.
We can only do our part, nurture those sibling relationships, and leave it in God's hands.
*Cricket's half-sister's grandma, her foster mom as fictive kin
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Assorted items for fostering a toddler
Disclaimer: every toddler is different! They toddle differently. They may not toddle at all. Our experience is with the 2- to 3-year-old age range, so these may not apply to younger toddlers. Disclaimer 2: I am not an expert, and found these items from many attempts and mistakes. I may learn better options in the future and hope to share those, too. Not really a disclaimer, but just in case you're wondering: none of these companies paid me anything.
Will you be fostering a toddler in the future and wonder what may be helpful to have on hand besides clothes and shoes? Here are a few things that fit Cricket and Crocodile's needs:
Multiple sturdy nightlights
Toddlers do not like the dark, and toddlers who are in a new home and have experience trauma especially do not like the dark. Toddlers who are savvy enough to climb out of a crib and need a bed are also savvy enough to unplug or break cheap nightlights. Our current configuration is to have one nightlight out of reach that turns off after 20 minutes, and one nightlight that the child can use.
The out-of-reach nightlight has helped with building trust at nighttime and naps: I will come in the room to check on you when the light turns off. Most requests are delayed with the refrain: "I'm right over there. I'll come in when the light turns off." Once again, every child is different, but after settling in, we were able to make this work (usually) so that naptime and bedtime were less dependent on adults being in the room, and it helped us be consistent with how much we went in the room. We use an old Dream Light (which did not work as a personal nightlight as the plastic cover came off, exposing wires).
The nightlight for the child gives the child control and comfort by having that control over the environment. We went with the Munchkin Owl Nightlight, which is fabulously cheap and has an amazing battery life. Over 2 months with nightly use and we have not changed the batteries. Crocodile really loves it and operates it easily. I have heard, though, that red light is better for kids falling asleep, so I may try the Kinderglo in the future, but Crocodile already loves his so much, I'm not going to mess with it.
I'm debating adding a third nightlight with future placements to have something that just stays on all night. We haven't had luck with plug-in ones because they unplug them, and while the Owl is awesome, sometimes he may not be able to find it in the dark, or just waking up in the dark is too alarming. So, maybe motion-sensing lights would be good? Leaving the hall light on sort of works, but I think they find comfort having the light in their room. Or maybe I can find something better than the Dream Light that can have a timer but also be switched to run all night, which can still be placed completely out of reach of the child. Suggestions?
Sturdy photo album
Getting toddlers pictures of their biological family members is very important. However, partly because they're toddlers and partly because the pictures bring up strong, mixed emotions, they may destroy them. They also want to carry them everywhere, so precious pictures are lost quickly. I tried a cheap small photo album, like a Grandma brag book, and the plastic on the pages was torn apart swiftly. We never found a good solution for Cricket. Now I'm trying the soft album pictured above that a friend suggested and passed on to me. I may actually sew the photos in there, as Crocodile has already managed to get them out. And the next time around, I want to start out with this album, pictures sewn in, and we're good to go.
Water bottleThis may seems small, but if you have other young children and your house is like mine, everyone has "their" water bottle. When a newly placed foster child notices they do not have a water bottle of his or her own, it's not cool. So, I'm trying to keep one on hand ahead of time, even a few so the child can choose one, or to have a back-up in case they can't work the one I bought.
Backpack
Little backpacks are adorable. But besides that, I've found them to be great for visits. I usually have a few pieces of artwork and notes for biological parents, plus they may give gifts to their child. A backpack makes it easier to round up all that stuff, especially when holding multiple hands crossing parking lots. They're also useful for the inevitable multiple appointments you'll have for a foster child, as I put waiting room activities in the backpack to bring along.
Duffle bag or suitcaseI hope this is pretty well-known by now, but foster children may move from your home, they may move suddenly, and they need something with more dignity than a trash bag or shopping bags. I often find cheap kids' or small duffle bags at Aldi and stock up. Some agencies may provide them when the child arrives, but be prepared in case they don't. We also use them regularly for weekend trips, respite, and transition visits.
Comfort food
We always have a couple boxes of mac and cheese and frozen break-n-bake cookie dough on hand.
African-American hair basics
This will be its own post, and I'm really looking forward to sharing it.
What are your toddler essentials for foster care?
Sunday, August 23, 2015
Memories
Sometimes I sit back and wonder, what will my foster children remember?
I make life books. In some cases, I think those will stay with them. In others, I already am not sure who the child lives with and if the book made those transitions. I'm also not sure if the person who ends up with permanency with the child will readily share those memories.
So, if they won't see the picture and hear the stories, will they know somehow? I know they will have the trauma of separation and will carry that with them. And maybe they'll have memories of our home in a negative way, that nothing felt like theirs, that everything seemed wrong. Will they also carry the joyous moments?
Will Crocodile carry memories of his first s'more, totally confused why I was putting this marshmallow on a stick over a fire and not in his hand. Will he remember camping, what it's like to fall asleep in a tent and eat your breakfast outside before a long day with the beach and dunes as a playground?
Will Cricket carry memories of dressing up with her best friend/number one fan Rhinoceros, running around the house talking about hotels? Will she carry memories of leaping around hay bales at the orchard and cutting down a Christmas tree? Of sledding down the hill, first loving in, then outraged at the snow flying in her face?
Will the babies carry memories of the doting foster brothers grinning in their faces, calling them crazy nicknames? Will they remember their standard position of comfort: wrapped up in a carrier as I went about my day?
It's not about us and what a great impact we make on memories, or what a great family we are. I'm sure there are many memories of me sounding like a robot that is totally fed up with all kids everywhere. Or memories of their foster brothers screaming in their faces. Plus, I already know not to hope for much as my 7-year-old can't remember the cabin we went to just two years ago. But there's this little hope in me that they know somewhere deep inside that they have had some really good times with us, when they could just soak up all it is to be these tiny, precious people. And I hope it comes to them in dreams and daydreams, especially if their days ahead are difficult and turbulent.
I make life books. In some cases, I think those will stay with them. In others, I already am not sure who the child lives with and if the book made those transitions. I'm also not sure if the person who ends up with permanency with the child will readily share those memories.
So, if they won't see the picture and hear the stories, will they know somehow? I know they will have the trauma of separation and will carry that with them. And maybe they'll have memories of our home in a negative way, that nothing felt like theirs, that everything seemed wrong. Will they also carry the joyous moments?
Will Crocodile carry memories of his first s'more, totally confused why I was putting this marshmallow on a stick over a fire and not in his hand. Will he remember camping, what it's like to fall asleep in a tent and eat your breakfast outside before a long day with the beach and dunes as a playground?
Will Cricket carry memories of dressing up with her best friend/number one fan Rhinoceros, running around the house talking about hotels? Will she carry memories of leaping around hay bales at the orchard and cutting down a Christmas tree? Of sledding down the hill, first loving in, then outraged at the snow flying in her face?
Will the babies carry memories of the doting foster brothers grinning in their faces, calling them crazy nicknames? Will they remember their standard position of comfort: wrapped up in a carrier as I went about my day?
It's not about us and what a great impact we make on memories, or what a great family we are. I'm sure there are many memories of me sounding like a robot that is totally fed up with all kids everywhere. Or memories of their foster brothers screaming in their faces. Plus, I already know not to hope for much as my 7-year-old can't remember the cabin we went to just two years ago. But there's this little hope in me that they know somewhere deep inside that they have had some really good times with us, when they could just soak up all it is to be these tiny, precious people. And I hope it comes to them in dreams and daydreams, especially if their days ahead are difficult and turbulent.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Comparisons
It's hard not to compare kids whatever sort of parent you are. Dinosaur is my bold waterslide champion. Rhinoceros says NOPE to even mild splash pads. Who is friendlier, who is crazier, who is bossier, etc. Foster parents have the same tendency, but maybe even more so as we start to build up quite a repertoire of experiences for particular age ranges. And possibly even more so because we don't always see kids grow out of stages and have no choice but to get an impression of them as they are here and now. We also are trying to figure out what is age-appropriate behavior and what might be an impact of trauma, so that's always in the back of my mind as I think of all the kids I've had in the infant stage, or all the kids I've had in the toddler stage.
So, now with my second foster toddler and fourth toddler overall, my mind is constantly running a compare/contrast train of thought. As I wrote before, [url=http://myfamilyfornow.blogspot.com/2015/07/nests.html]Cricket and Crocodile both make nests.[/url] They are both very advanced in gross motor skills and do some things independently that my bio kids certainly did not at that age. They both fiddle around quite a bit as they fall asleep and can't stop moving, though Cricket much more so. They cling to me more than B. They're very possessive of toys, though Cricket also had possessiveness over food, and Crocodile doesn't as much.
A major difference has been reactions to people being in their close personal space. Cricket would often lash out when Dinosaur or Rhinoceros just walked closely by her, exploding in rage in a way that you know had to be instinctive, not choice. We worked a lot on saying "1... 2.. 3... please give me some space." But it usually came out 123GIVEMESOMESPACE! Which I still count as progress. This created quite a bit of conflict, as Dinosaur's greatest interpersonal weakness is... invading others' personal space.
But Crocodile? He eats it up. He wants wrestled with, pounced on, surprised, hugged. The other boys are loving it, until he's lying on someone's face.
Then sometimes I compare and assume and need to check myself. Crocodile had several shots at a doctor's appointment, and his last shots were long enough ago that he had no clue what was going on. As I made dinner, he started whining over and over to pick him up. I did briefly as much as I could, but part of me stiffened in fear. I spent months picking up Cricket, probably more than 30 times in a day sometimes. She needed cradled like a baby, and I provided that with some limits. But even with limits it was exhausting. I wondered if the shots traumatized him so much that now we'd be on the same road. I want to say I was ready to give of myself to another child, but I was not feeling so giving. So, I patiently picked him up, but I'm sure my face and tone of voice revealed a bit of strain.
The whining turned to low volume crying that persisted longer than usual for him, so finally I asked if he hurt, and he said yes and pointed to his legs. I gave him Tylenol, and sure enough that ended the requests for being picked up. Poor kids' legs just felt too sore to stand, but he couldn't figure out he should just sit or lie down because he likes being on the move! So, that's not to say that he didn't also want some comfort, but I do need to keep an open mind always for each unique individual little one that comes to our home.
So, now with my second foster toddler and fourth toddler overall, my mind is constantly running a compare/contrast train of thought. As I wrote before, [url=http://myfamilyfornow.blogspot.com/2015/07/nests.html]Cricket and Crocodile both make nests.[/url] They are both very advanced in gross motor skills and do some things independently that my bio kids certainly did not at that age. They both fiddle around quite a bit as they fall asleep and can't stop moving, though Cricket much more so. They cling to me more than B. They're very possessive of toys, though Cricket also had possessiveness over food, and Crocodile doesn't as much.
A major difference has been reactions to people being in their close personal space. Cricket would often lash out when Dinosaur or Rhinoceros just walked closely by her, exploding in rage in a way that you know had to be instinctive, not choice. We worked a lot on saying "1... 2.. 3... please give me some space." But it usually came out 123GIVEMESOMESPACE! Which I still count as progress. This created quite a bit of conflict, as Dinosaur's greatest interpersonal weakness is... invading others' personal space.
But Crocodile? He eats it up. He wants wrestled with, pounced on, surprised, hugged. The other boys are loving it, until he's lying on someone's face.
Then sometimes I compare and assume and need to check myself. Crocodile had several shots at a doctor's appointment, and his last shots were long enough ago that he had no clue what was going on. As I made dinner, he started whining over and over to pick him up. I did briefly as much as I could, but part of me stiffened in fear. I spent months picking up Cricket, probably more than 30 times in a day sometimes. She needed cradled like a baby, and I provided that with some limits. But even with limits it was exhausting. I wondered if the shots traumatized him so much that now we'd be on the same road. I want to say I was ready to give of myself to another child, but I was not feeling so giving. So, I patiently picked him up, but I'm sure my face and tone of voice revealed a bit of strain.
The whining turned to low volume crying that persisted longer than usual for him, so finally I asked if he hurt, and he said yes and pointed to his legs. I gave him Tylenol, and sure enough that ended the requests for being picked up. Poor kids' legs just felt too sore to stand, but he couldn't figure out he should just sit or lie down because he likes being on the move! So, that's not to say that he didn't also want some comfort, but I do need to keep an open mind always for each unique individual little one that comes to our home.
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Nests
Babies and young kids in foster care are often used to sleeping differently than foster care requires, or that foster parents may find typical. We adjust with gentleness and love as we find something that works for the kids and our family.
Crocodile is used to going to sleep much later and sleeping in later than our other kids. Which would be fine to go along with, if we could possibly keep him quiet in the evening while our early-to-bed kids sleep, but his volume levels are not exactly controllable at this stage in his life. He is starting to get up earlier, but not going to bed earlier? Tonight was a little closer to our goal time at least.
Then they both quickly showed us that they were definitely not the kind of toddlers that stay in a crib. And a toddler bed is a great option, but they're not so hot on staying in that either. I know Cricket shared a bed with family members, and I'm guessing many other foster kids do as well. I've slept on the floor next to the toddler bed at times, but try to gently get them used to their rooms and their beds. Cricket and Crocodile both prefer little nests to their beds. Cricket loved lying down on the vent with a blanket around her, as she was with us through the winter and she could have the warm air blowing around her. Seemed a bit uncomfortable, but that was her nest. Crocodile made his little nest with cushions from the glider rocker, first in the corner of the room, now in the middle.
And true to his name, I think Crocodile has worn his Crocs every night he's been here. I often take them off when putting him in pajamas, but he finds them and puts them back on. Sure, I could put them further away, but sometimes it's the little things that you just watch them do, nod, and hope it gives them a little control and comfort.
Crocodile is used to going to sleep much later and sleeping in later than our other kids. Which would be fine to go along with, if we could possibly keep him quiet in the evening while our early-to-bed kids sleep, but his volume levels are not exactly controllable at this stage in his life. He is starting to get up earlier, but not going to bed earlier? Tonight was a little closer to our goal time at least.
Then they both quickly showed us that they were definitely not the kind of toddlers that stay in a crib. And a toddler bed is a great option, but they're not so hot on staying in that either. I know Cricket shared a bed with family members, and I'm guessing many other foster kids do as well. I've slept on the floor next to the toddler bed at times, but try to gently get them used to their rooms and their beds. Cricket and Crocodile both prefer little nests to their beds. Cricket loved lying down on the vent with a blanket around her, as she was with us through the winter and she could have the warm air blowing around her. Seemed a bit uncomfortable, but that was her nest. Crocodile made his little nest with cushions from the glider rocker, first in the corner of the room, now in the middle.
And true to his name, I think Crocodile has worn his Crocs every night he's been here. I often take them off when putting him in pajamas, but he finds them and puts them back on. Sure, I could put them further away, but sometimes it's the little things that you just watch them do, nod, and hope it gives them a little control and comfort.
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Seeing Cricket soon
I talked to Cricket again over the phone, after talking to Gina. We made plans for a play date at a park next week. Her therapist suggested a play date with Gina there rather than me coming to pick her up, which is smart. We decided to have Cricket's sister there as well, just to help with any worries Cricket may have that we're coming to take her from her new home.
I'm nervous.
I keep playing back in my mind, those precious fifteen minutes I had with Pterodactyl, one month after she moved. When she looked at me quizzically, and reached her hand up to touch my face. To see if this was still the person who played the role of mother in her life for seven months.
Cricket is older, and she will talk more and interact more, but I know the same question may be in her heart. Is this still the person who played the role of mother in my life for seven months?
I long to hold her, but I know I will be overcome with the emotion that will bring. Will she ask me to pick her up? And hold her like a baby?
I'm also having the anniversary longings to see and hold Caterpillar, the same way last year I was longing to see and hold Pterodactyl as annual events brought up memories. We went to the same park today that we went to about a year ago with him, where I pushed him on a swing and have some precious pictures. I really miss that happy little guy.
I hold them all in my heart and never let go.
I'm nervous.
I keep playing back in my mind, those precious fifteen minutes I had with Pterodactyl, one month after she moved. When she looked at me quizzically, and reached her hand up to touch my face. To see if this was still the person who played the role of mother in her life for seven months.
Cricket is older, and she will talk more and interact more, but I know the same question may be in her heart. Is this still the person who played the role of mother in my life for seven months?
I long to hold her, but I know I will be overcome with the emotion that will bring. Will she ask me to pick her up? And hold her like a baby?
I'm also having the anniversary longings to see and hold Caterpillar, the same way last year I was longing to see and hold Pterodactyl as annual events brought up memories. We went to the same park today that we went to about a year ago with him, where I pushed him on a swing and have some precious pictures. I really miss that happy little guy.
I hold them all in my heart and never let go.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
A bit of the future, a bit of the past
I got an e-mail asking about a respite placement in June for a week, and we said yes. Baby time! When we did respite for Beetle for a week, he was at a similar age. I'm really looking forward to it.
In the meantime, we're a bit on the fence on whether or not to take placement calls. I, as usual, want to just see what happens and say no if it's a placement that's beyond our experience. I feel like we can make it work for a week, especially since I'm off work in June. B is more hesitant, doesn't see why we don't take as many breaks as we can. But for me, the breaks are not fully breaks. Even though I'm not waiting on the phone to ring, I know there are kids that need us. I try to fill up my empty days but I really just want a new case to dive into if we're needed. I've appreciated breaks, but after having one when Cricket left the first time, now another after she left the second time, I'm not hoping to extend this one by our own planning. Now, if we happened to get no calls, great. We have a few more days to decide.
In the meantime, I got to talk to Cricket last week. Rhinoceros bounced upstairs when he heard she was on the phone, and their little conversation was hilarious and of course heartbreaking for me, as I miss hearing them talk together so much. It sounds like she's doing well, and we hope to have a playdate sometime next month.
I reached out to my connections to other past placements as well, hoping for something. I got a response from Pterodactyl's caseworker (or former caseworker now, of course), and two pictures! Oh, it is amazing to look at that little face, now a toddler. To see those same expressions grown up a little. It was the first I had seen of her in a year and a half. Somehow the pictures gave me the connection I longed for and helped me accept that I may never see her in person.
In the meantime, we're a bit on the fence on whether or not to take placement calls. I, as usual, want to just see what happens and say no if it's a placement that's beyond our experience. I feel like we can make it work for a week, especially since I'm off work in June. B is more hesitant, doesn't see why we don't take as many breaks as we can. But for me, the breaks are not fully breaks. Even though I'm not waiting on the phone to ring, I know there are kids that need us. I try to fill up my empty days but I really just want a new case to dive into if we're needed. I've appreciated breaks, but after having one when Cricket left the first time, now another after she left the second time, I'm not hoping to extend this one by our own planning. Now, if we happened to get no calls, great. We have a few more days to decide.
In the meantime, I got to talk to Cricket last week. Rhinoceros bounced upstairs when he heard she was on the phone, and their little conversation was hilarious and of course heartbreaking for me, as I miss hearing them talk together so much. It sounds like she's doing well, and we hope to have a playdate sometime next month.
I reached out to my connections to other past placements as well, hoping for something. I got a response from Pterodactyl's caseworker (or former caseworker now, of course), and two pictures! Oh, it is amazing to look at that little face, now a toddler. To see those same expressions grown up a little. It was the first I had seen of her in a year and a half. Somehow the pictures gave me the connection I longed for and helped me accept that I may never see her in person.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Loose ends
Closure happens slowly after a foster child leaves. There are reminders popping up here and there, things to process, things to do.
- Gathering the leftovers. I never pack well enough. After a move, I find a child's stuff everywhere. I found socks for Pterodactyl, Beetle, and Caterpillar months later. Oh, and pacifiers. So many pacifiers. I'm collecting Cricket's little things I'm finding in a basket for when we see her next. It's a pretty full basket already.
- YouTube suggestions. Cricket's favorite videos are suggested to me daily.
- Memory items to finish. We made a handprint on a little canvas for our wall of handprints, but somehow I can't bring myself to put in the nail and hang it up yet. I also completely forgot until now that months ago when we first thought she was moving "soon" I bought a recordable book, as she loves one that was given to Rhinoceros. So, I need to record that for her and give to her.
- Office calls. It hasn't happened this time, but usually I have doctors' offices, etc. calling me about future appointments and such and I have to give the phone number of the new home.
- People that didn't get to say goodbye. The back-and-forth never-100%-sure nature of the end of Cricket's placement kept us from holding a goodbye party. Adults understand, but I forget that there are kids that knew her and now suddenly don't see her. Our babysitter's little girl was so confused when I dropped off Rhinoceros but not Cricket. In the past several months, she'd talked about them as a unit: RhinocerosCricket. I feel bad she didn't get closure, as they likely would have come for a goodbye party.
Blessed by Cricket
I didn't write this post after the first time Cricket left, when I didn't think she was coming back. And I've been hesitant to write it now. I'm just overwhelmed with how much there is to say about what we learned from Cricket and loved about her. I could have written a post longer than the babies' after her first week here, let alone after eight months.
What I learned from Cricket
What I learned from Cricket
- You can plan ages for placements, but you are just guessing. We thought we wouldn't have virtual twins with our planning, but we were wrong. We expected two big brothers and a little sister, but we got a fierce competition for baby and middle child at the same time.
- But it's okay, because God had more planned anyway. Had we said no to Cricket knowing she would be so combative, aggressive, and overall upsetting for Rhinoceros (and sometimes Dinosaur), we would have missed out on the absolutely beautiful friendship/siblingship that developed after a few months. What Cricket brought out of Rhinoceros still blows my mind. I had no idea this imaginative, assertive, fiercely loving child was within my quiet little guy.
- Plan on transitions taking six times longer than planned. Maybe 10. Seriously, I keep thinking that I'm keeping in my mind that it will be delayed, but the delay is always longer and crazier than I really let myself imagine.
- Regression can be intense and it can be healing. I won't ever forget those moments of cradling this big girl, seeing in her eyes more than what she could tell.
- What works with other kids may not work with kids who have experienced trauma. I knew this in my head, but had to experience it. I will never forget the first time I closed a door intending to give us each a couple minutes to regroup, the wailing from behind that door, and the long time it took to rebuild that trust.
- I can survive without some of those things I counted on because they worked with other kids. I made it through when Cricket wouldn't sit and watch a show (eventually she did). When our house suddenly required a lot more supervision, I learned how to plan chores around that and accept what just didn't get done.
- Hair care. I had to laugh at my post on what I learned with Caterpillar. I had so much to learn. Oh, and I learned to get help with hair before the first family visit.
- In Christ, all of us can do more than we imagine, and more than we imagine for each other. B and I were loving parents of a little girl who was very sad and angry about what has happened in her life, still is. In September, Cricket would only tell us she wanted to eat because she didn't know how to express the hurt she felt. By December, she was talking about her feelings way beyond kids her age usually can, and continued to do so the rest of the placement. Dinosaur and Rhinoceros who felt their peaceful home life ripped away from them when she arrived came to absolutely adore Cricket. I truly believe all of this was possible by prayer, ours and from those around us.
- Her big grin. Toothy, beautiful, joyful.
- How she did things with a purpose. She was just amazing to watch sometimes. Drawing little circles. Cutting up little pieces of papers, gluing them, cutting them again. Dressing herself with whatever she found lying around. Always intently, like this was her new purpose in life.
- Her interest in people. She reported what happened with "some people." After being in nursery, "some people took my toy." After meeting some of my relatives, "some people played with me." Then she went through a phase of greeting everyone in the store like she was in a parade. And then asking every person she could find, "Are you a grown-up? Do you like coffee?"
- Our conversations. I still can't believe the vocabulary on this young girl, and how she would navigate a conversation with confidence even if she had the words wrong. It didn't matter that she said yellow and the real color was orange. She's already moved on, folks.
- Her arguments. Okay, mostly they drove me insane. But now that they're over, they're hilarious. How she daily insisted to Rhinoceros that those were NOT doorbells, just because she wanted to contradict him. How she argued with song lyrics on the radio. "Let's all get up and dance to a song that was hit before your mother was born." "No, I can't dance! I buckled!!" How she argued with Jesus. In some random story she said out of nowhere, "And I told Jesus, NO! Bathroom words are for the bathroom!"
- Her speed and strength. This little girl could outrun and wrestle something away from the older boys no problem. There's something to be said about a fierce girl who can hold her own.
- The songs in her heart. Cricket loved songs the way teens obsessed with their favorite bands loved songs. She sang them, wanted me to sing them, wanted to watch them, and performed them with a purpose (see above). Jesus Loves Me, He's Got the Whole World in His Hands, Let It Go, and the songs from Annie will never be the same to me.
- I just can't it put it all into words. She has my heart and then some. When she had to come back here a second time, her caseworker said that Gina was having a tough time missing her, saying "I get it, you know, just the way Cricket is. You just have to love her."
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Mother's Day
I think I have a lot of writing to get out, but I haven't been able to do it yet. At first I felt catharsis after Cricket left, then I felt irritable and just not myself. I had a great Mother's Day and feel pretty happy, but there's still some weird numbness about it all. Kids leaving your home when they've been so central to your life, to your heart. It's just weird.
I sent a text to Gina* today. I imagined being in her shoes on Mother's Day. I don't know her relationships with her children and if they are positive, but I know she is doing more mothering than grandmothering than she expected. I'm sure she didn't plan on a 3-year-old living with her, but she has embraced Cricket and loved her. So, I just sent her a note saying I want to acknowledge all she does for Cricket and her sister and to wish her a happy Mother's Day.
I sent my own mom a little package, made a Facebook post, Skyped. Mostly I was thinking of her sacrifices she made when we were young kids, especially as my dad worked long hours, and her tender heart that I've inherited. She's taught me that when you have a heart for hurting people, you act on it even though it may cause you pain, and I'm very grateful for that.
There are some mothers I won't speak to today, but I'm thinking of them. Here are some of my thoughts and prayers:
For a mother who knows she will never parent some of her children, who is still fighting for one, who went to rehab. I pray that she can overcome addiction, and also that her children will know they are loved and valuable no matter how successful she is in her fight against addiction.
For a mother who knows she will never parent some of her children, who seems to have given up. I pray she knows that God never ever gives up on her.
For a mother who came to the United States for a better future for her children, and then had to pick up the pieces as her daughter lost her children.
For a mother who made little mistake after little mistake that added up to disaster. I pray that she knows she is not stupid. She is a child of God, wonderfully created.
For a mother who faced a childhood of abandonment and neglect herself before becoming a mother. I pray that she accepts the help that she needs and claims her identity in Christ, that the foundation of belief in God that she has expressed will overwhelm her life and help her overcome her obstacles.
Motherhood can be beautiful, but it can also be broken and tragic. I pray for redemption, for this imperfect mother and all the others.
*sister's grandma, forgot I started using this name until I started looking back at old posts
I sent a text to Gina* today. I imagined being in her shoes on Mother's Day. I don't know her relationships with her children and if they are positive, but I know she is doing more mothering than grandmothering than she expected. I'm sure she didn't plan on a 3-year-old living with her, but she has embraced Cricket and loved her. So, I just sent her a note saying I want to acknowledge all she does for Cricket and her sister and to wish her a happy Mother's Day.
I sent my own mom a little package, made a Facebook post, Skyped. Mostly I was thinking of her sacrifices she made when we were young kids, especially as my dad worked long hours, and her tender heart that I've inherited. She's taught me that when you have a heart for hurting people, you act on it even though it may cause you pain, and I'm very grateful for that.
There are some mothers I won't speak to today, but I'm thinking of them. Here are some of my thoughts and prayers:
For a mother who knows she will never parent some of her children, who is still fighting for one, who went to rehab. I pray that she can overcome addiction, and also that her children will know they are loved and valuable no matter how successful she is in her fight against addiction.
For a mother who knows she will never parent some of her children, who seems to have given up. I pray she knows that God never ever gives up on her.
For a mother who came to the United States for a better future for her children, and then had to pick up the pieces as her daughter lost her children.
For a mother who made little mistake after little mistake that added up to disaster. I pray that she knows she is not stupid. She is a child of God, wonderfully created.
For a mother who faced a childhood of abandonment and neglect herself before becoming a mother. I pray that she accepts the help that she needs and claims her identity in Christ, that the foundation of belief in God that she has expressed will overwhelm her life and help her overcome her obstacles.
Motherhood can be beautiful, but it can also be broken and tragic. I pray for redemption, for this imperfect mother and all the others.
*sister's grandma, forgot I started using this name until I started looking back at old posts
Monday, May 4, 2015
Goodbye again
Yep, Gina's license was approved! I couldn't completely believe the e-mail after all these months of checking, so I just had to check the state website where I can dig around and find all licensed family. Yep, it was true. We got the news after bedtimes, so we told the kids the morning she was leaving. The reactions of Cricket and Rhinoceros were simultaneous: one of joy, one of sorrow. Poor Rhinoceros. He's going to need some cheering up this week having lost his best friend a second time. But, as one of my friends gave me perspective, some amount of loss is normal and not unhealthy for kids. They move, they change daycares, they move nursery rooms, friends move. His will be a bit more intense, but we'll get through this. I'm looking to spoil him a bit this week, though. He got a Build-a-Bear gift certificate from a drawing, so we'll be making our first ever trip there.
Cricket was thrilled, but still asked when I was going to pick her up from Granny's house, and I had to remind her that if I did come to pick her up, it would be just to play together, then she would go right back to Granny's house. It'll take time to sink in. Gina suggested we have her stay over here on a weekend at some point, but the therapist had cautioned against that as it would confuse her on where her home was. We'll let her settle in again and figure it out later.
And as for me? It was simply cathartic to finally see that license happen. And even better, Gina hadn't gotten the news yet when I called her to plan the move, and so I told her. Her response was so full of joy and relief that it just washed away any doubt that this was not a good move. These weren't doubts from anything Gina had done or anything, but from Caterpillar's relative backing out after his move. She is fostering Cricket because she loves her granddaughter and wants her granddaughter to benefit from having her sister with her, but it's clear she also truly loves Cricket as well. So, I'm feeling mostly positive emotions right now, besides concern for how the boys are doing. And I'm grateful. I'm grateful we got to love her and know her, I'm grateful she has other people who love her, and I'm grateful we learned so much in the process.
Cricket was thrilled, but still asked when I was going to pick her up from Granny's house, and I had to remind her that if I did come to pick her up, it would be just to play together, then she would go right back to Granny's house. It'll take time to sink in. Gina suggested we have her stay over here on a weekend at some point, but the therapist had cautioned against that as it would confuse her on where her home was. We'll let her settle in again and figure it out later.
And as for me? It was simply cathartic to finally see that license happen. And even better, Gina hadn't gotten the news yet when I called her to plan the move, and so I told her. Her response was so full of joy and relief that it just washed away any doubt that this was not a good move. These weren't doubts from anything Gina had done or anything, but from Caterpillar's relative backing out after his move. She is fostering Cricket because she loves her granddaughter and wants her granddaughter to benefit from having her sister with her, but it's clear she also truly loves Cricket as well. So, I'm feeling mostly positive emotions right now, besides concern for how the boys are doing. And I'm grateful. I'm grateful we got to love her and know her, I'm grateful she has other people who love her, and I'm grateful we learned so much in the process.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)