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.

Crocodile love

This little guy.  I just have to tell you how adorable he is.


He grins from cheek to cheek, showing off these perfect little white teeth.


He has adorable toddler-speak, lots of "mine tan't do it" "go outide" "openinin it," etc.


He has a serious toddler arm.  You'll be half paying attention to a game of catch, and then he'll suddenly pitch a ball overhand at your face.  Not maliciously, he just doesn't know how hard he can throw.


He just runs and will not put on the brakes.  There are some serious high-impact hugs.  And I let him run ahead of me at the dentist office knowing he couldn't get out the big glass doors, and he just ran straight into the door.  Like a bird that didn't see it.  He was okay.


He's built like he's made of rubber.  He just bounces off of something and keeps running.


He loves to help and brings me all the clean dishes from the dishwasher.  And the dirty dishes that I don't want him me to bring.


He's determined.  He likes the little rings on our swing set and asks me to pick him up so he can hang from them.  I saw him run inside to get a stool and wasn't sure where this was going.  He put it under the rings and stretched up with all his might even though they were so far away, so cute.


His little dance moves are fantastic.


So, he is a busy guy that wears me out, and the other boys are still adjusting to him, but man, he is a cutie.  I'll be honest that I'm going to have to work hard at keeping my heart in check here and not start wishing for what's not mine to wish for.

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

• 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.

What I Loved about Cricket

• 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."

Indeed.  I love you forever, little girl.  I know you're not staying with us forever, but if you did, I would pick you up 10,000 times.

Some good things

• As dramatic as last night was, Cricket slept soundly through the night.
• Cricket and Rhinoceros have jumped back into their pretend play that only they understand.  Rhinoceros keeps yelling about Cricket being on his team.
• Gina recently had Cricket's hair braided, so I've got almost zero hair work to do.
• A sibling visit happened to be scheduled for this weekend, so we've already gotten together at the library with sister, Gina, baby brother, brother's foster parents.  Baby brother's only word is "hi" and he melts your heart when he says it to you.
• We watched an Annie montage by Cricket's request and she ran/danced around the library while singing "I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here."  (Thankfully the kids' area is on a separate floor and there's no shushing.)
• What was supposed to be a gloomy day cleared up and we got outside, which is good, because tough times for Cricket equal tons of energy she needs to get out.
• I think we tired her out, because I haven't heard a peep since B put her to bed.

More good things

Someday I'll come up with a thoughtful series of these, but for now I'm just going to write them when I'm feeling joyful and thankful.  Then try to remember to read them when I feel less so.

- Cricket, when she saw snow in the morning: "It's... It's Christmas!!"  She keeps saying that now and then, like when we made a snowman.  I can't stop loving it.

- We've tried an incentive for quiet voices in the car (i.e., no screaming just because you know it terrorizes the other people in the car), and Cricket is totally going for it.  Also, putting down one of the fold-and-go seats has given everyone more room and less potential for freaking out because someone bumped into you.  My blood pressure no longer increases every time we head toward the car.

- We checked out books at the library without Cricket attacking the library checkout computer or anyone flopping around on the floor.

- I got a membership at a family rec. center place where I can work out and bring the kids to the child care.  I needed more built-in, no-calling-sitters-necessary break time, and I'm glad I just went ahead and did it, even though the cheapskate in me resisted.  We went once already and they had fun playing and I loved the break.

- Dinosaur has worked harder at saying kind things to Cricket, and some are so sweet.  A neighbor boy also has a soft spot for Cricket and keeps inviting her to do things with him.

- We won a raffle through our agency for 3 hours of house cleaning!!  Every foster parent should get this.

- We watched almost the a whole Veggie Tales movie all on the couch together in complete peace.

These may sound like little things, but they are huge for me.  Every day is an intense emotional battle for me and the things I need to deal with in my heart.  God has broken me apart piece by piece, but He is also building something beautiful in all of us.

Some good things

I feel like my blog is a downer.  I won't stop being real about how difficult the last two months have been, but I need to throw in some happy stuff from today.

- B as the go-to person for when Cricket's bedtime and if she wakes up at night has worked so, so much better than me trying to be involved at all.  Last night she woke up twice, but he told her to lie down, and she did, no drama.  Everyone back to sleep.

- Cricket spontaneously offered stickers to Dinosaur.  Then they started asking each other for hugs and did a good job of telling each other when they needed space.

- The kids got dressed this morning in a reasonable amount of time, and Cricket didn't act out to get attention when I was helping Rhinoceros get dressed.  This is huge.

- Cricket and Rhinoceros sometimes do the most adorable pretend play, like praying before a meal.  For some reason after they say "amen," they start running around in circles, but I'll take it.

- We've been practicing "with permission and supervision" from The Connected Child to ask before using grown-up things.  Cricket asked for a butter knife to cut her grapes, and I realized, sure, she could try that with permission and supervision.  She did a great job AND it kept her at the table for lunch longer so I could eat.  And of course Rhinoceros wanted the positive attention and asked for a knife, too.  Something I never pictured with a two-year-old, but it totally works!

Sweet Cricket moments

Among the painful parenting experiences I've had lately, there are some sweet, sweet moments straight from God I need to share as well.

Cricket stops fighting eventually (very eventually) and quietly, softly asks to be rocked.  She brings me Chicka Chicka Boom Boom to read and I read it.  Then she "reads" it herself, letters all out of order.  The woman who leads a play group we attend talks about the parts of a book every time she reads a story to the kids, and so when Cricket finished reading she said "The end, and the back cover."

Another time she selects Chicka Chicka Boom Boom and at the end seems so peaceful that I ask if she wants me to read it again.  She says yes, and quickly falls asleep through the second reading.  In years of singing and rocking children to sleep, I've never had a child fall asleep before end of the book, leading me to read the last words with extra tenderness and sweetness.

Another time she falls asleep as I rock her, then I carefully place her in her bed.  She rolls her head my direction and opens her eyes, and I fear the whimpering cries that have started up again at times.  Instead, she looks directly at me with a look I can only describe as loving, then closes her sweet eyes and goes back to sleep.

And did I mention she loves Tomorrow from Annie?  She sings it on her own, asks me to sing it, sings along with me all throughout the day, along with her other favorite song, Jesus Loves Me.

Blessed by Caterpillar

We already saw Caterpillar again today.  I was going to wait a month or so and drop off his photobook/life book, but I found some medication-related things I needed to get to his new foster mom that meant sooner would be better.

It was good timing, as this morning Dinosaur had said sadly, "I want to kiss a baby."  He got his wish, and Caterpillar was really into looking at him.  He wasn't very smiley, but he's not always so smiley.  With him and Pterodactyl, I swear you can read their minds when they're uneasy.  They don't cry, but they just look you right in the eye and practically say, "I'm not sure what's going on" with their serious looks.  It was still good to see him, though.  Same cutie as a week ago.

Time for me to do my reflections on how I was blessed by Caterpillar, as I did with Pterodactyl and Beetle.

What I learned from Caterpillar

• Starting after the newborn stage is fun and so much easier.  I'd never had a child that I didn't meet in the newborn stage, so I wasn't sure what bonding would be like.  It was no problem for us, and Caterpillar's adjustment to our home was pretty smooth.  Don't get me wrong, I still love newborns, though they're hard on our family and we will probably only take so many more of them.
• B can bond emotionally with foster babies.  This hadn't been the case as much in the past.
• Hair care can be intense.  I had to do a lot more research about methods and products just to keep his full head of black hair healthy.
• Health concerns can be intense.  While Caterpillar was healthy overall, he had one issue that no one knew if it was really a concern or just the way he was.  We had lots of specialist appointments trying to figure it out.
• I can use phone and text to form positive relationships with birth parents.  This was new territory, and I know it helped me be a better foster parent, and I hope it gave some comfort to Caterpillar's mom that she could contact me between visits.

What I loved about Caterpillar

• His sweet charm.  You can't quite put it into words, because while he was less serious than Pterodactyl, he was still on the serious side.  But you just wanted to spend time with him, watching his expressions.  He was literally the life of the party at a BBQ we went to right before he moved.  He will be such a fun little boy; I just know it.
• His hair.  He liked when I massaged his scalp a little, playing with his dense tiny curls, which is good, because I did it without even thinking.
• His laidback nature.  He napped when he was tired, never for long, but always so flexible.  We got to do lots of fun things with him because he was so easy to take places.  Day-to-day life with him really was a joy, rarely stressful.
• That he sucked on his two fingers, just like Rhinoceros.
• His love for baths.  I have a picture of him grinning at himself in the mirror during a bath that is one of my favorite pictures of my babies, ever.
• His love for music.  The day after he arrived, I sang to Caterpillar while rocking him, and he instantly perked up, stared at me, and started cooing along.  I will never forget our family dance parties to "I Feel Good," just loving the pure joy he had when we sang just the right song to him.

Happy Birthday to Me

As I reflect on this past year of my life, I notice that it is the year we started foster care and the year I first noticed grey hairs.  Coincidence?  I think not.

I know I don't have a vast number of readers, but I'm suspicious that beyond the bloggers I know and the internet robots, there might be a few of you lurking there.  So, for my birthday, readers, introduce yourself a little bit in the comments.  What's your connection to foster care?  What's one other fun fact about you?

Blessed by Pterodactyl

I mentioned that I had a few reasons for wanting the twins as a placement.  One reason was to have a connection to Pterodactyl.  I realized that wasn't a very important reason when there were other things to consider, but I couldn't help but picture monthly sibling visits and getting to see her.  I haven't seen her for about two months, and though I don't think about her constantly, I miss her.  I tried suggesting that her grandma call us for respite, but it hasn't happened.

So, I'm going to connect in my own way and write up the same thing for her that I just wrote for Beetle.

What I Learned from Pterodactyl

• I learned that the time after a baby's birth can be heartbreaking instead of joyous.  Even though my first days with my biological babies were not perfect, I will not take for granted the happy memories.
• I learned that foster care is full of awkward situations.
• I learned having birth parents at doctor's appointments can be a great thing.  Even when it's awkward.
• I learned my biological sons love babies and have big hearts.
• I learned that some birth parents will disappoint us, and that it's important to assume the best even when it's a stretch of the imagination.
• I learned that the future is never certain.  I learned this about Pterodactyl's future with us, but I see my children's future differently now.  I realized how easily and readily I imagine future days that are not promised to me, that I'm not entitled to.
• I learned that I'm more selfish and judgmental than I thought I was.

What I Loved about Pterodactyl

• Concerned expression.  Pterodactyl is by far the most serious baby I've ever met, and Dinosaur was not a particularly smiley baby.  Even when she smiled and laughed, within seconds she went back to this look of "What do you think you're doing exactly?" It was so much a part of her that it cracked us up.
• Cheeks.  I'd never had a baby with cheeks!
• Hair.  She was born with lots of silky hair, which took on a life of its own.  It did make me nervous at times that I wasn't caring for it properly despite my best efforts to be informed, but how much fun to have a baby with a full head of hair.
• Baby girl clothes.  If I never have a girl again, a selfish little part of me is happy that I had the chance to enjoy shopping for baby girl clothes.  And I'm not usually much of a shopper.
• Her love for baths.  It was a nice time to be just the two of us.
• Her low-pitched little baby voice.  At 7 months by the time she moved, she wasn't talking, but when she made little noises, they were these quiet little things.  Her (very rare) laugh was like "heh heh."
• Her name.  I can't share it, of course, but her mom picked a name that I had never heard before and may have never chosen for my own child because pronunciation difficulties, but I thought it was just beautiful all the same.  I loved saying it.  I'm dying to know what she's going to name the twins.

I'm sending out a prayer that whatever Pterodactyl is up to right now (hopefully sleeping), she feels a little bit of peace knowing that I still love her, over here in my house with an empty nursery.

For all those so worried about my bio kids and fostering

This morning, Dinosaur and I were having a fun chat about what grown-ups do, and I asked him the usual "what do you want to do when you grow up" question.  Most recently, his answer had been fix cars (one grandpa's career) and fix computers (dad's career).

But today he said, "I want to help people.  And take care of a baby."

My eyes filled with tears.  This is my son that has never tended toward helping or caring for others.  He didn't say this after I gave birth to his younger brother.  He said this after he saw that we take care of babies, and that this helps people.

I know they get less attention because we're busy with fostering.  I know they feel the goodbyes with more confusion and hurt than they express.  Beetle is scheduled to move one week from today (but you know how foster care goes), and I ache when Dinosaur declares how much he loves Beetle, and Rhinoceros asks "Where's Beetle?"  But oh, what they learn.  I need to remember to pray over these little guys, that their hearts grow, and they grow up to do much more to love others than I ever did.

Blessed by a break

Without fostering and work (I'm on break until the end of January), my life does not have its usual routine, and sometimes that can throw things off a bit.  But while there have been moments of blah, mostly I've happily bounced around making the most of this break.  I feel renewed, refreshed, and reconnected with my sons. 

Some of my blessings of being on a fostering and work break:

• I clearly have more time to blog.
• I got swept up in a great novel: The Girl You Left Behind by Jojo Moyes  It's nice not to be too tired to read and read when I love a book.
• More sleep is nice.  
• Less chaotic bedtimes and mealtimes are also nice.
• I can meet friends pretty much any time of day since I'm not planning around visits and baby naps, as Rhinoceros's nap is not 100% necessary.  Usually we went to our local children's museum during one of the weekly visits for Pterodactyl, as it's in walking distance from the agency, but we'd only have 45 minutes to spend there.  Last week we hung out there for 2 hours.  The kids had a blast, I chatted with mom friends who keep it real, and left very happy.
• I've had time to clean and organize, and I definitely needed to clean and organized.  It's refreshing.
• Winter weather is so much easier to enjoy without a baby.  When it hasn't been -10, we've gone sledding, played in the backyard, and Dinosaur tried ice skating for the first time with B.

And drum roll please...

• Overnight getaway with B tomorrow!!!  Yes, we could manage this while we have a foster child as well, but we knew it wasn't wise to hope it would work out while waiting for a new foster kid or adjusting to a new foster kid (who may not be okay with us going away).  My sweet brother and sister-in-law are coming over for their first overnight with the boys.

I'm also happy to feel like we're in a good place to go back on the call list on Monday.  We had chosen this date awhile back but with the understanding that we could delay it further if we were having a hard time with Pterodactyl's goodbye or just needed more of a break.  While we've been greatly blessed by this break, B and I were in agreement that it's time to get back into it.  Buckle up!

Join in and share your own blessings.  You can link up at a great fostering blog, Our Good Life.  (I think that's what I'm supposed to end this with.  Blog interactions are still new to me.)

Glimpses of Pterodactyl

I'll be honest, I'm not going to post many photos because I'm not that organized and I don't have a smart phone or DSLR.  I assume people who post six photos per day on their blogs have such things.  But since a lot of my posts have been wrestling with challenges of foster parenting, I thought I'd add some lighthearted non-identifiable glimpses of Pterodactyl.

 

Pterodactyl says, "Hedgehogs are the new owls."

Wistful but blessed

No news on when Pterodactyl is leaving yet, and I just have a wistfulness going on.  This is what we wanted, to care for kids as long as they need our home.  I knew my heart would be broken, and it isn't nearly as dramatic as it could have been.  Our first placement could have stayed for years and then moved on.  That actually happens.

But I'm just thinking about the things that will remind me of her when she's suddenly not here.  The Voice: I watched an entire season while sitting up with her in the middle of the night.  When I'm Gone by Anna Kendrick: the song she loves that her birth mom was playing at a visit as I came to pick her up, so relieved not to hear crying for once.  All the baby girl clothes: I almost became more of a shopping mom with my first chance to dress a baby girl.

I'll add a few blessings.  We are blessed to see her calm down from her fussiness and a glimpse of the person she will be.  That brings some of the wistfulness, but at the same time, I wouldn't trade those smiles and bright eyes for anything.  She is healthy and growing up well.  We are blessed to know this transition is coming, somewhat.  We are blessed to know that her grandma wants her very much.  We are blessed that she is making this transition now, not after years without really bonding with her grandma or brothers.  We are blessed to have foster parent friends that understand our bittersweet feelings.

My heart is torn, but we are blessed.  And we have God as our help, and God as Pterodactyl's help.  At church on Sunday, in a time of speaking out scripture, I heard someone quote Psalm 121:8.  I love this psalm, but had never focused on that particular verse.  There's a lot of coming and going in foster care.

Psalm 121

A song of ascents.

1 I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
    where does my help come from?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip—
    he who watches over you will not slumber;
4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord watches over you—
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand;
6 the sun will not harm you by day,
    nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord will keep you from all harm—
    he will watch over your life;
8 the Lord will watch over your coming and going
    both now and forevermore.