Noisy. Colorful. Lively.

Or – Dinner: The Hawthorne effect

Or- I can think of a better way to spend my Friday night

Or- The child’s been here a month and we’re just getting around to this now because…????

I’ve been contacted by one of children’s services contracted organizations. They want to come and observe Pink so that she can be evaluated for services she may need. This wouldn’t really be a big deal except the observation can only happen after 5pm or on the weekends. And the initial email I received said it may take 3-4 hours. THREE to FOUR HOURS????!!!! For a four year old??? Whaaa???

Anyway, so apparently the worker’s already compiled some information, so it should only take about two hours now.

Oh. Well. In that case….

So, sometime after 5pm tomorrow, we’ll be trying to make, serve and eat dinner, spend some family time together and put kids to bed while Pink is being observed.

I. Don’t. Even. Know.

Just when I think I’ve seen it all, just when I think I have a handle on this fostering thing they throw something new out there.

I think I’m just gonna laugh and use lots of passive aggressive saracasm and make really awkward jokes and snort laugh at them… because if I don’t laugh, well, you know…

My smile is getting tight. It may take more muscles to frown, but it sure is a workout to force my lips up when they want to turn down.

This case worker is driving me bananas.

I’m not one to complain about child services. Generally speaking, I think they’re doing the best with what they have. I think most of the employees there are well meaning. I do believe that they are making a difference.

Pink’s caseworker, formerly D’s caseworker is the exception.

And I seriously want to scream. My entire Monday has been spent waiting by my phone waiting to see what her plans for Pink’s day are so that I can get on with mine. And of course, she calls and tells me one thing. Then calls back 1/2 hour later to change her mind. Because she’s done nothing she’s supposed to do so far. And the hearing is right around the corner. And I really thought having so many other people on the case would make things better. I really did believe that.

Apparently the team is only as strong as it’s weakest link.

Which is unacceptable when there are kids on the line.

RAAAAARRRRR!!!!!

I feel better now. Thanks.

Pretty Pink has the same case worker as D.

The same worker who managed to make a simple open/shut case that should have been resolved in 30 days last EIGHT MONTHS!!!

This time, though, the supervisors have wised up. She has a shadow caseworker/mentor/back up guy? The kid has a CASA (miracles, do happen!), the ad litem (child’s attorney) has already called, one of our contracting services has already been in touch and is making arrangements for basic psych and physical evals for Pink.

In other words, a whole helluva lot a people are doing this woman’s job.

So when she called yesterday and said she wanted to be here at 8:30 this morning to visit before she went to a meeting about the case (heh!) and mentioned that she still hasn’t organized visitations (which we emailed about LAST WEEK) AND that the most important key to this case (a certain DNA test) still hasn’t been done, I almost threw my phone out the window.

But I didn’t. I smiled so she’d hear it and said “OK. (too high and strained like) We’ll just see you in the morning then.”

So when she called this morning to tell me she’s going to be late (shock!) (sarcasm.) I just rolled my eyes, heavy sighed and said “we’re here, get here when you can…”

I was SOOOO certain this case was over in a month. Now I’m having my doubts….

And you can be sure, I’ve already got a list started to take to the president if I have to. Madness I tell you.

Madness!

And big feelings beget big feelings.

And tantrums beget tantrums.

And when you have a pair, things tend to happen in pairs. Oy.

And Leo bears the brunt of it. I think partly because he simply doesn’t have as many hours logged with them, partly because he’s quiet and mild, partly because he gets them at the end of the day when all of the reminders of abuse and abandonment have had time to fester.

Pretty Pink has fresh big feelings and she seems to be a reminder to Simeon that he has some old ones he hasn’t aired out in a while. Now’s as good a time as any, right? Right.

I work two nights/week. I’m gone as soon as Leo gets home and return after the kids have gone to bed. It’s a wonderful job that I enjoy. I’m paid well for the few hours I work. It doesn’t demand much of me outside of that time. It’s not just a job, it’s a ministry and I’m so thankful for it. But, when I know that leaving could mean that the following two or three hours for Leo are spent wrestling dragons, it’s hard.

I get the best of them. I get them early in the day and then, during the witching hours (4 to dinner), I either leave or get a partner to help distribute the yuck. Two nights/week, Leo comes home to the witching hours and stays.

Alone.

My brave knight.

I guess I’m just in awe of my Mr. I’m proud of his hard work and I want very much to be more like him. Fostering has changed us in a great many ways, but he’s no less mild, no less quiet and no less kind than he was before we started. And I think he’s stronger than I realized.

I don’t usually say our kids are lucky. They’ve lived through hell and we’re not exactly a pot of gold at the end of that rainbow. But in this case, they are lucky. Or, rather they’re blessed. I am too. And proud.

[insert cheesy swoon here]

He’s MY hero.

And this, Leo, is a very small [anonymously shouted from the roof tops] THANK YOU. For the very great things you do. I love you.

The kids do, too. Even if they have a unconventional violent disturbing funny way of showing it.

Some of my favorite foster/adoptive mommies have posted about the dysregulation, anxiety, etc. in their homes.

I just came home from a few hours out to find out both of our kids have lost their ever-lovin’ minds.

For real?! Mommies, know that you are not alone right now. You are not alone.

I’m raising my virtual glass of strongly mixed adult beverages in your honor tonight.

You know that really awkward moment when you tell your family, friends and the internet that you’ve said yes to a sibling group of three and you panic and your head is all swimming and then DFCS calls back and says…. “yeah… we worked something out. We’re going to try this a while, but we’ll call you if this doesn’t work. So, thanks”

You know, that awkward moment.

Well it just happened.

So we’re laughing. Because you know if you don’t laugh at these things…

Let the panic begin!

So right now we have Simeon. And our Pink Princess. And tomorrow evening we will be opening our doors to Liberty (not her name). She’s one of the three I mentioned in previous post.

Then when our Pink Princess returns home (very soon??) we’ll be making room for Liberty’s twin brother Peace (name it and claim it, right?) and their baby sister Joy (also, not her name).

Liberty was “released” from daycare and that was just the thing that needed to happen to get these kids moved. Her issues aren’t nearly as scary as I was initially led to believe. She actually sounds exactly like Simeon did when he came into care. Peace is much quieter, much more still and I think, may be more my speed. And Joy is a tiny little bit still. We had her her first six weeks of life and I’m looking forward to loving on her again. She was such an easy newborn and I’m really hoping she’s an easy infant.

Tonight we’re fixing beds and car shopping.

I’m scared. Terrified, really. But I’m trusting and prayerful. I imagine the next few weeks will be spent on my knees, on my face and perhaps, locked in the bathroom.

So… my little pink princess is still doing well. She’s got as much baggage as one would expect, but she’s really a great kid. And she and Simeon are the best of friends. I’m kind of amazed, all the time.

Still, as often happens with new placements, big feelings are happening all up in this house. And the other day we made a break through: After Simeon had a particularly sour morning, I found him sulking in his room. We snuggled up, back to the door, shutting out the world and bore our hearts. Simeon wept, and wept. He thought he was angry about having to share a broken dinosaur toy, but really what broke his heart was knowing he would be saying goodbye again. I held my little boy as he sobbed “I just wanna ‘dopt all de kids…” and “I wanna have kids forever” and “I wanna ‘nother ‘doption kid to play with [sob] forever!!!…”

And my heart broke for him. And my heart broke for myself and Leo and all of the goodbyes we’ve had these past few years. Living so many goodbyes is not easy. It simply is not easy.

When Leo and I began this fostering gig, we were doing it as a temporary ministry on our way to what we thought was a different mission. Then Simeon arrived and nearly three years later, we see that we were wonderfully wrong. We never planned on adopting. It simply wasn’t something we had even expected to happen, but then it did. And after October, we talked again and though we aren’t opposed to adopting again, it just didn’t seem like something we’re really ready to plan for. So here we are, contented fostering more and knowing there’s a sibling group of three who may need a forever home, and really weighing that, but certainly not committing (or even being asked to right now). Meanwhile, our son is growing a heart for adoption and longing for more family.

And Leo and I are continuing forward in supplication. We don’t know what’s in store for our family, but we’re certainly open to whatever it is. All the while, we wrap Simeon tighter and we try to teach him about compassion and hard goodbyes and the richness that can be found in living in hard places (which here is still a life of excess and privilege, right?)

I frequently get emails and comments (both virtual and IRL) suggesting that we take a break from fostering for Simeon’s sake. Because why break his heart more, right? Because us signing up for this doesn’t mean that he did, etc. And I get it. And I appreciate it. But here’s why we’ve decided to keep foster familying (becasue we’re more than just parents here) in spite of heart-break:

1. This is a calling we feel for our FAMILY (which now includes Simeon) and will continue, prayerfully, to heed that calling.

2. Because as much as it hurts to watch my son experience pain, I know that I can’t protect him from heart-break, and here, I know the goodbyes are good and worthy and I feel it’s better for him to be heartbroken in safe and loving arms. Here we can teach him how to be strong, and good hurts verses bad hurts.

3. because my five year old boy already has enough compassion to hug a hurting child who arrives late at night scared and shy. Because my mommy’s boy thinks on his own about sharing my hugs with a child whose mother isn’t around for hugs. Because my rough and tumble boy will take up a tiny hand and whisper “you’re safe, you’re loved”. Because my dirty, smelly boy will gladly give of his to make sure a child who arrives with nothing has something to play with.

4. because he’s learning that the world can be a dark and scary place, but that he can be a safe house, a light, a comfort and compassion to those who have none.

5. because my son is learning to love the unlovable, desire the undesirable, give when he doesn’t really feel like giving and say goodbye even when it breaks his heart because it’s best for the other person.

6. because my son sees that there is so much good he can do, even in simple acts. And he’s learning confidence and pride and humility.

7, Because my son who now receives so much ,whatever he whims, is learning to give. To give of his space, his food, his toys, the clothes off his back, the socks off his feet, his friends, his parents’ love. And the best part is, that he really is learning to do it with joy.

8. Because my son knows that the world is bigger than his backyard, than his neighborhood, than his food, his church, his traditions. Because we’re learning about others together, as a family.

9. Because he’s learning to make room in life. And while he longs for permanency, he’s learning that there’s a lot of wonderful surprises that come with inviting others in (like a friend who longs to picnic under the climbing tree as much as he does).

10. Because he can see how loved and valued and desired he is. Because he cannot take for granted the sweetness and richness of this life he’s been chosen for and he cannot deny that in a perfect world, all of these children should be afforded the same: love, warmth, food, imagination, laughter…

Favorite color: Pink

Favorite food: Pink

Favorite movie: Pink

Favorite animal: Pink

Favorite toy: Pink. Princesses.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have myself the girliest of girls. Which is wonderful. And little overwhelming.  She is a beautiful African Princess of a little girl. I spoke to her father last night, and though his accent was so thick I could barely understand what he was saying, I understood that he loved his daughter and wants her back. Now. 

So far it sounds like one of those really uncomfortable cases where one parent fails epically while the other parent isn’t looking and everything falls apart. I’ve seen it before and it’s really sad. But the good news is that this child is loved and wanted and important to somebody. We have her a for the rest of the month for sure. I’d be shocked if she stays past the next hearing. 

She’s tall. Nearly as tall as I am (not terribly impressive, I know, but for a four year old!). She’s thin. She has braids that rise up to the crown of her head in the most becoming of fraggle rock chic. She’s soft spoken. She’s sad. But shopping helped. Which is something I know a lot about. So, so far we’re working. 

Simeon, ever the hero has been seriously amazing. He was so warm and welcoming to her last night. Encouraged her not to be sad. Told her she was safe. Told her we would be her family. All without prompting. After dinner he asked her if she knew about ‘doption days. “You’d like it. It’s fun. You gets bubble gum.” He was super excited that she is brown like him. “But she’s a lot brown and I’m only a little brown.” Which I find absolutely hysterical. Leo had a good talk about what a beautiful, perfect shade of brown Simeon is. Not that he needed any convincing. He shared his bedtime routine and his transformer toothpaste. I know by now I shouldn’t be, but I am always in awe of my child’s capacity to love and give and stretch for others in need. He is my little hero. 

It’s now quarter to eight and both children are still sleeping. Which is at once a miracle and a blessing. But I do hear the rumbling of Simeon feet, so I’m going to steal a few quite moments with him before our little Pinkalicious wakes. 

Have a wonderful day, y’all!

I find it incredibly disheartening that I go so long between posts that WordPress begins to doubt my willing readiness to write and logs me out. So…

Life’s been pretty blissfully slow. Which is good. Except I was so enamored with all the free hours in my day, I went and joined the Y. Funny. I keep seeing the skinny girls I went to HighSchool with still impossibly thin. Only now they’re not just skinny, they’re skinny, and have given birth to multiple children and own their own cupcake business. Psht! And if I dash to avoid bumping into one of them, I’m bound to run headlong into a former student. Who wants to chat. And asks me if I remember their names. Which I don’t. But anyways… That’s not the riveting kind of story I logged on to post about today.

Earlier this week I had one of those dreams where I’m shopping for a new house and find bigger rooms hidden that are “just perfect for new kids” and kitchens that expand with the press of a button and other wonderfully magical, domestic-ish things.

And Simeon has prayed for kids every single morning the past week.

So Leo says he’s not surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.

Today I got a call. And though I said we’d only do emergency placements for a while, I reserve the right to renege on my plans anytime I choose. My husband loves this about me, I think.

So, we said yes to a 4yo girl. I don’t know much about her, but that she was being neglected and now her mother’s being detained. There is a man who claims paternity and wants her and is a good enough guy, but we have to wait for all the red tape, etc. We’re expecting the placement to last about a month. Which means she could leave Monday, or in eight months, or never. Whatevs.

I’m actually excited about having a little girl around. We spent tonight rearranging her room. I’ll run to the store in the morning and pick up some girl toys, because y’all, I have nothing but legos, transformers, and legos-ish transformers ’round here.

So, I may be back to tell you more soon. We’ll see. Word to your motha. Out.