Friday, April 20, 2012
17 Days with The Boys
Due to DHS regulations, I cannot share any identifying information about our foster children on this blog (i.e. no proper names, identifying pictures or other information).
I think these pics of their bedroom illustrate the past two and a half weeks well.
Below: Day before they arrived; room styled to perfection.
What I can tell you is this: they are brothers, ages 6 & 8, about a year and a half apart, but only 1 year in school apart. They are friendly, active, exhuburant and delightful (most of the time).
They are also stubborn, have selective hearing and are far too clever for their own good (like most boys their age, I suppose).
I call them Big Bro and Little Bro on the blog.
They are different in their own ways, too of course.
Big Bro is shyer when meeting strangers, has more of a 'wall' up when being disciplined, glowers when displeased and has a slow smile when amused.
Little Bro is more gregarious with strangers, has deep dimples and his whole face splits into a grin when he laughs (which is often); when he's mad/sad/displeased/any negative emotion, he pouts. It's a rather impressive full body pout, though: whole body goes stiff, head drops and his bottom lip sticks waaaaay out.
Although they are African-American, the oldest has a 'white' sounding name. The younger has a very steriotypically black first name, but actually goes by his middle name, which is more 'white' sounding. Sometimes I wonder which name he will choose to use as he gets older.
The DHS workers tell us we are extremely lucky to have kids like these. It's their first placement and their situation was one of neglect, not abuse. And while they are not suffering from major physical trauma, they have behaviors and issues of their own.
It doesn't feel like we're lucky; they are a lot of work- they are so energetic that it's all Greg and I can do to collapse on the couch after we herd them into bed. And, from what we can tell, their home life was very unstructured (no formal bedtime, no chores, etc). So we are having to put into place those kinds of structures while also dealing with their energy, attitudes, feelings of abandonment, etc. Frankly my dear, it's exhausting.
We've had them for 17 days. 17 hilarious, chaotic, frustrating, joyful days.
Below: Day before they arrived; room styled to perfection.
Aaaaaand: This morning. Yup, two boys live here.
World's Most Embarassing Afternoon, a sequel to World's Worst Morning
After the Vomitus Morning of Doom, I came home from the the university where I teach to relieve Greg of his childcare duties (work from home flexibility, what what!).
That morning's excitement had been compounded by the fact that I myself did not feel good having been diagnosed with sinitus (or hateful sinuses) the day before.
That afternoon, after Little Bro had woken up and declared himself "feeling better now!" and we'd read together on the couch (awwww) and downloaded some new educational iPad apps, I laid for a nap, and set the alarm for an hour, which would have given me a good 20 minutes to get out the door to pick up Big Bro from school.
Two hours later, my phone rings, waking me and Little Bro, who's also fallen asleep, up with a start. It's the principal of the school, who sweetly asks if I intend on picking Big Bro up? Well, better hurry because the staff leaves in 15 minutes (which is bullshit, by the way; Extended Day staff is there till 6).
I apologize profusely, attempt to explain, apologize again and tell her I'm on my way.
Little Bro is stretching and pulling a blanket over his head as I tell him to get up (ack! get up!), so I pick him up (all 50+ pounds and almost 4 feet of him) and haul it to the car.
We careen into the school parking lot for the 2nd time that day, pick up Big Bro & hightail it back home, where I let them eat crackers on the new sofa and play on the iPad for the rest of the afternoon.
Worst Morning Ever- BAR NONE
Apparently, when a child says his stomach hurts...you should a) believe him & b) hustle him to the bathroom.
I did neither on Wednesday morning. And suffered greatly for it.
Little Brother awoke complaining of a tummy-ache and I was all, "Sorry to hear it, now get up." thinking he was stalling on getting up, as both the boys take foreeeeeeever to get out of bed on a typical school morning.
The words were barely out of my mouth before small fountain of vomit errupted from HIS mouth. Ah!
Greg (my husband) and Big Bro both muttered, "Gross!" as Little Bro continued to wretch in his bed. Gross is right.
When he stopped, I yanked him out of bed, hustled him to the bathroom, stripped him of his pajamas and had him kneel at the ivory throne. Poor guy.
The next wave came and he didn't really get much out.
And therein lies my fatal mistake. I assumed he was done.
Greg got both the boys dressed as i stripped the bed and threw the sheets, pillowcases, etc into the wash. Miraculously, we managed to get in the car and leave for school on time. We were literally 2 blocks from the school when Little Bro announced from the back seat that he was going to be sick again. And he was. Twice.
I could do nothing but look in horror, over my shoulder, as we were still in traffic. Big Bro kindly handed him some Wet Wipes as I mumbled, "ohshitohshitohshit". We careened into the school parking lot, whereupon Big Bro made a dash for the entrance, yelling "I'll tell his teacher he's sick!!!!!" In vain, I shouted, "You don't have to tell her, I'll call.....!!" while trying to wipe up watery vomit with Wet Wipes (not super effective).
Little Bro came home with me, slumped in the backseat, sick, covered in sick and generally miserable.
We got him situated on the couch with a puke bowl, a blanket and his stuffed racoon. He puked 1x more then fell asleep, exhausted.
I cleaned out the car, got dressed and went to teach my 10am class (watching a movie, thank god), while Greg stayed home with Little Bro.
What. A. Morning.
p.s. Shout out to our lovely friend, M.W. for the care package of apple juice, jello, crackers and apple sauce. He loved it and refers to the crackers as, "Mine, from when I was sick"
2nd trip to the Library
After school, I took the boys to the library. We had books and CDs to return and they were excited to get new ones!
Unfortunately, when we got to Hardesty Library, they seemed to be more interested in playing Power Rangers Samuri on Nick Jr.com, than picking out new books. Thank goodness there's a time limit on computer usage!
In the end, we got to do both- pick out new books for evening reading, some new CDs for their CD player (Toy Story, Veggie Tales and another They Might be Giants album).
As we were checking out, via librarian- instead of the machine- behaviors started to develop. There was a lot of dancing around and they got louder and louder. I'm sure the librarian was less than impressed with my croaking at them "get back here! You can't take the CDs out before you've checked it out! It'll set off the alarm! Come HERE!"
~~
We had no sooner gotten home and got unloaded, than Big Bro wanted to play Wii. When I told him no, he pouted. He asked about the iPad- got another no. Threw a fucking fit and earned himself a time-out. Had to remind him of the "screen time" rule (1 hr/day, max). I then tried something new, letting him know that it was his choice- he could choose what he wanted to spend his screen time on, in the future. He seemed to be intregued by this idea, if annoyed that he'd spent his time on the computer, instead of his beloved Wii. LOL.
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