Angel Tree with the Least of These

~crossed posted from Salvation Army Tulsa Blog~

My daughter is a 'least of these'. She's actually my foster daughter and has been in DHS custody for over a year; she and her younger brother have been with my husband and I since July of this year. They were placed with us about a week after I started my job as a grant writer here at Salvation Army. These kids are hilarious, fun, exhausting and challenging; we love it, but we are finding that we have to be very intentional about teaching them "Life Lessons,"while we can.

My husband and I have always shopped for Angels off the Angel Tree in the past, usually one for him- a boy- and one for me- a girl. This year, we have 2 little ones to buy for already, but I was loathe to give up tradition. So this year, I decided to include our foster kids.

We made it out to the Angel Tree kickoff at Promenade Mall. At age 5, Miss M (as we call her in blog-land) was unimpressed with the kickoff in general--too loud. But she did like the girls' singing group, MP3, in their matching outfits and "shiny hair."

MP3 girls group at the Angel Tree Kickoff (11/17/12)

After Kickoff, we picked out a Angel from the big tree, just her age, named "Lisbeth" and set off to pick out some gifts for "her Angel."

At first, she did a great job of picking out toys. She "ennie meenie mineie mo'd" between which Baby Alive doll 'Lisbeth' was to get- Hair Salon Baby Alive or Magic Meals Baby Alive.

Hair Salon, duh.

But she struggled a bit with stocking stuffers, as we picked out Hello Kitty stickers and pencils and Disney princess playing cards. I gently asked her if she was picking out things for herself or for Lisbeth, and she admitted they were for her. But soon we were back on the right track.

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Every time we added something to the bag, we would talk a little about what we were doing and why. In my own blundering, non-parental way, I tied to impress on her how it is important to share what she has, to be grateful for those who love her and that there is always someone who has less than you do.

M's letter to her Angel

Miss M is pretty smart, but I think the literal and logistics of the Angel Tree, may have gotten blurry during our conversations. She asked me, the day I went to take the Angel Tree bag in to work, "How will she get them {the toys}, up in Heaven?" I stifled a giggle and tried to explain that our "Angel" was a real girl, just like her, and that she needed extra toys and we were like her personal Santa! How fun!

Santa, she understood.

And boy, I felt like Santa, when I went to check in and shelve Lisbeth's Angel bag.

I walked past row after row of shelves, 3 levels high, with toy bags packed in, till I found Lisbeth's family bag.

Turns out, she's the youngest of 4 girls. And her bag was the last one to be added to the families' bag. Those lovely little girls would all get all their hearts desired, thanks to people they didn't know.

As I marked the bag tag with a big "C" for  "Complete," I felt the warehouse dust prick my nose. And eyes. Lots of tear-inducing dust in the warehouse.

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 And I don't know about you, but I've been near tears many times since (including today, as I wrote this post), thinking about the poor babies in Newtown, Connecticut. So close in age to Miss M and Lisbeth and so many of my friends' kids. So close to Christmas. Lodged in our hearts and the back of our throats.

But as a donor said to me this afternoon, as I took her donation for the Angel Tree over the phone, "it's the least I can do for kids in need, especially this Christmas."

So, do what you can. Shine a light in the dark. There is always someone more in need than you. Miss M can attest.

--Vicki

Torn

Many of you no doubt laughed when I proclaimed our new placement "easy".
And the kids ARE pretty easy--Baby A is happy & busy, except for when he's hungry. Lady M is wonderfully lively & chatty, vocal about her likes & dislikes & demands things her way. But she is easy to redirect & frankly, easier than either of The Boys in terms of behavioral issues.

What is not easy about this placement are the circumstances. What was supposed to be a temporary respite visit has, due to health issues, turned into the kids needing a new foster family. And although we agreed to respite care, we felt enormous pressure (mostly from the foster parents, an assumption almost) to take the kids as a permanent placement.

And it's tempting.

And heart-breaking.

But it's not what we signed up for- in terms of some of the kids' issues & their situation (which I obviously can't disclose here).

So, we still have them. And will take them to daycare (in Collinsville), and will read them stories (2, in a rocking chair), go for walks & paint fingernails until their new "Momma & Daddy" can be found.

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!"

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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.