Easter 2012 vs 2013

2012- first Easter with foster kiddos! I remember being so excited about doing Easter baskets for Da Boys; it was their first or second week with us and they were still on pretty good behavior.

I bought Easter baskets for everyone (including Greg) and my sister and brand-new boyfriend (now her fiancee) came down for a visit and laid out an Easter egg hunt in the backyard.

Their grandmother had sent them little pants & vest combos and they were excited to wear them.

I even wrangled a picture with both of them; it was my phone background for months.

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2013- 2nd Easter with foster kids. These kiddos we've had for much longer, they sort of feel like (and could pass for) our own kids.

I went bananas buying co-ordinating outfits (so cute!!) and we even made a special effort to join G's parents at their church so they could show off their "grandkids."

Check out that color coordination!

G's grandparents were there too and Grandpa Ed and Baby A, who are special buds, enjoyed hanging out together.

How cute are they?!

It was a special time. Best holiday we've had to date.

Holidaze

Man, I tell you what- I'm plum worn out from the holidays.

I'm back at work today (12/26) and am secretly glad about it.

The holidays are rough with foster kids. Every one of the big 3 has been a absolute or near disaster.

Halloween- costumes? score. Free lions' costume for Baby A. Made a cute black cat costume for Miss M, she wore it for a week. Day of? Diaster. We went to our friend's house to Trick or Treat in their posh neighborhood and not only did we run 45 minutes late, but we only trick or treated for 30 minutes (M tripped over her own feet and spilled all of her candy no fewer than 3 times), then back at the house, she refused to eat any of the provided food and split her lip playing with the other kids upstairs. We left early.

Thanksgiving: Baby A and I were sick. Missed half of Thanksgiving dinner, due to unconsciousness. Tried to spend the night at in-laws house. Utter hell.

 Miss M fell asleep on the couch and had to be moved to a bed, which woke her up; crying ensued. Baby A wouldn't sleep in his pack and play; I got up with him, got head butted for my trouble. We both cried. Packed up and went home the next morning. Everyone slept better in their own beds.

Christmas: Multiple celebrations AT OUR HOUSE (we learned from Thanksgiving)- with former foster parents, with my folks, with G's folks and by ourselves.  Only one out of the four was a near disaster.

Christmas Eve was nice- had dinner and presents with the in-laws at our place- until the very end, when Miss M, who'd been under the weather all day, had a melt-down at the end of opening presents. Just completely worn out and emotional, crying for her 'real Dad'. Which was both heartbreaking... and totally inappropriate- considering he didn't even bother to pretend that he got them Christmas gifts at his last visit. Besides, as I'm figuring out, crying for her dad is really just code for: "I'm tired and emotional, please rock me."

So I did- hustled her off to bed, soothed and petted her.

Missed Baby A walking unaccompanied, but at least she got to bed (not that she STAYED THERE. Gah.) Thank God my in-laws are the kindest, most gracious people on the planet.

Calmest by FAR was on actual Christmas Day, where we stayed, just the 4 of us, in our pajamas all day, took lots of naps, and played quietly.
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I understand now why parents with young kids don't leave the house very much. It's too much fucking work and trauma to go anywhere or DO anything. Please someone tell me this gets better?
Am I doing something wrong? Are most holidays hellish? Is this a foster thing? or a little kid thing?

So yeah. I'm glad to be at work, away from the noise and emotion, mess and angst of the kiddos. Bring on the year-end paperwork.

Thanksgiving

I'm thankful for my family-- in-laws, parents, assorted nieces, nephews and grandparent who love on, care for and celebrate Miss M and Baby A every chance they get.

A year ago we proudly hosted Thanksgiving in our newly remodeled house and fielded questions about our DHS home study and training classes.

This year, we gratefully decamped to Nana's house, where everyone giggled over the baby shoveling turkey and dressing into his little ravenous maw, and marveled at Miss M's dexterity at handling the scissors in an after dinner craft project with my sister.

(And we won't talk about the late night repercussions of an off-kilter eating and sleeping schedule.)

What a difference a year makes, indeed. It's been a for better and worse kind of deal, but I'm thankful for the experience and these kids, nonetheless


Pic: G's 92 year old grandpa, lovin on Baby A.