Dinner with Papi

So, the blog's been quiet, which usually means that there's too much going on behind the scenes for me to share.

The same is true for the kids' custody issues- where I once worried that M wouldn't get to finish her school year, now I have to consider what we're gonna do with the kids this summer. But that's another topic for another post.

Visitations with the kids' dad- Papi- have been fairly consistent over the months we've had them- with the exception if Easter weekend. The day has shifted around a little, but now we're having visits in our home, Thursday evenings.

(I DEARLY miss the Sunday afternoon visits where he would take them out for several hours and leave G and I alone, blessedly alone.)

So, he comes over for dinner about 5:30,  plays with the kids while I cook, and we eat when G gets home 6ish. Then, he helps gives baths and puts them to bed.

The first few weeks few super awkward- he was real wrapped up in the kids, particularly Baby A-- M was practically climbing him in an attempt to get her fill of attention-- and he was so unsure what to do when it came to the nightly routine.

He was definitely in "learning mode"!

Now, he can give baths and monitor bedtime stuff practically on his own! So cool.

This is foster "bridging" as it's supposed to be- we are actively modeling discipline (which he reinforces), routine and care. And he gets to see how much we love his kids & we see how much they love him.

Dinner is still a little awkward (language barriers still pop up sometimes), but we're getting there.  

The Not-so-secret truth

{note: this post brought to you by Day 4 of Mega Tantrums and Extreme Stubbornness)

The truth is...if DHS wouldn't also take Baby A, I'd call them to come get Miss M today.

They truth is... I have deep deep doubts about whether we're getting through to her-- she's not learning from her mistakes and no amount of love, logic or discipline can break through her anger.

The truth is...I worry, almost constantly, about how her Papi will handle her tantrums when the family is reunited, but I also can't wait for that day to come.

The truth is...I've never been more frustrated or felt so unbelievably helpless in my life.

Full On Toddlerhood

Baby A is walking like a fiend! From really only starting to walk independently around Chrsistmas-time, he's now walking everywhere! And we've encouraged it. I make him walk from the changing table to his high chair for morning Cheerios, out to the car to go to daycare, etc.

So, I'm like insanely proud of him for walking like a big boy, but also a little annoyed.

He follows me everywhere, which Lola (our dog) already does. So now I've got two shadows! Hehe. It's pretty cute.

We went to Ohilbrook last weekend for their free 2nd Saturday event. Miss M & I did the art projects while Greg basically followed Baby A around, as he was exploring and having a grand time toddling up and down the ramps between floors.

He did great until near the end, when he turned into a slippery eel. If we tried to direct him by holding his hand, he'd either yank it out of our grasp or just immediately melt to the floor and start crying.

After he pulled that ish 3 or 4 times in a row, I blew the whistle on the excursion and we high tailed it to the car. Game over.

Still, we made it 2 hours or so, at the museum, before we hit Meltdown City.
I'll take what I can get!

How do you deal with toddler behaviors? What other joys of toddlerhood do I have to look forward to?

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.

Attitude of Gratitude

A few months ago, we had a sermon series on tithing, and all I could think about was teaching Miss M to give...my parents taught me to tithe & give when I was a little girl, and it has been a part of my life since I was 5 or 6. It's a big part of being a good steward, in Christian terminology, or just a plain old good citizen, I feel, to save some of your income and give some away.

Also, Thanksgiving is coming up and many of my friends are actively counting their blessings in daily status updates. Cultivating gratitude is indeed a daily exercise.

Frankly, though thankfulness can be a hard row to hoe when everyone else seems to have lots to be thankful for and I can't seem to get well enough to think straight! (Damn you, flu season )
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Along these lines, my mantra has been for the past several years: "Comparison is the thief of joy." This phrase has helped jealsous ol me through many a friend getting pregnant! I refuse to compare my family's situation with others. It not only steals my joy, but sours the happiness I have FOR them.

Another way of looking at this is that there is always someone who is gonna be better off than you, but likewise, someone who is likely worse off than you, no matter who low you fall!

All of this combines in my mind to come up with the question:

How do I teach my foster kids to give, 

even when they ARE The "least of these"? 

Miss M and Baby A are comparatively lucky: they is no longer in an abusive situation, and they are massively loved--by us, by their teachers, by their former foster parents, by a passel of friends and church workers-- and BONUS, have a parent that wants themback and is actively working to fulfill the obligations that DHS has required of them.

I want to cultivate an attitude of gratitude in Miss M. Right now, she's pretty selfish and "me me me"--typical 5 year old behavior, I know. BUT, that's my job as 'mom for now", to teach her the things her own mom should be teaching her. That the holidays aren't just about presents, but about caring for others, about giving as much as getting.
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I work for Salvation Army and we are in high gear already with Christmas- Angel Trees launch tomorrow and so do the Red Kettles.

I'm excited to take Miss M shopping for another child, one who won't get presents, if not for Angel Tree.

~~~~~
What do you do, friends, to encourage giving and gratefulness in your children?
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p.s. find out more about Angel Tree, check out SalArmyTulsa on FB.

Guilt

Things I feel guilty about, presented without comment:

1. Submitting the kids for DHS Christmas gift program.

2. Signing up miss M for Free and Reduced lunch program.

3. Taking advantage of the daycare being open till 6, by running errands or catching a power nap in the parking lot.

4. Feeling a sliver of empathy for Baby A's abuser. God, when that kid screams he absolutely rattles my brains.

5. Neglecting quality time with my husband for quality time with my pillow.

Yeah.

Hi, Yes & Yes readers!

Welcome- lots has changed since I wrote the interview for Yes & Yes.

Our first foster placement (boys, 6&8, referred to here as Big Bro & Little Bro) went home in June & we got a 2nd placement a few weeks later!- a little girl, 5, & her baby brother, 18 months.

The little girl is Miss M & the baby, Baby A.

We're not allowed to post identifying information, hence the code names & back of the head pictures.

Fostering continues to be challenging, but such an adventure! I hope you'll check out some of my past posts and leave a comment! Thanks for stopping by!

Update on Baby A

Baby A shouldn't be here.

He was so drastically abused before he and Miss M entered DHS, that his survival and now, recovery is nothing short of miraculous.

He had/has brain damage from his abuse and as a consequence, is delayed in some areas of his development, particularly, his physical development.

He is 16 months, but doesn't walk yet.

The right side of his body was paralyzed; and is still delayed.

But! Since he resumed physical/occupational therapy a few weeks ago, he has progressed immensely!

He used to refuse to hold his own bottle, but now handles a sippy cup with ease!

Baby food? Pssh! He devours whole bananas & gobbles down gram crackers!

Weak right side? Still a little, but he can clap, and eat, and grab with both now.

Crawling? Yes, with a vengeance, but he's 16 months! He should be walking. But now, within the last week, he's started pulling up, on everything!

It's so startling, to walk by his room after nap time and see him standing in his crib, like, "hey lady, you gonna let me out?"

He is a joy and a delight and so smart. He is thriving and we couldn't be more thrilled.

Soon I imagine he'll be walking and we'll really be in for an adventure!

Birthdays & other celebrations

We've been operating on radio silence for the past few weeks here at the blog, not because nothing's going on but rather, the opposite.

I've been overwhelmed by how much we are still actively engaged in getting the kids settled in. Particularly, Miss M.

Just this last week, we:
Met with Baby A's physical therapist
Approved a visit with the kids' Papa
Went school uniform shopping (Kindergarten for Miss M!!)
Went school supply shopping
Bought birthday presents
Ordered cake & sandwiches
Registered Miss M for school
Met her teacher
And scheduled an appointment for M's physiologist to come to the house.

Oh yeah, and spent Thursday morning at the Urgent Care, because both the kiddos have upper respiratory infections.

Which they did not get from me, although I've been sick too. First with strep then with ragweed allergies. And since I was not EVEN aware that baby's cant get strep, we spent 2.5 miserable hours at Urgent Care. (now taking pediatrician referrals, thanksverymuch).

So yeah. Been busy!

Then we had M & I's joint birthday party on Saturday at our neighborhood pool (rescheduled from late July, when I was in the throes of strep). And although we got to swim & had cake & presents & were surrounded by friends, family, etc., I had to laugh when a drought-ending thunderstorm rolled in & broke up the party (but only 30 minutes early)!

Crazy.
Wild.
Thrilling.
Exhausting.
Hilarious.

That's our world with Baby A & Miss M.

~~~~~~~~

We couldn't do it without help & support from our friends & family.

Thank you for all the hand me downs of clothes, of toys, of jumper roos, of pink shoes for a little girl you've never met.

Thank you for the words of wisdom, for the hugs of encouragement, for engaging with the worlds bossiest little girl, for smooching on that baby, & for understanding when I call in sick.

Honestly, these kids have made question my own sanity & reasons for EVER wanting kids of my own...BUT either way, I'm so amazed by this community of church friends, neighbors, in-laws, old college roommates, grad school drinking buddies, longtime friends & virtual strangers that are supporting us in this fosterhood journey.

You are awesome.
(Please don't stop!)

The Baby

This baby was supposed to be "really easy, really good". And he is, the majority of the time.

Except for when he's teething. Then he's a jerk who cries for no reason. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but this week....it made me cry too.. Why? Because I have strep throat. Of course I do!

I actually postponed my 30th Birthday party this Saturday (we won't talk about the day itself), because of said illness. And have spent the past 4 days bemoaning my fate...and glaring at the baby for usurping my position as most pitiful person in the house. Dang baby.

Otherwise, yes, he's great- sweet, goofy, sleeps a lot, eats well, loves to swim and generally charms everyone.
We like him. We're keeping him. And his sister.

Yup. Permanent placement, ho!

Giggles

Uh-oh.

Lady M is growing on me.

I love the silly faces she makes.

I am charmed by her unbidden "thank-you's" for snacks & toys.

I adore her long glossy black hair.

I am amused by her bossiness.

I am impressed with her powers of observation & questions.

And I don't even mind her "sleepy sillies" and incessant giggling during story time, because it's just too cute.

Better enjoy her while I can.

Childcare

I have never had the distinct pleasure that is locating childcare until yesterday.

Lady M & Baby A's daycare faculty was located in Collinsville and after 2 days of driving 25 miles each way for drop-off & pick-up, I had to admit that it'd be a whole whole lot easier to find daycare slightly closer to home.

Unfortunately, because they weren't supposed to stay with us past the weekend, I don't have a DHS childcare co-pay card and no one would take them without one. Called close to 10 different daycares before I found one that a) took both infants & 4 year olds b) had openings for both c) would allow me to "backswipe" the card once Ingot it.

And although I really really hated to take the kids somewhere new, I just couldn't swing the drive (which caused me to be massively late to work on Monday- thank goodness for a understanding boss- hi L!).

But to be honest, as I dropped off the kids this morning, I was a little leery of the joint. There are kids swarming everywhere, the toys are well-worn, sign-in sheets are handwritten. Nothing wrong with any of that, but it's much different from the place they were at in Collinsville (teachers in scrubs, daily feeding/diapering chart for Baby, well lit and airy).

Hmm. We'll see.

I hope I don't have to get on the phones again; finding childcare is a nightmare.

Adorable is...

Mr. Greg, chilling on the floor after work, teaching both the Boys how to play chess.

Side-eye

Friday, May 10

Praise the lord! Greg has returned from far away lands! And we went to the airport to pick him up.

I got the boys fed, "homeworked" and bathed and into clean comfy clothes (in case they fell asleep on the way home - HA!) & we headed to the airport to meet Greg's 8:30 flight.

The boys had never been to the airport, so they were excited to check the whole thing out.

As they whirled through the carousel door and loudly observed and questioned every new thing, I felt the eyes of the baggage claim crowd tracking our progress through the terminal. The judgment was palpable: those kids sure are loud...is that their MOM?!?....surely not...who are they meeting?....wait, he's not black....

So far, the racial oddness of our placement has gone largely unremarked, in public spaces. With the exception of a few "are they twins?" inquiries, laden with curiosity, who are inevitably disappointed when I cheerfully chirp, "Nope!" and herd the boys onward.

But not comments or inquiries, doesn't mean people aren't looking, wondering perhaps judging. I fully expected foster care to be a crap shoot in many aspects, including racially. However, I expected to field more outright questions and fewer sidelong glances.
Our reasons for fostering are focused on conveying value, love and respect to whatever kids need it, regardless of age, race, or gender.

However, trying to DO that in a piblic space, when I'm also worried about managing behaviors in public spaces is extremely challenging. Ultimately, it's no ones business, but in an extremely conservative state like OK, conservation's about child abuse, fostering and even racial equality are rare. I hope that I am ready to have them, when the opportunity presents itself.

Four weeks ago

Four weeks ago today my husband & I drove north, beyond our neighborhood, our side of the tracks and our comfort zone at large.

Four weeks ago today we were plunged into Fosterhood as soon as we walked through the doors of the children's shelter, & announced ourselves as foster parents.

Four weeks ago today, we became parents at the stoke of a pen.

Four weeks ago today, we ate the first of many pizzas from "Zizis."

Four weeks ago today, we put together the first of many Lego sets.

Four weeks ago today, G made an emergency run to Walgreens for Batman toothbrushes.

Four weeks ago today, I lay awake listening to sticky coughs & wondered how I would ever sleep through the night again (hint: exhaustion).

Four weeks ago today, we prayed that we could somehow let these sweet boys know that they are valuable, wanted and loved.

Tonight, I pray that same prayer, with added pleas for an extra serving of wisdom & an extra bucket of patience.

Wisdom from Mr. Greg

Mind tricks for bedtime (via FB):
"If you ask them who's going in the shower, they point at each other. Ask who wants to be Shower Champion and they fight each other to get to the bathroom."

(Totally worked!)

Mowing the grass

Little Bro, who I'm afraid is becoming my favorite-largely for his willingness to help, in contrast to his elder brother's resistance to do anything that is not his idea- helped me mow the grass on Saturday.

It's another maintenance item that has fallen off considerably since the boys arrived in our lives. Combined with the twin impediments of rain & sinus infections (for BOTH G. & I now), the result was a veritable jungle of lawn.

Little Bro watched with fascination as I filled the gas tank, checked the oil, & tried to start it.

After calling Greg to start the damn thing (it was clogged from previous mowing adventures), we took off.

He pushed with all his might and I hung off the side of the handle trying to ensure some semblance of a straight line.

Up and down the rows, up and down. We waved at passing cars, smiled at neighbors walking the dogs on the early afternoon warmth and grunted as we swung into the corners.

He bent his head in concentration, pushing with all his might, trusting me to guide the mower.

A simple chore, but based on the smile that split his face as I high-fived him,
a memorable accomplishment.

Shoe Shopping

Today after school, I made a brave foray into the wild world of shoe shopping, for the boys.

We hit up JCPenny for some summer flip-flops & some new sneakers. Lord bless the sales guy who put up with us trying on half the shoes on the shelves!

Eventually we picked out a pair of slip-on Vans for Little Bro (yay no laces!) & some cool lace up Vans with blue accents for Big Bro.

Since we were buying them on a limited DHS voucher (provided specifically for purchasing clothes & shoes), I needed to max it out, so we went upstairs to the boys department.

The boys of course bee-lined for the display of "Avengers" shirts (with toy!).
I plopped them on the floor, with my iPhone to watch PBS Kids videos, while I looked around some more.

As I browsed, the sales gal asked her usual, "Do you need any help?" then, hesitantly, "Are you their worker?", glancing at the boys, happily engrossed in their movie.

"Their foster mom", I replied, shyly.

Then, unexpectedly, "I-- I'm actually the one who called Protective Services on their [situation]."

Dumbstruck, I could only nod, as she spilled the details of the worst day of my boys' life.

Although she had called DHS because she was concerned about the welfare of two small boys, it sent them spiraling into upheaval & trauma, hurtling straight into our lives, into our arms.

It was a surreal moment, & all I could do was manage to thank her & to assure her that they were doing well.

In a daze, I let the boys get the silly the Avengers' shirt/toy combo and herded
them both downstairs to pay for the lot of it; grateful for the chance to get them
what they need, and some of what can make them happy again.

Little Bro + Lola out for walkies

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).

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.

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.

Aaaaaand: This morning. Yup, two boys live here.