Growing Up "Country"

I grew up in a small town out in the sticks.  The kind of place where it took twenty minutes to get to a road that wasn't made of dirt and gravel...  Where everyone knew everyone and the majority of the town was comprised of three main families.  Chances are, you or your best friends were related to at least one of them.  Country living had its perks, and I wouldn't change a thing about growing up in a small town, but there were times when the "city girl" of my early childhood proved that she was still alive and kickin' in me.

It happened one afternoon when I was in college.  My parents had left that morning to go out of town for the week, and I had come to spend the weekend at the house so my 17-year-old sister wouldn't be alone.  I remember it clearly...  I was in the living room when Christy came running out of the bathroom.

"Oh my gosh!  You have GOT to go look in the toilet!!!"

My first reaction was to look at her as if she had lost her mind.  "Aren't you a little old for that, Christy?"  I mean, toddlers are all about having people look at what they've done in the potty, but Christy was 17-years-old!  I told her I'd take her word for it.

"No!  I'm serious!  You have got to go look in the toilet."

Source

I rolled my eyes and grudgingly made my way into the restroom.  The lid was down, and I just knew she was playing a horrible joke on me at this point.  I looked at her and ever-so-slowly lifted the lid when I saw exactly why she came running out of the bathroom in a frenzy.  Spread out along the inside of the toilet bowl was a Gigantic Toad of Massive Proportions!  (If I knew the HTML to make that statement blink in neon colors, I would do it in order to stress the seriousness of the situation.)  I swear, the thing was huge!  And I just knew he was coming after us.

"City Girl" let out a shriek that would call dogs, slammed the lid back down, and if I remember correctly, put something on top of it in order to prevent the massive beast from opening the lid and getting loose in the house.  Then Christy asked me what I was going to do about it.

"What I'm going to do about it?!?  Why me?!?  You found it!!!"

"You're the oldest."  (Figures she would have chosen this exact moment to solidify my place of authority over her. ;-)

My first thought was to call my grandparents.  They lived across the street and had chickens and horses and stuff, so they were more "country" than we were.  But they weren't there!!!  I will admit that I was highly tempted to call my parents and have them come home.  They hadn't been gone that long.  It wouldn't shorten their trip too much, right?  But I decided to be a grown-up and find a solution to our predicament on my own.

I called 9-1-1.

Yep.  That's right!  I called 9-1-1 because there was a massive amphibian in my commode.

Okay, so I didn't actually dial "9-1-1."  I called the police station dispatch office.  My best friend was the dispatcher there (which also meant he was the 9-1-1 dispatcher), and I knew he could handle any emergency that was thrown his way.  Hence, my call to 9-1-1...

"You have to help us, Tom!!!"

Tom put on his "calm, professional 9-1-1 dispatcher voice" and tried to talk me down from my panic attack.  Although, to this day I can still hear the laughter in his voice.  He was kind and didn't laugh outright though, so for that, I am thankful.  And I am even more thankful for what he did next.  He called his younger brother and had him drive the 20 minutes to our house in order to save us from the Gigantic Toad of Massive Proportions.

Source

When Eric pulled up the drive, Christy and I went running out to meet him.  I'm certain we were falling all over ourselves with cries of gratitude.  Our hero had come to save us!!!  Eric, bless his heart, did his best to stifle his chuckling as well and set out to remove the monster from our home.

We followed him into the bathroom.  We didn't necessarily want to have contact with the beast, but we wanted to make sure that no harm would come to him as well.  (We're compassionate like that ;-).  We prepared ourselves, and Eric opened the lid.

You could have heard crickets chirping it was so silent in that bathroom.

Sitting on top of the toilet seat, having made his way from inside the toilet bowl, was a teeny tiny little frog about the size of a quarter staring up at us with his super cute itty bitty little eyes.

Huh...  How 'bout that?

"He looked so much bigger before...  He's kind of cute!"  Christy and I proceeded to talk to the adorable little froggy.  "Hi, little froggy!  How cute are you, little froggy?!?"  Poor Eric just stood there shaking his head in disbelief.  "Do you still want me to take him outside," he asked us.  Um, yeah!  Little Froggy might be cute and all, but I still don't want him in my toilet!

So Eric picked up Little Froggy, carried him out the front door, and off of the patio where he leaned down to release him.  Christy and I quickly suggested he maybe take him a wee bit farther away from the house.  Little Froggy was clearly a smart one.  If he was able to find his way inside once, we wanted to make it a little bit more difficult for him to find his way in again.  Eric humored us and took our new amphibious friend into the pasture.  He managed to maintain his composure and not laugh at us, but I can only imagine the conversation that he and Tom must have had after he had left!

I no longer live in the country, but I do still check my toilet before sitting down.  Some things you just don't get past.  And a Gigantic Toad of Massive Proportions in your potty is one of them.  :-)

I'll Own It!

It occurred to me yesterday as I was updating my personal FB status that I tend to admit to doing quite a few things that many people would balk at announcing on the WWW.  I have no shame apparently.  What fun is it if you can't laugh at yourself, right?  Heck!  A good percentage of this blog is dedicated to my "I'll Own It!" moments and admissions.

Like the time that I admitted to several of my guilty pleasures including boy bands, "Galaxy Quest," and that Justin Bieber/Rascal Flatts song...  Or when I announced to everyone that my feet smelled funky...  Or the day that I spent a good five minutes trying to find a way to unlock my car when the clicker wasn't working, only to realize later that I could have just used the key...  I've admitted to my mishaps in the kitchen and my less than stellar eating habits.  I've even admitted to being a Naked Gimp when I had broken my leg and couldn't get dressed after my first shower.  Like I said, I have no shame.

Sooo...  I figured, why not dedicate a post or two to all of my "I'll Own It!" moments?  If I'm going to admit to all of my shortcomings and funky quirks on my personal FB page, I might as well post them here for all to enjoy!

And so, without further adieu...

• Why, yes...  Yes, I did catch myself swayin' away and beboppin' to the awesome song in my head while sitting at my desk at work.  That "Thomas the Train" theme song ROCKS!  Those British kids can SANG!

• I'll own it.  I spent a good 15 minutes the other day getting a good chuckle out of tormenting Christy by sending her text messages mentioning all of the foods that I know make her gag a little.  Yes, I'm a 37-year-old grown woman, and I still get a sick satisfaction out of teasing my little sister.  :-)

• Yes.  I will admit that I pointed and laughed, danced a little jig, and sing-songed "Nanny-nanny boo-boooo!!!" to the cat when I decided to use this Winnie the Pooh area rug as a wall hanging so he wouldn't pee on it.  I sure showed him!!!

• Okay...  Yes...  I did something that I swore I'd never do, and I let my 17-month-old take over my Kindle Fire.  While I refuse to purchase a $200 device for a 1-year-old, I have to admit it's coming in quite handy as a learning tool.  Monkey is all about the touchscreen and doing his animal sounds app.  :-)

• Why, yes...  Yes, I did sit in the parking lot after work for a full 8 minutes trying to wrestle those stinking sunshades into submission to no avail.  I finally gave up, wadded them up, and stuffed them under the dash.  I don't have to work out today though what with 8 solid minutes of cardio in the 120 degree car and all...

• Yes, I'll own it.  I had a momentary brain fart and returned a phone call to my agency and was about to tell them that "Sure!  I'll take three kiddos on emergency respite for the next few days!  8 months, 1-year, and 2-years?  No problem!"  Fortunately they had already found a place for them before I called them back (my Respite 3's foster home!!!).  That is going to be one crazy, busy house for the next several days...  :-)

And that is what I am "owning" for the week!  Stay tuned to see what next week brings...

Casting Call for Foster Care Reality TV

I've always loved reality TV.  There's just something about watching other people with lives that make you go "HUH?!?" that makes me feel oh-so-much better about my own.  So imagine my dismay this morning when I did one of those internet name games and this popped up on the screen!

F'real?!?  "Dramatic?!?"  Me?!?  I am soooooo not "dramatic!!!"  (Hmmm...  Upon reviewing all of the exclamation marks in that statement, they might have a wee bit of a point there...)  Anyway...

So I began pondering the possibility of my own reality show, and it occurred to me that since entering the world of Foster/Adopt Land, I might be onto something!  Maybe something like "Teen Mom" where the series follows four different foster families along with the children's birth families...  Now that would make for some interesting television!  Trust me.  You haven't experienced the full impact of "Jerry Springer" until you've lived in the world of foster care for a few years.  I've experienced and heard of some doozies over the past four years...  with stories involving foster families as well as birth families!  Just imagine the possibilities!!!

I think I just might put out a casting call for my new series.  (I haven't thought of a name for it yet, so feel free to post your title ideas. :-)  Think your family might be a good candidate for the hypothetical show?  Share away!  We might have hit the jackpot here!  :-)

Respite for Three, Please?

Source

I know, I know...  I once again postponed the "Foster Friday" Tips post on keeping organized.  I actually had a good excuse this month though!  I was the proud "respite mom" of three kiddos this past weekend!

• Six-year-old "Shadow," an adorable little girl who followed me around all weekend long and was an absolute joy...  
• Her 6-year-old foster brother "Rocket," super ADHD, but super cute and who greeted me every morning with a "Good Morning!" and a rundown on his night's sleep.  :-)  
• And "Shadow's" 11-year-old brother "Mr. Serious," who asked me all sorts of questions about foster care and my relationships with my past kiddos because he knew that I still had lots of contact with them, and who helped keep the little ones entertained and on task...

The weekend began Friday night with three separate knocks on my front door.  Apparently each child wanted to knock, so I'm glad I didn't open it too soon.  After introductions and a quick tour of the house, the kids made themselves at home.  These kids were so good!  Even Rocket, who was insanely hyperactive, was easily corrected when he got too crazy.  I think it helped that I had the weekend jam-packed full of activities so they were way too busy to get into any real trouble. :-)

So how does a single foster mama keep three kids she's never met before entertained for two days?

Baking and decorating rainbow cupcakes!  

Two batches of cake batter mixed with ten separate colors of food coloring along with three tubs of frosting mixed with fifteen separate colors of food coloring and enough sprinkles to rot your teeth...  It really doesn't get much better than that!  I have to admit I wasn't thinking very clearly when I decided to take on this task at my dining room table over the brand new carpet.  My once cream-colored carpet is now a plethora of lovely colors after having brightly-colored batters and frostings spilled on it.  I assured the kids it was okay (mostly because Heaven taught me how to get it out :-), and Mr. Serious cracked me up when he looked up and said, "Well, at least you have something to remember us by!"  ;-)

After cleaning up the cupcake mess, we lathered up in sunblock and hit the swimming pool.  We got lucky and had the whole place to ourselves for an hour and a half before we headed inside.  I think the kids would have stayed out there all day, but my pasty white self tends to burn full-clothed, so we had to go in when the sun was the brightest.  I managed to bribe them with going back out after dinner and the promise of super-fun things to come in the house.

Which led to...  Setting up a tent in the living room and packing it full of balloons.  :-)  By this point, I was rated right up there with Walt Disney, the people who design roller coasters, and whoever came up with the best way to make chocolate candy bars.  The kids were already asking me if they could come back and were plotting ways to convince their foster parents to go on vacation. 

Over the remainder of the weekend, we went swimming for two additional hour and a half long sessions.  Heaven, Kelly, Kama, Booger, and Banana came over for a Taco Party and swimming on Sunday where Banana very quickly developed a baby crush on Mr. Serious.  She clapped and cheered for him every time he did a trick in the pool.  She batted her little 17-month-old eyelashes and called out his name.  He was eating it up! :-)  I spent the majority of the weekend with Shadow as we worked on "decorating" my house, reading books, playing tea party, and doing the dishes (which she surprisingly loved!).  The boys were busy on their PSPs and having Angry Bird tournaments on my Kindle when we weren't busy doing other things.  Just a busy, fun weekend...

Kid quotes:

Shadow (to a lady in the pool who was with her daughter and her boyfriend) - "Does he pay your bills?  NO?!?  Well he should!  He's wasting your money!!!" 

Shadow again (to the same lady in the pool) - "What would happen if someone went to the bathroom in the pool?"  After we explained how that wouldn't be a good thing, Shadow replied, "Ohhhhh..."  I asked her if she needed to go to the restroom and she hesistantly replied, "Well, yeah..."  Lady pipes in "Well I'm really glad you asked that question then!"  (And so ended our swimming session for the evening.. . ;-)

Mr. Serious - Mr. Serious was awesome at problem-solving, and could usually handle most of his and Rocket's predicaments that they might have come across.  When he couldn't, he would come to me.  I think I heard "Miss Tammy, I think we have a problem..." a dozen times over the weekend.  :-)

But the one thing that completely broke my heart occurred when Rocket asked me "So what exactly are the rules in your house?"  I think he thought I didn't have any because I really hadn't had to get onto them for anything.  I told him that my main rule is to "Be Respectful of Others" and that included things like no yelling in the house (because I have neighbors upstairs), no hitting or kicking, etc.  He replied, "Why no hitting?"  I told him that hitting hurts people, and that I never wanted anyone to be hurt.  Rocket just got a really sad look on his face and replied in a quiet little voice, "People hit at my real house."  :'(  I knelt down in front of him and told him that that made me sad and that I was really sorry to hear that.  Then I assured him that no one hits at my house.  Ever.  He looked up, smiled, and said, "You're a really nice lady."

I'm so used to only fostering infants and toddlers that it was a whole new experience having children who could verbalize about their experiences before coming into care.  It took me by surprise a little because for the most part, you never would have known these kids came from hard places.  The only real clues were Rocket's comment and the way that Shadow absolutely craved my attention.  The weekend did help solidify my decision about one thing though.  I had been debating on whether or not to open my age range up to 5 or 6 years old, and after the weekend I'm more convinced than ever that I can do it.

I'm still waiting to hear something on the girls before I take another long-term placement.  I don't want to take one and then have them call me saying "We chose you!  We're moving the girls next week!"  The last update I received was last week and was a very vague "You're one of the families being considered, but we don't have a timeframe right now."  So in the meantime, I am open to weekend respite while I'm waiting to hear something definite.  I like being "Nice Lady," and I love that I can give these kids a safe, fun place to stay while their foster families need the help.  :-)

"Foster Friday" Guest Post: Lessons I Learned as a Foster Parent

Lessons I Learned as a Foster Parent

There were many lessons learned over the course of my time as a foster parent.  People ask me all the time what they should know about fostering and I always give them the same brief list of things I learned the hard way.

Lesson #1:  Social Workers are not your friends.

This is a very important lesson to learn early on in your fostering career.  It will save you a lot of time and trouble later on.  No matter how nice your social work, licensing worker or placement worker seems to be, don't make the mistake of thinking you can have a deep friendship with them.  Don't ever tell a social worker something personal about your life that you don't want everyone else in the office to know.  And most importantly, don't ever tell a social worker something that can come back to bite you in the ass later.  There is a very clearly defined line between friends and social worker, don't cross it.

Lesson #2: If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.