What's in a Name?

My name is Tammy, but when I became a foster parent, I took on a new name along with my new role as temporary mommy to other people's kids.

I knew that I was going to need to call myself something when these babies came to me, but I was torn on what it should be.  I have to admit, I don't even remember what I called myself when the Munchkin was with me.  Those five days were a whirlwind of complete and total chaos.  The name issue didn't really come up until the Booger Bear and Angel moved in. 

Booger came first, and for the first few weeks when it was just the two of us, I just called myself "Mama Tammy."  He was only seven months old, so it wasn't like he was talking much, but when Angel moved in, it was clear that the "Mama" and "Mama Tammy" thing was going to be confusing for everyone.  That's when my mom suggested "Mimi."  "Mimi" is a play on "Tammy," and it sounds like a fun name for an aunt or a young, fun grandma-type name too (although I'm still not ready to admit that I am old enough to be a very young grandma).  So I decided to give "Mimi" a try.

As the months passed, I just started thinking of myself as "Mimi," and the name grew on me (especially coming from the Booger's mouth :-).  When I think about what to have these little ones call me in terms of foster care, I think that "Mimi" works best for all of us for lots of reasons:

• In many of these cases, "Mama" or "Mommy" isn't a positive person in these babies' lives.  I don't know what my babies remember about their mommies, but I don't want them to be afraid of me simply because I call myself by a name that has bad memories associated with it.  When it came to the Booger, "Mimi" was the person he ran to when he was hurt...  The one he called for in the middle of the night...  The one who played with him, fed him, bathed him, nursed him when he was sick, taught him, and loved him the way a mother should.  To him, "Mama" was just the name of the person who lived with us for a while.

• I don't want to confuse my babies any more than they are already going to be.  Chances are, all of my kids are going to have weekly visits with their parents.  Because I foster infants and toddlers, I feel like calling myself "Mama" would only lead to more confusion every time they have a visit and their birth mom calls herself the same thing.  If they are with me for any length of time, in the babies' eyes, I would be the person they consider their "Mama," and it would only cause more hurt and confusion when they leave me.

• I don't want to hurt my babies' mothers.  I know that sounds crazy to a lot of people...  Not wanting to hurt the feelings of one of the people responsible for hurting her children...  But I still think that as badly as some of these women have messed up, most of them still love their kids.  I know it would hurt me to hear my child call another woman "Mama," so I think that calling myself "Mimi" shows their mothers that I'm not trying to steal their babies or to take their places, and I hope that it helps develop better relationships with my babies' parents.

• And then there's what I kind of think of as my self-preservation motive.  It might be "just a name," but a part of me thinks that if I call myself "Mama" or "Mommy," I'll have a harder time reminding myself that these babies aren't mine to keep.  I know the hurt of losing them will never lessen, regardless of what I call myself, but there's just something about having a child call me "Mama" that feels more permanent to me.

I love being "Mimi."  To me, "Mimi" is that person who steps in and is there when these little ones need someone the most.  "Mimi" is the person who teaches them what love, security, patience, and trust is all about.  My hope is that I can be "Mimi" to as many babies as possible...  That I can be there for them when their own mommies can't be...  But there's still that part of me that longs to hear a little one call for their "Mommy," and to know that I'm the one who is always going to be there when they do.  What's in a name???  I guess for me, in some ways a name is just a name.  But in others, a name can mean everything.

"The Gift of Life"

The Gift of Life

I didn't give you the gift of life,

But in my heart I know

The love I feel is deep and real,

As if it has been so.

For us to have each other

is like a dream come true!

No, I didn't give you

The Gift of Life,

Life gave me the gift of you.

-Author Unknown

Gimp-Girl-i-Versary!!!

Yes, my friends...  Today is the one year anniversary of the day that I oh-so-gracefully pulled all of the tendons/ligaments in my ankle and broke my fibula in half by accidentally ice skating on invisible ice!  Fun times, let me tell you!!!

Wheelchair-bound for over a month, I had several embarrassing incidents which naturally resulted in me feeling the need to write about them on the World Wide Web for the entire world to see.  Most embarrassing would have to have been the Naked Gimp SOS Call that I had to send out after having lost access to my clothing after a shower.  Again.  Fun times!!!  :-)

By the end of February, I was given the green light to hobble around a little in my fracture boot.  My Mom, who had been living with the Booger Bear and me while I was wheelchair bound, decided it was time for her to move back home and sleep in her own bed for a change.  Unfortunately, the Magical House-Cleaning Genie who had moved in around the same time that my Mom did decided to move out at the same time as well!  I just didn't understand.  Where did that genie go?!?

By the end of April, I was still having trouble with my "lenkle" (as I like to call my injured leg/ankle).  The ortho decided that I needed to try physical therapy, so he sent me to a rather large German woman name "Olga" who proceeded to torture me for several weeks in a row.  More fun times!

After five months of Gimpihood, I found myself noticing things that I would ordinarily not give a second glance.  I developed an eye for quality mobility assistance devices (meaning, I was eyeing little old ladies fancy walkers and was actually jealous).  I made note of my findings and shared them back in May as I posted my "Observations of the Gimpy One" post.

By June, I had gained most of the mobility back in my ankle, and was able to walk without a limp (for the most part) for the first time in six months.  The pain was pretty much gone unless I did a lot of walking or stairs.  This was about the time that I realized that I had also gained the super-magical power of weather prediction!  I kid you not.  One year later and I will tell you right now that based on the radiating pain in my leg today, my metropolitan area will be experiencing a drastic weather change in the next day or two.  My "lenkle" does not lie.  It hasn't failed me yet!

Yes, the anniversary of that fateful day was fresh on my mind this morning as I went outside to leave for work and came upon the Ominous Metal Grate of Doom.  I stepped boldly, fearlessly, defiantly, and with purpose directly onto the object of my despair over the past year.  "I'll show that metal grate!  Yes-sir-ee!"  (Shoot!  Who am trying to kid?  I got down on my hands and knees and crawled over it like a baby after standing there for a full ten minutes in complete and total hyperventilating panic attack mode.  It sounded good anyway. :-) 

Sure, I might have been ten minutes late for work, but no one seemed to mind my tardiness as they were expecting me to call in sick today anyway.  I was tempted.  Believe me, I was tempted!  But I decided to brave up and face my fear of falling on the Ominous Metal Grate of Doom head-on (in other words, I am saving my "sick days" for days when the temperature falls below freezing and I have no intention of stepping foot outside of my house. :-)

I hope you enjoy reading (or re-reading) posts from the Great Gimpy One as much as I've enjoyed writing them over the past year.  I most likely will be reading them again this weekend myself, as I've just heard that my "lenkle" prediction was correct and a cold front is on its way.  :-)

A Change of Heart...

I can't believe it's 2011, and I am entering my 3rd year as a licensed foster parent.  Looking back, it's exciting to see how much I've changed since I first began this journey.  Don't get me wrong...  It's been six weeks since the girls went home to live with their daddy, and I am missing Little Miss like crazy and praying that they are okay.  And I am most definitely experiencing the full effects of "Foster Pregnancy" yet again as I wait for a new placement.  I doubt that will ever go away.  Waiting is a booger!  But the longer I do this, the more I can feel my heart and mindset evolve into something I actually really like.

You see, like so many people, I went into foster care with the hope of adopting.  With my first two placements, I had such high hopes of being able to make them a permanent part of my family.  I was even told that might be possible with the Booger, so when that didn't happen, I was devastated.  Completely.  Totally.  Devastated.  I took a few months "off" and tried to regroup, collect my thoughts, get a handle on my emotions, and decide just what was most important to me.  I prayed a lot.  And the answers that I received sort of took me by surprise. 

My "answered prayers" came in many forms.  I think the first was when I finally made the firm decision to switch agencies.  I had been postponing it because it meant having to start all over again with the training classes and trusting the "unknown," but I was having so many problems with my first agency that I decided it was going to be worth it.  And it absolutely was!  From the very first contact that I had with my new little (and I do mean "little" as there are only two employees in this particular office :-) agency, I could tell that they genuinely cared...  Not just about the children, but also about the foster parents.  As I went through all of the classes again, I began to realize that my mindset was different this time around.  I wasn't thinking about adoption much at all, but only about fostering the little ones who needed me.  Yes!  I absolutely would love the opportunity to adopt one or more of my little ones, but that thought has taken a backseat to me simply wanting to be there for as many kids as possible.

Around the time that I was changing agencies and doing all of my training, I received another big answer to my "What am I meant to do, God?" prayers.  It was the Booger Bear's 2nd birthday, and I emailed his daddy to let him know that I had put together a baby book for him.  I told him that I was glad that the Booger was going to celebrate his birthday with his family this year because they weren't able to be together last year.  I hadn't had any contact with them in months, so I wasn't really sure how he was going to react.  To my pleasant surprise, over the next few weeks the Booger's dad, new mommy, and I began to develop an actual friendship.

In the months since, the Booger's parents have blessed me so much by allowing me and my family back into his life.  Enough time has passed so he doesn't remember the time that he lived with me, but he knows that I love him and that I'm someone special.  I love that he will just out of the blue say, "I love you, Tammy!"  Being able to watch him grow up...  To see how much his parents love him...  To see how hard they are working to make a great life for him and his soon-to-be new baby sister...  I feel like this is God's way of saying, "You see, Tammy...  You helped to make this possible."  It's being able to see first-hand that foster care does work, and I really needed to see that.  I honestly think that even if I never know how any of my other babies are doing, it will be okay.  Because I've seen with this little, young family that anything is possible.  That love really does go a long, long way...  and that when these parents genuinely do love their children, they will do whatever it takes to make it work.

I've felt so many changes in me over the past several months, and that became very obvious when Little Miss came to me.  I fell completely in love with that little girl from the moment she came through my door.  I felt the same love for her as I did with my other babies, but that immediate thought of, "This could be my baby!" wasn't there anymore.  My heart went from "This could be my child!" to "I love this little girl, and I want to help her, comfort her, love her, and teach her for as long as they'll let me."  Another one of God's answers to my prayers...  God sent me a little girl who needed me more than any of my other kids up to that point. 

In the six weeks she was with me, Little Miss went from being a silent, completely self-soothing, scared little 11-month-old to a happy, funny, flirty little thing who soaked up every bit of love and attention that she got from me and the people around us.  She was excited about learning new things.  She began to trust that I would actually comfort her when she was upset, and that she didn't need to do it herself.  When she left my home to go live with her daddy, she had learned how to trust and how to love.  And from what I know of her situation, her daddy loves her and wants her very much.  I can only hope that what she learned from me in those six weeks helped her to transition into her daddy's home and life a little easier.  Watching as that little girl opened up and completely blossomed was just another confirmation that what I am doing does make a difference.

Yes, I'll admit it.  I got the old, "Hello!?!?  McFly?!?" from God.  I don't think I need to ask Him any more what I'm supposed to do.  :-)  As much as it hurts sometimes, and as frustrating as things get, I know I am doing what I was meant to do.  If I'm ever given the opportunity, I know I would adopt one of my little ones in a heartbeat.  But that's not my focus anymore.  These babies and their parents need people like me who are willing and able to be there for them when they need someone the most.  Foster care works.  I've seen it firsthand.  And if I can help another family come together, or teach another frightened little baby how to trust, it's all worth it.

Coolest Thing EVER

OMG!  I MUST HAVE THIS!!!

My co-worker just told me about these, and I do believe this has to be the coolest thing ever!!!  Possibly even cooler than PajamaJeans...  As a continuous mommy of toddlers, I have got to get my hands on some of these!!!  A practically spill-proof bowl!!!

"It spins and spins and spins, and stuff stays in!"  (It also appears to have super magical powers as the snack changes to a different food with every turn!  Goldfish crackers to Cheerios to marshmallows...  Amazing!)

When I first saw this ad, my heart leaped!  I heard harps playing, and a chorus of little birdies singing...  The computer screen glowed with a brilliant golden light, and all I could think was, "It's a miracle!"

I realize that some of you might think that I am exaggerating, but for those of you who have spent the past two years on your hands and knees acting as a human vacuum cleaner picking up fallen goldfish, yogurt melts, raisins, etc., I know you understand how exciting this wonder bowl is.  As a matter of fact, the Booger Bear's mama told me that he saw the ad for it on TV and said that it was "a cool cup" and that he wanted it too.  So see?  Even a two year old can see the magnificence that is the Gyro Bowl!

(And now I have begun to realize that I might have slight weakness for "As Seen on TV" products, as I just ate dinner made from hamburger defrosted on my Miracle Thaw and am about to give myself a pedicure using my PedEgg.  I also saw my Sandwich Maker and George Foreman grill in the pantry and wondered what I should make next.  And OMG!!!  Did you know there's an entire official website for "As Seen on TV" products?!?  And the In Styler is only $14.99!!!  Step away from the computer, Tammy.  Step away from the computer.  And whatever you do, DO NOT turn on the TV!)