Mimi's Infant Dress Code

As I've been purging and organizing my stash of tiny human clothing while I'm on my self-imposed one-year foster care break, I've decided to be very particular about the types of outfits I will keep for future babies.  I figure I've been dressing infants for over five years now, and I can safely say what I will and will not be putting on my child.  As I started going through my foster care closet (aka. My "Monica" Hidden Closet of Doom), I realized that I have established rather clear-cut "rules" on infant clothing.  Let me introduce you to:

Mimi's Infant Dress Code

 

Rule #1 - No one piece outfits or pajamas with legs that pull over the head!  I learned this lesson the hard way at about 2:45am one morning when Monkey had a diaper blowout of massive proportions in his brand new adorable red flannel jammies.  I realized as I was cutting his clothing off of him, ER-style, in the middle of the night that all future outfits must have an easy means of escape that don't involve pulling poop-covered material over my child's head.  Yes, the outfit may be the cutest thing you ever saw, but trust me when I say it won't be quite so cute in a blowout situation.

Rule #2 - Snaps must not be "hidden."  It is hard enough snapping pajamas in the dark after a diaper change.  Those "fancy" jammies where you have to turn the seams inside out so the snaps don't show are just not right!  Whoever came up with that design clearly didn't have children or they never would have released those garments into the market.

Rule #3 - Tight-fitting thermal jammies must be at least two sizes larger than what the baby typically wears.  I played a mean trick (unintentionally, I promise) on Miss Kaitlyn at daycare one day. I sent a cute little outfit for Bug's "I Drooled Down to My Toes in my First Outfit of the Day" ensemble. I had never put him in it myself though because I took one look at it and thought, "That's gonna be a "B" to get him into!" So I sent it to let Miss Kaitlyn have go at it. She's young and in shape! Surely she was capable of wrestling the squirming octopus into submission! The look she gave me when I walked in the door to pick up my little Bugmeister that afternoon made me rethink my position on the matter in the future.   I believe she said something along the lines of "Don't you ever do that again!"  ...and I am fairly certain that chocolate made its way to daycare the next week as I grovelled for forgiveness.

Rule #4 - I am all about the zipper!  My mom has always said that she hates zippers because she worries about all of the awkward positions you have to put the baby into to get them in the outfit.  I maintain that any child who can suck on their own toes with ease will have absolutely no problem bending in half to get their leg into that one non-zippered side of the outfit.  Zippers just make life easier.  Bring on the zippers!!!

Rule #5 - Hair accessories need to be proportionate with the child's head.  I adore hair bows on baby girls!  I can't wait to get a little pink up in this house so I can accessorize to my heart's content.  But when it comes to your little one's hair accessories...  Puh-leeze!!!  Try to show a little restraint!  When your little girl's hair bow is bigger than her entire head, perhaps it's time for your loved ones to stage an intervention.  (This is a touched up photo of Monkey.  I didn't want to offend anyone by posting an actual photo of their baby with a ridiculously large bow on its head, but I think you get the idea.)

Rule #6 - This one is more a personal "rule" than one that I would impose on others, but I simply can not let my kids run around without pants.  I don't know why.  It's not like a baby in nothing but a diaper and a t-shirt is hurting anything.  Heck!  It might even be more convenient to forgo the pants altogether, but for some reason I just can't do it!  My babies wear bottoms.  Period.  The ironic thing about this rule is that I tend to sleep in a t-shirt and undies myself.  (TMI, I know.  You're welcome for that! ;-)  I can't tell you the number of times that Monkey has exclaimed when he calls me into his room in the middle of the night, "Mommy!  You no having any pants!"  So the fact that my children are always bottom-covered due to my crazy hang-up really is rather funny.

I'm sure I could list another dozen rules if I really thought about it, but these seemed to be the ones that immediately came to mind.  What about you?  Do you have an unspoken dress code for your little ones? 

Birth Order as Evidenced by Breakfast

I realized yesterday morning as I sat Bug in his highchair at daycare to give him his breakfast that you can tell the birth order of the children by what their parents have given them for their morning meal.  I'm sure this can be determined by other factors as well, but it was blatantly evident this particular morning by food alone.  :-)

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The little girl in the highchair next to Bug was clearly the firstborn, only child.  She was picking at what appeared to be a piece of homemade, whole grain, blueberry bread with a lovely container filled with fresh, certainly organic mixed berries and banana slices and sipping on a cup of milk that I'm sure was probably squeezed fresh from cow or goat or whatever mammal just that morning.  It reminded me of Booger Bear and what I used to feed him...  My first child...  Always fresh fruit along with a cup of whole milk and a healthy grain of some sort.

The child on the other side of Bug was most likely a second child.  He seemed happier than the little girl gagging down that grainy bread and thick milk.  He was munching on a handful of Cheerios, a banana, and yogurt and drinking what appeared to be diluted white grape juice.  This made me think of Monkey...  My second little guy...  I still wanted to do a well-balanced meal that included dairy, grains, and fruit, but I also wanted to go for convenience as well.  I had a "no colorful juice" rule that pretty much eliminated all juices other than white grape or apple juice because I didn't want to deal with stains, but gave Monkey the chance to enjoy a sweet fruity drink every once in a while. 

Then came my Bug.  I plopped him in the highchair, handed him a cup of bright red juice, and gave him his "breakfast" that consisted of a PopTart and a squeeze pouch of applesauce.  Yeah...  My little guy is clearly #7 in our family's "birth" order.  In my defense though, it was a strawberry PopTart!  And I felt a wee bit guilty for not giving him a grain of some sort, so I did reach over and snag a small handful of Cheerios from "Second Child's" tray.  I thought that action would prove to be beneficial in a number of areas - my kid gets a grain, Second Child won't overeat, and both boys will learn the joys of sharing.  Win/Win!

I have to admit, I am a little concerned about what Future Child #8's morning meals might look like if my steady decline in breakfast standards is any indication.  I think as long as I don't go the dry Lucky Charms, cookies, and a soda route, I'll consider breakfast a success. 

"Foster Friday" Tips - Time Saving Tips

I recently asked for topic suggestions on "Trippin's" Facebook page because I've been suffering from crazy writer's block this past, oh...  YEAR!  Lol.  :-)  I received several requests for organizational tips and ways to keep on top of all of the paperwork and other foster care requirements, so I thought I'd write this one first.

I had previously written a post about my personal organization method, and that really hasn't changed.  You can view the entire post here, but in a nutshell, my biggest tips are:

• Set up a permanent binder for each child in your home upon placement that will ultimately include everything related to that child.
• Include a smaller "appointment folder" with frequently used forms and other paperwork that is required for doctor, dentist, therapist appointments, etc.  This is your "grab and go" folder that you will take to routine appointments in order to avoid having to lug the huge binder with you.
• Create a "to do folder" that includes paperwork and other things that need to be followed up with that week.  
• Find a good "Mom's dayplanner" that includes lots of room for jotting down notes and for keeping track of multiple children's appointments.
• Routine.  Routine.  Routine!  Set aside the same time every week for completing foster care related paperwork.  Having a set time and place to complete your weekly reports goes a long way towards helping you stay on top of all of the required documentation without having it pile up and become overwhelming.

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One topic that I haven't really elaborated much on is that of time management.  After five and half years juggling home visits, doctor appointments, therapy, court dates, visitations, training classes, etc., I've developed some good time management strategies that have really seemed to help.

• Fill out weekly/monthly paperwork with the information that will not change (ex. name, ID numbers, address, etc.) and make copies for future use. This one quick step will save hours over the course of the year depending on how many children and how much regular paperwork you are required to turn in.
• Take the maximum allowed number of training hours completing online courses.  Most agencies/counties allow a certain percentage of your annual training hours to be taken via different forms of media.  You can easily get two hours of credit in 30 minutes or less when you take online courses.  You also save on driving time and the hassle of locating approved babysitters.  Ask your agency/county about how many online hours are allowed each year.
• Whenever possible, double up!  Meaning if you already have to take a relevant class, seminar, etc., ask your agency/county if those hours can be counted towards your annual training credits.  I have had agencies that issued 30 minutes of training credit when I submitted a copy of my quarterly WIC training certificate.  The class is required in order to maintain your child's WIC benefit, so being able to "double up" and use it for foster care training hours as well is a time saving benefit!  
• "Doubling up" works well when it comes to monthly home visits as well.  In any given month, I can have 5 or more people visiting my home.  Because I work full-time and can't be taking off work at the drop of a hat, I have a monthly home visit method that works out well for me.  Each month, I set aside  one or two days for home visits, doctor appointments, etc.  I tell my children's caseworkers, CASA workers, my agency worker, etc. what days we will be available during the day, and tell them that they can come any time on those days or they will have to come in the evening or on the weekend.  Once I have one person schedule, I try to get the others to come at the same time.  This tends to be very beneficial to everyone as it's a good time to get everyone involved on the same page.  Workers can ask questions to each other, and you as the foster parent, can learn a lot more than if you were simply meeting one on one.
• Ask if your workers can occasionally do their monthly visit's at your child's daycare or school.  I had been fostering for nearly a year before one worker told me "That's okay.  If you can't get off work, I can just stop by his daycare. We do it all the time!"  That would have been nice to know before I took off work multiple times a month for nearly a year!
• Utilize therapists that come to your child rather than having to take your child to their office whenever possible.  I had a similar experience when it came to my teen's weekly therapy appointments that I had with the caseworker.  I had no idea that she made home visits until we had been going to her office every week for months!

I'm sure there are more time saving strategies when it comes to managing the busy schedules that being a foster parent inevitably create.  I'm always looking for more!  What time saving tips do you use when it comes to foster care?

Doctor Office Torture

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Having spent what seemed like 7,000 hours in two doctors' offices with a 19-month-old last week, I think I can safely say that a root canal without anesthesia performed by a blind Tourette's patient would quite possibly be a more pleasant experience than what I endured.  I'm sure that anyone who has ever taken a toddler to the doctor can sympathize with me.

Bug's appointment on Tuesday was with his new non-Medicaid (HOLLA!!!) primary care doctor, so of course they handed me a stack of incredibly detailed paperwork to complete in the waiting room.  I tucked us into the thankfully empty children's corner and tried to contain him while I spent entirely too long filling out those forms.

With his uncanny ability to know the precise moment that Mommy is distracted, Bug took the opportunity to attempt to:

• climb every empty chair in our corner
• move furniture
• pull out every book and magazine he could find
• "straighten" all of the art on the walls

Then the little toot noticed the giant aquarium on the other end of the packed waiting room and took off running for it the second I went to sign my name on one of the 10,000 forms.  That's when Bug realized that there was so much more to offer in that room than what our little corner had provided, and I spent the next 30 minutes attempting to distract him with snacks, his sippy cup, books, anything to get him to stay close me. I would have given him a Sharpie and let him color on the walls if I'd had one available!  At one point, I had my clipboard in hand completing forms and had Bug securely locked in "leglock" of sorts just to keep him from running up to complete strangers and shouting "HI!"  

All I could think of as I called out Bug's name for the millionth time was this skit that Bill Cosby had done about 4-year-old "Jeffrey."

Kind of like "Jeffrey" -



Yes...  That was my son...  "Jeffrey."  I was shocked that I didn't hear applause when the nurse finally called us back to the exam room!

Any hopes that I had that waiting in the exam room with Bug would be easier were quickly dashed when he realized that he could open the door all by himself.  I sat on the floor with my back to that door filling out even more forms as Bug took the opportunity to explore his new surroundings.  He once again pulled out every book, magazine, and puzzle in the room.  He pushed the doctor's rolling stool around the room until he realized that it swiveled.  Then he laid on top of it on his stomach and spun around and around in circles.  He located the brand new Kleenex box as well as the trash can.  I am fully expecting a bill for tissues and a new puzzle as I am fairly certain an entire box of Kleenex and a puzzle piece or two ended up in there.  He found the crinkle paper on the exam table and tried to "mummify" himself.  I believe he spotted the computer just as the doctor arrived.  At least that was one crisis averted!

As soon as the doctor walked in, Bug sat quietly in the corner putting together a puzzle (the one without the missing pieces hidden in the trash can).  She probably took one look at me...  the out of breath, perspiration-drenched, disheveled mess with the glazed-over expression, rocking herself back and forth in the fetal position...  and thought to herself that I probably needed medical intervention more than the adorable, well-behaved toddler who smiled up at her with his big hazel eyes and adorable grin.  I apologized for his behavior earlier, and she just smiled and nodded with that "knowing" look that car mechanics get when you tell them your car is acting up and it drives perfectly for them.

Bug was an angel throughout the entire exam.  He got his 18-month shots like a trooper, and then my little terror in size 5 toddler shoes reached into the diaper bag, grabbed his sparkly pink Mr. Flamingo Bird, held my hand, and we walked out the door as he exclaimed "bye-bye!" to every person we passed along the way to our car.  Apparently the sight of a little boy with a sparkly pink flamingo in tow goes a long way towards restoring peace and tranquility where chaos once reigned.  The other patients who will forevermore remember my child's name just as Mr. Cosby will remember "Jeffrey" were all smiles and gushing all over my son as we walked towards our car.

...where he promptly fell asleep with Mr. Flamingo Bird in his arms.

Another "First"

So a couple of weeks ago, I added another item to the list of "Things I Never Thought I'd Do Before Foster Care" when I wrote a letter to Bug's birthmother in prison.  I have never met the woman who gave birth to my son, and she hasn't seen him since he was two months old so I really didn't know what to expect.  I had heard from several different sources over the past year and a half that led me to believe that despite everything that happened early in his life and the choices that she made, she loves Bug very much.  The fact that she voluntarily relinquished her parental rights and added for the record that she knew that Bug was in a good and loving home and would have the life that she wants for him with me gave me the added push to reach out to her when Bug's adoption became finalized.

I had no idea what to say or where to begin.  What exactly do you say to the woman who gave your son life, but made terrible choices that ultimately ended in her losing her child?  I decided to start by explaining who I was and letting her know that I was writing because I wanted to tell her about Bug.  I knew that she had a general idea of who Bug was with after meeting Heaven's mother in jail earlier last year and Heaven making the connection (another one of those "only in foster care" moments), but I was never allowed to contact her while Bug was a ward of the state.  Now that he's officially mine, I wanted to do what I thought was right for my son and reach out to the woman who loved him first.

I told her all about Bug's personality, his likes and dislikes, shared a couple of funny stories, and sent a few recent photos.  I acknowledged that I understood how difficult it was for her to relinquish and to be apart from him. I ended by opening the door for contact with me and told her that I understood if that would be too difficult. I didn't specifically say "thank you for giving me my son" - just acknowledged her feelings and put the ball in her court for correspondence with me.  I specifically said, "My hope is that you would like to keep in contact and that [Bug] will have the opportunity to meet you and know you when he’s older." I thought that statement would make it clear that there will be no personal contact with Bug now, but that I'm not opposed to it in the future.

Then I looked up the guidelines for mailing letters to inmates at her prison because I had no clue what I was doing, wrote what seemed like a novel to address an envelope, plopped on a couple of stamps, and dropped the letter in the outgoing mail at work (I'm sure the mailroom staff had some raised eyebrows when they came across that one!).  That was two weeks ago, and I have since sat with baited breath and wondered whether or not I had done the right thing.

Then came today...

I woke up with a gnawing feeling that I needed to go check Bug's PO box.  I set up a post office box under his birth name so his birth family could maintain contact with him and we could maintain our anonymity.  His maternal grandmother was given the address back in September, but has never used it and the box has sat unused since it was opened.

                             Until today!!!

I drove to the post office at lunch, and in our box was a lone key to one of the parcel boxes.  Inside was a package that contained this book, a CD, and a form letter from the director of the volunteer organization that helps incarcerated mothers connect with their children by giving them the opportunity to read a book to their child.  I immediately put the CD in my car's CD player and was able to hear the voice of the young woman who gave birth to my son as she read the book that she had chosen especially for him.

Several people have asked me how I can be so invested in my children's birth families.  Why does it matter so much to me that my children have some sort of connection to the people who gave them life when they failed them time and time again?  For me, the answer is simple.  I have three forever children whose birthmothers have all battled addictions and demons that they just haven't been able to overcome.  They love their children, but addiction often has such an incredible stronghold over a person that someone without a strong support system simply can't escape it.  I love my children more than words can say, and I feel like I owe it to them to extend a piece of that love to the women who gave birth to them - to show them compassion and grace.

Bug's birthmother may never be able to overcome her addictions or heal to the point where she can have an ongoing relationship with him, but as of today my son will be able to hear the voice of his first mommy telling him that he "is more loved than he will ever know."  And that, my friends, is worth the risk.