"Foster Friday" Guest Post: How Foster Care Has Changed Me

A Guest Post By:
Andrea from "Live with Laughter"

"How Foster Care Has Changed Me"

This is such a loaded topic.  We became foster parents nearly three years ago.  We have three wonderful sons, but I dreamed in purple and bows.  We decided to take the training to become foster parents.  After a few trainings and our home study, we got our first foster placement.  We didn't even have our license in our hands yet.  Despite being told we only wanted a girl, the van door slid open to reveal a baby boy.  Right then, I was changed.

Our sweet J came into our home at twelve weeks old.  He had a head full of black hair that I didn't know how to care for properly.  The first major change occurred when I had to question a stranger in the hair care aisle at Walmart.  Never would I have exited my nicely decorated comfort zone to speak to strangers.  Thankfully, she did not think I was insane and took the time to tell me how to care for him.  Our sweet J drooled like a faucet.  He babbled and had a giggle that sounded like a car trying to start.  I loved that little boy.  I am still in awe that my heart swelled to care for J as if he were my own.

There are other things that have changed.  I am a much more flexible person than I used to be.  Now, there are those who will still claim that I'm as flexible as wood board.  However, between doctor appointments, therapies, trainings, and the unknown, I have become much more willing to go with the flow of life.

We are on our fourth and fifth placement, and I am much more vocal for my kids now.  I will call and call and call.  I will hunt down social workers, guardian ad litems, and CASA workers.  I am committed to being an advocate for my kids.

Another change is that I am surrounded by people that I would have never invited into my life.  I try very hard to get to know my children's biological families.  I have to put my feelings aside and do what is best for my kids.

On the other side of that coin, I have had amazing people enter my life that I would have never found without being a part of the system.  Foster parents are a unique breed of humans.  We have to open out lives and hearts to children who are hurt and broken.  We have to love and care for them, and provide them with life skills and courage.  We then have to say goodbye.  No one other than another foster parent can understand what it takes to do that and then open your home and heart to another little soul.  I am so very thankful for the foster parents in my life.

There has been anxiety, tears, fear, heartache, indecision, and sorrow.  There has also been smiles, giggles, and a love like I never knew.  I have watched my three boys love and accept the little people in their lives.  I've seen my husband fall to the floor with five kids piled on him.

I always say that I truly wish foster care was not needed, that families could love and care for their own children.  That is not the case.  So since there is a need for the system, I'm happy that I get to be a part of it.

I have changed.  My calendar is overflowing.  My minivan and home are at capacity.  I have been down the tunnel of anxiety and nearly let fear overcome me, yet emerged stronger than ever.  My heart is fuller than I ever thought possible.  Most importantly, my family has expanded beyond the borders of birth and grown in a way I never expected!

When You Work for a Not-for-Profit...

I pay bills for a living.  Not exactly an overly-exciting occupation, but for the most part, it pays my bills, so I'll go with it.  ;-)  I've been working for a not-for-profit blood bank for nearly ten years now, and as time has passed it has become increasingly clear that the mentality of a not-for-profit organization is very, very different from that of a corporation.

My first clue that something was amiss was when I saw this expandable sorting folder being used by my co-worker.  Yes, this is the actual folder.  Note the use of stickers and handwritten letters to replace the tabs that had fallen off of the folder.  I laughed and asked my friend, "Why don't you just order a new one?"  Her response...  "No need to do that...  This one's still good!"  Clearly her 25 years of service to this particular organization has skewed her judgement as to what constitutes "good."  :-)

Add that "reconstructed" expanding folder to this old beauty, and you'll see just how far a good old not-for-profit will go in order to make the most of its equipment and supplies.  This is the actual copy machine that we use in our department.  That sign says, "To Make Copy, Gently Press Green Button and Move in a Counter-Clockwise Motion.  (No, really...  We're not kidding.)"  I am fairly certain this machine is older than I am, but as my friend says, "It's still good!"  It's a good thing too, because I don't believe they make the parts to fix it anymore.

About three years into my tenure here at the blood center, I got up the nerve to ask my boss if we could get electric staplers.  We each go through a good 500 staples a day, and after three years of manually stapling everything, we were starting to show signs of carpal tunal.  I wrote about my love of my new, rechargeable, battery-operated stapler once.  It was touch and go there for a while.  I practically had to write a formal proposal justifying the purchase of said stapler, but I think my employer's fear of losing the only people who paid the bills to weeks of surgical recoveries and medical leave won out.  The awesome staplers were purchased!  However we did receive strict instructions that these "were to last!"  :-)

Another sure sign that you work for a not-for-profit is the severe shortage of bonuses or perks of any kind.  When we are lucky enough to get a little something, most of my co-workers are easily appeased.  I remember the first time I witnessed the mass chaos caused by the word "FREE!"  When the sentence, "Free pencils in the breakroom!" came over the intercom one morning, the scene that played out before me was something akin to the Running of the Bulls.  Co-workers raced towards those free pencils like seagulls to potato chips, like vultures to roadkill, like Walmart shoppers on Black Friday...  I stood, my back pressed closely to the wall, and prayed that I would make it out alive.

Just when I thought I'd seen it all, we received an email from upper management informing us that all departments who participated in an upcoming survey would receive a pizza party.  All I saw was a photograph of moldy pizza.  My co-workers, on the other hand, saw "OMG!  FREE FOOD!!!"  Over the course of the next two weeks, I was hounded relentlessly by my peers.  "Have you taken your survey?"  "You've got to take your survey!"  "Hey, take your survey!"  I was afraid of a public flogging if I neglected my survey-taking duty, so I took the darn thing.  Ironically, the survey ended up being about company morale and ways to improve it.  I doubt they appreciated my smart@ss response of "Well, apparently the promise of moldy pizza works wonders around here!"

Yep, the mentality of a not-for-profit organization is quite different from that of corporation.  I am quite pleased to say that after 10 years working here, I have held strong to my beliefs and have not been permanently warped into thinking that duct tape will make my desk chair "like new again!"  My co-workers and their crazy antics just crack me up, and I am so happy that I have managed to maintain my dignit...  Hang on a sec...  They're making an announcement...

OMG!!!  FREE PENCILS IN THE BREAKROOM!!!

Gotta go...

:-)

Kids are GREAT for the Ego... (or Not...)

Kids are soooo great for the ego.  I remember one morning when Booger Bear was watching me get ready for work.  He was staring up at me with questioning wide eyes as I straightened my hair.  "This makes Mimi look pretty!" I say.  Booger smiled and sighed "Oh, yeah...  Pretty!  Yeah..."  He watched as I put on my makeup, and again said, "Oh, yeah...  Pretty!"  Just as I was about to declare to the world that I had the sweetest child on the planet, he proceeded to rub my leg and shouted, "PUPPY!!!"  F'real, kid?


You know, now that I think about it, I can probably name ten "F'real, kid?" moments for every one ego-boosting compliment that the children in my life have given me.  Even Little Miss who was pretty much non-verbal had her own unique way of tormenting me.  She would sit in my lap and play Connect the Dots with my freckles.  She also must have taken lessons from her predecessor as she was known to rub my in-need-of-a-shave legs and burst into hysterical laughter.

I began judging my hair coloring appointments by toddlers' reactions to my hair.  Monkey has a tendency to reach up and pluck individual gray hairs from my head.  I also recall one particular conversation with Buddy when he was about 2 years old.  I was sitting on the couch, holding his hands, and lifting him up as he tried to see how high he could jump.  Suddenly, he became very serious and exclaimed, "Uh-ohhhh..." every time he soared over my head.  I stood him on the ground in front of me, where this time, he pointed to my head and again says, "Uh-ohhhh..."  "What's an 'uh-oh?'  Are you pointing to my gray hairs?"  Buddy simply grins and whispers, "yesssss."  F'real, kid?!?

Just last week, Butterfly sat in my lap for an hour trying to remove the small mole that I have on my neck with her fingers.  She eventually stopped when Pooper became enthralled with my double chin, and practically pushed her off my lap so he could climb up and grab hold.  I think I still have his fingernail marks indented into my neck.  And all of this grief is just from the toddlers!!!

It gets even worse when they actually start conversing!!!  Now that Buddy and Ka-Diva have hit the oh-so-grown-up age of 7-years-old, there is no limit to the wonderful ego-boosting (or not) comments that come out of their mouths.  Christy told a story a little while back about a dinner conversation that she had with the big twins.  "I cooked dinner last night and told the kids it was something I used to eat all the time as a kid.   One of the ingredients is corn.   Ka-Diva asked me if I had to grow our own corn 'way back then.'  No dear, believe it or not, we did have grocery stores..." 

I'm fairly certain Buddy and Ka-Diva think that we celebrated the First Thansgiving with the Pilgrims and Native Americans.  We did, after all, regularly use "those funny telephones that spin."  Buddy seemed shocked that I used a typewriter in high school.  "Aren't typewriters in museums?!?"  F'real, kid?!?

Yep...  Kids are just great for the ego!  It's a good thing they're cute!  :-)

Whirlwind... Part Three

Part One here and Part Two here...  (No one wanted to wait for the whole thing at once. ;-)

After I hung up with the girls' GAL, I sent The Invisible One (IO) a text message thanking her again and telling her that I talked to the GAL.  She immediately called me.

IO - "Was she who you thought she was?"

Me - "Yep...  She doesn't know it though.  She was Booger Bear's daddy's attorney.  She was a tough one!  But she seemed all sweet and totally ga-ga over this baby."

IO - "So what do you think?"

I go on to tell her that it sounds like a perfect fit.  I talk about the ages of all of the babies in my family.  I tell her that I'd be open to fostering Big Sister if they really want to do that.  We talk about how awesome she thinks I am.  Blah-blah-blah...  ;-)

Then she springs on me...

IO - "I'm actually on my way out to see Monkey and his dad right now!  How is that going?"

I quickly change gears from "potential adoptive placement of Baby Girl and foster placement of Big Sister" to "Brag about my little Monkey" mode.  :-)

She was really happy to hear that things are going beautifully.  I told her that Monkey's dad has been amazing, and that Monkey seems to be his whole world.  He's been fantastic with me and my mom, and I don't think this arrangement could go any better than it is.  I gave her specifics on the routine, and stressed again that I have absolutely no concerns when it comes to Monkey and his dad.  It's not very often that you can say that (and really mean it) when your foster child returns home.

She was pulling in to their place, so she said that she would call me again next week...

...because she wants to talk to me about Scentsy!

Guess I was right about that one after all!  ;-)

Whirlwind... Part Two

Crazy, crazy day...  Part One is here...  I had to break it up because I have very excited friends.  :-)  Makes me very happy that you ladies are just as happy for me as I am!  Have I mentioned how much I love you guys lately???  :-)

Anyway...  Carrying on with the whirlwind of a day...  (Seriously, this entire day has my head spinning!)


1:20pm - Just before I hung up with The Invisible One, she mentions the GAL's name, and my heart leaped out of my chest.  "OMG.  I think I know her."  I didn't elaborate though.  I just told her I'd call back.

1:21pm - I call the GAL.  She answers the phone, and I immediately recognize her voice.  Yep.  She was Booger Bear's daddy's attorney when he was with me!  She was tough!  That woman scared the poo out of me!  She also didn't like me much.  I was pretty vocal when it came to my thoughts on everything that was going on in Booger's case.  Fortunately, she didn't seem to recognize my name, and I wasn't about to tell her who I was if she didn't remember!  :-)  She seemed much softer and nicer after I told her why I was calling.  I learned:

• She said she was probably overstepping her bounds by approaching me, but she has a soft spot for this baby girl and wants to make sure she's in a great permanent home.

• She really thinks highly of The Invisible One and respects her opinion.  If The Invisible One says I'm fantastic, she believes her.  (Thank you, Invisible One!!!)

• 11-month-old baby girl in care since September (most of her life) and currently in a foster home with her almost 3-year-old half sister.

• The foster home that the girls are currently in is a good one, but the foster parents are more of the "grandparent" type, and not in a position to adopt.

• TPR scheduled on October 1st for the 11-month-old...  The plan is for the half sister to go to a friend of her father's grandmother, but they don't want the 11-month-old because she's not his.  :(  (So sad that they are splitting the girls up...)

• She springs on me that the caseworker wants to move the girls together, although she is going to try to push to keep the 2-year-old in her current home so she doesn't have to move in with me, only to be moved again in a few months.  I told her that I am licensed and have the space, so if they need to move them together, I am willing to foster Big Sister too.  I certainly wasn't planning on it, but I'll make it work!

• Baby Girl's bio dad is apparently in prison.  No mention of the girls' mother at any point.

• There might be a hiccup if bio dad is Native American (common where they are originally from), but so far he hasn't bothered to do much of anything regarding his daughter, so they don't expect it to be a problem.

• Baby Girl is trying to walk, babbles a lot, and says things like "poo," which the GAL was all giggly about.  You can tell she really cares about this baby.

• GAL said that she would adopt the baby herself if she wasn't 61-years-old, and she stressed again that she just wants to make sure she's in a great home.

We end the phone call with making sure we have each other's numbers, and she gets my agency information.  She tells me she is going to contact the girls' caseworker again and push to get things moving.  She stressed that it's not a "done deal" (a fact that I am completely aware of when it comes to foster care), but said that she is going to push hard.  I believe her too!  She has a reputation for getting things her way, and from what I've experienced first hand, she does!  She said we'll touch base next week.

(And now I'll do a Part Three, so you guys can read this much anyway.  ;-)