Scars Are Like Tattoos With A Better Story

And this is where you earn your chops or as The Mr. says, where we get our street cred as foster parents. This is the part that they gloss over in the endless hours of training.

There is no pretty answer. There is no right.

Today the mail person came to my door. Never a good sign. I had to sign for a summons.

Again. Not a good sign.

It's a hearing to make official in court the change of placement for Little One. We will go to court in early October, probably never get the opportunity to say a single word, and hear the judge order him to be moved from our home to his uncle's home. It will be almost exactly 2 years. 2 years and 9 days.

In those 2 years we have taken a little person who was a barely surviving little lump of baby to a thriving all-boy 2 year old toddler complete with attitude, sense of humor and definite likes and dislikes.

In less than a month I will try to explain this and have it make sense, not only to myself, but to every person connected to us, why this little person will move on to another home.

I want to pitch my own tantrum right now, but in between crying and throwing up, I don't have the time. I have to get him ready to go.

And in a way, this isn't a bad solution. We've known it's been a possibility for a very long time. He will be with his siblings and his extended family. He will be able to maintain a relationship with his parents. This isn't a fail.

But it doesn't make it easy.

I will sort through the toys and books and clothes and movies to separate his from ours. Again.

I will take more pictures and movies and fill up his book and mine. I will hope and pray that we will remain more than a fuzzy hopeful feeling in his life. I will hope his "new" family will allow him to keep his photo book from his years with us. I will hope that they'll allow him some sort of contact with us, but I know what reality is.

I will take a family, short one member, to Disney this fall and we will all be enjoying it, but remembering the one who is most obsessed with Mouse. We will wonder what the look on his face would have been upon seeing Mouse up close and personal. We'll have our Halloween wondering what he's dressing up as and our Christmas buying a few less gifts.

We will not be bitter.

We will take more kids in.

Our hearts will break again.

And again.

And again.

But dear friends, if my heart doesn't tear from this than I'm doing it all wrong. If I don't love this child, or any child placed with me as if it were my own and mine forever, I'm doing all of us a disservice.

I will get to the other end of this journey and wonder how I've managed to walk so much of the path without my bestie. I never thought the silence would be this long and the ups and downs have been so much more than I've shared and there have been so many moments that I thought, oh no, I cannot do this alone. I cannot walk this path and yet I have.

No, that's not a God thing. This is an earthly thing I'm whining about. God has been there more than you could imagine as we've taken this journey with this Little One.

Besides, I prayed, just last night about this particular situation. I prayed for Little One to have his situation resolved soon according to His will for him, not my own wants and by noon today, I sat on my sofa, summons in hand.

Be careful what you pray for. You might indeed receive it.

I did not cry in front of Little One's therapy person as I read the summons.

Most likely I will not cry in front of you. Nor will I entertain much small talk or God cliches about this situation. I don't want platitudes. I don't want to hear what a great thing it was he had those 2 years with us. I don't want to hear much of anything.

I don't want to hear how I signed up for this heart ache and took my family along for the ride.

Sincerely, if I'm alive, really alive, and living the way God has called me to live (notice I said me, not you) than big parts of this will sting. Life is hard and bittersweet if you're really living it.

I don't want a life that's all cotton candy and rainbows. It's great to have good times and easy times, but I don't grow much in them and I don't serve many people in them. I'm not bone tired and soul weary at the end of those days. To have some is to have some refreshment, but to live a whole life of easy and happy, seems to me that I'm living on the surface and ignoring so much.

There is so much more to say and yet, it's all words, meaningless words.

I could rattle away and try to explain, but the thing is, I still have a homework deadline to meet. There is still football practice and youth group and a hubby on the other side of the country to deal with.

Life does not stand still just because we receive a blow.

Chatter

So while I'm waiting and wading my way through this most yucky stretch of obedience I thought I'd fill up a little space here. I've got some big and frivolous thoughts all mixed together.

I was having, what I'd like to think of as perhaps one of the best summers I've had in years and years, only to find it suddenly being sucked right out from underneath me. No, wait. That's not exactly it. It's like a strange sucking hole. I saw it coming. I knew it was coming. From the minute we lost our first case worker, I just had a feeling this Little One was going to slip from us. It's okay. In a strange, sick, weird way, I know we're doing the right things. I know it will end well enough, but in a way, it's sucking a bit of life from us.

Just yesterday I thought, the sky is brilliant and the summer sun is at it's very best. And. I. feel. nothing.
The best tunes are blaring and I should be having that summer trippy music happy grove. But. I. can't. hear. it.
I have great and wonderful friends all around. But I've shut the door and stopped answering the phone. I hear you. I appreciate you. But I need a space. I know at least one of you "gets" that, but dang it, you're about the only one I could stand to talk with these days and you've been in your own quiet for months on end now. Life is stupid that way.

Court is tomorrow, so our time is almost up, the unexpected can always happen, but...

On the other hand, this life sucking phase is, well, sucky, so I'm going to skip it for a while. Instead we'll move on to some of the fluffy and fun.

I'm going to just state for the record how much I love having people in my life that don't fit the mold. I had a ridiculous great night last night, you know, the kind, I bet. A five minute conversation turns into a 5 hour thing and you cover everything and anything in the course of it. You laugh and you hit deep waters and. it's. just. plain. delightful. Then by morning you realize you are old. My sweet, beautiful, amazing friend is almost exactly 20 years, yeah, years, my junior. But it's good. I just can't quite remember when I stopped being 20. I love knowing all I know now and I wouldn't change my life, but still somehow, I'm still 20-ish deep in my mind.

Another friend lost her momma this week. Seriously. It makes my "tragedy" minor. My loss is really a half win, but insanely, I don't know how to walk this path.

I told you this would be a wandering one.

And I read a book. Well, that's not news. I read all kinds of books all the time, but this one really got me thinking. If you're even slightly interested it was Crazy Love, by Francis Chan. I'm sure there are plenty of you who will tell me with all seriousness to be very careful because his theology is off or whatever is the current buzz word way of saying that book is a piece of crap. Whatever. Don't read it then. I like to read different things. I've read the Bible, so I sort of feel like I can read a few of these other books and be smart enough to make some observations and maybe even learn a thing or two. Anyway.

It got me thinking about a zillion different things, but the thought that has run around in my mind the most lately is a big giant what if.

What if, all we "good Christians" did a little about face? What if we lived on the amount we gave away and what if we gave away the amount we lived on? You know, sort of totally reversed our budgets. I know, some of us give more time than money or whatever, but you get the idea. What if my family lived only on the amount of money we give away to charities and missionaries? What if I gave away all the money we budget for our families daily living? What if everyone did that?

Try to imagine the impact. Even if it was just one community doing it. Or what if it was our church doing something like that? What if our church decided to have a little "community pow wow" and pitch the idea that if we all gave up even some of our "glitzy" programing and all stepped in more, we could give away so much more? Would all the Christians leave for another church with more flash?

Yesterday we made the arrangements for Little One to begin the transition. The first overnights are planned.

The Mr. and I went on a little date. Yeah, it's actually news worthy. We don't go often. It's a chore with so many kids, but this week with half away at grandma and grandpa's, it was easier.

We had an old married date. First we went to Target. Then we went to a restaurant we had a gift card for. Then we went to another place to have a drink and watch the end of the Brewer's game. After that we went to the grocery store and called it a night. Yeah, we're that kind of fun around here.

In other news, I'm taking another parenting class, cause you know, it's what foster parents do. Usually they are a combination of boring, useless and repetitive. This one is boring and repetitive, but it has had some real gems of information too. Granted I think I got the majority of the valuable information on day one of the class, but it was still worth the $60.

I might just become a reformed Love & Logic-er. Don't get me wrong. I think L & L is great. And I really like the Have a New Kid in a Week or New Kid by Friday, whatever it is. Both are really great and I think laid some of the ground work for making this course as useful as it is. In fact, if I look back, I think all the different parenting training I've had since becoming a foster mom has helped with my, um, challenging kids.

Anyway. The premise of this class is pretty simple and leaves you going, well, duh. And then you start saying to yourself, it can't really be that simple, but dang if it isn't and it does work.

The ideas are pretty simple.

1. One human being can't control another and so the idea that a parent can control a child is false.
2. What you see as bad/negative behaviors are symptoms and you need to discover the cause, not simply control the symptoms.
3. The magic wand of parenting is listening.
4. Always listen first and talk second, after all, you are the parent and you will get to have your say in the end.
5. The most important part of listening is shutting your own mouth.
6. Listening does not equal agreement or permission.
7. There are 3 ways to listen. Acknowledge what they say, ask questions about what they say and reflect back what they said in their own words.
8. Listening builds respect and trust.
9. With respect and trust you will earn cooperation.
10. With cooperation you are able to make agreements.

I know, not rocket science here, but go ahead and give it a little try with your kids or some adults in your planet. It doesn't seem like much of a change in how you already live and interact, but it is.

Some simple examples? I'd like you to get in the car and put on your seat belts so we can get going, instead of, get in the car and put on your seat belt. No one likes to be told what to do. Please don't throw toys. What made you want to throw them? The what question instead of why did you do that, will allow the child to tell you what happened or what they're feeling and later, after they've done some talking, you can re-establish that throwing toys is not the best way to handle their feelings.

So there you go. Something new to think about.

God, Gays, Little Kids & My Heart

I'd love to tell you the back story to all this, but thanks to foster care having rules much like the confidentiality in medicine (and with good valid reasons) I can't.

Suffice it to say, The Mr. and I have been having some interesting conversations these days.

I'll give you the briefest of outlines, let you fill in your own blanks and hope you get to thinking about life and what you believe you know and what you believe you believe.

• The Mr. and I, Bible believing Christians
• Personally, I think a sin is a sin, nothing has more weight than anything else in God's eyes. He's told us what to do and what not to do and we each have our sins that we're guilty of and we will each work it out with Him.
• I don't want to be the sort of person who goes around telling other sinners how and where they're wrong or how they ought to get it together. Ought is an ugly word.
• I don't know that I've ever been at the point of condemning homosexuals. They are people who want to be in loving relationships too, just like us. I am not going to tell a person they cannot have their hope for a life long love.
• I want the "solution" for Little One and his sibs to be the one that really is in the best interest of the child.
• Sometimes the solution that is the best isn't the one I'd like or choose. But that alone doesn't make it wrong.
• Sometimes the best solution is not a family that looks like mine, but instead one that keeps all the extended family ties and one that keeps a sib group together.
• Now, even though it seems to go "against" the "right" I find I'm cheering for the "wrong".
• I know what the Bible says. I've read it front to back personally, just so I could really know what it says, but I also know about a living God and a personal relationship with Him. I know that I am not judge and I know that I am charged with the goal of loving everyone, my enemy, my neighbor, the sinner and the righteous.
• I want these two men to have as long and successful, healthy, happy, loving relationship as possible. I want them to be supported by their friends, family and community, especially as they raise these 3 little people that I've come to love dearly over the last 2 years.
• So I wonder, all you smart, perhaps smug, uber-Christians, what is the answer?
• I know I can't go condemning "them", in fact, I find myself praying for them and their family.
• I'm guessing it's a lot easier to be Christian when life is crisp and clean and black and white.
• Wait, I know it was. When I led my life with all the Christian lingo and going through all the motions of doing the right things, it was easy. I was quick to see who and what was right and wrong. Now that life is so complicated and muddy, I can't seem to see the right and wrong line in the sand.
• What I do see is what God whispers in my heart. Trust in me and I will make the path. Do not worry. Do not be afraid. Let those without sin throw the first stone. Pride before the fall. See how I loved you? Now love others as I have shown you. Love your enemy. Love your neighbor.
• I have no answers and often I can't see any farther down my path but the next step.

Now, I admit, this is one of my least readable posts to you all, but on the other hand, there is a lot to process and it's pretty hard to make it clear and have it not be a 1000 page book. Besides, it's a little brain buster, a little Friday afternoon get your mind working and your opinions flowing.

What's your take on all this? I'd really love to know. So go ahead, fill up the comment boxes, let's get a little conversation happening here!

Things I Almost Wish I'd Say

Let's begin with the obvious. I'm white. The Mr. is white. Little Mr. and Littlest Mr.-white. Little Miss, not so much. This leads to interesting, or rather, annoying exchanges with strangers.

It appears that I am not the only person who lacks a good and reliable filter and stopper on the brain to mouth alley.

I get all the usual comments. Let's take a look at a few and all the things I almost wish I'd thought of saying at the moment. I'm not sure if I just don't think fast enough to come up with these at the time or if I'm just experiencing a mild mental jam as I try to both censor my expression of stunned shock and be polite all at once.

Let's begin with, "Oh, is she yours?" I think I'd really like to say, "No, she's a rental." and just walk away. Maybe, "Why do you ask?" or "No, not at all. I always encourage stray children to call me mama." I could go with something like, "You asked, now she's yours, no tag backs!" and then run away down the grocery aisle as fast as I can, laughing in a really maniacal way. That one would be the most fun, but then Little Miss would begin to think that the market is where we play tag.

Oh, wait. Who am I kidding? She already thinks that.

Another favorite of mine, the multiple variations on, "She's black?!" There are so many ways to have fun with this, I almost don't know where to begin. Let's see, "shh, don't tell her, it's a secret." "No, she just needs a bath." "No, she's tan." "No, she's a girl." "Well...she doesn't glow in the dark like her brothers..." "Are you sure she's not a dark purple?"

The "She's black" comments usually lead into an awkward moment where someone tries to ask about The Mr. or tries to fish for information without just stating the obvious, "Hey wait, you and your hubby are white and the girl isn't." Yeah, there are a lot of geniuses out there. I think it would be fun tackle these with some real fun responses. "Shh, my husband doesn't know, he's colorblind." The Mr. really is colorblind. "We were really surprised too. We didn't expect her to come out black." "Mmm, hmm, you only wish you knew a black man like that, mmm, hmm." Whoops. Back to the family channel. And once again with the truth, "We let God plan our family."

And we do.

I Know I'm Whining But I Sort Of Have A Point

But come on now. I've been having an experience today in Foster Care Land that makes me see exactly how it is that cases end up as front page news or breaking head lines. I'm getting a clear picture of just exactly why some of these laws to make sure a definite plan is put in place for a child on a time frame.

It's a little frustrating.

Now, I know how this goes. I know I'm complaining. I know that I've done what I can do at this point to fix up any loose ends that I'm really able to impact. I know that everything else for me has to rest on faith. I know that I believe my God really is in charge of this whole thing even though my very limited sight line doesn't show me how it ends up.

I believe I can be both frustrated and faithful. But there is a line there. I cannot allow my frustrations in humans and their failings or what I see as their failings draw a line between God and I. That would be an even bigger issue.

It's the same, in a way, with my issue with my friend. Yesterday I was letting my frustration with silence build an attitude that I don't want to harbor in my heart. She has a place in my heart and in my life that is hers alone and no one and nothing can fill it up. It is simply hers. Having her being quiet, a measure that is in no small part saving her from a big ol' pile of yuck, is hard. No doubt about it. Since last fall there have been many, many times that I simply wanted to hear her voice or share a laugh. I wanted to have her being a part of my joy and standing with me for a moment when sorrow or frustration hit. It's weird. A strange sort of lonely. I know she will be back. I know we have much laughter to share in the future. I know there will be tea and talking and tears and it will all return in it's time.

But again. Sometimes it's frustrating.

And I could let that frustration draw a line between us that would slowly become a giant chasm.

I choose not to.

In the mean time, in real life, we've entered the terrible Tuesdays. For the next few weeks we have 2 kids in 2 different activities at exactly the same time. It's simply the plague of parenting. You are but one person and need to be in many places being many things to many children all at once. How we ever do it and have it be enough for any one of the kids, I'll never know. It almost makes me wish I had that time stopping and restarting thing from those Harry Potter books. Remember that thing-y? It would be super useful wouldn't it?

Yeah, you know it would.

Foster The Grouch

I've been doing this foster care thing for a while now, and I like to think that I've learned well how to let things slide off me and how to leave things at the cross.

There are a few times though, when I feel like Foster the Grouch instead of a foster momma. Maybe it's just my momma bear in action. Who knows? What I do know is that there are two times when I feel cranky with a birth parent.

Now, there are plenty of times that I feel cranky about the whole dang system, the policies, the politics, the courts, the 10,000 people who all have their hand in a case claiming they're doing something "for the good of the child"--yeah, right.

Anyway.

One of the two times that I get cranked off with a birth parent is when they question my intentions, especially when I'm intentionally doing something I see as positive. Granted, I can be short sighted and forget to look at a situation thoroughly from another person's perspective, but still, when I'm the sole caregiver for your precious child, don't, I mean it, don't question my motives. I have yet to meet a birth parent that I didn't root for, pray for and sincerely hope that they would figure out all their stuff and get it together to have their kid back. That's the best thing for everyone, but sometimes it doesn't go that way.

The second time that I turn into Foster the Grouch is when I'm doing seemingly endless rounds of medical appointments or getting ready to take a child in for surgery. Every stinkin time I sit with a sick, crying baby in my arms, that has to endure some awful medical something, even a booster shot, I get cranky. I sit stewing just a little thinking where is that parent. This is the real deal in parenting. You should be here. This is where it all hits the fan because you have to be able to do these things for your child and for you to just allow someone else, some stranger, to be the one to hold and comfort your baby while he or she endures whatever necessary medical thing is happening, just plain cranks me up.

It's unfair to all of us. It's unfair to the child. They need their parent. Period. It's unfair to the birth parent. They need to learn to handle life with a child. They need to prove to everyone, themselves included, that they can do it. And can I tell you, even though I signed on for this, even though it's my "job", it's unfair. It feels unfair to be the go between, in this situation. I feel this way on holidays too. It feels unfair to ask me to fill up the hole that the birth parent leaves in a child by simply not being there. It's unfair because it's a hole too big for a simple replacement human to fill.

It's the rub of this job. Even the seemingly self-righteous crank drives me to prayer. I simply don't believe it's possible to live this life without dropping to my knees and being fully dependent on HIM to get by, to get through.