A little rain never hurts.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Two Weeks In
This is my Facebook status today, in honor of one friend who likes to "keep it real" by announcing her parenting flaws:
We are doing this fostercare thing in style. We hit the ground running at almost midnight two weeks ago and haven't stopped since.
Welcome Speed, my handsome three-year-old, who doesn't talk much and was recently described by someone as "a darter." Keep your eye on this boy. Not just because if you turn your back he's run way far away from you, but because he's going to move fast in the healing process. I see the sparkle in his eye every now and again and just know it.
Welcome Sunshine, my darling two-year-old, whose real name is the most fitting name for her ever. Sunshine saves her words for rare instances. She is an observer who pops into our play and conversation at her own pace. She is mama to our baby. She is mama to our brother. She is learning to be two.
Welcome Chickadee, my adorable 12 month old, who is as teeny as they come. She has humongous eyes that watch us all. She gives bear hugs around my neck. She loves the carrier. She eats like a football player.
There was a time not long ago where kids were put here to stay. Not once, but twice. I have a healing house for bio moms, I guess. There was also a time not long ago when my focus changed from what I wanted for the kids to what I wanted for me.
It all felt wrong.
So here we are again. Loving on other people's babies while they can't. Showing kids how to go down slides and make bubbles out of soap on their hands. Teaching them ABCs, 123s, This Little Piggy, and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. Accepting that they probably aren't here to stay but adoring every minute of every bit of them while they are here.
And this is my new profile picture:
We are doing this fostercare thing in style. We hit the ground running at almost midnight two weeks ago and haven't stopped since.
Welcome Speed, my handsome three-year-old, who doesn't talk much and was recently described by someone as "a darter." Keep your eye on this boy. Not just because if you turn your back he's run way far away from you, but because he's going to move fast in the healing process. I see the sparkle in his eye every now and again and just know it.
Welcome Sunshine, my darling two-year-old, whose real name is the most fitting name for her ever. Sunshine saves her words for rare instances. She is an observer who pops into our play and conversation at her own pace. She is mama to our baby. She is mama to our brother. She is learning to be two.
Welcome Chickadee, my adorable 12 month old, who is as teeny as they come. She has humongous eyes that watch us all. She gives bear hugs around my neck. She loves the carrier. She eats like a football player.
There was a time not long ago where kids were put here to stay. Not once, but twice. I have a healing house for bio moms, I guess. There was also a time not long ago when my focus changed from what I wanted for the kids to what I wanted for me.
It all felt wrong.
So here we are again. Loving on other people's babies while they can't. Showing kids how to go down slides and make bubbles out of soap on their hands. Teaching them ABCs, 123s, This Little Piggy, and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. Accepting that they probably aren't here to stay but adoring every minute of every bit of them while they are here.
Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home
Bug and Beignet, Summer 2009
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
All I Really Need to Know...
Reposting this from August 2011 because this week, it's all I need. Well, that and a trip to the bathroom without a baby strapped to my body:
Never say never.
Buy different character undies for each child...the sorting will be easier.
Don't try to sweep up rice right after dinner. It's much easier when it's dry.
Vague answers to strangers about who you are, who your kids are, and why things don't always match up are entirely appropriate and acceptable.
Three year olds like bibs too. And stroller rides. And to be held.
You can make your point known...whether it's an I love you or a get down from there this instant...regardless of what your child's primary language is.
It ain't over till the fat lady sings. Or the judge hits her gavel.
Find the source of what really angers you. It's likely not a backtalking three year old. It's more likely that that backtalking three year old will one day walk out the door. Or even more likely that that backtalking three year old wasn't treated right in a previous life.
Just when you thought you've heard it all, you realize you haven't.
There are great gifts to be had in caseworkers, fellow foster parents, visiting children, CASAs and therapists.
Many, many people out there are interested in fostering. Not enough do it.
It's easy to forget the good stuff, so write it down. Fortunately, sometimes it's possible to forget the bad stuff too, so don't bother documenting that.
We are all human. Even bio parents.
But not all humans should be raising kids.
At the end of the ride, my kids will not remember me unless their families remind them. They are too young. They will hopefully remember that they were loved by an additional momma during their time here. It's my choice to believe that part.
It's also my choice to believe that no matter how horrific the beginning, the ending will be a good one. It's called Faith.
Good endings can look like different things.
A day without vegetables kills no one. Nor does a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.
Keep extra toothbrushes on hand. And lice shampoo.
It really does take a village to raise a child.
A full night's sleep is sometimes overrated. A chance to pat someone to bed or to sing them one more song is not.
The word "hurry" carries no meaning to the under five crowd.
There's no need to point out a lie. The liar is aware.
Blood is easier to clean than vomit. Especially at 1 a.m.
If you say it enough times, they'll listen.
If you say it even more times, they'll repeat it.
Make it worth repeating.
There's a reason God inspired someone to invent paper plates.
School serves hot lunch. If you don't make a hot dinner every night, no one cares.
Masking tape, bubble wrap and shaving cream are all really cheap, really entertaining ways to keep kids busy.
Sometimes not being in control is a good, good thing.
Love them like they're staying forever. Treasure them like they're leaving tomorrow.
All I Really Need to Know I Learned Fostering
Buy different character undies for each child...the sorting will be easier.
Don't try to sweep up rice right after dinner. It's much easier when it's dry.
Vague answers to strangers about who you are, who your kids are, and why things don't always match up are entirely appropriate and acceptable.
Three year olds like bibs too. And stroller rides. And to be held.
You can make your point known...whether it's an I love you or a get down from there this instant...regardless of what your child's primary language is.
It ain't over till the fat lady sings. Or the judge hits her gavel.
Find the source of what really angers you. It's likely not a backtalking three year old. It's more likely that that backtalking three year old will one day walk out the door. Or even more likely that that backtalking three year old wasn't treated right in a previous life.
Just when you thought you've heard it all, you realize you haven't.
There are great gifts to be had in caseworkers, fellow foster parents, visiting children, CASAs and therapists.
Many, many people out there are interested in fostering. Not enough do it.
It's easy to forget the good stuff, so write it down. Fortunately, sometimes it's possible to forget the bad stuff too, so don't bother documenting that.
We are all human. Even bio parents.
But not all humans should be raising kids.
At the end of the ride, my kids will not remember me unless their families remind them. They are too young. They will hopefully remember that they were loved by an additional momma during their time here. It's my choice to believe that part.
It's also my choice to believe that no matter how horrific the beginning, the ending will be a good one. It's called Faith.
Good endings can look like different things.
A day without vegetables kills no one. Nor does a trip to Chuck E. Cheese.
Keep extra toothbrushes on hand. And lice shampoo.
It really does take a village to raise a child.
A full night's sleep is sometimes overrated. A chance to pat someone to bed or to sing them one more song is not.
The word "hurry" carries no meaning to the under five crowd.
There's no need to point out a lie. The liar is aware.
Blood is easier to clean than vomit. Especially at 1 a.m.
If you say it enough times, they'll listen.
If you say it even more times, they'll repeat it.
Make it worth repeating.
There's a reason God inspired someone to invent paper plates.
School serves hot lunch. If you don't make a hot dinner every night, no one cares.
Masking tape, bubble wrap and shaving cream are all really cheap, really entertaining ways to keep kids busy.
Sometimes not being in control is a good, good thing.
Love them like they're staying forever. Treasure them like they're leaving tomorrow.
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