Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
An Answer for Everything
Little Sister is talking up a storm. But now she has answers for everything. The SAME answers for almost everything, but answers nonetheless.
Where? "Hiding!"
Who? "Somebody!"
Why? (which she hears 500 times a day from two big sisters) "BeCAUSE!"
The speech geek in me is having so much fun watching this kid learn to talk. My favorite lately is that "Mommy, hold you!" has turned into "Mommy, hold you me, please."
Love, love, LOVE this girl.
Where? "Hiding!"
Who? "Somebody!"
Why? (which she hears 500 times a day from two big sisters) "BeCAUSE!"
The speech geek in me is having so much fun watching this kid learn to talk. My favorite lately is that "Mommy, hold you!" has turned into "Mommy, hold you me, please."
Love, love, LOVE this girl.
All I Really Need to Know I Learned Fostering
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.
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.
Getting Older
Two girls and I were talking about my upcoming birthday.
"How old you gonna be?" asked Glamour Girl.
"39."
"GRACIOUS, Mom! How's your head gonna fit in the car when you're that big???"
I am not sure which I love more: The question or the fact that the kid who knows how to flip someone off used the word "Gracious" as an expletive. Maybe a bit of both.
"How old you gonna be?" asked Glamour Girl.
"39."
"GRACIOUS, Mom! How's your head gonna fit in the car when you're that big???"
I am not sure which I love more: The question or the fact that the kid who knows how to flip someone off used the word "Gracious" as an expletive. Maybe a bit of both.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
FAQ #6
"How do you do it?"
This comes from people who are really just acknowledging the four under four thing. They shouldn't have a clue by looking at us that we are a foster family. Most people, I would guess, assume the bigs are twins and the littles are far enough apart to have come from the same momma. It comes from people in parking lots, sprinkler parks, and waiting rooms. It still comes from people who have known us as long as we've been a family of five. It just seems to be coming so much lately.
How do I do it?
...not always gracefully
...with a blind eye to dust bunnies under the beds and weeds in the garden
...with a sense of humor
...and some patient children who are mostly really good listeners
...with camera in hand
...with as much sleep as four kids allow
...and as many M and M's as my hands can hold at times
...prayerfully but maybe not always sensibly?
...knowing that we won't always be us
...but wishing we would be
...with endless support
...and with much appreciation for the people who believed that we'd be fine.
This comes from people who are really just acknowledging the four under four thing. They shouldn't have a clue by looking at us that we are a foster family. Most people, I would guess, assume the bigs are twins and the littles are far enough apart to have come from the same momma. It comes from people in parking lots, sprinkler parks, and waiting rooms. It still comes from people who have known us as long as we've been a family of five. It just seems to be coming so much lately.
How do I do it?
...not always gracefully
...with a blind eye to dust bunnies under the beds and weeds in the garden
...with a sense of humor
...and some patient children who are mostly really good listeners
...with camera in hand
...with as much sleep as four kids allow
...and as many M and M's as my hands can hold at times
...prayerfully but maybe not always sensibly?
...knowing that we won't always be us
...but wishing we would be
...with endless support
...and with much appreciation for the people who believed that we'd be fine.
Stop Lights
There are two stoplights in our daily lives that I hate. First, because they each take about an entire song to get through. Second, because they are not in the best areas that we travel, so I end up answering lots of questions about what we see.
For instance, yesterday on the way to daycare, we sat at a light while a lady outside stood begging for money. Well, actually not begging, but yelling at us. "Yo! Yo! Yo!" "Why's her yelling at us?" asks the Glamorous one. "Because the light is green now." And off I drove.
Today, we sat waiting to turn near the CPS office. A woman was on the median talking to a police officer. I am not sure why...it wasn't obvious by looking around...but she was there, with no car and no other people. Just the officer and the lady. "Why that lady's talkin' to that cop?" asks Big. "Hm, I don't know, I can't really tell." "Maybe her was running too fast." "Why would a police talk to her about that?" I wonder. "Cuz her doesn't have a car so it can't be cuz her was DRIVING too fast!"
For instance, yesterday on the way to daycare, we sat at a light while a lady outside stood begging for money. Well, actually not begging, but yelling at us. "Yo! Yo! Yo!" "Why's her yelling at us?" asks the Glamorous one. "Because the light is green now." And off I drove.
Today, we sat waiting to turn near the CPS office. A woman was on the median talking to a police officer. I am not sure why...it wasn't obvious by looking around...but she was there, with no car and no other people. Just the officer and the lady. "Why that lady's talkin' to that cop?" asks Big. "Hm, I don't know, I can't really tell." "Maybe her was running too fast." "Why would a police talk to her about that?" I wonder. "Cuz her doesn't have a car so it can't be cuz her was DRIVING too fast!"
Monday, July 18, 2011
Hand Signals
"MOOOOMMMMY! Look what I can do!" she screamed when I picked her up from school:
Why is this noteworthy?
Because for seven months now, it's looked like this:
Not sure who felt the inclination to fix this.
In other hand gesture news, two big girls have learned to sign "I love you." Big Sister reminded us all in the car tonight: Mom, remember last night I kept loving you? I was loving you so so so much with my hands like this? And I kept saying 'Mama, look. Look. LOOK!!!!"
"Yeah, I remember that."
"That was pretty funny, wasn't it?"
Why is this noteworthy?
Because for seven months now, it's looked like this:
Not sure who felt the inclination to fix this.
In other hand gesture news, two big girls have learned to sign "I love you." Big Sister reminded us all in the car tonight: Mom, remember last night I kept loving you? I was loving you so so so much with my hands like this? And I kept saying 'Mama, look. Look. LOOK!!!!"
"Yeah, I remember that."
"That was pretty funny, wasn't it?"
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