A Place to Write

He closes up just a little bit when we interact with his social worker, or his education specialist, or his counselor at school or when anyone mentions his grades. Yet at home he's already asking if he can change his name to ours and when he can get a car and a job and he's snuggling with his little sisters whenever they request it. In any other case those are totally fine, normal kid behaviors--yet I find myself looking up all the services, techniques and trainings I can get my hands on to prepare myself to better handle these things. Is he attaching to us too quickly for it to be sustainable? Is he not being as real with us as I think? Is he avoiding the difficult things in his life, like school? Does he not handle authority figures well? It's very difficult for me to tell, right now, what's beyond normal and what's all in my head because my head is so full of trauma training and foster care awareness. Part of me feels like it's not fair to him. Part of me ...

We're hearing it more and more lately: "Thank goodness for people like you!" "I so admire you." "You guys are so amazing." Brendon was told that just yesterday and he finally answered very bluntly, "No--We're not." I've read it on several blogs and articles titled "What not to say to foster parents." but it's still a cliche that continues. Anyone we talk to about us becoming foster parents seems to end the conversation with "Well, you guys are so giving." or something along those lines. Thing is, we're not. We both have empathy. We do what we can. If someone asks for something or mentions a need, we try to fill it. But do I consider us to be these great, giving, selfless people? No, we're not. We avoid babysitting other people's kids. We often skip our turn cleaning the church. We don't donate to any causes or make any calls to the legislature for any reason. I'm not a part of the pa...

Foster kids get a bad rap. Even among people who are huge advocates for kids in foster care--they still warn you about everything. I know it's because as much as they've seen the good, they've also seen and heard the horror stories. Everyone just wants to be cautious. And I am. But I'm also kind of tired of being reminded. Bently approved. J has spent the night once and this weekend he'll probably spend the night again. We've submitted paperwork to make the move official and we think it'll happen the week after spring break. It's in the courts' hands. But this week we got a call from the social worker just reminding us again to keep an eye on him. The reason? Someone saw him say something dirty to a friend on Facebook once. WHAT?! A TEENAGE BOY SAID SOMETHING ENTIRELY INAPPROPRIATE TO ANOTHER TEENAGE BOY?!!? That kid must be a sexualized psycho! Or not. Look, I'm not about to leave J home alone with my two very little girls or even ...

He's going to have the best and I am going to be the one to give it to him! I'm realizing now that's been my goal with this whole foster care thing. I feel like I'm chalk full of resources so I feel like I'll make an excellent foster parent. I'm needing help convincing myself that all those camps and programs and resources aren't really what J needs from me. We met J last Monday. We went to dinner at Golden Corral--his favorite. We talked pretty casually. He didn't come off as shy or nervous at all. He did come off as very sweet and respectful. I feel like most kids who've been in the foster care system for a long time are extra respectful--because they are use to dealing with a lot of different adults and so they know the proper way to address any adult and they're cautious. They want to be liked. We did like him. We were able to joke with him a little bit. He told us he likes figuring things out and solving technical issues. He's good...

In about an hour I get off work and an hour later I will meet my teenage "son" for the first time. It feels awkward to put quotes around that so I'm stopping that now--you get what I mean though. I thought I should write down my feelings in this moment. When I first read his description, I was scared. I automatically thought "What if I can't handle it? What if he is too much for me?" Now I'm more calm. Those fears are gone. Replaced by new ones. Not fears about him, fears about myself. What if he doesn't like me? What if I can't give him what he needs? What if I'm not the person he expected? I'm a little nervous but mostly excited. Reading the email from his social worker, who told us his reaction to reading our profile, has made me feel really positive. Going into this I went in with the impression that these kids might not be grateful and we were going to have to be ok with that. That's the reality the classes prepare you for....

Tomorrow this sweet baby of mine turns 3! Can't believe my little girl is a three year old! She is also very excited to tell anyone and everyone that she is going to be three. She, like Kaybree has done in the past, is using this new definition of herself as a weapon. Whenever she is excited about doing something or angry about not being able to do something "I'm gonna be three!" is her defense. This year Eisley has asked for a Barbie and a dollhouse for that Barbie. Dollhouse probably isn't happening. Sorry kid, no space in your bedroom for a big Barbie house and definitely not two of them (since these girls can't share anything). I plan to celebrate by taking her to Enchanted Island at Encanto Park tomorrow morning with her cousins and Grandma Duck. Should be a good time. Then later that night she is going to Brittany's house (we've got an adults only dinner with family that night since Grandpa's funeral is Saturday) which ...

We have not met yet. J got his first glimpse of our profile yesterday and we hope to meet next week. His first question was "Can I call you mom and dad if I move in?" A teenager who I have not met has asked if he can call me Mom. The meaning of that word has never been greater. I realize that sounds weird because I've been a mom for more than 4 years. But that's the kind of mom everyone thinks of when you say the word. This new title has new meaning to it. This mothering is different. And I'm at a loss for words.