Now She Wants Him for Christmas

Where Do I Draw the Line?

Let me explain a little to you about what my 3-year-old means to me. I tried for years to have a baby and couldn't. I was one of those rare statistics who would never have my own children. Then I started doing foster care, and hoping to adopt one day. Well, in foster care, you can't hope for a baby. You almost never get to have a newborn, or near newborn, and keep them long enough to adopt. They usually go home. The ones you'll be able to adopt will be older than 5 years old 90% of the time.

I was resigned to this. I was OK with this. I'd learned to handle my own inability, and I'd learned that you can love a child just as much when you first meet them at age 2 or 4 or 15 as you do when you bond with them at birth. When the social worker called me that fateful morning, September 3rd, 2003, and asked if I'd take a newborn baby born addicted to meth, I was pretty excited. They NEVER called me with newborns. Of course I'd take him. She told us he had an older brother who lived with his grandmother (who was not this child's grandmother), and that it looked like they were going to terminate the mom's rights because she'd never done anything to get the older brother back. Wow. Now, of course, no promises. These cases take twists and turns and take you down roads you didn't even know existed, and almost never turn out like everyone expected them to.

This was one of those cases. Two years, to the day, later, mom got both boys back. She'd had another baby by now, but had given that one up for adoption. During this time, we'd worked with her a lot, so we have a good relationship with her, and she promised to never take him from our lives. And she didn't. In fact, two weeks after she got custody and the state vacated the case, he was back at our house. He was there for a "visit". Well, the visits were getting longer and longer, and his time home with mom and brother shorter and shorter. Brother wasn't even there most of the time, he was sent to his other grandmother to live. It was becoming more and more apparent that mom couldn't really handle being a mom. She was more like an aunt. Then she had her fourth baby, and decided to raise this one with it's father. But that only lasted a few months. And on my baby's 3rd birthday, she asked me to adopt him.

She has a hard time handling day to day life and staying sober, and finally realized she couldn't do all that and raise three children...or even one child. So she's giving them all up. I'm trying to get the funds together to get my home study updated so I can get the ball rolling on adopting my baby. It's slow going, I can't quite do it yet. So right now he lives with me, but there's no legal arrangement, and mom still has all legal rights and custody. It hasn't been too bad yet, and I have no problem keeping this open and letting her spend some time with him. But now I have a problem. In all his three years, mom has NEVER spent Christmas with him. She's had the opportunity for the last two years, but didn't want to. She called the other day and TOLD us she was taking him from the 22nd to the 25th out of town to spend Christmas with her mom. WHAT? I can't do anything. I don't have any legal rights yet. I tried to win the lottery a few months ago so I could get this adoption done, but that fell through. She doesn't understand that we have always been his family, and always will be, and he's already looking forward to seeing all his cousins and aunts and uncles, and now he won't get to see them. There's nothing I can do about it. Please pray for my baby.

Merry Christmas to everyone!! Don't forget to donate, it's never too late!!

What's the Worst thing about Doing Foster Care?

If Someone Asked, I'd Have to Say...

The thing is, there are things that get to you, wear you down, burn you out, but if you're doing it for the right reasons, there's not a whole lot I'd say I DON'T like about doing foster care. But there is one thing that, if I didn't have to deal with it, all the rest would be a party. You're wondering what that one thing is that is so awful? One of the social workers I used to work pretty closely with called it Livestock. That's a good word, because just the mention of it doesn't make you itch. Have you figured it out yet? LICE...Head Lice. It is by far the absolute worst part of doing foster care!!!!!!

I'm sure part of my problem is that I already have a real phobia about creepy crawlies, moths, even lady bugs. Butterflies are only beautiful from afar for me. Even birds are a little creepy to me. So the very thought of tiny little ickies all over your head just about make me vomit. We don't get it too often, but often enough that it's got me squirming. And it's near impossible to get rid of. The summer Annie was three, her birth mom finally decided to show up at some of the visits. The first time she did, she brought a brush from home and played with Annie's hair. All of a sudden Annie had lice. We spent the whole summer fighting it. Every time we'd just about get it under control, birth mom would bring in the brush again. We begged the case manager not to let her keep doing this, but it took several visits, like 3 months worth, to convince the case manager that that was where the Livestock was coming from. In the meantime, several other members in my house had to be treated...including ME!

EWWWWWWWWWW!!!!

Never in my life had I ever had livestock in my hair. Never in my life had I ever known anyone who had. It was disgusting. I wanted to shave my head!! Just the thought makes me itch. Since then we've only had two others come in with it. One was a little three year old girl we had for about six months a few years ago, and the other is the five year old we have now. Actually, this one didn't come in with it, she picked it up from her visit. That's the worst kind cuz even when you get rid of it finally, they just get it again the next time they see the family. I want to shave her head so we don't have the mess any more.

OK, writing about this is making me itch. If any of you know any good remedies for this that I haven't tried, let me know, please!! We've used NIX, RID, mayonnaise, olive oil, tea tree oil...I'd use Pennzoil if I thought it would help!!

Well, that was a nice holiday topic. Sorry, it's just on my mind. Hope I didn't creep you out as much as I creeped myself out. Now think of candy canes and gingerbread, and how you could help poor foster children have happy Christmas memories too...
Time for the spiel...give of your heart, give to the Giving Tree to help give foster children a wonderful Christmas! We really need your help!! Thank you for your support!

I'm Crying Because I'm Happy

Are you for Real?

OK, you see it in movies, and maybe I've seen one or two people in my life cry because they were happy, but you have to hear this. Last night was Cindy's school Christmas program. I had to work, so poor Granny had to take all the kids by herself. She asked Annie to be a big girl and be a help with all the little kids, and auto response Annie said her usual, "OK." But while they were there, she was fidgety, she was loud, she was whiny, she took off running in the lobby. She was actually the worst one of the bunch for my mom last night. When they got home, instead of getting ready for bed and minding, she stood in the middle of her room and nagged at each of the other girls as the came in. Then, 5-year-old made a face and "nah-nah-nah" at her and she started screaming. Yes, screaming, no exaggeration. This get so hard to take some times!

So I'm in there, having another calm-voiced, one-sided conversation about why are we doing this again. I tell her, "5-year-old doesn't care about any of us, she's only here a short while, and you know this, but you take it so personally when she does this. Yet, we are your family and love you more than anyone else could and you give us nothing but grief. In a few weeks you'll be 8, but tonight you acted out worse than the 2, 3, 4, & 5 year olds. What's going on, why can't we improve the behaviour instead of it always being the same?" (Word of a frustrated, ready to tear her hair out mom.) Annie starts crying. "Why are you crying? You're not even in trouble, I just want to know why the behaviour never changes." "I"m happy! I'm crying because I'm happy." I was floored. What do I do with that? She said it always made her so happy to hear me say how much I love her. Somebody help me, I don't get it. I said, if you're so happy that we love you so much, why can't you give some of it back by having better behaviour? Shoulder shrug...typical. Somebody tell me again why I chose to parent kids with problems, sometimes I just need to hear that I'm doing the right thing here.

Moving on...I told you we would get another one before Christmas. You notice above I made mention of a 4 year old. She came to us last week. She's so cute and sweet, and needs so much. She's the same size as 3-year-old. You can't understand a word she says. She's mostly potty trained, but not entirely. I think I already love her. I need to call the school district and get her and 5-year-old evaluated, see if they qualify for the special pre-school cuz neither of them will be ready for kindergarten next year, and they are both supposed to be starting.

OK, time for the spiel...give of your heart, give to the Giving Tree to help give foster children a wonderful Christmas! We really need your help!! Thank you for your support!

Politically Correct Gone Too Far...

What Kind of Rice????

OK, I have to tell you this story. I was lying on the sofa last week recovering from surgery (none too well) and listening to the dinner conversation going on in the next room. I hadn't laughed much all week because I'd been pretty sick. (I had some complications after surgery.) The family was having lasagna (2-year-old's favorite, he could eat his weight in it!) and 17-year-old said, "Granny, you know what sounds good?" "What?" "Mexican lasagna." This is a little dish my mom sort of made up one night when we were trying to think of something to eat, inexpensive, but different...and NOT hot dogs and mac & cheese! It's kind of just a flat taco casserole, but using flour tortillas rather than corn. But it's pretty good, and the kids love it. So I was sitting there, thinking, ya, that might be good in a few days when I'm more on the mend.

Then Cindy pipes in. Now, I have to tell you, she sometimes says very odd things, inappropriate things, things out of the blue that don't pertain...but this time it was just funny! She said, "YA, and some HISPANIC rice." I couldn't help it, I just started laughing, then she said, "well, and some English rice too." I could hear my mom trying not to laugh at her, but Annie lost it. My mom finally said, "You mean Spanish rice and white rice?" Poor Cindy, she was only trying to be racially sensitive. You gotta love 10-year-olds!



So anyway, I got a staph infection after my surgery, so I spent most of last week still down rather than building myself back up to be ready for work this week. My first day back was surprisingly exhausting, but today was better. Luckily, I only work this week and next, and then we are closed fora week and a half. (Plus, I work Monday through Thursday, so I still get my 3-day weekends each week til then!) I should be doing fine by the holidays when everyone is here.

OH GUESS WHAT!!!!!

We heard from Kneesaa last night, and they are moving back to Idaho!! I'm so happy, and now I can watch my grandson grow up! I guess both Kneesaa and her husband finally figured out that they are unhappy on the East Coast and will be moving back in February! I'm so glad. It's hard to be a controlling mother and doting Ya Ya (Greek for grandma) when the people you want to control and dote on live thousands of miles away!! :-) Besides, I'm just not comfortable having the people I love so much live so far away. And this is all about me you know!!



OK, I'll leave you now. Remember, the foster kids are counting on your donations to give them a wonderful Christmas! Donate to my site today and all the money will go to the Giving Tree!!