But it isn't All as Bad as Some May Think...
I decided I needed to write something about the terrible stigma of foster care today. I was just reading an ad about protecting your children if something should ever happen to you, and it kept saying do this or else your children will end up in FOSTER CARE as if they would be guaranteed to be abused and neglected there, instead of being cared for and kept safe until a family member was found to take your children. I also watch all those Law & Order shows, CSI shows, you know. Quite often the theme seems to be about the abuse children receive once they are in foster care. On one of the shows, one of the police detectives made a comment something like, "I'll go talk to my friend, a survivor of foster care."
I realize where the stigma came from. I know that in the past, way back in the past if you must know, the foster care system was horrendous. Kids were abused, worked to death, kept "only for the money" by some. But that was then. The foster care system has come a long way in the last 30 years! Homes are monitored and regulated, foster parents have extensive background checks, yearly. Training, up front and ongoing, is required. We go to conferences, support groups, meetings, many of us are involved in the training of new foster parents. We have mentoring systems, and constant contact with the department, counselors, PSR workers, schools, doctors, and the birth family. I'm not saying some bad seeds don't slip through the cracks, but the vast majority of foster parents are good people trying to do good things for other people in our communities.
I can say I know this first hand because not only do I have constant contact with other foster families through conferences, and because I am a foster parent trainer, but because I contact each foster family in my region every year. I spend time talking to them and learning about the things their foster children do, enjoy, and want to do. For people to know the things I ask means they spend quality time with their kids, and care about them. You see, my mom and I organize and run the giving trees every year at Christmas to help foster families get gifts for their kids. But we don't just arbitrarily ask for toys and games, we ask for specific items the kids need and want. To do that, I have to spend a lot of time on the phone with our families. You might be surprised at the time everyone involved takes to make sure all our kids have good Christmas's and enjoy their holidays as much as they can given the fact that they aren't allowed to be with their birth families.
See, another misconception some people have of foster families is that they want to keep all the kids they take in. Don't take that the wrong way, we do love our kids, and we do want to keep them safe and cared for. But we work with the department and with the birth families, because our primary goal is to reunify kids with their birth families. I have relationships with almost all of my kids' birth families, and if I don't, it's only because it wouldn't be safe. I mentor birth parents when needed, and I share their children's lives with them until the kids can go home. And this is true of nearly all our foster families. The training curriculum we use in Idaho, and that is actually used in a large number of states across the US, requires that all foster parents be open to working with the birth families. It trains new foster parents on how we try to reunify before any other option is considered. And because foster parents have to go through 27 hours of this training before being licensed, it weeds out most people who would not conform to this type of foster parenting.
There's more I could say, but this post is getting too long. I'd be happy to answer questions or have a conversation with anyone who wants to know more about what I do. My biggest need to write this post, though, was to get across the idea that while yes, foster care is not an ideal way to raise children, it isn't necessarily the worst either. Foster parents don't do it for the money, they don't enslave the children, they don't abuse and neglect. The people you hear about who are so evil are the exception, not the rule. And you'll find those same exceptions in every aspect of life where you find children...in schools, daycares, clubs, sports...deranged people find ways to get through the cracks everywhere. But you don't hate all teachers or coaches because of it do you? Have good thoughts about foster parents because you probably already know several, and they just don't advertise that that's what they do.
Tune in again to read tales about the adventures from the Angel Retreat.
Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
"My Blankie is Crying Too!"
"I'm Sad At You"
It was a pretty typical morning at the Angel Retreat. We have at least four children in our home who were affected by drugs and alcohol exposure in the womb. (I say "at least" because there is one whom we don't have enough information about to know if she was exposed or not.) So on any given day, well, actually, every day, there are certain behaviours being displayed by at least one of these children. But sometimes, the things they say while having these behaviours are humorous, and I think being able to laugh at these things is what keeps us sane.
It makes me think of an episode we had with Annie earlier this year. Annie has a hard time with her closet. See, she and our 10-year-old share a room we originally had set up for 4 teenagers, and in this room we added on a fairly large walk-in closet. Sometimes I think the space is just too overwhelming for Annie. We keep hoping they'll place two more elementary age girls with us to share that room, but for now we have to live with Annie being lost in her closet. She used to be such a neat freak! Her room was always perfectly picked up, everything in its place, and she always made her bed. Now, she had trouble deciding what to wear in the morning, and so at least five items of clothing end up on the floor in her closet each day. And each afternoon, we have her go in and hang her clothes back up. So one day, I asked her to go put her clothes back on the hanger, and as happens spontaneously and unexpectedly several times a week, Annie went into a rage. For whatever reason, that day asking her to do something we ask her to do almost daily, triggered her tantrum mechanism. I walked away, as is usual. When she finally started to calm a little, 45 minutes later, I asked her to go hang her clothes up now. She stomped off, and I could hear her screaming and yelling at me in her closet from the living room. I continued to ignore. (Believe it or not, this is the best way to deal with her rage.) She came out 30 minutes later, stomping and full of attitude, and looked at me with pure hatred shooting from her eyes, and yelled, "I feel like a maid!" I have to say, it took everything I had not to burst out laughing right there. I calmly explained to her that a maid is someone who cleans up other people's stuff, not someone who cleans up their own stuff. She didn't get it, and went back to her room kicking and screaming.
So getting back to this morning. Will wanted to go play in the girls' room. Granny, being oh so practical, brought him back out explaining that the girls were getting dressed, so he couldn't be in there. Of course, this makes no sense to someone who doesn't understand hiding your naked body. He's 3...3-year-olds often parade around the house in nothing but socks. Right? Well, he does anyway. So he didn't care for Granny's actions. He screamed. What can I compare his screams to? Have you ever heard a rabbit or a guinea pig scream in fear? Think of the highest pitch you can still hear, turn the volume up to about 75, and consider how long it takes to get the air out of an inflatable floatation mattress. I may be exaggerating a little here, but don't kid yourself, I'm not exaggerating all that much. Granny tilts her head, gets that granny look on her face, and says in that soft, drawn out, "I love you, and want to slap you but am not going to because it's not the way we raise children anymore, so all I can do is say your name" voice, and says, "Willlllllllll..." As she turns to walk away, he throws his soccer ball at the back of her head. Don't worry, it was one of those soft squishy balls, so no concussion.
Now, I'm the only one who can see her face. If I was a kid, I'd be peeing my pants at that point seeing the color and set of her face. You should know, Will woke her up at 5:00 this morning and woke up the girls and wanted everyone to play. So she's already frazzled. I thought she was going to implode. She turned, and even he looked scared. (He usually thinks this is play time and laughs and runs.) She snatched him up, and before I could react, she strapped him in the booster chair from the table and pulled it to the middle of the kitchen and said, "You're in time out!" I thought that was pretty good self-control, considering her state of mind at that point...it was 7:30 am...
I had to leave for work. In my mind I said a prayer asking that God keep everyone safe today. As I was walking out the door, my mom was mumbling..."It's going to be a GREAT day!" Will was screaming..."I want my blankie...my blankie is sad...I'm crying...my blankie is crying too...I'm sad at you..." and so on.
That's right, at some point each morning, at least one of my lovable drug babies is in this state, and either my mom or I are nearing a breaking point...and it's those comments they wail at you that break your mood and make you laugh, even if they don't appreciate the humor. If they only knew...
Tune in again to read tales about the adventures from the Angel Retreat.
Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.
It was a pretty typical morning at the Angel Retreat. We have at least four children in our home who were affected by drugs and alcohol exposure in the womb. (I say "at least" because there is one whom we don't have enough information about to know if she was exposed or not.) So on any given day, well, actually, every day, there are certain behaviours being displayed by at least one of these children. But sometimes, the things they say while having these behaviours are humorous, and I think being able to laugh at these things is what keeps us sane.
It makes me think of an episode we had with Annie earlier this year. Annie has a hard time with her closet. See, she and our 10-year-old share a room we originally had set up for 4 teenagers, and in this room we added on a fairly large walk-in closet. Sometimes I think the space is just too overwhelming for Annie. We keep hoping they'll place two more elementary age girls with us to share that room, but for now we have to live with Annie being lost in her closet. She used to be such a neat freak! Her room was always perfectly picked up, everything in its place, and she always made her bed. Now, she had trouble deciding what to wear in the morning, and so at least five items of clothing end up on the floor in her closet each day. And each afternoon, we have her go in and hang her clothes back up. So one day, I asked her to go put her clothes back on the hanger, and as happens spontaneously and unexpectedly several times a week, Annie went into a rage. For whatever reason, that day asking her to do something we ask her to do almost daily, triggered her tantrum mechanism. I walked away, as is usual. When she finally started to calm a little, 45 minutes later, I asked her to go hang her clothes up now. She stomped off, and I could hear her screaming and yelling at me in her closet from the living room. I continued to ignore. (Believe it or not, this is the best way to deal with her rage.) She came out 30 minutes later, stomping and full of attitude, and looked at me with pure hatred shooting from her eyes, and yelled, "I feel like a maid!" I have to say, it took everything I had not to burst out laughing right there. I calmly explained to her that a maid is someone who cleans up other people's stuff, not someone who cleans up their own stuff. She didn't get it, and went back to her room kicking and screaming.
So getting back to this morning. Will wanted to go play in the girls' room. Granny, being oh so practical, brought him back out explaining that the girls were getting dressed, so he couldn't be in there. Of course, this makes no sense to someone who doesn't understand hiding your naked body. He's 3...3-year-olds often parade around the house in nothing but socks. Right? Well, he does anyway. So he didn't care for Granny's actions. He screamed. What can I compare his screams to? Have you ever heard a rabbit or a guinea pig scream in fear? Think of the highest pitch you can still hear, turn the volume up to about 75, and consider how long it takes to get the air out of an inflatable floatation mattress. I may be exaggerating a little here, but don't kid yourself, I'm not exaggerating all that much. Granny tilts her head, gets that granny look on her face, and says in that soft, drawn out, "I love you, and want to slap you but am not going to because it's not the way we raise children anymore, so all I can do is say your name" voice, and says, "Willlllllllll..." As she turns to walk away, he throws his soccer ball at the back of her head. Don't worry, it was one of those soft squishy balls, so no concussion.
Now, I'm the only one who can see her face. If I was a kid, I'd be peeing my pants at that point seeing the color and set of her face. You should know, Will woke her up at 5:00 this morning and woke up the girls and wanted everyone to play. So she's already frazzled. I thought she was going to implode. She turned, and even he looked scared. (He usually thinks this is play time and laughs and runs.) She snatched him up, and before I could react, she strapped him in the booster chair from the table and pulled it to the middle of the kitchen and said, "You're in time out!" I thought that was pretty good self-control, considering her state of mind at that point...it was 7:30 am...
I had to leave for work. In my mind I said a prayer asking that God keep everyone safe today. As I was walking out the door, my mom was mumbling..."It's going to be a GREAT day!" Will was screaming..."I want my blankie...my blankie is sad...I'm crying...my blankie is crying too...I'm sad at you..." and so on.
That's right, at some point each morning, at least one of my lovable drug babies is in this state, and either my mom or I are nearing a breaking point...and it's those comments they wail at you that break your mood and make you laugh, even if they don't appreciate the humor. If they only knew...
Tune in again to read tales about the adventures from the Angel Retreat.
Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Guess What Day it is!!!!!!!
Day 42!
That's right, tomorrow we can breathe again. This is the last day Annie's birth mom has to appeal the termination of her rights, and so far, no word!! 7 hours and counting!! I think we made it this time, though I will knock on wood for saying that!
I know I promised a discussion on my relationships with Lainie and Annie, but I'm putting that off. I'll get back to it. I'm too excited about Annie. Now, if only I could get moving on Will's adoption. Have I told you much about him? See, he's not actually in foster care, his mom obtained custody back a little over a year ago, but he's still been living with us. She finally realized she doesn't make a good mom because it takes more than love to raise a child, especially a meth baby. So she has asked me to adopt him, since I am the mom who has raised him. This is great, but I'm having one problem. I'm not getting the state adoption assistance like I would if he were a foster child, and so far, I'm on hold because I can't afford the homestudy update. It costs just as much to update your homestudy as it does to get a new one. I don't have $500 to spare. I applied for a grant from the National Adoption Foundation, but have never heard back from them. I really don't know what to do, at this point, I may have to put off his adoption for quite a while. If you've ever considered donating to someone on their blog, I could really use your donation right now! That's right, I'm no longer above asking for a handout! I'd like to get all this done, make things legal and permanent quickly so everyone can get on with their lives. The legal fees aren't as big an obstacle, the lawyer doesn't ask for payment up front. But this $500 homestudy fee has to be paid before they'll do the homestudy.
I hate that I'm not wealthy. Just think of all the good I could do for kids if I had money. Of course, if I had money, I'd probably spend it all on the kids so fast, I wouldn't be wealthy anymore! :-)
Now that I've gloated, cried, and begged, I thought I'd vent. Why not be one of those obnoxious people nobody likes to be stuck sitting next to on the plane? What do I have to vent about? This blog. I wanted a new look, something nice. I found a template, changed up a few things, added all my junk, you know, moved in, and published it. Well, after hours of frustration, I finally got the main post column up BESIDE the side bar, but now, the comments are down below the sidebar, and I can't figure out how to bring those up. I've been playing with it all morning. And one nice blogger, Bozette, suggested I resize the pics to fit the bars. I appreciate the comment, but I don't know what that means. HELP! I admit, I'm new and uneducated in the blogging world. I'm learning HTML as I go, and it's mostly guesses with a lot of trial and error. My other problem with this new layout is that the nice people who created it, made the title in the header a link, so it has to be the same color as the rest of the links on the page. This sucks, because the color I want it to be doesn't work for the links on the rest of the page. I don't know how to fix that either. I wish I could just create my own layout, cuz I have a nice idea for a better header, but don't know how to do it.
OK, I feel a little better. Do you think my plea for money will work? I've noticed a lot of people ask for donations on their blogs...does anyone ever get anything? Is this parallel to sitting on a corner with my dog and a cardboard sign stating "Will Work for Food"?
Tune in again to read tales about the adventures from the Angel Retreat.
Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.
That's right, tomorrow we can breathe again. This is the last day Annie's birth mom has to appeal the termination of her rights, and so far, no word!! 7 hours and counting!! I think we made it this time, though I will knock on wood for saying that!
I know I promised a discussion on my relationships with Lainie and Annie, but I'm putting that off. I'll get back to it. I'm too excited about Annie. Now, if only I could get moving on Will's adoption. Have I told you much about him? See, he's not actually in foster care, his mom obtained custody back a little over a year ago, but he's still been living with us. She finally realized she doesn't make a good mom because it takes more than love to raise a child, especially a meth baby. So she has asked me to adopt him, since I am the mom who has raised him. This is great, but I'm having one problem. I'm not getting the state adoption assistance like I would if he were a foster child, and so far, I'm on hold because I can't afford the homestudy update. It costs just as much to update your homestudy as it does to get a new one. I don't have $500 to spare. I applied for a grant from the National Adoption Foundation, but have never heard back from them. I really don't know what to do, at this point, I may have to put off his adoption for quite a while. If you've ever considered donating to someone on their blog, I could really use your donation right now! That's right, I'm no longer above asking for a handout! I'd like to get all this done, make things legal and permanent quickly so everyone can get on with their lives. The legal fees aren't as big an obstacle, the lawyer doesn't ask for payment up front. But this $500 homestudy fee has to be paid before they'll do the homestudy.
I hate that I'm not wealthy. Just think of all the good I could do for kids if I had money. Of course, if I had money, I'd probably spend it all on the kids so fast, I wouldn't be wealthy anymore! :-)
Now that I've gloated, cried, and begged, I thought I'd vent. Why not be one of those obnoxious people nobody likes to be stuck sitting next to on the plane? What do I have to vent about? This blog. I wanted a new look, something nice. I found a template, changed up a few things, added all my junk, you know, moved in, and published it. Well, after hours of frustration, I finally got the main post column up BESIDE the side bar, but now, the comments are down below the sidebar, and I can't figure out how to bring those up. I've been playing with it all morning. And one nice blogger, Bozette, suggested I resize the pics to fit the bars. I appreciate the comment, but I don't know what that means. HELP! I admit, I'm new and uneducated in the blogging world. I'm learning HTML as I go, and it's mostly guesses with a lot of trial and error. My other problem with this new layout is that the nice people who created it, made the title in the header a link, so it has to be the same color as the rest of the links on the page. This sucks, because the color I want it to be doesn't work for the links on the rest of the page. I don't know how to fix that either. I wish I could just create my own layout, cuz I have a nice idea for a better header, but don't know how to do it.
OK, I feel a little better. Do you think my plea for money will work? I've noticed a lot of people ask for donations on their blogs...does anyone ever get anything? Is this parallel to sitting on a corner with my dog and a cardboard sign stating "Will Work for Food"?
I'll talk to you again soon. Thanks for reading! I promise not to be so whiny next time.Will Blog for Adoption Fees!
Tune in again to read tales about the adventures from the Angel Retreat.
Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
New Look!!
What Do You Think?
I worked quite a while trying to get this to look different. Please let me know if it looks good or not. I saved my other template so I can put it back at any time. I'm a little anxious about this. I do have plans for an even better header, but I like this for now.
Thank you! :-)
Happy Halloween!!
Let's Look a Little Deeper
Explore the Relationships Part 2
Allee
When Allee moved in, as I have said, we all thought she would one day go back to the family who'd committed to adopting her. In the mean time, she'd spent time with us in respite care, and we'd grown to love her in a different way. It was almost like it was safer because nobody had any expectations of it being a long term parent-child relationship. I had fun with Allee, playing games and joking around. I felt an instant bond with her. We talked about anything and everything. She was more like one of my friends than a child I should be raising. I don't know if any of you out there have ever felt this way about a child...teenager...of your own. But as time went on, it became obvious she was never going back to the adoptive family. Their relationship was becoming more volatile, not getting better...and how could it get better? They weren't even in the same state. She and I became closer and closer. She started doing better in school, and we began working on getting her caught up. (She was a year behind.) I felt like this was the relationship I'd always longed for with a daughter. What I began to realize was that I loved her so much it almost hurt. I didn't want her to have another family, I wanted to be her family. But knowing the plan, I never expressed this idea. Until one day, she said it. She asked me to adopt her. She didn't want to leave, she felt at home for the first time in her life. I can't even tell you how excited I was. I called the case manager, and found everyone was on board with this. We'd all seen a change in Allee. She was less deceptive, less manipulative, she was settling in, and doing well in school. She'd been in foster care for 10 years, and nobody had ever seen her doing this well.
Just after her 17th birthday, I adopted her. We went through tough times, she resisted me, tested me, tried to get me to give up on her like everyone else had in her past. But I couldn't. I knew I could never let her go. There was something about her that I needed. Don't get me wrong, please. I didn't love her more than the others, I loved them all differently. I had just as strong a feeling of mother-daughter to Kneesaa, who I was also planning to adopt, it was just different. Allee was like an addiction. I needed to be her mother, and I needed her to want me to be her mother. And she was the same way. We needed each other. My relationship with her almost makes me shy off from new relationships with kids. You'll understand that more if you keep reading my story.
Allee is hard for me to talk about, so I'm done today. I'll come back tomorrow to talk about Lainie and Annie. Thanks for reading!
Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.
Allee
When Allee moved in, as I have said, we all thought she would one day go back to the family who'd committed to adopting her. In the mean time, she'd spent time with us in respite care, and we'd grown to love her in a different way. It was almost like it was safer because nobody had any expectations of it being a long term parent-child relationship. I had fun with Allee, playing games and joking around. I felt an instant bond with her. We talked about anything and everything. She was more like one of my friends than a child I should be raising. I don't know if any of you out there have ever felt this way about a child...teenager...of your own. But as time went on, it became obvious she was never going back to the adoptive family. Their relationship was becoming more volatile, not getting better...and how could it get better? They weren't even in the same state. She and I became closer and closer. She started doing better in school, and we began working on getting her caught up. (She was a year behind.) I felt like this was the relationship I'd always longed for with a daughter. What I began to realize was that I loved her so much it almost hurt. I didn't want her to have another family, I wanted to be her family. But knowing the plan, I never expressed this idea. Until one day, she said it. She asked me to adopt her. She didn't want to leave, she felt at home for the first time in her life. I can't even tell you how excited I was. I called the case manager, and found everyone was on board with this. We'd all seen a change in Allee. She was less deceptive, less manipulative, she was settling in, and doing well in school. She'd been in foster care for 10 years, and nobody had ever seen her doing this well.
Just after her 17th birthday, I adopted her. We went through tough times, she resisted me, tested me, tried to get me to give up on her like everyone else had in her past. But I couldn't. I knew I could never let her go. There was something about her that I needed. Don't get me wrong, please. I didn't love her more than the others, I loved them all differently. I had just as strong a feeling of mother-daughter to Kneesaa, who I was also planning to adopt, it was just different. Allee was like an addiction. I needed to be her mother, and I needed her to want me to be her mother. And she was the same way. We needed each other. My relationship with her almost makes me shy off from new relationships with kids. You'll understand that more if you keep reading my story.Allee is hard for me to talk about, so I'm done today. I'll come back tomorrow to talk about Lainie and Annie. Thanks for reading!
Tune in again to read tales about the adventures from the Angel Retreat.
Donations to fund the needs and activities for the angels who live with us are always welcome.
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