Something Happened Today.

I got a phone call from the caseworker that put all things into perspective. Obviously, without divulging any facts of the case, these kids may be leaving a heck of a lot sooner than was expected. And it kind of made me sad.

Believe me, I was just as shocked as you.

But first let me put my feelings into words. It comes as no surprise to anyone familiar with this blog that I wouldn't mind these kids leaving. My first sadness is for the kids. I am sad that they may just be shipped off somewhere else. That they may be doing this all over again. That it may just be another foster home to add to the list. Because they don't deserve this. No child deserves this kind of crap.

And I'm sad that they have a sucky family.

My third sadness is for myself. I went from being busy with work, to being really busy with work and kids, to being busy with kids. And now it seems I'm headed for nothingness. Which is awkward, and lazy, and wasteful. And I'm not quite sure how I'm going to handle going from wanting to rip my hair out from all the noise, to wanting to rip my hair out from all the quiet.

Another sadness is that I feel like I've put in so much effort in teaching values and morals and goals, just to see it might go to waste. Save for college, save for college! What if wherever they go next, their new role model doesn't much care about saving for college? Or doing homework. Or being home on time. Or washing your hands. I feel like I need to be in on the interview process or something.

Simply put, I didn't realize until today that I generally care for the welfare of these children. Yes, I may not feel like I can make them a part of my family permanently, but I've got my fingers crossed for their future. They are good kids. And they really can do great things, I'm sure of it. I just pray that they can find the support that they need to succeed.

Finale

After turning in my notice 10 weeks ago, I walked out of the office for the last time. And I was sad. I've never been one for work. You can see past posts here and here and here about how I really feel about a career life. But as I walked out of the best job that I have ever had, I wondered to myself, is this really what I wanted?

I quit my job to be a stay-at-home foster mom. Well if you've been keep up on your reading, then you'll know that this foster mom thing isn't necessarily a dream come true. So quitting my nearly perfect job to become full time at a not so perfect job is, well, much less than perfect. But I didn't really have a choice when working full time just wasn't working for me. (Props to all you moms who work at all, I have no idea how you do it and still take care of a home and kids.)

But I can't help feeling the pressure suddenly lifted. I've been spending so much of my home time working that when I'm at home and not working, I feel guilty. The curse of working from home. But it's impossible to be a full time employee when you can't really go into the office because you have three kids in school (one of which is in half-day Kindergarten) and simply, when your heart just isn't into it.

My biggest fear is what is it that my heart is into these days? Besides my super hot husband of course. I don't want to be at work, yet I seem to not want to be a mother. So I'm not quite sure where my heart is. Or my head for that matter. By the way, it's super fun to be 28 years old and still have no clue what you are doing with your life. *sarcasm*

Unattached

Nine months ago I was sitting in the required training classes to become a licensed foster parent. I specifically remember sitting in the class on attachment. Our instructor spoke about how so many foster parents are afraid to become attached, because they know that one day, their foster children may leave them. In turn, leaving them with a broken heart. But we were reminded, once again, that opening ourselves up to these children will be what is best for them. If you become attached to your foster kids, you will be able to provide a love for them that is necessary for proper development. Attach, attach, attach! is what she was saying.

And I remember sitting there thinking to myself, of course I will become attached! It would be nearly impossible for me to not be able to become attached! I love children! And the thoughts went on and on. And yes, I really truly did believe every single one of them.

Well, it didn't happen.

And these kids! Oh these kids. They can be particularly adorable and entertaining. And truly, for being in the foster care system, they do extremely well. They misbehave as most kids do, but not at the level which many foster children do.

There is a cluster page on Facebook that I am a part of that is for local foster families. And I have seen countless posts about how much love they have for their foster kids. Like when they do overnights with biological parents how sad they are and how much they miss their foster child! Or how their foster child is going to be reunified with their biological family and how they are heart broken. And I don't discount any of their emotions. But I just don't have those feelings. Like this weekend when the weekend visitation that the kids normally have with relatives was canceled. That's when I wanted to cry.

My mom says to me all the time, don't you think the kids can sense that your not attached to them?

I hope not. I really hope not. And Mike and I really do try to hide that fact.

But what I learned is that attachment cannot be forced. Just because I have a love for children in general, does not mean that every child that comes into my home will be the recipient of that love. And it makes me sound awful and cold-hearted, but love cannot be forced. I tried. I really did. But I am just not attached to these kids.

And one day, if parental rights were ever terminated and these children were placed for adoption, I would not be able to adopt them. That alone is heart-breaking. But I don't think it would be hard at all to find a family that would be better suited for them. Because they really are good kids.

I have never, in all my foster care blog reading, come across posts quite like mine. Most foster parents love foster care and would go to the ends of the earth for their foster children. But I can't lie. And I promised I would share my experience. And not all days are bad. But most days I go to bed exhausted with tears in my eyes asking myself what in the world I was thinking.

Youth

My 28th birthday was celebrated a few weeks ago. And there were no candles on my cake. Which, I declare, is the first time I can remember not blowing out candles and not making a wish that doesn't come true. I guess I've reached the age of maturity. But what I find most interesting is that I really didn't have the desire. Blowing out candles is one of my favorite birthday traditions. But it seems to me that my youthfulness went, along with my 27th year. Sometimes the child inside will come out, but it's rare, and it seems that it takes a lot more effort to sustain her. 

I do wonder if my youthful self went when the children came. Did they steal my her? Is it because there is so much child running around this house that my youthful self went into hiding? Maybe she is gone for good. I don't really like myself as a parent. Did I ever tell you that? I am not the person that I thought I would be. You never really know until you try. And I tried. And I continue to try. You know how *they* say that by the time you become empty nested you kind of have to learn how to just be a couple again? Because you have kids for so long, that you kind of forget how to be yourself? I hate that. I don't want to lose myself. That girl that I was before the children came, I kind of liked her. She was a whole heck of a lot less stressed. And a whole lot more easy going. 

I've talked before about the weekend visitations that our foster kids get with their relatives. So for four days of the week, I am a mom, and the other three days of the week I'm me. I'm beyond grateful for the break, but maybe perhaps my mind is confused. Who am I? Am I a mom? Sometimes. I've noticed that this schedule can also create confusion with the children. How we behave and act at my house is completely different than how they are allowed to behave when staying with relatives. So every couple of days, these three children are also forced to change behaviors. 

I think what frightens me most is that the only reason I feel like I am able to handle the four days with the kids is because I've had three days without them. Which is a luxury. As I've said before, most foster situations are not like ours. Not mentioning when you have your own, it's a forever gig.  

I just thought it would get easier. And it's not. Praise the heavens above that summer break is over in a week. 

Biological Folk

Here's the thing about biological parents.

In the beginning, when we originally decided to become foster parents, I thought I had my mind made up about them. You know, the whole, you should never have become a parent because you suck at it and got your children taken away attitude.

Then I went through the training classes, and our fantastic instructor was able to alter my thoughts and prejudgments. Biological parents are simply people who have made some mistakes, and its partially our duty as foster parents to help them fix those mistakes so that they can get their children back.

Okay, so now I'm a foster parent. Which means I now have the knowledge that I need to make my own decision regarding biological parents (or at least the ones I currently deal with). So what do I think? Well, they kinda suck. Which is sad and terrifying because their children think the world of them (well mostly, the older children seem to have a quite a few biases against one of the parents). One of the parents had reached out saying they wanted to have a visitation. This parent has yet to have had one in the two months that the children have been in foster care. All this parent needed to do was to call and confirm with the caseworker. That's it. And this parent didn't. So now after telling them all week they have a visitation today, I now get to tell them that they don't. Because apparently making a simple phone call was too much for the children that you gave life. Biological parent, you were the one that reached out. Perhaps you should keep your promises and maybe your older children wouldn't hate you (the word isn't mine, the kids were the ones that said it). The other biological parent used to have visits and currently does not. And I may be evil for saying it, but I'm glad. It's so hard to watch the kids go to these visits where they are showered with toys, and treats, and the near worship that goes on when you know what a loser their parent is. As much as I want the kids to be with their parents and families, it is so disappointing to know that they may turn out to be just like them.

Yes, my influence of a few months may do some good, but if foster care has taught me anything, the number one thing I have learned is that you can't undo years of bad habits. In the end, these kids don't want to be here, and their old ways are how they can hold onto their family and their home.

So kids.

Here's the thing. They can be pretty annoying. It's hard to remember that they are not, nor should they be, on the same maturity level as you. And why do they ask so many questions? Especially during movies. They have to know what is going to happen before it happens. What happened to the element of surprise? My 5 year old today asked me probably 3,000 times what we were having for dinner. Hamburgers. We are barbecuing hamburgers. Over and over again. She saw me prepare the meat. She was with me when I purchased the buns. And about 10 minutes before dinner she asks if we are having hot dogs. So I replied "Yes", because why not? I tell her a million times that we are having hamburgers, which apparently I couldn't convince her of, but I tell her one time that we are having hot dogs and she runs around the house telling her brothers that we are having hot dogs. Which thoroughly confused them because they had previously inquired about dinner and they knew that we were having hamburgers. So that's how dinner went.

The kids are already begging to go back to their relatives for visitation for the weekend. We really are only allowed one night visitations, but last weekend, we were able to get two, which is confusing to kids because now they expect to spend every Friday thru Sunday with their extended family. The caseworker approved a two night visitation for this weekend also, which is awesome for us, however, there is always the fear of the relatives suddenly having plans that don't include my three kids. Which would just simply devastate all of us.

And the boys are folding origami together right now and not fighting. So this is a miracle. 

And this is the voice of a foster mom on a Wednesday night, who has thoughts, but has a hard time compiling them. 

Visitations

Most of the time, I am thinking to myself what in the heck was I thinking? It's hard. Very hard. My 10 and 9 year old boys make me want to walk out on the entire experience. When they aren't fighting with each other, they are pushing Mike and I to our very limits. The 5 year old is great when she's alone, but when her brothers get home from school she suddenly takes on their personalities and I sometimes feel like I'm in a constant war between the hours of 3:25pm and 9:00pm. 

My saving grace?

Weekend visitations. 

We are lucky enough to have the kids do overnights with their extended family on the weekends. And this weekend they got Friday and Saturday night! Nearly three full days of being on our own agenda. I know that many foster families don't get the opportunity to have overnight visitation as much as we do, and I definitely know that the Lord was looking out for me on this one, because he knew that to keep a small portion of my sanity, I would need those weekend visitations. (The behaviors when they return from visitations is a different story for a different day.)

This weekend we fished, we shopped, we attended the temple, we ate all you can eat pizza, we watched Gravity, we went to church and we spent time with family. Hopefully regenerating us for another week. 

Becoming First Time Foster Parents

On Thursday, April 24, I woke up with a feeling we'd get a phone call. I think when you are waiting to become a foster parent, everyday you think you will get a phone call, but I really did think that we would. My mom says I must be in tune, because that afternoon, we got a phone call to do respite care for the weekend. Respite care is basically overnight babysitting for another foster family. We were expecting a 6, 5 and 3 year old to come and stay with us from Friday to Sunday while the foster parents went out of town. My heart pounded. I decided to take the next day off. We were definitely not prepared to bring three kids into our home, even if it was only for the weekend.

I woke up early Friday so I could get everything done and be ready to receive the kids around 2:00 that afternoon. Around 9 AM that morning, Mike called me from work.

"You'll never guess who just called me", he said.

And that was the moment my life changed forever. On the day that we were supposed to be receiving three children just for a few days, we got a phone call for our first placement. Three children. They said that if we chose to accept the placement we would be receiving them that very afternoon, and they would take care of finding someone else to do the respite care for the other foster family. Shock wouldn't even begin to describe how I felt. How is it possible that in less than 24 hours, all that had happened? Mike told me about the kids and we discussed how we felt. I began what later became almost an entire week of tears. We decided that we would take the kids. Mike made the necessary phone calls and I immediately fell to my knees in tears. How was I going to actually take care of three kids? Was I really ready for my life to change? I prayed and prayed for strength and then, of course, I called my mother. Because who else knows better than my mother? She listened to me cry. Offered her advice and assistance. And she immediately became a huge source of knowledge that I never knew I needed. She sympathized, but also questioned my emotions. "Abby, you've had 6 months to prepare for this, why are you so upset?" And what I realized was I was never ready. Nothing can ever prepare you to be a foster parent. Nothing can prepare you for the immediate 180 degree shift in your life. Nothing can prepare you to take care of children that have experienced such chaos in their life. And I was terrified.

When I got off the phone with my mom, I went into robot mode. The kids that were being place in our home were 10, 9 and 5, which is a whole lot different than the 6, 5 and 3 year old that I had originally been preparing for. We were expecting them to come around 4 in the afternoon, so I had plenty of time to get everything in order. Mike came home from work early and we put the final touches on the bedrooms. And around 4 PM, we got a phone call telling us that there had been a change in court that afternoon and now we would not be receiving the children until Monday afternoon. And since they had already made the switch for respite care, we would not be having any kids in our house over the weekend.

Most would be disappointed, but I was so relieved. Most foster parents don't get the opportunity to have the weekend to prepare, whether its mentally or emotionally or physically. I was able to have a few days to spend preparing myself and spending childless time with Mike because come Monday, I would be a full time mom.

On Monday afternoon, two caseworkers, and two boys and their sister knocked on our door. I feel like things after that moment are a blur. We went to Wal-Mart to pick up a few necessary items for the children and I made tacos for dinner. I do recall the children going to bed fairly easily, which was a surprise. But that next morning, as Mike was leaving for work, I became an emotional mess. I hugged and cried and begged him not to go. What was I going to do without him? I don't know how to be a mom. And my dear sweet husband started crying along with me and I realized that I'm not in this alone. Take it a day at a time. It was the longest week and one day of my life before we could get the two boys enrolled in school. Which just reminds me that my school district is year round, which means 3 weeks off every 9 weeks. Crap.

Every night and every morning that week I cried. The longer I am a foster mom to these children, the more I realize what those emotions are about. Which is a post entirely on its own.

The difficult part about having a blog is that I am usually brutally honest with myself and everyone who reads. As I have said before, many things in the foster care system may not be shared, and the things that I do share, unfortunately, I think most people may not like. My opinions are all my own (and my husbands, of course) and even though my journey is not conventional, I'm discovering things about myself that I never would have known otherwise. As I continue to express my feelings in the future, please be sensitive to the fact that I am a person, and that if I cannot be honest in this space, I see no reason to even continue to write.

If You Follow Me On Instagram....

....you would know, that last Monday, we had our very first placement. I wish that I had had time to write about it in the moment. When all the emotions were so prevalent. But now I sit here, on a Saturday night, with a 10 year old on my couch, a 9 year old on the floor, and a 5 year old running around flipping the light switches. This has absolutely been one of the most difficult weeks of my life. Becoming a mother as quickly as I did, I did not know how to prepare. What I have learned is that there is no preparing. When you don't know the ages, genders, or personalities of the children coming into your home, you just have to hold your breath and hope that you're ready. And I'm learning. 

I'm learning how to be a mom. I'm learning how to take deep breaths and count to 10. I'm learning that my relationship with my husband is absolutely one of the most important things in my life. I'm learning that it's a whole lot harder to keep my diet on track when there are three kids around (and it's not even overeating, I just don't eat when I'm so busy taking care of their needs....pathetic). I'm learning that sometimes, you just have to do things yourself. Never rely on the system. 

I'm just learning. 

When I get another moment, I will write about the placement and all the emotions that went along with that day. But for now, it's off to bath time, and story time, and probably a song or two, and then the sweet moment when the house is quiet, and I'm able to lay my head down next to Mike and maybe shed a tear or share a laugh at the reflection of another crazy day of being a foster parent.  

7 Years

Happy Anniversary to the person that makes me the happiest. 

The one that I love more than I ever thought possible.

My very best friend. 

So glad we will be together for all eternity. 

I love you.