Category Archives: parenting

What I Accomplisehd Today

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Forgive me for posting again so soon.

As a stay at home mom, most nights I go to bed feeling like I’ve accomplished absolutely nothing. For everything I did do, there are twenty things I didn’t get to.

Today, I decided to make a list of all I did. I’ve also included a few snap shots of the thoughts running through my mind and some of the action going on around me. You don’t have to read it all. But making it the list did help me feel marginally more accomplished than I do most days.

Today I:

Got up (long after the alarm went off)

Picked out clothes for two kids (picked out the other two last night)

Showered

Dressed

Got one kid into the shower

Dealt with Sloane’s rude attitude towards her sister

Got breakfast for four kids

Made lunches for three kids

Brewed coffee

Got four kids out the door

Dropped four kids off at school

Came home with one kid (have been driving the neighbor girl in addition to my three who are at school)

Made marinade for tomorrow’s roast

Drank coffee

Ate breakfast while formatting a bi-monthly newsletter I send out for a local minister

Checked facebook

Checked to be sure I had paid the natural gas bill (which I had)

Worked through two early reader books with Sloane

Put in a load of laundry

Encouraged Sloane to take down streamers from foster child’s birthday on Monday (she was super eager since it involved lots of climbing  and problem solving)

Put away two loads of laundry from the other day while facebook chatting with a friend. We brainstormed about marketing our small businesses.

Watched two videos on parenting adopted children while putting laundry away and facebook chatting

Started another load of laundry

Encouraged Sloane to finish with the streamers (She insists upon putting them into a tiny candy machine and carrying that over to the garbage. This is taking forever!)

Made a raw chocolate mint pie

Made gluten free banana muffins

Start some organic bread in the bread maker

Made lunch for Sloane (gluten free toast with homemade organic peanut butter)

Loaded the dishwasher

Got Sloane started on some math work

Put in another load of laundry

Worked on rhyming words with Sloane

Put some laundry away – discover one of the foster children peed the bed last night (feel like a failure for not noticing sooner. Really, what have I been up to?)

Strip foster children’s beds. Bring sheets to the basement to be washed (may not have mentioned I live in a two story house with a basement laundry room)

Edit a friend’s first blog post.

Suddenly feel incredibly overwhelmed and in need of a bath (not something I usually indulge in)

Work with Sloane to tidy up her school work and colouring items left out from days past (sometimes I hurry the kids off to bed instead of making them clean up)

Watch some profile videos from an adoption funding program in the US. Contemplate the ridiculous cost of international adoption. Remember my sister saying years ago, “These countries should cover all the costs. In the end it will save them tons of money.” I consider the long term cost of children in orphanages who grow up to be struggling adults.

Take dough out of bread maker. Shape it into a dozen buns and one loaf of bread. Set it to rise.

Announce that I will have a bath.

Sloane decides she will not watch a movie after all. She’s been talking about doing so all afternoon. Now that I’m going to be doing something, she decides she won’t go to her room (which is the spot for movies)

I check on the rising bread and buns.

I run a bath and decide to finally give Downton Abbey a chance. People who know me are absolutely shocked that I’ve not seen it yet. I’m expected to be an avid fan.

Sloane goes to her room with much fanfare. After some choice words, she looses the “privilege” of watching a movie. She screams for her window to be shut (I’d been airing the rooms on this first nice day. Did I put that on the list? Sometime this morning I opened most of the windows.)

I shut Sloane’s window with a reminder that there’s a proper way to speak to me.

I check on the bath. It’s nearly ready.

Sloane screams for her window to be opened again.

I close and lock the bathroom door.

By the time I turn the water off and get situated – with my computer perched nearby so I can watch Downton Abbey – Sloane is happily playing in her room.

I think of all the things I should be doing: dishes, vacuuming, mopping floors, organizing my room, organizing the basement, working on my coffee/tea business, working on my income tax for last year, shopping at Ikea because the coupon I have expires this week.

I remember why I don’t bother taking baths. It’s not relaxing in the least.

I continue messaging a friend about her new blog. We discuss names.

I get out of the bath and hastily dress.

Summon Sloane out of her room.

Put the buns and bread in the oven.

Get out the door to pick up kids from school.

Remember the volunteer driver coming for the foster children (taking them to birth mom’s to celebrate a birthday) will likely be there a moment or two before we turn.

I go back inside, write a note, pin it to the door. It blows away. I secure it better.

Drive to the school. Park in the adjacent church parking lot.

Run across the field in pouring rain. Sloane decides with my glasses getting wet, I can’t see properly. She tries to guide me.

The bell rings. I locate the foster children.

I can’t find my own child. The neighbor girl usually brings her out. They’re nowhere to be found.

I herd the other children toward the car. Flora* worries the driver will leave without them if we’re not back soon.

Sloane ignores my instructions to leave the snow alone. She doesn’t have gloves. Her hands are freezing. I try to get her to walk with me. She resists and falls backwards into a pile of slush.

I don’t have time for this. I can’t find Elise*.

Putting the foster children in the car, I head back towards the school. There I discover the neighbor girl went home sick. Elise is waiting by the door with her teacher.

We trudge back across the field. Sloane again starts picking up snow. Again I try to take her hand. Again she makes a big scene. I talk to her. She refuses to comply. I pick her up. She kicks and screams. I put her down. She throws some snow at me. I pick her up again.

Eventually we make it to the car.

I calm Flora’s fears and assure her I really am trying my best to go quickly. I buckle Elise.

We drive home. The volunteer driver is in our driveway.

I park on the street. I get the foster kids out of the car. Three times I tell Flora to go get the bag with her birthday outfit from the house. Finally she understands me. (Although we went over this plan endlessly last night, before school, and on our short drive home she’s still unclear.)

I greet the driver, explain where Flora’s headed, get Marcus* into the driver’s car.
When Flora emerges from the house, I get her into the car.

They drive away. I pull into my driveway.

I get Elise and Sloane out of the car.

In the house, I get the bread out of the oven.

I talk with my daughters while they eat some fruit.

I serve up raw mint chocolate pie.

Sloane spits out the first bite. She wants to try more. I insist she doesn’t because I don’t want anymore spit all over the place.

Elise makes a mess of her pie – insisting she likes it but not taking a single bite.

I eat some pie. I check emails and facebook posts. I continue chatting with the friend I’ve been in contact with all day. We discuss her employment prospects.

I announce we will go out for dinner.

Elise and Sloane announce they must change from track pants into dresses. They bring down an assortment of their fanciest. I try to explain where we’re going – a local independent, diner. They go upstairs and come down with another assortment of formal wear.

Eventually I get them appropriately dressed.

My friend I’ve been chatting with suggests we go for dinner with her.

We drive to her nearby town.

We have dinner. Sloane is less than well behaved. She’s angry I won’t let her have pop.

I discuss who I can possibly get to watch my kids when I go to California for a week in May (need to do some training for my volunteer position at the church)

Elise drinks ketchup from her plate with a straw. Somehow I miss this at first.

I pay and discussing with Sloane how long the waitress we had has been working there (the woman mentioned she was new). Elise wipes the specials off the white board beside us.

We drive my friend home.

I drive home. Elise tells me repeatedly she hopes the volunteer driver drops the foster kids off before we get there. I assure her that won’t happen, but then start to panic. What if they come back early?

I stop to get the mail.

We go home. Elise and Sloane decide not to come out of the car. After several giving several rational reasons for them to, I go to the front door alone. Reluctantly they follow.

While they get their pjs on I make the foster children’s beds with their sheets fresh from the dryer (obviously went to the basement to get them).

I brush Sloane & Elise’s teeth. I put them to bed. I hug and kiss them. I make sure they know they’re loved.

I start doing dishes.

The foster children return. I hear about all the fun they had at their mom’s. I assure them I’m very happy and interested in everything they have to say.

When they’re done, I send them to put on their pjs.

I wash a few more dishes.

I got upstairs to get the foster kids to bed – no hugs or kisses, seems a little soon when they’ve only been with me a week. But I make sure they know they’re cared for and wanted. (Not that I want to keep them from their parents, or rejoice in the calamities that brought them into foster care – but you know what I mean and so do the kids)

While washing the rest of the dishes I watch a short video from someone in the Ukraine. I realize I should find out what’s going on there. I wonder how the political unrest will affect adoptions that are underway. I worry about children languishing in orphanages. I wonder if my life of fostering and raising my two adopted daughters is really enough. There’s so much more I could be doing. Maybe I should move to the Ukraine. I tidy the kitchen.

I decide that’s enough for today. I’m ok with the fact that the floor isn’t swept. I’m going upstairs so I don’t have to look at it.

I write this lengthy, useless blog. I post it. I watch a bit more of Downton Abbey. I eat some more raw mint chocolate pie. I hope it’s healthy.

I go to bed.

Tomorrow I get to do it all again.

*name changed

 

Wonder

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Canada's Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir THE CANADIAN PRESS/Paul Chiasson

Canada’s Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir THE CANADIAN PRESS/Paul Chiasson

Recently when out for lunch Sloane* was a little too exuberant. At a local pub, she saw figure skating for the first time. As an athlete was thrown in the air by her partner Sloane shouted with delight. Not far from us sat a couple with two children – probably 6 & 8. The kids turned to glare at my girl. You see, they were that new breed of eerily silent children. I don’t think they made a single sound all through lunch. Every time Sloane did their heads whipped around in shock and disgust.

“Silence!” their wordless looks shouted at my little girl.

It’s true – she’s loud. There are times I wish she’d come with a volume button. But I don’t want to silence the joy. Despite her challenges, Sloane still manages to find joy in the everyday.

Really the feats accomplished in figure skating are pretty impressive. So much so that seeing them for the first time is a definite reason to gasp and shout with joy.

Don’t let those stares stop you. Keep on finding wonder wherever you can my precious daughter.

*name changed

24 hours

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I have a big mouth – in that, I bite off more than most people can chew. That’s why I ended up with two babies overnight. First I was asked to take a 1mth old. Of course I said yes. The next day I was asked to take the 8mth old at the same home. The foster parents were going away overnight.

“You have two cribs, right?” the social worker asked.

Technically, I have three. My social worker dislikes two (for some reason she’s not a fan of Ikea). But I know they meet all the necessary requirements. So I said, “Yes, I can take both babies.”

Saturday at 1pm until Sunday at 1pm is when I had them. It may have been the longest 24hrs of my life. The foster mom hasn’t yet found a formula that agrees with the little one. She send along something new that had him fussing all night. In between night feedings, I tried to put him down. But that resulted in loud wails that woke his 8mth old roommate.

At 4am I was juggling feeding two babies. The older one really wasn’t due for a bottle. But it was 4am. After a 20min nap at 7pm, he’d been up until nearly 10pm. I was not ready start the day. I fed him a bottle and put him to bed. Thankfully, he fell back asleep and didn’t wake again until 7:30am. That’s a much better hour for me.

However, the littlest one didn’t get much rest that night. Nor did I. My inherent mother’s guilt was in full force on Sunday. The 8mth old was fussy. The 1mth old was fussy. Who do I pick up? Have I been favouring the younger over the older? Is this going to scar them for life? Am I planting seeds of rejection? The 8mth old looks at me longingly from his play mat on the floor but I decided to feed the 1mth old instead because he’s spit up his last two bottles.

Then there’s my own girls clamoring for attention. I’m counting the hours until bed. Sure, if this were daily life I’d adjust. I might even have fun. But instead it was 24hrs I muddled through. And after it all, I still wouldn’t mind a baby or two of my own. By that I mean foster babies somewhat permanently in my home.

But no calls yet.

my 4yr old hanging out in one of the baby chairs

my 4yr old hanging out in one of the baby chairs

Breaking Through

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The One who breaks open the way will go up before them;
they will break through the gate and go out.
Their King will pass through before them,
the Lord at their head.   Micah 2:13

In January my pastor names the year for our congregation. 2013 focused on the Lord of the breakthrough depicted in Micah 2:13. As encouraged by this past Sunday’s message I’m taking a moment to reflect on the breakthroughs this past year.

January 2013 – received adoption finalization from the court. The adoption worker was quite tardy in filing the paperwork. The expected date was March or April 2013. But when the court received the file it flew through the necessary chains.

February 2013 – I met with Sloane* & Elise’s* birth mom. She blessed me beyond belief. At a second meeting, Sloane saw her one last time and received a blessing to move forward (see We Belong Together).

August 2013 – After a message at church reminding us of this year’s theme, I went home to hear Mike Bickle’s call to fasting for breakthrough. I wholeheartedly support fasting but have never exerted much effort in the area. It was high time I did. There were so many things requiring breakthrough in my life. When Sabrina* turned 18 in July I left the private fostering agency to work directly with Children’s Aid (see Ready? Set? Go!). The change came with a significant pay cut which is fine because I’ve never been in it for the money. After several weeks of waiting there were no calls. I fasted not to force the hand of God, but to better hear Him by clearing away the clutter in my own life.

The fast didn’t bring the marked breakthrough I was hoping. In it came a gentle nudge towards homeschooling for Sloane.

September 2013 – Elise began Junior Kindergarten at the public school down the street. Sloane stayed home with me for Senior Kindergarten (see Back to School). Since starting school the previously year, Sloane gradually stopped using the toilet. Come December 2012 she was back in diapers/pull ups all the time. Had the adoption been finalized in September, I would have pulled her out of school. But it wasn’t. So we muddled through. I tried everything. Nothing worked. Being home in the summer didn’t make a difference. But a few weeks into September she was back on track with toileting! It sounds like a small thing, but it was really big. Her anger and defiance was driving a wedge between us.

Homeschooling Sloane has helped us establish a deeper bond. Things really derailed when the adoption

Putting my curlers in her hair, "so I can look like momma!"

Putting my curlers in her hair, “so I can look like momma!”

got underway. It’s been a trying time with and for Sloane. But we’re coming through. Being home together has brought a huge breakthrough. She is becoming secure in our connection.

November 2013 – Sloane is discovered to already be a Canadian citizen!!!!! There were many delays caused by the adoption worker in securing Sloane’s citizenship. Born in the US to American parents, Sloane required citizenship in Canada where we reside. March 2013 I found out the adoption worker had done nothing despite having repeatedly told me the process was nearly complete. At that point it looked like it would be well over 3 years before completion. I was furious. Contact with the immigration lawyer was “graciously turned over” to me by the adoption worker’s supervisor. I remained frustrated. Despite having legal custody of my daughter, I couldn’t leave the country with her. There have been many technical difficulties in this adoption. The immigration is the best example. I started working directly with the lawyer. More complications arose. More time past. I grew weary in waiting. The 3 year process wouldn’t begin until the paperwork was accepted by the government. When it finally was, the reply came: Sloane is already a Canadian citizen. A name change needs to be completed, but it shouldn’t take long – certainly not 3 years!

Like me, Sloane is passionate about traveling. Neither of us like limitations. In this area the Lord has certainly broken open a way!

December 2013 – Despite significant gains in emotional health and, as a result, behviour Sloane still struggled with huge amounts of anger (see My Legs are Tired, These Days). After seeing a minor display, my mom recommended meeting with a friend of hers for some prayer. The result has been thrilling. Sloane’s guard is down and she’s enjoying life for the first time. This is the most significant breakthrough of all – the answer to a great many prayers.

It would be unrealistic to think that we might come into a season of life where breakthrough means it’s all rainbows and gum drops and there’s not a problem at all. I don’t think that is possible…one of the keys to our advancing in God is learning what a previous generation would have called “counting your blessings”…There’s something about what we carry with us that prophesies to where we’re going. ~ Matt Tapley (from the message, Preserving Breakthrough)

This year has not been all rainbows and gum drops. But the Lord has been breaking through. In the midst of my failures and shortcomings, He is faithful. That’s what I’m taking with me into this new year.

* name changed

The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.  1 Thessalonians 5:24

Counting my blessings….naming them one by one…….

Sloane (photo courtesy of Shannon Guiler)

Sloane* (photo courtesy of Shannon Guiler)

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Elise* (photo courtesy of Shannon Guiler)

Love is Important

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One of the reasons I left the private agency I was fostering for was the hope of easier children. Some days Sloane* is fun enough for this single mom. It was nearly three weeks before I got a call after the boys left (see From 2 to 4 and The End). A message was left while I picked Elise* up from school. By the time I called back the 3yr old boy had been placed elsewhere. “Just as well,” I thought, still hoping for a tiny baby before Christmas.

The next day the same worker called to say, “It’s not going to work where we put him. Would you still be interested?” The initial report was: his speech is delayed and he’s not toilet trained. The current foster mom complained he hadn’t slept that first night, refused to talk though is able to, and won’t keep his clothes on. It was his first night in a strange home, so I wasn’t too put off. I said yes. Later another call came to say he may be mildly autistic. Still I said yes.

Joseph* arrived Friday afternoon. If it’s autism he has, it’s certainly not mild. He’s happy, engaging, and affectionate. But seems to be in disconnected from the world. Communication is limited to single words repeated, sometimes connected to what’s going on or in his hand.

Sloane, who doesn’t get along with anyone, instantly fell for him. At dinner the first night, she said, “Love is important. And I love Joseph.” Three days in, her love continues to expand. She speaks kindly and quietly to him (a miracle in and of itself) and is consistently eager to help him. Elise isn’t feeling quite as warmly towards our new arrival. Mostly she stares asking, “What are you doing?” His actions confound her because they lack any logical sequence or explanation. Joseph responds to her with a smile.

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fast asleep with a teddy bear – one of my greatest triumphs thus far

The first night bedtime was a struggle. He cried and quickly jumped out of bed when I put him in. While bathing the girls I let him play in his room with the door closed. Tonight when I told him to go upstairs after dinner, he happily hurried into his bed. Pretending to be asleep I hated to explain it was bath time not bed yet. I still have to stay in his room, encouraging him to remain in bed for him to fall asleep. Thus far it’s been about 20mins, which gives me time to check emails and write this blog. Asleep by 8pm and awake by 6:30am has been the pattern. Once asleep, he sleeps right through the night. This morning he even remained in his room until I came to get him after my shower (the rule for everyone in my household). I’m incredibly happy with the sleep component.

During the day he amuses himself, playing and climbing onto to my lap. A trip to Superstore (since he came with nothing) was challenging. I put him in the cart, but he recognized a multitude of yummy treats. Joseph screamed and grabbed for cookies and sugary snacks as I whizzed past them. Again I have an oversized child. The size 4 plaid shirt I bought him for church couldn’t be buttoned this morning.

Church, like the shirt, wasn’t a good fit. Everything went well until a teachers arrived with a muffin in a McDonald’s bag. Joseph really wanted the bag and whatever was in it. Concerned about allergies, the teacher didn’t give it to him. He became increasingly inconsolable. I was called to help. The problem is I have no idea what to do. He hardly knows me. Even a piece of the desired muffin didn’t pull him out of the state he was in. When I tried to pick him up things got worse. Finally I calmed him enough to leave. The teachers were very gracious, encouraging me to have him stay when settled. I worried about another melt down later  and didn’t want to be stuck trying to get him through a crowed foyer. If at all possible, I avoid causing a scene. I gathered Sloane and Elise from their class. Joseph wept when I suggested he put his coat on. He continued in the parking lot and the car. Five minutes out of the parking lot, he was ok. Back home he was great the rest of the day. Hopefully with time (and if there are no McDonald’s bags) Joseph will settle into the routine of church.

Inside I keep screaming, “I think I have an autistic child!” This is not the easy I was looking for. Sloane getting along with Joseph eases the strain. He’s really happy at home.  The fact is, he needs to live somewhere right now. Why not here?

*name changed