When I Get Married….

“When I get married it will be to a guy who does all the work,” Athena

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6yr old Athena dreaming of her wedding day

recently announced. “I’ll just sleep all day long. I’ll never leave my bed. He’ll have to bring me food. And I’ll have kids so they can unload the dishwasher.”

Clearing her dishes after meals and unloading the clean dishes from the dishwasher are a few of the chores Athena must do. Evidentally, she doesn’t really enjoy the tasks.

Raine quickly reminded her that the kids would be babies for a while. “They won’t even be able to do it until they’re like 4.”

“That’s fine,” Athena replied. “My husband will do it until then. He’ll do everything – the cooking, cleaning, all the stuff. And I’ll do nothing.”

My comments did not cause her to amend this dream. Considering Athena is a bundle of energy and hates being alone even for a few minutes, I seriously doubt she’ll live in this ridiculous manner. So, parents, there’s really no need to worry if she does, eventually, catch your son’s eye. I have at least another 15 years to get her ready for a proper relationship. Really, there’s no need to worry yet.

 

We are Not at War

“We are not at war,” is something I find myself saying quite often. It was my 9yr old foster child who introduced the concept. She was sent to her room for being very disrespectful to me one day. With a history of explosive behaviour, it’s best to have her in the safety of her room when this sort of anger starts to bubble up.

In her room, we talked about why she was upset. Her response to being removed from the game she was playing with the other kids was, “Now you’re going to pay. You’ve blocked me from doing what I want so I’ll block you from doing things.”

“That’s not how it works. I’m the parent and you’re the child. There are consequences to how you behave because it’s my job to teach you the right way to interact with people,” was my explanation.

J disagreed, informing me, “We’re at war. You do something to me and then I do something worse to you.”

“We are not at war,” I assured her. “We’re not enemies. We’re really on the same side. We’re both trying to make your life as wonderful as it can be.” The truth is, being a child in foster care who has suffered a great deal of trauma, there is a limit on just how wonderful things can be. J is often overwhelmed by emotions that are far from wonderful. But there’s still the possibility of carving out a degree of wonderful in the midst of what she’s going through. There’s always that possibility for each of us.

“No,” she argued. “We’re not on the same side. We’re at war.”

“I am not your enemy,” I answered. But in the moment, we certainly seemed to be on opposing sides. I was struggling to pull her out of the darkness wanting to overtake her. J was adamantly opposing my efforts. In truth, we are not at war. We are not enemies. Yet so often I find myself in the midst of a battle zone as I fight against fear and insecurity. It arises in the children; it comes out in me. There’s a fear in loving, in being together. That’s what we’re fighting against. But we are not warring against each other.

Raine was quick to pick up J’s philosophy. And my new mantra has become, we are not at war. We are not warring against each other as J and Raine suggest when they find my correction unwelcomed and, as far as they can see, unnecessary. It’s not something to put on a plaque but something I say more than you can imagine – like when Raine is sure she needs to put on underwear from the dirty clothes bin when it’s time to go to church. We’re all on the same side and we’re all fighting against the things that seek to derail us. As I say it, taking a deep breath, I remind myself we’re not enemies. We’re working together on something wonderful.

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Remember My Love

Four years ago, I knit Raine a hat for Easter. She’d arrived, a boisterous 3yr old, a few weeks

Easter 2011

Easter 2011

before the holiday. I had a dress that I picked up from Target in the US months before I knew Raine. Sometimes I would do that – buy potentially useless items because the longing for a couple little ones wouldn’t leave me. In fact, at that point, I bought two dresses one a size 4 the other size 2. They were in a box in my room along with some other clothing someone had given me in those two sizes. Even with a generous monthly clothing allowance for the foster children in my care, I found myself preparing for what might be.

I pulled the size 4 dress out of the box and some shoes I’d bought ages ago for a friend’s foster child who spent most weekends with me. In the end that little one returned to her birth mother. And I kept the shoes in my growing stash of things for a girl between 2-4yrs.

Raine was mildly impressed with the hat I made. She wore it on Easter and many days afterwards. Over the years, the hat has become one of her prized possessions. Somehow, it’s grown with her. This Easter, being incredibly chilly, she grabbed it to wear to church on Good Friday.

It was deeply significant to Raine that, in addition to the dress I made and the necklace her sister made, she had the hat from her first Easter with me. Being who she is, Raine told nearly everyone she came into contact with.

Easter 2015

Easter 2015

“Somehow the hat keeps growing with her,” I explained. It truly fit perfectly when I made it four years ago. And it fits perfectly now.

“She remembers and that makes it special,” said the church’s pre-school director, a former foster parent. He’s witnessed Raine’s growth from a defiant 3yr old into someone more at peace.

There are many days I fail as a parent. But these reminders of my love remain – growing with Raine.