Tag Archives: foster care

Progress Report

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It’s been 20 days since my home opened with the local Children’s Aid. In all that time, I’ve not had one phone call. At first it was awkward being alone with my girls. Since they came to me as foster children over two years ago, there have always been other kids in the home. When I adopted them there were a few weekends when the foster children in the home were away. But we all knew they’d be back soon.

At first Sloane*, Elise*, and I waited on the edge of our seats for new foster children. But, as time’s gone on, we’ve settled into a rhythm of our own. With Sabrina* (the now 18yr old foster child who was with me 5yrs) gone some of Sloane’s hostility has lifted. Life has become manageable and enjoyable. There are still challenges and frustrations. Yet we’re coming together as a family. Immediately after Sabrina’s departure I began taking Sloane to a therapist. I was bracing myself for the worst. Overall Sloane’s coping well with the loss. She feels it – which is a good thing, a sign of healthy attachment – but it’s not crippling her.

With all my “free time” (only having my own two kids) I’ve turned my hall closet into a pantry and rearranged the kitchen.

closet turned pantry

closet turned pantry

We’ve been to the beach, raspberry picking, and to St Jacob’s market. I’m keeping up with laundry and all the little things Sabrina used to look after (in order to prepare her for adulthood). I’ve had lots of time to think about why I adopted and the life I want to create for my kids.

This time has been refreshing. I’ve been able to reorganize the house and my own thoughts. But, hopefully, the season soon changes and new foster children join us.

*name changed

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Elise at the beach

 

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Sloane with horse and bonnet from St Jacob’s

Ready? Set? Go!

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June 27, 2008 I began my career as a foster parent. Over the past 5yrs, with a private agency, I’ve had a total of 8 children come to me. The first, Sabrina*, has been with me since day one. For the past two years I’ve had the same 4 children in my care – two, Sloane* and Elise*, I managed to adopt. With Sabrina turning 18 and moving forward in life, now seemed like the time to change directions. I’m still fostering, but with the local Children’s Aid instead of the private agency.

Megan* never did recover from her trip across the border . Things continued to deteriorate, which made my decision somewhat easier. June 28, 2013 Megan moved to another foster home within the private agency. Since then Sabrina’s been a bundle of nerves, knowing her turn is coming. Years before I knew her, Sabrina was diagnosed with Attachment Disorder – which means heartfelt relationships are generally beyond her capacity. The amount of stress and tears she’s shedding is a testimony that I did somehow land in her guarded heart. However the hours Sabrina spends screaming that she hates me and wishes we’d never met doesn’t leave me warm and fuzzy. This is how she copes with the impending loss – trying to quench her emotions with hate.

So, in the midst of all this emotional upheaval, I’ve painted two bathrooms and two bedrooms (one somewhat voluntarily, the other because a weekend visitor trashed it….maybe more on that in a future post). I’ve rearranged my living room. I’ve built a wooden walkway in my front garden. I’ve bought two cribs (hopefully to be used in about 6mths time). Furniture and pictures have shifted from one floor to another. This is how I deal with loss. I decorate. I try to make it all beautiful. I change my surroundings so the absence of an individual isn’t as predominant because everything around me is different. That chair you used to sit in is no longer there, so maybe I won’t notice that you’re not here. Grief, loss, trauma. These are the hallmarks of my career.

And now, today, I start anew with another agency and a fresh batch of kids. I’m listed as being available for up to 3 girls between the ages of 6 and 12. In working directly with Children’s Aid there’s more uncertainty about how long the kids will stay (the private agency tended to have long term/permanent situations). So I may get to redecorate soon – but, depending on the turn over rate, might need to find a new coping strategy.

Here are the rooms as of this morning, my first official day with Children’s Aid…..praying for the little ones soon filling them!

ready for two

room for two

 

 

room for one

room for one

 

 

*name changed

A Lesson in Lying

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Truth seems to be an unfathomable concept for foster children. Sloane* has been with me over 2yrs (now no longer a foster child but adopted). Despite my best efforts she still doesn’t get it. Partially it’s the age – she turned 5 in February – but mostly it’s something else.

I’ve started playing a “game” Truth or Lie? with all of the kids. I will make a statement, for example: “Sloane has blue eyes”, they will answer: “truth” if it’s true “lie” if it’s a lie. This has been working great with 3yr old Elise*. She’s quick to blame everything on Sloane. When I ask, “Who coloured on the wall?” her answer is “Not me! Sloane did it!” There such conviction in her eyes, I believe her. Then I say, “Truth or lie? Elise coloured on the wall.” She hangs her head and replies, “Truth.”

Our lives have been fixated on truth or lie lately. It’s come to light 17yr old Sabrina* has been lying about a lot of things for a very long time. I’ve had suspicions but no proof. When I asked her response was so sincere I believed her. Her deeds may not seem that bad – she’s had an ipod for nearly 2yrs, stole my internet password, has been texting boys at all hours (telling me she’s doing things like folding laundry in her room). When caught, Sabrina’s response was, “You won’t let me date so I had to lie.” It’s not that I’m opposed to dating. But after some shocking revelations when Sabrina first began high school, I did ban it for her until she was willing to be honest about her actions so I could mentor/guide her. Unfortunately Sabrina’s approach to dating includes a large degree of secrecy. She’s never gotten to the point where she wants to be honest. I suppose banning it made no difference. Were she allowed she’d still lie and keep it a secret.

Anyways, some things have come to light. I’ve been unraveling Sabrina’s web of lies. We’ve been playing Truth or Lie? all the live long day which makes working a rail road seem incredibly appealing (for those unaware, there’s a children’s song that goes, “I’ve been working on the rail road all the live long day”). But instead of the back breaking work of railroad building, I’m here making Sabrina cry when I tell her she’s filled our house with lies and grown a spirit of deception in our family. It’s been an intense week.

Yesterday as Sloane returns from school, she’s excitedly shouting, “Look what I found! It’s a real bird’s nest!” That’s exactly what it looks like in her precious little hands. I let out a shriek. “Get that out of her!” I scream, chasing her down the hallway. Angrily, she dumps it out the front door.

Instantly I’m sorry for overreacting. My explanation of why I don’t want her touching birds’ nests is cut short. “It’s not a real bird’s nest,” Sloane says with distain. “I made it at school. We have things to make nests with there.”

“Oh my Lord!” I exclaim in all sincerity. Honestly, how can I teach her the value of truth? At a  loss I refuse to let the manufactured birds’ nest in the house since she lied about it being a real birds’ nest. It remains a few feet from the front door.

Let that be a lesson to you, children.

Sloane's birds' nest

Sloane’s birds’ nest

Opportunity?

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After bathing the two little ones, I came down to see the three older girls applying my black nail polish to their fingers and toes. When questioned, Ainsley* was discovered to be the culprit.

“I thought she asked you,” Dana* insisted.

“Even if she did, you know your foster mom doesn’t like you wearing black nail polish.” All three of the girls are with me for the weekend only. Ainsley is a new addition but Dana and Natalie* are regulars. They know not to touch my nail polish. And they know their foster mom has forbidden black or bright red nails.

Ainsley, on the other hand, had a few things to learn. This was the second time she’d been with me. The first, last week, came unexpectedly when her foster mom called wanting to drop her off late one night. Things are falling apart in Ainsley’s world. She and her three older sisters have been in foster care nearly a year. It’s a complicated situation I lack the details of. I do know recently, surprisingly, all the criminal charges were dropped. The girls are set to return to their mom. Attempting some sort of continuity, Children’s Aid has decided to wait until the end of the school year. Ainsley is deeply torn between wanting to go home, because she loves her mom, and dreading it because she knows what it will be like. There were days without food. Times when no one cared for her. And likely so much more. Since finding out she’s going home, Ainsley’s been out of control at her foster home. I’m not sure what that looks like, but I know it resulted in her seasoned foster mom wanting to drop her off with me late one night.

Ainsley pouts at the kitchen table. I begin making the bedtime snack (a special treat of s’mores). Do I want to confront her on this? No – my evening will be much more enjoyable if I just let it go. If I do confront her will Ainsley have a melt down? Probably. Will I be able to manage that? I don’t know. Is it fair to lay down the law when she’s going through so much right now? No, but life really isn’t fair.

For foster kids parenting is like a patch work quilt. There are many influences molding these kids. Shirking my responsibility in this moment isn’t doing Ainsley any favours.

“As a guest in this home, you do not go into my cupboards and take things without asking,” I begin.

She shrugs and offers an excuse. She was in the cupboard looking for something else……not sure how that ended in applying my nail polish.

“Ainsley, as a foster child you will be in lots of different houses. Do not use or take things without asking. I’m telling you this to help you. I want things to go well for you here and anywhere else you go.”

She turns away, still pouting. Generally the children I encounter don’t know how to respond. I tend to tell them, in case they’re wondering.

“You need to say, ‘I’m sorry for taking your nail polish without asking. Next time I’ll ask if I want to use something.’”

Her back remains to me. While putting chocolate and marshmallows on graham wafers, I’m bracing myself for an onslaught of rage. This spirited little girl came into foster care with a tendency to steal. I don’t know if her birth mother addressed it. Certainly Ainsley’s foster mom has.
The screaming doesn’t come. Ainsley refuses to apologize. Silently tears stream pulling mascara down her cheeks (something else I’d warned her against earlier that day. Her older sisters tend to put makeup on her. I said, “Not at my house. You’re 8yrs old!”) Tears are a completely normal response and show some remorse! After five years of interacting with extremely volatile children I have to refrain from gathering Ainsley up in a great big hug. When she finally looks at me, Ainsley appears to understand. I pass out the s’mores. Everyone’s happy. Glad I took the opportunity to speak to her. Hoping it’s truth she’ll apply. Because really, taking things out of people’s cupboards isn’t going to endear her to anyone.

*name changed

my weekend tribe at the beach earlier that day

my weekend tribe at the beach earlier that day

Baby Birds

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bird's nest

bird’s nest

three eggs

three eggs

two babies

two babies

Misinformed robins built a nest on the railing of our deck. In early spring the skeleton vines had the potential to offer shelter. However, they were annuals I hadn’t cleared away yet. I’m sure the couple regretted their location once my children began occupying the backyard. Still three eggs appeared in the nest. We watched diligently waiting for them to hatch. One Saturday morning two babies appeared in the nest. That weekend three extra children were with me. They all came into foster care before the age of 3. Two are now 13, the other 9. They’ve been well cared for.

Panic spread through my troop of children when they spotted the baby birds. One of the 13yr olds was sure the robins couldn’t care for the babies. She quickly convinced the five other children. Having been disappointed by their own birth mothers, they believed the lie that these birds would abandon the babies. Despite my reassurance, they spent the entire day placing worms in the nest. A resounding cheer went up whenever the mother robin returned to the babies.

Mother issues? Turns out years of care doesn’t cure that. These kids have been raised in foster homes where the parents have biological children. That example hasn’t penetrated the lie that biological parents abandon their children. Maybe this is how foster care ends up being a generational pattern.

Praying the cycle stops with these girls. Praying their testimony will be:

We have escaped like a bird
    from the fowler’s snare;
the snare has been broken,
    and we have escaped.
 Our help is in the name of the Lord,
    the Maker of heaven and earth.

Psalm 124:7-8