Tag Archives: foster parent

The Truth About Mother’s Day

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Now that the fanfare’s over, let’s be honest. Mother’s Day can lightstock_82211_max_user_637824be hard for a lot of people for a lot of different reasons.

At breakfast Raine asked if I thought her birth mother was sad when she lost her. “I’m sure she was sad,” I answered. “Losing a child is very sad.”

“Do you think she cried?” was the next question. No doubt she did. She may even have been crying yesterday.

There are so many others who mourn on Mother’s Day – women who haven’t been able to have biological children. A friend in my teen years was adopted. Occasionally his mom and I would sit down for a cup of tea. I’ll never forget the day she broke down crying. She was completely devoted to her four adopted children. But there was still a sting that she hadn’t been able to give birth to them herself. Then there are women who have never obtained the title of mother in any form.

I read a post about one woman’s church asking moms to stand on Sunday. Flowers were given out in celebration of Mother’s Day. The past few years my church has given a donation to a charity caring for women in lieu of gifts on Mother’s Day. But when there were gifts, they went to all women over 18yrs. I remember the years of longing before I became a mom. I can imagine the sadness of being singled out on an already difficult day.

Then there’s the reality that, for some, there isn’t much to celebrate about their mothers. The truth is parents fail. Some in small ways, but others do so completely. Being a foster parent, I know this all too well. Not only do some parents fail to provide the love and security needed while their children grow up, they also fail to provide an example worth replicating. So, when grown, who do you turn to for advice? Who do you imitate as you raise your own kids? Besides being nothing like your parents, how do you know you’re doing a good job?

If your mom’s failed in big ways, a day celebrating her might just be too much. That’s the truth.

So if you know of someone in any of these situations, maybe next year ask them or the Lord how you can ease the pain of Mother’s Day. As glorious as it is for many, the day falls short of happy for more people than you realize. This year, for the first time, we were able to move past the pain and enjoy being a family. Praying for you if that wasn’t the case. Praying the God of all comfort will wrap you in His arms. Let Him reveal to you, the truth that you are loved.

Our Table is Full

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If you’ve been keeping up with my saga – you’re aware that I began fostering with a private agency 6yrs ago. This past summer I decided to try working directly for the local children’s aid. That didn’t pan out. The experience confirmed I’m no good at short term relationships. I’m a long haul kind of person.

So now I’m officially back with the private agency. Generally, sadly, the children in our agency aren’t going anywhere. They won’t be returning to birth family nor are they likely to be adopted – for a wide variety of reasons.

It may be a while before any new children join our home. However, I am back doing relief for my friend. (With the private agency foster parents have a weekend off every 6wks. The kids go to another foster home during that time. This is called relief.) Although we’ve seen my friend’s three girls regularly it’s been 9mths since they’ve been able to sleep over.

Raine and Athena are thrilled to have them here this weekend. Even after a lengthy separation, they settled in without any issues. It’s wonderful to have them here again. Once more our table and home are full – along with all of our hearts.

ready for dinner

ready for dinner

Why Wonderfully Unusual?

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Wonderfully unusual pretty much sums up my life. The unusual is pretty obvious. I intentionally pursued motherhood as a single Christian woman. A good portion of my friends are single Christian moms. Not one of them intended to be, it’s just how things turned out. Marriage has yet to come about in my life. Still I knew God called me to be a mother. So that’s what I became. Adoption burned on my heart since childhood, but first I became a foster mom. Then went through the process of adopting. My daughters came to me 3yrs ago as foster children. Now they’re mine forever. Everything about becoming a mom – foster/adoptive – has been unusual.

I began with a nearly 13yr old. Sabrina* had been in foster care since the age of 5. I wasn’t her first foster mom but I was her last. This past summer she turned 18 and is now forging her way as an adult. Starting off parenting a teen with fetal alcohol syndrome and intellectual limitations is unusual. And it certainly was a unique experience.

The adoption hasn’t been typical either. I had to fight to keep my little ones. Their social worker was sure they’d be better off with a married couple unable to have children of their own. In no way am I opposed to infertility being a factor in people deciding to adopt. Nor am I against couples adopting. I’m all for that. But after having my girls for 1 ½ years I knew they should stay with me. A formal hearing confirmed that was the best option.

That’s not how most foster care adoption stories go. Usually a social worker calls to say, “We have a child that might be for you.” Then you hear all about them, you make a decision, you see pictures, you fall in love, and meet. Then after a month or so of visiting you take your child home. With the arrival of a letter by courier it was decreed that I would get to parent Raine & Athena forever. Not what I was expecting when I started my adoption homestudy. For some reason I thought it would be somewhat typical.

Wonderful is where we’re at now. It was a rocky start with Raine. The adoption didn’t sit well with her. That and beginning school caused her to unravel to a certain extent. Homeschooling, cutting wheat out of her diet, and some herbal anxiety medication has gotten us back on track. She’s still somewhat tightly wound, but that’s just who she is. The place we find ourselves at now is by no means perfect. But I’d venture to say it is wonderful. Through an amazing turn of events, I’m able to be a stay at home mom. My kids are my primary focus – though I am working on another dream as well (www.believebistro.com).

So, to sum up our life: it’s wonderfully unusual. Hence the new title of my blog.

Thanks for stopping by. Come back tomorrow to find out why I shouldn’t blog and cook at the same time.

*name changed

The Games We Play

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Lately my girls have been playing “I’m a New Foster Kid”. The game goes like this: one of them pretends to be a foster child who has just arrived at our home. The other shows them around and explains our life. This past weekend it was Raine’s turn to be “our special guest” (which is how I refer to the foster children who come to us). She decided to call herself Kara. Most of the game was spent correcting Athena who was forever calling her Kiera. During dinner on Saturday, Raine – pretending to be Kara – said, “When I go to my grandma’s tomorrow, I won’t be coming back. I’m going to live there. That’s what happens with some foster kids.”

“You can play that in the game,” I permitted. “But in real life you’re living here.”

“I know,” she answered. “I’m not a foster child.”

This declaration is a small miracle. It’s taken time for Raine to see herself as adopted and a permanent resident here. There are still times she threatens to leave, but most often she’s happy to stay. Never again will Raine or Athena be a new foster child in someone’s home. That is a really big miracle.

in families

Now That was Fun

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As you may have detected in my last post, I was rather nervous about this weekend. In addition to my own girls – 6&4 – I had three foster children coming – aged 6, 5, and 2. March break was a flop with a rather difficult 3yr old visiting while his foster mom was away. The reports described him as much less challenging than he really was.

Thankfully in this case the opposite was true. Night terrors, difficulty sleeping, and aggressive behaviours were all listed. But these little ones really surprised me. They were well mannered and easy going – except for the 2yr old. He was a bit of a handful. Mainly the struggles stemmed from the fact that he hardly speaks. He’s a bright little boy who understands everything going on around him. Slowly he’s learning to articulate his thoughts and desires. Often he’d get frustrated with me and the kids because we didn’t understand his small gestures and sounds. In many ways I was reminded of the initial struggles with Elise*. She arrived in a similar state.

Sloane* connected well with the 6yr old boy. They dressed up in superheroIMG_20140322_093836 costumes – something Sloane had requested for Christmas. Elise and the 5yr old girl dressed as butterflies and hosted tea parties. It was a beautiful time.

I even managed to disconnect the dishwasher Sunday morning trying to discover the reason why it wasn’t draining properly. Doing all I could to solve the problem, I left it and got myself and all the children ready in time for church. This brought an amazing sense of accomplishment. However, we discovered the 6yr old’s boots hadn’t dried from being outside yesterday.

Scrounging through my reserves – seems somehow I have every shoe and clothing size imaginable – all I could come up with was a pair of white high tops with pink and gold accents. Though I do have an incredible array of clothing 80% of it is girls. Since he couldn’t be persuaded to wear the sneakers, we didn’t go to church.

The children left happy, asking to return soon. Sadly it’s unlikely we’ll cross paths again. Despite the threat of night terrors, we made it through two nights with only a minor incident. At 3am Sunday morning, the 5yr old girl, quietly crying, came into my room. “The wind is bothering me,” she said. The trees along the exterior wall of her room can be quite boisterous as they scrape along the siding. She decided to switch beds and went right back to sleep. I even managed to shower both mornings.

After that success, I’m feeling a bit more in the swing of things as a foster mom. I’m surprisingly refreshed after that busy weekend.

*name changed