Tag Archives: foster parent

Not Staying

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Yesterday 9yr old Flora* and 7yr old Marcus* returned to their mother. It was expected. A few weeks ago in court, the judge made it clear he’d be ruling this way at the hearing on March 18. The social workers were surprised by this. As far as they could see there was good reason to keep the children in foster care. As far as I could see there was good reason. However the judge disagreed.

“It’s too bad,” my social worker said. “The kids have a really good situation here with you. More than likely they’ll be back in a short while. But you’re can’t wait around for that.”

It’s true, I can’t. There are some children over the years I’ve waited for. As much as I liked these two, I can’t wait for them to return to foster care.

Our time together was just short of 6 weeks. That seems to be my limit. All three of the placements I’ve had with Children’s Aid have been 6 weeks. Strange. Every other local foster parent I encounter averages 1 year. Not me. So far it’s been short and not so sweet. With the expectation of returning to birth parents or going to other family members looming over the kids heads it’s hard to make a connection.

Flora’s parting words offered me a bit of comfort. “I wish I could live with you and my mom because I really like being her.”

Our brief time together wasn’t always pleasant. I found myself getting frustrated with the mounds of garbage they left around the house. Marcus’s toileting issues wore on me. Flora often wanted to bake with me, but sometimes I wanted to be left alone. It wasn’t my finest moments as a foster parent. Don’t think I didn’t try at all. I did. I organized a lovely birthday party for Flora. I listened to all of Marcus’ jokes. We read books together when my own girls were in bed. I took good care of them. It just wasn’t a great time for any of us. They wanted to be with their mom. And she kept telling them that was going to happen – very soon. Before that announcement, they were settling in. Flora even told her teacher I was going to adopt her. Marcus kept talking about all the fun we’d have in summer. Staying wasn’t a bad thing when there were no other options. When going back to mom became the plan, staying became very unappealing. So we all just hung on until yesterday’s court date.

Since their departure I’ve rearranged all three children’s rooms. That’s what I do. I rearrange the furniture as I put my life back together. We’re back to our little family of 3 for a few days. Friday we’re expecting 3 visitors for the weekend. In addition to my 6yr old and 4yr old girls, I will have a 6yr old boy, 5yr old girl, and 2yr old boy. They’ll just be with us until Sunday while their foster parents go on vacation.

The house is not quite ready for our next adventure so I have no pictures.

I wasn’t able to get any non-identifying photos of Flora & Marcus, so not pictures.

I’ll leave it all to your imagination. Mine is currently running wild as I think of the upcoming weekend. It’s sure to be an adventure.

*name changed

Not What I Expected

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Tonight I asked 6yr old Sloane* to sweep the kitchen. It’s a chore she’s been dreaming of since she arrived three years ago. But actually doing it

spunky Sloane

spunky Sloane

didn’t hold her interest for long. After running upstairs to deal with another situation, I came down to find only half the room done. Sloane had moved on to something else.

I called her back and said, “You only swept half the kitchen.”

“Yeah,” she answered, “I didn’t know what you were expecting.”

“I was expecting it all to be done.”

“Well, that’s not what I was planning on.”

This exchange sums up my life in ways I can’t begin to explain. As mentioned in my last post (March Madness), we had a 3yr old foster boy with us for the past ten days. The social worker and his foster mom described him as very shy and withdrawn. I worried how he’d fare in my boisterous household. Turns out he was anything but quiet. He dominated the atmosphere of our home. In a negative way he changed everything. For the first time I was at a loss. I had no idea how to curb all the behaviours. Most importantly – for me – I had no idea how to get him to sleep. He simply wouldn’t most nights. His foster mom said bedtime was easy. It was not so for me.

We muddled through then something shifted on Thursday. After another difficult visit with a foster mom friend, things got better. A comment she made changed my perspective. “He’s too young to have that scary look.” There were moments the look in his eyes struck terror in both of us. It was frightening.

I must admit I’m not always objective. Once I had a 13yr old pregnant foster child staying with me. Doing her laundry I was at first appalled by the lacy lingerie. Then I remembered, someone had bought this for her. Probably it was her mother who obviously wasn’t doing a very good job watching over her.

With everything thrown at foster parents sometimes you, or at least I, forget the kids are the victims. They didn’t choose this. Eric*, the visiting 3yr old, didn’t invite that level of anger into his heart. Someone else put it there. So I started praying it off. His temper tantrums became less prevalent. Joy began overtaking him. There were still trials – especially when we went to visit another friend of mine. Like Sloane, social settings seem to be a challenge for Eric.

In our final days together, he followed me around saying, “What are you doing mom?” I’d tell him and he’d chatter away. Apparently he doesn’t talk much at his regular foster home. “Every once in a while he’ll sing and I love hearing it because he’s happy,” the foster mom said when dropping him off. He sang, laughed, and smiled lots. In the end he was very happy.

Nothing about him was what I expected. But, in my case, life rarely is what I expected.

those eyes

those eyes

He left a few hours ago. I kind of miss him. Maybe we could have made more progress had we been together longer. I don’t know. But at least, in the midst of all the anger and chaos, I found his heart. Praying as he’s loved and cared for at his regular foster home, Eric continues to move past the inherited anger fighting to keep him. Praying he finds the courage to love.

*name changed