Foster Further

 I had the strangest experience today. In the hundreds of thousands of hours I've spent mulling over foster-adoptive relationships for the past two years, this was a novel thought that had never occurred to me before. We were in the car driving home after I'd picked up the three littlest ones from school. James did something small that did not annoy me one iota today, but which I distinctly remember made me extremely angry a few months ago. Like, lose-my-shit kind of angry. The kind of anger that, even in the moment, you're thinking: whoa, what the hell is THIS?  I remember yelling. I remember his face. I remember feeling terrible. The worst self-loathing that boils in my gut for hours. I also remember that it was one of the last time I got that angry. I can see now, reflecting on the changes over the past few months, that I was finally starting to come out of wherever I've been for the past two years. Why? Why was I so irrationally angry about a tiny typical little kid...

...an organized mind. Planning, finding patterns, predicting outcomes, maintaining focus long enough to follow through creatively--I am suddenly seeing mental skills I've never observed in Jane before. This week Jane began lining up her dolls when playing with them. She played school with them for the very first time in her life, ever.  In the sandbox area Jane has begun putting on tea parties. Each container (all identically holding mud, but some decorated with leaves while others have stones or twigs) is a different food. There are even condiments such as salt and paper and sprinkles. She does an elaborate explanation for me while inviting me to sit down and partake. It's so earnest and intentional and creative and REAL to her. She's enthralled. She began writing "storybooks" which consist of multiple pages with pictures and scribbled lines that she tells me are the words of her story. She tells me what she plans to write before she makes a book. Her stories hav...

Spring is really here. The sun is shining, flowers are blooming, my children are outside playing in the dirt every second of the day. I'm getting yard projects crossed off my list, we're having fires outside just because we don't want to come back in the house. Everyone is going to bed with sore muscles and clear minds. And Jane, like a shy flower, is blossoming at last! A few weeks ago she began earnestly "helping" around the house. It's only things that a 4-yr-old can do but she does it all on her own without prompting and is so deeply proud of herself that it's absolutely endearing. I hug her and kiss the top of her head and thank her genuinely. She beams. It's lovely. I love it when she has her own idea instead of copying someone else. I love it when she focuses and completes a task. I love having something to genuinely praise her for. The day she organized all the shoes on the porch into neat pairs nearly made me cry with happiness--finally, a...

In the adoption world the case is made that any birth family, even very poor families with limited education and resources, make a better home for a child than an adoptive, wealthy, educated family because love and heritage are more important than all that money can buy. Not denying that there's some truth to this. It's why we believe we should maintain connections with our girls' birth family to whatever extent is healthy for them. But it's not really true, either. During this shutdown due to the coronavirus I keep looking around at all we can provide for the girls even during times of, literally, societal breakdown. Even with schools shut down we can still comfortably feed our children. Our education level means we have the kinds of jobs that can be done remotely from home and we won't suffer the loss of paycheck. We are wealthy enough to have a disposable income. We comfortably bought an extra month's worth of groceries and purchased unbudgeted extras...

Yesterday was one of the worst days I've had since the girls came to us. For no apparent reason. Jane just decided to be really naughty all day long, about five minutes after she was released from each time out session. The past week we've been talking about anger, triggered by some incidents that occurred during her last therapy sessions. I had been telling her it's okay to show anger for a few days now. Well, she sure as hell took me up on the offer. Except not the way I meant it. I meant she should have a tantrum, yell, scream, even hit. Get it out! Express it! Be honest! Be real with me! Trust me enough to show a single authentic emotion already! Nope. She decided to do the most sneaky, underhanded, devious, manipulative, destructive things her little 4 year old brain could think of. I think she spent every minute of her time outs just planning what she'd do next. I was patient, calm, and creative in my consequences for the first two events. Then, she took Kat...

Two days ago the most potentially dangerous thing that's ever happened at our house occurred. Jane opened the gate to the goat pen and let them out so they had access to where the three little kids were playing unsupervised (I was inside making dinner). Couple facts...the two goats are Nigerian Dwarf and only 18 inches tall at the shoulder. Yet both are so strong and adept at head-butting that they've knocked me to the ground before (with a sneak attack at the back of the knees). A month ago Kate wasn't listening to me while I was walking the goats on leashes and she got too close--one of the goats hit her square in the belly and, literally, sent her flying through the air and knocked the wind out of her. If I hadn't had the goat on the leash her next move would've been to put her head into Kate's body and kneel her front legs while she ground Kate into the dirt with all the force of her rock-hard skull. It's a brutal move that can kill a small animal. Or ...

A few weeks ago I wrote about two major stressors in our home--incompetent house painters dragging out a job while also making our yard a danger zone for playing kids; and young, inexperienced social workers who thought they'd uncovered something happening that isn't allowed by the state (spanking) which launched a Special Investigation. It's been a very long couple of weeks. I did ask the house painters to make some changes that they agreed to and it helped. They, supposedly, entered the final touch-ups three days ago. It was only, "a few hours work" three days ago and they've put in three more 6-8 hour days and still aren't done. They've packed up and then brought back all their ladders and equipment three times in three days. Because that's the kind of highly efficient, highly organized dweebs these guys are. Enough of them. I don't even care anymore. They'll be gone by October...I think. And today the big Special Investigation beg...

After our bonding session at the cottage a few weeks ago I gave Grandma our last name and address. Seven months of getting to know her. Building trust. Her convincing us she came unattached, without her son's presence in the girls' lives. It, truly, felt like jumping off a cliff. Knowledge given can not be taken away. But Theo convinced me that it was in the girls' best interest to make Grandma a true member of the family. And obviously she has to be able to come to our house in order to be that. I'm a multi-tasker. I figured out that if she came over Labor Day weekend, when we do our annual scramble to finish up yard and house jobs that'd been neglected all summer, then she could take the girls to the park to get them out of our hair while we worked. And she'd get her very first alone time with them. Win-win. But, ugh, so much trust. I keep failing to anticipate how much emotional work will have to go into every event. I waited to tell the girls till ...

Last weekend we did a family visit that was a return to how we'd first begun doing them. Theo and I drove the girls down and stayed and hung out with the family the whole time. The visit was just 1.5 hours long. Aunt made the lovely suggestion that good-byes would happen in the house and not at the car. She even coached grandma to do them quickly. So, we did a quick but sincere good-bye then left. No drama with grandma climbing over seats or Jane wailing from her car seat. And it all worked! Girls were cheerful and chatty on the way home! No nightmares for Jane that night! Kate was even okay--one day of extreme clinginess but then she returned to usual level of attachment-bonding cling! I'm so incredibly relieved! Because what would I have done if this hadn't worked?? I could not bear the thought of telling them we were stopping visits completely not least of all because I truly don't believe that would be the right path, long term. But now I don't have to f...

We just had a first. The girls had a bath tonight and after I towel them off I always put lotion on, especially rubbing it into their hands and faces which have such delicate skin. They have both loved this moment since the first time I did it months ago. Today as I was finishing up Kate grabbed my hand and smiled at me and said, "Mama? Wotion? Me!" Meaning: lotion put on mama by me? She slowly rubbed both her hands along my palm, then turned it over and rubbed the back. She parroted the way I say, "backs of hands, too," when I help them wash their hands by saying, "Back! Too!" Then she gently rubbed lotion along each of my fingers. It actually felt like a tiny little massage. I was surprised by how gentle and thoughtful she was being. And all the while she was smiling up at me, really happy to do this. When she finished I thanked her and she absolutely beamed with pride. It was such a sweet moment. And so unexpected. I never imagined these gir...