(foster)Mom Fail.

Y’all, I’ve gotta tell you something. I made a big parenting error last week. If you have a child like my Charlie Grace, I want you to learn from my mistake. I’ll preface this experience with a little bit of back-story.
Our Charlie Grace is an anxious soul. Maybe she gets it from the ‘fretful’ genes she inherited from her mama. Or maybe I’ve inadvertently shaped her responses to experiences; kids are, after all, always watching and learning from us. Regardless, I’ve learned over the past few years that she is my child who needs ALL THE WORDS. We discuss what will happen before going into an experience. We discuss what will not happen. We discuss when things will happen, and how they will happen and where. You may think this is overkill, but my girl depends on this type of routine. This is how we get through doctor’s appointments, play dates with new friends, someone other than mom picking her up from school, and holidays with those relatives who are strangers but want to get into your personal space with a hug anyway. Verbal Prep and our family are best friends.
She needs the words. She needs me to describe as much as I can and answer all her questions. And I always do because that equals a successful experience for both of us. Except last week I didn’t.
Last week we had a new little placement. He arrived late at night, but our kiddos just rolled with the new addition and changes in schedule when they saw him the next morning. That’s the norm now. We’ve had several emergency placements recently {children who have to be removed from their situation as soon as possible but a long term foster placement isn’t available immediately, so they come to us because that’s what we’re best at providing right now}. A new foster home was identified for this little guy after a few days so I packed up his things {and cried} and tucked him into his carseat {and cried} and snuggled him one last time {and cried}. I am typically very diligent in ensuring my emotions stay healthy when it comes to fostering, by reminding myself daily why we do this {Love God, Love people}, and who we do this for {any that have need}. It’s not for me, though I do love a good baby fix. It’s not for us to grow our family, though we will if there is a need. It’s for the child and the birth parents and I’m typically on board with the ebbs and flows of that process.  But with this little fella it was different from the first moment. I was desperate for him to stay longer; even just one more day. I really struggled with having to let him move on to another home, even though he was heading to a wonderful family who will love him to pieces until his parents are able care for him again.
I don’t think Chris knew how to handle me this week. He just laughed at my crazy. And no, we typically don’t chat about foster kiddos like they are puppies, but desperate times…
van
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chris lol
I was so wrapped up in processing my sorrow that I forgot to consider the emotional needs of my children. Our little visitor was a part of their lives too. They form a bond with each child who comes in our home and we always talk with our kiddos about what is happening as much as is reasonable for their age, while maintaining the privacy of the child who is joining us. And when a child is moving on, either to another placement or to biological family, we always talk it out.
But last week I forgot. I didn’t talk to Charlie about where our visitor was going and why. She fell asleep on the way to social services. I remember feeling relieved because I didn’t want to have to answer her ten million questions that border on ‘almost too difficult for mommy to answer’ about science and animals and life and whatever other brainy topic she’s fixated on recently. When she woke up, our visitor was gone and she was heartbroken. “Mom, he was just here in the carseat a minute ago”, she said between sobs.
GUILT. I felt it like a huge weight on my heart. I felt horrible. I’d failed to meet her emotional needs. My kiddo who needs ALL THE WORDS. I gave her NONE. I didn’t respect her need to understand what was happening, and she deserved to know, because fostering affects her every. single. day.
charlie and C.P.
Fostering is good. And she’s compassionate and loving and a nurturer from her wispy brown hair to her crazy little toes because of it.
But fostering is also difficult. It’s heartbreak, and confusion, and forcing flexibility on someone who might not cope with those changes easily.
You may not see my blunder as a big issue, and I understand that because we all parent differently. But I caused my child emotional stress by not giving her the level of communication she needed. It took about 24 hours for her questions and worries about our visitor to dwindle. She needed to know more information. And I freely gave answers and comfort whenever she brought the topic around to him again.
We don’t tell our children everything. In fact, I’d say our children are fairly sheltered. BUT, I won’t let my daughter’s young age keep me from talking to her about real life. About kids who need a safe place, or grownups who have a sickness and they need to get help, or a mistake mommy made and has to apologize for, or something we see that doesn’t fall in line with how God wishes for us to act. I won’t assume that she’s too young. I will continue to keep the words flowing. I don’t want the lines of communication between us to close before we even get to the difficult ‘teen parenting’ years. I want her to know she can ask, and I will answer.

To my daughter.

Child, It’s been one of those kinda afternoons. The kind when you seem to cry over everything, while at the same time being angry at everything, and I just don’t get  you and I think to myself “Are you hangry? Are you tired? Is this just you and your four-ness and a reaction to your brother’s almost two-ness? Are you jealous? Are you hurting? TELL ME!”
And then I realize you ARE telling me. I may not know the exact source of your tears, but I do know you are trying to communicate a need with me and I definitely know the solution. You’re needing connection. You just don’t know how to ask for it.
So here we are. Connected until you’ve had enough. I’ll carry you until I can’t carry you anymore; then if you need it, I’ll carry you more still.
Xoxo,
Mama

I can’t help but think of the times when I’m like my four year old. I’m feeling feels and sometimes they make me cry or rage and I can’t quite put a label on the source. But I know the solution. Connection. I’m seeking connection. With my kids, with my husband, with my friends…. any or all of those help. But running to God for that connection I’m craving is the ultimate solution. He is trustworthy. He’s solid. He knows me down to my bone marrow. He knows what I need and will provide for me beyond anything I can fathom.

Close to Jesus

Charlie has had a blue vein on the bridge of her nose since birth. Some days it is more prominent than others, and we often get questions or comments about her ‘bruise’. It may fade as she gets older, it may not. I rarely notice it anymore, but as she’s gotten older she’s begun to notice it and ask about it. We typically tell her that it’s a special mark that God gave to her.
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Today she announced proudly: “Mommy, I have a blue spot on my nose that God gave me…. so I will always be friends to JESUS!”
Bless. Yes you will, kiddo. Yes you will.

A Q&A on Foster Care {pretty much more than you even wanted to know}

We’ve been on our journey as foster parents for almost two years now. Just as all foster parents, we’ve certainly had our ups and downs. We’re still super new at this. I feel like I know maybe 1% of anything. Maybe next year I will know 2%. Most of the time we have no idea what’s going on or what to expect for our next step; as is the way with the foster care system. We get so many questions and comments about foster care and I absolutely love answering them, because there seems to be a shroud of secrecy (or fear, depending on who you speak to) and a whole lot of mis-information floating around out there about what it means to be a foster parent.
I’ve been hesitant to put this out there because… fear. I’m afraid of hurting feelings by being blunt. I’m afraid of stepping on toes. I’m afraid of my words from my heart being read through the filter of someone else’s heart and misconstrued or taken in the wrong way. I’m afraid of my own self-serving nature. I’m afraid this may come across as a slap-in-the-face for some of us, because so often truth stings in a similar way. And that’s why we sometimes turn our head and try to ignore it.
But I will press publish on this post, because God is good. I’m afraid, but God is good. And the lives he creates are good and deserving of love, no questions asked.
I’m loving these words from Rebecca over at No Hands But Ours. She wrote them as they apply to adoption, but they can clearly be applied to so many aspects of life and how even when A or B or C happens, God is still good.

“You are good, and what you do is good; teach me your decrees.”

Psalm 119:68

“So I can question His promise and character, or I can open my clinched palms and accept that He is good, and His work is good. I can let go of my expectations, efforts, timing and struggling. I can look beyond my adoption and parenting challenges, and remind myself of the profound truth. He’s always at work, and it’s always good.      

Adoption sings His name, all the time, in its beauty and in its stretching. Both the bitter and the sweet are saturated with His goodness. 
He is good. Let’s make that the cadence that we train our hearts to beat to.

good:

1. right, proper fit

2. morally excellent, righteous, virtuous

3. satisfactory in quality, quantity or degree

4. of high quality


5. kind, beneficent, friendly

6. honorable or worthy”

 
So with the mindset of “training our hearts to the cadence of God’s goodness” and the action of loving others because we are loved, let us begin this Q&A.
I hear some of these comments and questions almost daily. Maybe you’ve uttered them to me. or to someone else. or just quietly to yourself in your head. These are not the answers from every foster parent across the globe. These are my answers to tough questions and comments. This is a look into the hows and whys for the Baker family:
“I don’t know how you do it.”
Speaking from a true, honest place – I don’t know how I do it either. I don’t know how we do it. I don’t know how all foster parents do it. Being a parent to a child who is not your own {and probably won’t ever be} is hard. It truly is; I won’t sugar coat it. I don’t know exactly how we do it but I do know that even on my very best days, there is not enough compassion, love, selflessness, forgiveness and non-judgment in my body to accomplish the task of a foster parent. But God. God has given us his Spirit, and with the Spirit comes things that we have no hope of accomplishing on our own: love. joy. peace. patience. kindness. goodness. faithfulness. gentleness. self-control. {Galatians 5:22-23}.
And I don’t know how I will handle the things to come. God does, though. and He will sustain me emotionally. mentally. physically.
As far as the day-to-day operations go, we are able to do it because we have a team. Our teammates are fosterparents-by-association, and they are so so important to us. Teammates are all over the place and come into our life in all different ways.
My mother and father-in-law who watch Charlotte at the drop of a hat so I can make it to appointments for myself and for kiddos {as in…. sometimes with just a few hours notice because I’m so bad with planning-ahead}.
The mom-friend who had a bag of appropriate sized/seasoned clothing waiting on our doorstep before we even get home from picking up a child.
The teacher friend who kept her Spring break schedule open to help me shuffle kiddos around from here to there.
The church friends who take turns holding/feeding/changing a baby or holding/feeding/playing with Charlotte so other things can get done.
My private clients who don’t mind that I bring our littlest kiddos into our speech therapy sessions until I can arrange permanent child-care.
The girlfriend who picks up my slack and overlooks the rest, or brings me a latte because she knows I may not have birthed the babe, but I’m still dealing with all the things that come along with a fresh baby {like sleepless nights and quadrupled laundry}.
Our family members and friends who love on our visitors unconditionally.
Our team has been strategically placed by God. Our team is everything.
“I couldn’t do that.” 
Lies. That is actually a lie you tell yourself. You could do this. A more appropriate phrase would be “I don’t want to”. And I don’t blame you, I’ve said it before in regards to so many commands, whispered or shouted, from God. And sometimes I still say it daily, usually under my breath so God  won’t hear me: “but… I don’t want to”.
Fortunately for us, there are no parameters to God’s command to “care for the widows and orphans”. He doesn’t provide an ‘if’ clause. “Care for the widows and orphans if….. you have enough money. if you are married for at least 2 years. if you have your own children first. if you have a spare bedroom. if you can be a stay at home mom. if you are under 40. if you’re empty-nesters. if you have your whole life together”.
Remember me? I can’t plan ahead. I never finish laundry all the way. I’m not really in to the whole ‘cooking dinner’ thing {though I’m trying}. I dust never. I recently started my own business…. so I make practically $0. It’s a win in my book if I hit my snooze only twice. My gas tank is almost always less than half full {don’t tell my dad}.
and yet God uses ME! And fortunately for you and me, children don’t need much. Really, they don’t. They need food, water, shelter, love, and snuggles. They need someone present in their lives. They need time. We all have all of those things.
“I’d get too attached.”
Honestly, that’s kind of the point. I recently read this from another foster parent and I love how she just lays it out there. Attachment is the point of foster care. It’s why the United States uses Foster Care instead of Orphanages; to allow for appropriate attachment and bonding in a family environment. If you don’t get attached, you’re doing it wrong.
Research shows secure attachment in infancy results in better social and emotional outcomes later in life, and the inverse of that is also true: insecure attachments result in destructive outcomes. Having a caregiver who provides consistent, loving, responsive care (meaning they consistently meet a child’s needs) helps children learn to regulate their own behavior and emotions, as well as satisfies their innate need for feeling loved and lovable. All of these are good, necessary things for a functional, quality life. Many children in foster care have experienced disorganized (aka: dysfunctional) attachment as a result of abuse or neglect from their previous caregiver. It is possible (and necessary) for a child to build secure attachments with a surrogate caregiver (aka Foster Parent) if their birth parents are not currently able to provide them with that crucial developmental experience.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
Yes, absolutely. But, God has given me a spirit of power and love. not timidity. not fear. {2 Timothy 1:7}. What truly frightens me is the thought of living my life for only myself. For all of my thoughts to be spent on only myself. For my money, and time, and possessions to be hoarded for only myself. That is what I’m afraid of, because that is most definitely not what the creator of everything created us and redeemed us for. There is so much more life out there beyond the small confines of the Baker home in Chesapeake, Virginia. Lives in need; and children in foster care are a portion of those lives who have great needs {sometimes very great needs}. Needs that we can meet.
I am also afraid that I am not enough. I am not enough of a mother, or a therapist, or a compassionate and patient person to be what some of these children need. Chris and I don’t yet foster children over 4 or 5. Those are the boundaries we have requested, based on our space and time and abilities. And any long term placements we have had so far have been little fresh squishes, the ones that are needy but also cuddly. We have not yet entered into the realm of foster care that is the older child. The one who is needy, but maybe resembles a porcupine rather than a cuddly puppy. The one who has experienced more life {and the terrible parts of life, at that} in a year than we have in all of our years combined. When the time comes, we will most likely experience that aspect of foster care as well. And we will be afraid. I’m actually more afraid, though, of not cuddling that porcupine. They are ‘the least of these’; they have the greatest needs. If we don’t, who will?
“Are you worried about Charlotte?”
Yes. I  worry about Charlotte. Every.Single.Day.
She’s ingesting GMOs. There’s BPA in that water bottle. She skinned her knees. When did I bathe her last? She doesn’t know all her letters. She won’t stop picking her nose! I didn’t put sunscreen on her. I raised my voice at her. Are we parenting correctly?
But I know what you’re really wondering. No, I’m not worried that our involvement in foster care will hurt her in some way. I’m actually excited for her to have these experiences. We protect her from as much in life as we can, and we will protect our foster children from as much in life as we can. That may mean parenting or scheduling or abiding a little differently than we have in the past.
She does suffer, though, in the same way an only child suffers when the attention is no longer only on themselves. She shares her toys. her food. her mommy and daddy time. and it’s good for her. She was born with a big heart and her experience as a big sister to other kiddos is making it even bigger.
Big Sister Charlie
I’ve had this ‘big sister’ shirt sitting in her drawer for a long time; it was passed down from a friend but Charlotte hasn’t had the opportunity to wear it yet because we haven’t expanded our family {and won’t, at least biologically}. It occurred to me, though, that she is very much a big sister to all of the kiddos that we get to love on, and will continue to be to be a big sister to so many, whether it’s ever made official or not.
Just speaking from a real place here: I know foster care isn’t for everyone. We all can’t do all the things! But we each can do some things.
Thank you for asking those questions. And for being open enough to ask them. Thank you for reading this and for considering what your next step may be. It may not be foster care, but it will be something. Will it be a step towards providing for yourself? Or will it be a step towards providing for someone who isn’t able to help themselves?
He is good. Let’s make that the cadence that we train our hearts to beat to.