C's transfer

I left off with some worry about C's things that are hers, but that she doesn't necessarily care too much about. I mentioned it to dad and he's all like, "Oh, we've got a storage unit. We can just put it all in there." And so we did. Two huge bags of things I am no longer in charge of. It was literal weight taken off my shoulders.

C's transfer went as smoothly as possible. She has visit on Fridays, spends the night at her grandma's that night, and then comes home on Saturday evening. With that weekend being easter, things were a little heightened, I am sure. But instead of coming back to Kellie's Saturday evening like would have usually happened, she came back Sunday, late afternoon, after spending Saturday night and Sunday day with dad.

I was over at Kellie's house on Saturday morning, hanging up a couple of fabric banners I had made to decorate the girls' room. A mermaid one for sister and a unicorn one for C. C had been watching me make these banners all week and was extremely excited to have them in her new room. I also brought some things from her and Alaska's room to hang up. Her special letter for her name that I had painted and covered with sparkle paper, a chicken wire frame and a unicorn quote from a pack of paper that I plan to use for her scrapbook.

Knowing how hard it is to change rooms, I made up a gift bag with a magazine, coloring book, gum, and loads of candy for Kellie's son that had to move downstairs. I know that if he had refused, this whole plan would not be going forward and I was so extremely grateful to him.

Kellie's daughter also got in on the action, because of a far distant memory I have of David being adopted into our family. We had a baby shower and everything was blue and baby and for him or my mom. Until I got to a present from one sweet lady that was just for me. At the baby shower. It was sweet relief to not be left out of all the celebrating and I remember how much enjoyment and surprise I got out of having something for me amongst all that blue and baby. I made her daughter a fabric banner, too, of horses, and put together a chicken wire frame super quick for her to have in her room.

Picked C up from school on Monday and it didn't really feel any different than normal. Even if she had been with us, still, she still would have been at dad's for easter. So really, all I missed, was the fight we so often have as I do her hair and the last minute drop-off at school at 8. It seems so early compared to Alaska's drop-off of 8:45. C's hair especially infuriates me. She loves having it done, and I love doing it, but she throws a fit every single time about me pulling too hard or in the wrong places. I guess I would have given up long ago, except that she really does ask every single morning for something to be done with it and is so often happy with the end result. It's just those agonizing minutes of actual braiding or smoothing that get her riled up.

C went down for a nap, just as expected, slept for 1.5 hours and was up by the time I needed to go get Alaska. Everything was going like clock work.

Alaska was rather dismayed to have C in the car at pick-up, "But I thought she was going to Kellie's?". We are all kind of worn out. But we pushed through, knowing that next week we will be more refreshed and be more excited. (hahahaha, I am writing this exactly a week from that Monday and you would be appalled at what is coming next in our life that we had no idea about. The beauty of hindsight.)

Not sure what we filled that last little bit of time with before dance, but something, and then I was happy to have Steven's mom come and get the girls for dance. C's attitude was much better and she was compliant with minimum reminders. I was grateful to be riding a little bit on Kellie's honeymoon period that these kids so often have upon being put in a new location.

Sent C with a bag and instructed her to change at the studio back into her street clothes so that I can keep the dance things at our house. One less thing to worry about transferring.

Book Club book

Reading a book for that book club. Wounded Children, Healing Homes. And it's enlightening. Stuff I already knew deep down about attachment. Nothing earth-shattering new. But it makes me want to strangle a person for screwing C over so bad. She could be an enjoyable child and instead is wrangled with this need for constant attention which can make her unbearable.

It takes years, a lifetime, to overcome that neglect. We're doing pretty dang good for where we are. And it makes me feel like, "No, I don't want her to go anywhere else." but at the same time having her as part of our family was not in my 'dream of a family' and I don't need to change that just because someone made crappy decisions and I have a big heart. A little of time is time enough.

And she's missing all the pieces that are related to attachment. I had no idea that reasoning was related to attachment, and the book doesn't explain how, but somehow it is. And the inability to think through situations and some other things that blare on C. It's just so stupid. How something so simple could have such lasting effects. Not just attention-seeking effects, but cognitive effects.

And we've come so freaking far. And it's been stinkin' hard! A lot of counseling appointments. A lot or practice. A lot of patience and heart.

And people adopt kids like this! Like they honestly go searching for kids who have been neglected and are willing to put all their all into it. The book talked about that, too. About beliefs and myths of adoption and I just can't fathom going into this blind. Taking on a 4 year old and calling her yours forever when you don't even know anything about her and working through everything. Knowing that you will work through it and knowing that it will take years and years.

Like if C kept going at the rate we were currently going she could maybe be socially normal in 2 or 3 years. But always missing the reasoning and the everything else. But that's a lot of energy to be putting in for so long. Steven keeps telling me I am trying to run a marathon in a sprint. But you have to. You have to want to reach the end bad enough to just do it and keep up on it. And I haven't even done what I was supposed to do with her this week. Like mindful exercises and all that. I am just pooped.

The caseworker has insisted that dad have counseling set up for Kenzie before she is approved to go with him. Which feels good. She sees and values that hard work I have done with Kenzie and is validating that.

New Home for C

Spring Break has come and gone. By one week, almost two. Life was put on hold for a minute there. Our case worker went on vacation the week before spring break and I went on vacation the week of spring break and the foster family that is going to take over the care for C went on vacation and we all got back to 'real life' Saturday. Not a whole lot of time to make things happen. My hopes of C going to a someone else during that week were put on pause.

When I got back to life, Monday morning, I sent out a message explaining that I needed a plan. The 21st, when dad was supposed to have his apartment had come and gone. Spring break had come and gone. I was fine with a planful move, as they call it, but not ok with being put on the back burner. I put my deadline as Wednesday, so I could tell C the plan with the help of the counselor. Who we had an appointment with that afternoon. Got my answer back. C was for sure going to go to the same family who has her older sister (when I say older, I mean one year older) and I took the reigns from there. Made a plan with the new mom. Told the caseworker we would get it figured out and if there arose complications, we would let her know. It's so perfect. These workers just aren't as involved as I thought they would be. Which is just fine. I can make things happen on my own. In fairness, too, after our most rotten caseworker (who, by the way, ended up getting enough complaints against her that she resigned) we got a really great one. And because she's super great, she also have super complicated cases. A lot of kids with high needs and extra people in their lives - teams of people to help make their functioning the best possible. She came rather blindsided to our long story and has done her best to move things along but also recognized very quickly

Our date is the 15th. Decided last week, now that today is already the 10th. Kellie is working on the girls' room and has had to do some major room re-vamping. Moving a son downstairs out of his room to give C and her sister a space. And her own daughter and C's sister have been sharing a room, which was then revamped to accommodate the new shared room of C and the sister. It's been more bed moving than I care to think about. And not just twins, either. Bunk beds and doubles/queen - not sure which.

Which is fine. And then I get a message from Kellie, "I am painting." And I was just floored. All this preparation to go into adding C into their home. It's overwhelming. And I look at what I have to get done - what I have to get gathered up. And it's a little much. I have started a list, which will be easy to follow once I get started packing it all up. Right now my trouble is we're on the brink. Too soon to start filling the living room with boxes and bags, but late enough that I have got a detailed list of things that I am going to need to gather. I wish we had more space in this little 2 bedroom apartment. It is what it is.

I went over today to talk with Kellie about C's lactose-intolerance, her hair - those curls! - and other things like bed-time routine and phrases that we use at home that help her pull herself back together. I try to remind myself. We were given these kids with knowing nothing. And we've made it. We've done ok. And we didn't even have a number we could message with a quick question. Everything is going to be ok.

We have dance every Monday, 5-6, and I offered to pick C up from head start on Mondays. Have her come to our house for a nap and Alaska and her can play for awhile and I'll bring her home after dance. It works out super great. I will still get to be with her once in awhile, Alaska can have a nice play date, and then we can send C on her way.

Interesting - oh my gosh - fact. Apparently dad has an apartment. That much is truth. What they don't have is the $2,000 a month income to pay for it. Not even close. Not that rent is 2k - but that's what you have to make to move into the complex. And after a couple months they will be able to use their real income for a subsidized apartment. So. They're asking everyone and anyone for the green stuff. And even set up a go-fund-me account. Which is set at 4k. Because, as is explained in the piece, is not only to cover their stuff, but to help out with back rent on child support. Because I guess if you're doing it - may as well go all the way and get all things covered, right? It's sickening. Like the kind where you laugh because you have no other choice. So that's where we're at with that. Which makes it look like the girls won't be going to dad, even when school is out. He's got two weeks to get the money in, they've already been given a huge amount of time, and then they will give the apartment to someone else. Whooops.

Which I find a little irritating on my end. Because I have these huge les schwab bags full of C's stuff. The things that I don't dare get rid of, but because C is so unattached to material things, they hold no meaning for her and she hasn't missed them. I don't want to burden Kellie with them, I also don't want to be responsible for them. It's like literally holding onto baggage. I thought I could hold onto them for a couple more weeks while dad gets his stuff together. But a couple weeks looks like it's going to be a couple more months. Maybe never. And if he can't get his stuff together by June - then ummmm... do I dare hand it off to the next foster parent? Or maybe at that point I just give it all to him. But then I would feel bad if the girls ended up going to grandma and all of C's stuff is with dad. So really. I have no idea what to do with this stuff.

Update on C housing and Interviews

Ok, can I just say and "yahoooo!" and a "wheeeeee!" 

I picked C up from visit yesterday and was met with her dad saying, "We'll have a move-in date on the 21st." Now, I know, that does not mean, "We'll have an apartment on the 22nd and can take C on the 27th (first day of spring break)." But it puts my heart at rest that the 'but onlys' are going to be calmed way down in a week. And anxious at the same time because ummm, hello, time just can't move fast enough.

Back when I told DHS in February that C needed a new placement at spring break I was not joking. I also didn't know how much I would need her to have a new placement at spring break. I honestly thought I could possibly go all the way to June - or at the very least - May - since headstart gets out in May. But you know what? No. Spring Break with the possibility of a two week window if dad gets his move-in date as middle of April. But three weeks. No, that's just too long. 

I checked in again with them the beginning of March - a quick e-mail to let them know I was still very serious about C having a new placement and if there was any word out there about where she could be going. Which was also about the same time that we found out Dad could possibly have housing. So it's been in limbo since. And because DHS works in crises mode as it is - one emergency to another - it would be silly to expect them to have a home already lined up for C. Which has also made me humbly patient because even if DHS works in crises mode - they seem to follow through with everything, even if it's last minute. So I just need to patiently wait for my hour. It's out there. Just not on the same day of the month as I think it should be on. 

And an update on Steven's interview stuff - because let's be honest - I really wanted to be looking for a house and moving to another city around spring break time, too. Well, honestly, back in January, but I will take what I can get. He's had 9 interviews so far. One in Utah, a handful in Oregon and a handful in Washington. Probably more in Washington than in Oregon. Just because that's where the openings are. We aren't picky and the only one I have told him to not apply for was in Idaho. I refuse to go back to Idaho after having done my time of college there. Unless it's Boise. Then I will think hard - but really - I hate Idaho's guts with a passion. 

His last one was for Spokane. 6 hours from where we are right now. Which seems like a little too far. That's a full day's drive. With a new baby coming and all the changes that will bring, I really wish we could be closer to family. And I was pretty dead-set against wanting to want Spokane, too. It's pretty far north and seems like it's got a lot of nothing around it and then - bam - there it is in the middle of nowhere. A little like Boise. After looking up some photos and looking at house prices I decided it would be an ok place to land and I may actually be really hoping for this one. We'll find out tomorrow, and I guess if there's no word about it after this post, you'll know it didn't work out. 

Counseling Homework

From the counselor this week:

As far as what to work on...

1. Practice mindfulness calming exercises with her. On a simple level, this includes sitting and noticing or observing your surroundings. On a more complex level it would be you looking up some mindfulness exercises on pinterest or I can give you some. If you can pick a consistent time that would be great, but maybe once a day. All your kids can be involved. There is a great website called gonoodle that has some calming exercise but also self-regulation and confidence boosting activities. She gets trinkets for a little character for finishing challenges. 

2. Use of encouragement vs. praise. I notice she gives up easily on tasks and perhaps this is due to high anxiety. I was hoping you can use statements like you are working hard, you figured it out, you are trying to figure out how that works, you are determined, you've got it, you know how that works. That may boost her internal motivation vs. relying on external motivation. 

I do think the play therapy is helpful in the sense of her having complete power, and control. I see these themes in the play and that tells me she needs to have that experience to find balance. 

I hope this helps.

My reply:

Yes! Thank you for the things to work on. I have meant to work more on the mindful exercises that you showed us last time you were here. But, as it seems with some things, without direct orders and the need to report back, it slips. We'll do that this week. 

And encouraging words. Yes, that is do-able.

Giving more choices. This is definitely my weakness. For sure. I've been taking a love and logic class and while the first few sessions seemed redundant of PCIT (and I liked PCIT better) and some other things - we finally hit the section about choices and I think that has made it easier for me. Not perfect, but easier. I thought choices had to be very concrete and something that I could not all the way predict - breakfast (although she gets no choice here because she eats at head start), what to wear (Which is the absolute HARDEST thing for me to let go. I care too much about appearance. Not something I am willing to let go) but through the love and logic class I learned a trick. To just throw choices in all the time about every day stuff. Are you going to choose to wear your coat out the door or carry your coat out the door. Do you choose to wear your hair down or in a braid today. Do you choose to read books on the couch with me or in your room by yourself. Do you choose to put your things away now or in two minutes. (THIS one has been amazing. Because really - I used to always just say, "two minutes and it's time to put it away" and now I can say "You can choose to do it now or in two minutes" and she always chooses two minutes, which is what I am accustomed to and life doesn't change any - except for an added half sentence. And that counts as a choice, right? Should I be wording these differently, though? If PCIT taught me anything, it taught me the power of the right vocabulary and the change that one word can make in a sentence. Back to our days of, "The train is on the track." vs "You put the train on the track."

In other words:

We've had a pretty ok week. Nothing huge and earth shattering. We did go to Steven's grandparents' house and the three of them were running around like crazies. C has a tendency to take things 2 steps further and over-do it. She bumped into a wall a couple of times and got too rough with Talmage so she had to sit in a reclining chair for about a hour while we waited the visit out. I was just drained too much to do all the re-directing that I so often do. She did a really good job of keeping herself contained and complained a little bit but could understand when I told her that she was not controlling her body the way that she needed to and I was done talking about it. She can do these things that are expected to her, if the standards are there and held. She's an amazing girl.

Current Things being made into Memories

A few memories for Talmage;

Talking has come slow and not too painful (only because Talmage isn't easily frustrated and can expertly try a new way of showing me what is up when I don't understand the first time.) But so slow. Slow enough that we will need to see a speech pathologist when he turns three. Because apparently that is the magic number for problems to show up and be legit.

For example, today he was trying to tell me that he fell down in the bathroom. He came out after the thud, holding his bum and saying "ow" and I played a little bit dumb and asked what happened. He repeated his "ow" and bum holding and when I insisted I didn't understand he did a great mock-up of running, sliding, and coming down on his bum. Smart one, this one is.

Last week I was laying the girls' Sunday clothes out for them. Dress, sweater, tights and Talmage held up the tites and 'tite' after one of the girls had referenced them. Later that evening I was giving him a hug and he said, "tight" and then later on in the week he couldn't get the lid off of something and again said, "tight". Weird word with multiple meanings - but he gets it.

Steven's favorite right now: Practicing the vowels A, E, O, U - every time U comes up, Talmage comes back with, "No, me!" after saying each vowel before perfectly.

My mom's favorite right now: Steven trying to get across to Talmage the "me" and "you" without Talmage saying, "No, me!" - he finally got it to work one evening and was so excited to show my mom while she was watching the kids while we went to mutual.

Steven: Here Talmage, show Nana what we've been working on.
Talmage: *Crickets*
Steven: "Like this," pointing to himself, "Me, You." Pointing at Nana, "Me, You."
Talmage: "No!" Pointing to himself, "Me!" Pointing at Nana,  "Nana!"

And goodnights. He won't sleep without Steven being home. It's mostly me, too. I just love my time with this precious one too much. His loyal, quiet ways and when he gets out of bed for the 5th time I just don't have the heart to put him back in. My hard ways of the bedtime routine have begun to be softened. We do a ritual of "This is the Church" with the hand motions before I shut out the light for him. I don't know why he loves it so much, but he was the one that insisted it be done and so it has become tradition.

A few memories for Alaska:

She loves this baby. LOVES the baby. She is always hugging and kissing on my belly and telling me how much she loves "the little one".

We started doing some reading today. I bought an USBORNE reading library that is supposed to teach kids how to read. It has taken me forever to a) get it out of the box and b) get it out of the plastic wrap. But we started today and it was absolutely amazing to see her light up when she read that first sentence all by herself. Different than all the teaching of reading that I have done in the past. I guess that is one of the powers of having your own child. I did a lot of reading with one of my brothers and I never got the same thrill when he got a word as I did when Alaska got a word. It's amazing.

Her favorite part of school today was making a paper airplane.

And this girl's cutting! She's as good as I was in like, 2nd grade. She can substantially be relied upon to cut straight lines when given a line to cut on and has successfully cut out an Elsa figure from her coloring book, expertly going around the hair and the outstretched arm and the dress - the whole thing was pretty awesome looking.

The new baby:

Squirmy little guy. The ultra sound was weird last week - seeing him move around in there but not feeling him because of that front-loaded placenta.

Squirmy little guy has me absolutely freaked out. All the energy this promises.

And, speaking of the front loaded placenta - call it weird - but he has gotten much stronger this past week and I can feel him pushing through it. And he must be kicking something fierce because I feel him inside, kick out and then I feel the placenta or whatever bounce back in and it takes my breath away a little every time. And not in the "that's so cute" way. But in the like for real, "Oooff" way and it's not so comfortable. On my left side, where the placenta is not, I can feel him kick out - but there's no retaliation of bouncing back. Weird things are going on.

Baby number three - not the same picnic as the other two, that's for sure. As much work as a newborn is, I am really ready to not be pregnant anymore. Being pregnant was never what I loved before - but this go around it is becoming something that I absolutely detest. Having three other kids just makes for a tired person - all of the time. And not the kind of tired that a nap takes care of. It is an all around 'worn out'. Thank goodness for the reward of an 18 month old eventually. Which I have decided is my favorite age.

Where the Anchor Lands Guest Speaker

Guest speaker #2. Like I said. I read a lot of entries to help me come to peace with my decision to say goodbye and searching for a sense of community that I have only scratched the surface of. This website has become a book that I pick-up and open a few times a day - reading until my mind is full and I need time to think and then coming back for more. 

I have been going to foster parent support group each month. These foster parents. They are wonderful people. Full of good. Full of strength and understanding nods. As unique as each of our situations are, there is always a spine of similarity running through our experiences. 

My first meeting I was so overwhelmed. Here were people who had been doing this for ages. Who were so good at what they were doing. Who were embracing the hard and then giving praise to Heavenly Father for the strength to get through. And I guess that's the part where I aspired to be so much like, and also is appearing to be the hardest to do. I work my buns off. Practice, practice, practice, but I forget the power of prayer that could be mine if I would just take the time to tap into it. Maybe in this next month. That can be my personal goal. To be someone who is grateful and indebted for their relationship with their Heavenly Father. If it is the strength that I most admired in all those people that have become familiar faces, I am sure I can develop it, as well. 

Where The Anchor Lands

Posted on December 5, 2014 by allofthejoy

You will hear a lot of talk about dropping anchors around here. It’s the call of this crew of mamas when the going gets tough… “Drop anchor and pray for daylight.” Pray you don’t go under when the world is falling apart around you, pray that your hope stands firm in the face of trial or simply pray you make it through the night when words fail you and the most you can offer up is tears. Honestly, most days that’s all you have because foster care is hard and it will break you in ways you never imagined. However, unlike those sailors on that ship with Paul, we know better than to put our hope in anchors. We know that when we take our “soundings”—court’s coming and it doesn’t look good, the kids are suffering some unknown and we don’t have the answers, everything is pointing to the bittersweet goodbye—that we don’t have to place our hope in metal and shifting sand. Instead we drop anchor (put our hope) into better things, things that don’t just steady us in the storm, but change the storm completely…

We drop anchor into community and not some shadow of community, but real people pouring their hearts into loving each other and others. Flesh and blood people who understand your suffering or at least know enough to just sit with you in it. Community that prays alongside you when that fearful night comes and you find yourself about to go under.

We drop anchor into His word. His word that heals and strengthens, makes darkness light and gives us feet fit for walking on waves or navigating deep oceans.

We drop anchor into the beautiful…into sweet smiles and infectious giggles; into simple pleasures like bath time, lullabies and cooing babies. Into moments where the hard to reach teen finally reaches for you, or the family that seemed lost suddenly finds itself whole. Into sun on your face or rain on the roof. Into sunrises and sunsets. Into hope-soaked, kingdom things.

Most importantly though, we drop anchor into Him, the game changer, the storm tamer, the heart refiner, the hope for those that find themselves on stormy seas in and out of foster care. Truth is if you’re a foster parent for any of length of time the day will come when you will have to drop anchors and those anchors will most likely be made up of tears, raised fists and breath that was knocked out of you. However, it’s really not important what your anchor is made of, but rather where the anchor lands.