Oh, well, I couldn't resist.

I wasn't going to post anything else about her, but I just heard this song and it was so perfectly appropriate. This is it, I promise!

Daughter of Heaven
by Kate Rusby

Daughter of heaven Oh, daughter of now
Drifting away and don't make a sound
We'll cry when we hear that you ran from this town
She's gone to a new place now
She's gone to a new place now

Daughter of heaven Oh, daughter of now
The stars are your jewels the rubies your crown
We are standing off for your right to stand
She's gone to a new place now
She's gone to a new place now

Daughter of heaven Oh, daughter of now
Your eyes they were closed and your hands they were bound
There's a time in the past when I had to come down
She's gone to a new place now
She's gone to a new place now

Daughter of heaven Oh, daughter of now
Drifting away and don't make a sound
We'll cry when we hear that you ran from this town
She's gone to a new place now
She's gone to a new place now

She's gone to a new place now

Balance Beam

It's hard to maintain balance with the kids I have and my job and everything else, with stuff like this weighing me down on the other side. Beyond the devastating situation (because I'm sick of writing about it), I'm so disappointed that I had just recently dealt with my grief enough to get my self back, and now I'm having to grieve a new loss of the same person and struggling not to fall back into those patterns- irritability, anger, distancing from the people who are still in my life. But I'm so grateful that I did that emotional work recently because it helps to deal better now. And I have to deal better now- life is still happening. Prancer is having surgery in two days, Ringo is still adjusting to what is for him a grief-ridden experience, my wife is still wonderful and just as stressed-out as me and needs attention. This is why those negative patterns (for me, anger, irritability, distancing) are so handy- they don't heal but they make me functional. If there is a way to not engage in those patterns and still function, I may find the key to staying a foster parent. If not... I'll have to think about how much longer we can do this.

To heal or not to heal?

Such a difficult question when you're asking about healing from the loss of a child. Healing feels like a betrayal of her, and I'm still not convinced that it isn't. I want to put it off until I can be sure she will either be back home with us or that she is not endangered, but that game just keeps going on and on. That last visit and the apparent neglect and the aftermath of reporting on it threw me back six months emotionally and I really lost it again when it was all done. It became apparent to me that I really have to do something about this grief thing. Not that I didn't know that already, I was just choosing not to think about how it was making me change into this irritable, rigid, inaccessible meanie. I don't want to be that way, but it's what usually keeps me out of the pit of despair and therefore functional, if not likeable. But, it has to stop. I would like to be the nice person I once was and reopen to being an emotionally available mom and wife. So, I could have sworn somebody once left a comment on this blog suggesting that I read The Grief Recovery Handbook, but I can't seem to find it, so if you did leave such a comment, thanks. I'm reading it now and hoping I can bring myself to answer that question up there.

Bye-bye, baby.

Here we go

I've discovered that grief is a sneaky thing. Regardless of all your mixed feelings, and in spite of your being just fine for the longest time, and even if you're totally unaware that it's waiting below the surface, it's perfectly capable of knocking you on your ass at any moment. I don't think there's any experience that quite compares to long-term placement foster parenting. There's nothing quite like counting down the days and hours to the exact time at which you will lose your baby. And she is our baby. You don't parent a kid as amazing as her for a year and not wind up with her being your baby- naysayers can stuff it. I don't know what else to say about it right now. This is only a two day visit. Next week Sweets will be gone permanently. Probably. And isn't that the kicker- the little possibility in the back of your head that she might come back- a voice that is so hard to stomp out. That's it, I guess- I feel sad today.

Am I ever looking forward to the next three weeks.

Yesterday- toy and puzzle piece explosion to rival the baby powder explosion (see WTF post).
Today- pencil all over her dresser.
Tomorrow- Azcaban.

And then they pull one o' these:

Me: "This movie is a little bit scary, you know. It has a big dog in it."

Our 3-year-old: "It's ok, Mommy. I won't freak out."

The WTF? of parenting

I think this should be the new name for the "OMG of parenting" group on cafemom. This is just one of those days where I am at a total loss. Sweetie's daycare teacher reported that she went upstairs to use the bathroom, followed by going to the window (where the teacher could see and hear her) and s-c-r-e-a-m-i-n-g her head off for no reason whatsoever and would not stop. So, we spend the ride home talking about how misbehaving at daycare means she gets in trouble at home, too, and she had a little time-out at home for a while to get the point across. So, I go to tell her she can come out and discover that she has gotten a bottle of baby powder from somewhere and poured it all. over. her. room. The stuff was absolutely everywhere. WTF?
I am proud to report that I did not get mad and send her cruising into another time-out. By this point I was so mystified by her that I simply handed her a wet wash cloth to clean it up with and walked out. So, the mess is getting cleaned up without fuss and without my having to do it. But still... wouldn't I love to know what the hell is going on!

How do they do that?

First, she's on your hip every day, you're having rocking-chair, bottle, baby schmooze time every evening, and she's scribbling and learning letters with you. Then you blink, and she's showing off her jumping skills, having real conversations with you in near-perfect grammar, and drawing people and "reading" along with you at storytime. Lately it seems like every day brings up something new that makes us say "Hey- when did you become a girl? Not a baby, but a girl?"

"It's the end of the summer, when we send our children to the moon."

There's a new chart on Sweetie's door now. Usually it's her sticker chart for good listening and using a big girl voice. Now it's a calendar. I sat down with her and marked out the next few weeks, put smiley faces on her visit days and little beds for her overnight visits coming up, and circled the last day in big purple marker. And now we're crossing off the days as we go along. Sweets is acting out like crazy. I'm only sane because I am religiously rereading my favorite parenting book. We're all starting to feel sad, I think. Hmm.

By George, I think (hope) she's got it!

"Mommy, I'm hungry."
I've been waiting to hear this phrase for 10 months. She knew when she was hungry and wanted to eat!!! Woo hoo! No saying we won't be back to the same-old, same-old tomorrow, but I'll take it.

Mommy penance

I really wish somebody would assign me some "Hail Mary"s or something because I feel like the most rotten, bad, mean Mommy today. Sweetie had her big doctor's appointment this morning, where they gave her 3 immunization shots and took blood. I don't know why they must do that all at once. My poor baby! They got her in both legs and one arm. The arm was for the bloodwork, which was the worst part because the needle had to stay in her vein for a looong time- maybe it just seemed like forever to me because I had to hold her while she screamed and sobbed, but gosh. I walked out crying right along with her and I'm still kind of teary when I think about it- it was awful! To make it all worse, they couldn't get enough blood out of her and we have to go back next week. I don't know if I can even bring myself to do it again, but I guess I'm going to have to suck it up and be a mean Mommy once more. I officially declare this the worst part of parenting.

And I'm back! Like Rubbermaid.

Ok, so the end of the last post was a little down- I've been feeling down- but not all the time, so I thought I'd elaborate on the hard stuff and end on a positive note. True, all this is exhausting and now I can't wait until the magic click of the clock when it hits 7:30 PM, when Sweets goes to bed and I get to read blogs and watch movies and eat unhealthy amounts of Ben&Jerry's. True, I feel as though not only do I not have space left in my schedule for myself or for Rae, but I don't even have space in my brain- I think about Sweets all the time. True, it's hard to try really, really hard and invest your heart in a child who will probably one day leave your home and go back to her birthparents. Especially hard when you're both crazies who decided to do this fostering thing right after getting married, with no time to tell all those loved ones who were there that you're fostering, and many of them now call you because they have heard on the grapevine that there is a little girl in your home and they are excited that "you're adopting!" True, when we started this process, it was partly because I felt I could do a good job at it because of the compassion I felt for many of my outreach clients who are working to get their children back from CPS, and that now I'm struggling to keep that compassion as I mull over Sweets' story and how she came into foster care. True, true, true. But, there is a little girl in my home who calls me mommy, and hugs me when I come and go, and blows me kisses. And today we had such fun together when we opened a package from the mail and used all the paper wrapping making hats and crowns and fans and flowers and all kinds of mystical things. And I think her giggle is the most magical sound- it makes me think of little tinkling bells and bubbles rising up, and I can't quit tickling her just to hear it. And this evening at dinner she asked if mama (Rae) was all done, said "I done, too", and then turned to me and asked "mommy done three?" So, there's that part. That part's good.

Ahhh... silence...

With no clients at work for a few hours, I am having a quiet moment at home. Our messy home. Yeesh, I have got to clean this place up today. It's a mite difficult with a little one. And even more so when we are sick- all three of us have a yucky cold. Yesterday was pretty miserable, but today I think I feel better than Rae and Sweets. Probably because of the stuff I've been shoveling into my system to combat it. Ibuprofen, Dayquil, giant vitamin C tablets, zinc, two homeopathics (ocillococcinum and some bronchial aid syrup), various kinds of herbal tea (Cold Season, echinacea, Breathe Right, Throat Coat- two bags per cup for extra strong tea), and echinacea cough drops. Yessirree, I am covered. It's harder with Sweets, though- all we can really give her is cough syrup and vitamins. She has a doctor's appointment next week, but I don't think she's really sick enough to move it up- this will probably go away in a day or two. But I do intend to ask her pediatrician if we can get some children's vitamin C something in order to help protect her from daycare-colds in the future. That and a miracle drug that will make this child want to eat. How to make a 2-year-old eat? I don't know. We were following the "don't stress, she'll eat when she's hungry" advice, but she really hardly eats anything, and after almost two weeks, I am getting concerned about this. We're planning on replacing her milk with Pediasure in order to pack some more calories and nutrients into her- milk being the one think she does like to put in her tummy. Any other ideas would be appreciated.
Meanwhile, on mommy's end of things, I'm feeling somewhat flattened. It's such a radical change, reducing your time for yourself to a small fraction of what it was. And the crazy emotional ride. And the missing of one's spouse. All complicated by the knowledge that this is not for my child but for someone else's. I'm not into the glorification of parenting, particularly mothering- it's pretty exhausting and frustrating and stressful much of the time. I can't tell if I'm taking it well or not. But, then, she's just so endearing. Ah, well. It's the universal struggle, I suppose.

One week down.

Actually, a week and two days. I meant to write this post before. Things continue to get better here at home, and the new daycare situation seems to be ok. We went to a country fall festival this weekend and had fun rolling pumpkins, eating kielbasa and baked potato, and watching traditional Morris dancers. Rae and I have also been trying to get back in touch and treat ourselves a little bit. Friday, we had takeout and beer and ice cream and rented a floozy romantic comedy. And Saturday night- oh bless my sister and brother-in-law, the best babysitters in the world- we had a date. It was hard not to talk about Sweets, but we did eventually get to other subjects. Like law school. I must be crazy. But, at this point, the question is becoming less and less of whether I will apply to law school, and more one of when. My thoughts are a bit muddled now, though, as we are all a little sick, so I think I'm going to go enjoy the movies I just rented and leave this for another day. G'night.

Dear goddess, I think I might be getting a grip.

A thought keeps recurring to me each day: the only event that could possibly feel akin to this one- accepting a 2-year-old into your life as a first time parent- is getting hit by a bus. Last night, Rae and I started a yoga session together after Sweetie was asleep, and we had to bust up laughing at the first sitting pose- we groaned simultaneously from the sore quads. My goodness, we hurt in so many places now. Sore legs, sore arms, sore back, sore feet. Yeesh. But, I think we have a plan for this little ball of personality. We just got our first information about the circumstances of the reason that placed her and her siblings in care, and it's not good. Imagine how impossible it would be to understand any kind of normal routine if you're a toddler who's spent her life in a car. Combine that lack of routine experiences (meals, baths, bedtime, rules, etc.) with a toddler's sense of the world ("no!"), and combine that with a bright, vocal, and persistent personality, and you've got a little girl who's having a hard time fitting into life. She cannot fit her puzzle piece into the puzzle unless her piece has limits in the right shape. So, we've made ourselves a plan with a daily schedule, and our own set of rules and consequences, and are trying to implement it on the basis of very firm limits combined with tons of love. She might not like it all that much, but at least she's learning (hopefully), and we feel better having more of a plan, as it helps us to be more patient and feel more in control. And the sweetness makes it all worthwhile- of course, I never want her to be upset, but it was nice to be wanted today as she had to leave me for day care.
My Dad also appears to be smitten. When he and my Mom came over to meet Sweetie the other day, we tried to introduce him with his name, but she proclaimed him "Daddy!" anyway. And yesterday he showed up grinning, with two new toys for her (which she loved- I think we need to have him do the toy shopping now), and was disappointed to realize she was still at day care, but said he might come by again later to see her. He also brought a frame for my diploma from last year. My reward, I guess. Ha. Anyway, I called him up later to get his information for CPS so that he can babysit (with Mom, I'm sure) if he wants to. Ah, the joys of spoiling grandchildren! I hope he won't be heartbroken if/when she goes home to her parents- I know I will be- but so far it looks like that won't be happening anytime soon, if at all. The next court date is coming up, and given that they're still living in their vehicle and that they both seem pretty noncommittal, we're pretty sure the judge will continue the case for several months. The biggest trouble with this part of the system is that if the judge sides with the offending parents, which they sometimes do, the decision is usually immediate with little or no transition for the kids (or their foster parents). While we're pretty sure this will not be happening at this court date, it's still a part of the system that doesn't serve the interests of the kids and that stinks.

Self-help 101

Ways in which parenting is making me a better person so far: severe limiting of my Sims addiction, I will be motivated to go to church tomorrow morning, I now get up at 7 am and go to bed earlier, I actually do the dishes after every meal in order to keep up, going to the laundromat today was actually fun for me because I got a break, and who needs the gym when you have a two year old? Ways in which this is driving me crazy: the whine. It all comes down to the whine. I'm trying really hard to not let us become slaves to the whine, but I'm not at all sure we're winning this battle. There's a whine for everything, usually for a thing that is being used as a guise for not doing something else- like eating and bathing and sleeping. The eating is happening on a small scale, but not enough, especially not at mealtime. Bathing is happenning, but with lots of "no" before being plopped in the tub. Sleeping seems to be the biggest battle of all. Sleep is for wimps. Patience for a bedtime story is only found after closing the book and putting her in the crib with no story, followed by lots of whining and screaming and negotiating for every portable thing in her room to be placed in the crib with her, followed by compromise of a story out of the crib but required to stay in the lap of the storyteller with no fuss, else being returned to crib. Gah!!! We're trying to be consistent, but I can't say I really know what to be consistent about. What counts to a two-year-old as motivation to eat and bathe and especially sleep? I do believe it's going to be a while before we figure this thing out.

What have we gotten ourselves into?

She's smart as a whip, cute as a button, totally lovable, and she's definitely two. I picked her up from her previous foster home, worried that she'd be crying all the way home, but there was nary a tear as she helped us put her things in the car and waved goodbye, and she slept all the way home. Which I am mildly regretting now. Tired is good at bedtime. Not tired is not so good. I'm not feeling like such a hot shot at this mom thing on my first night. She barely ate her dinner. Although she ate all the salad off of Rae's plate. Small victories. One big victory, though- she peed on the potty for the first time today! At our house! Woo-hoo! A bath and then bed. Or not bed, as Rae is struggling with now. Ha. I just heard her say to Sweetie, "you are very opinionated." I'd help, but I think it's better if there aren't two of us in the room. Oy. She's a love, though. I can already tell it will be very hard to let her go.

Diving right in.

We are Lynn and Rae, a pair of newlyweds in New England, and today I'm starting this new blog in anticipation of our first foster care placement. We just received our license a few days ago, and will be welcoming our first foster child into our home in just a few more days. During our training, I heard the jokes about getting the call the day you are licensed as a foster parent, but CPS actually asked us to take this little girl two weeks before! We're excited to have this toddler enter our lives and to begin this crazy thing called foster parenting, though we're both still trepedacious. And both still in the midst of our own lives. Rae has just started a new job and is almost halfway to her independent social work license. I'm about to apply for my own license in the field and am thinking about law school. And we're both obsessive real-estate-droolers. Which I suppose is fitting enough, as we are shortly going to become official drool-cleaner-uppers. Holy cow.