Tough Love

Man, I'd love to say that every day is roses and sunshine.  And just live by my highlight reel that appears on Facebook, but today was rough.  Tough love has been tough.

It was our first day of youth sports with our littles.  It was a stressful situation for my two loves in foster and my own youngest daughter, as well as me.  I've never been a fan of chaos, the lights, sounds, all the motion.  Even when my husband and I got married, he told me from the get go, "Our home will be a home of peace."  And for 20 years it has for the most part.  I had my own daughter in tears as she tried to defend a boy in basketball that was much taller than her and his size scared her, along with the fact that the coaches are yelling directions to each kid in the young league, the buzzer is going off each 5-10 minutes for quarters or breaks to end.  Then, my youngest little love looking shell shocked that her moment to play Tiny Tots Basketball had arrived and was not frightened to even try to follow directions from a stranger, even when she had played basketball with my others already.  And my next to youngest little love looking every bit confused and not sure where to look or focus or what to do, generally overwhelmed but the whole experience.

So, after all that, I did manage to get some smiles from them as they got their end of games snacks.  Almost like it was a reward for enduring that hard exercise.  I can only hope that this dive into youth sports gets better.  The time factor was what always held us back with my older teens, but no choice when CPS is forcing your hand to involve them in something like this.

Naps, ahhhh, my moments of joy.  Got a long 4 hour nap in for them all after basketball.  Thank God!

To which we woke, made and ate dinner, then went to the park for some sunset playtime.  And then the chore of shopping with three kids under 7 years old and a teenager.  As tedious as grocery shopping can be, I actually enjoy the task of making the list, marking it out, and preparing the meal list each week.  It speaks to my organized side.  And I'm really good at saying, "No" at the stores to all demands and requests from my group.

It's the last hour of today that has sent me into Tough Love mode.  When I give in and buy the carrots and celery and ranch you ask for, and you eat much of it, and then choose to spit on another's snack, then get removed from the kitchen table without getting to finish your snack.  Or when I then tell you to help push the wet laundry into the dryer, that's all, and you stand there screaming and crying at the top of your lungs without stop.  And I escort you to your bed for the night, and then after 30 minutes of crying and screaming at the top of your lungs in your bed, to which I sincerely hope the neighbor's aren't playing in their pool, where her bedroom window faces, so they won't hear that I'm really not touching or hurting you, you try to come and give me a hug.  Tough Love sucks sometimes.  I can't reward you for misbehaving or screaming.  But I can't also reinforce some weird idea that your love can be earned, because I will love you through the misbehaviors and craziness that has been done to you by others. 

Add to all this, having a sick husband since Basketball this morning, who has slept for now 12 hours straight, minus the 10 minutes he came to the dinner table, looked at it and made himself a grilled cheese and went back to bed. 

I finally leaned against the kitchen sink in exasperation only to realize that both sides are overflowing in dirty dishes, even through the dishwasher is running.  And my teenager is busily creating a masterpiece cookie dough recipe with Christmas music playing.  It's in that moment that I see that I am blessed, even in the craziness.  I'm not perfect, and Thank God for that!  And even though I may look through other's highlight reels on social media, I know they too will have rowdy and disorderly days.

So, to today, I say "Not Today Satan", because I will still praise the Lord in my hot mess of a day.  And I will still apply tough love and love all my kids in all situations.  And forgive me if I sit at the kitchen table and listen to Christmas music in June in Houston, while I eat my slice of apple pie, Nutella cookie that my teen made, and sip on my glass of ice cold Coca-Cola.

My Teen Baker

Confessions of a Foster Mom

Confession #1: Being a foster parent is H-A-R-D.
I had a teacher on my team this year who knew she was moving and selling her home and she would talk about how she had to make sure her home was "model ready" before leaving for school each day because realtors or visitors may come to look.  And all I could think of, having never lived through that, is that's exactly how I feel.  Maybe your gifting is hospitality, and to some degree that's a teacher, has to be, like customer service.  But when those drop in visitors rub you the wrong way, over stay their welcome, put your character or decision making skills into questions routinely, or judge your cleanliness skills (like a light bulb being out and reporting it), you become less like this.  And they keep coming back into your home, your "peaceful place" and disrupting.  They come monthly, they text you, email you, call you, ask questions that you've already answered to another worker, and on and on.  I mean, seriously, can't they just read the monthly reports I legally have to file, or read the group text message chat where I sent them all the info already?  I think I know how to raise a child.  I have 3 of my own biologically.  But I've never had a child who has been hurt or been in trauma like these.  And I have zero experience with making a blended family work.  My better half and I are coming up on 20 years married.  It's a learning curve for sure.

The part that makes my heart hurt is the uncertainty and stress that is displayed in my littles when someone comes into our home monthly, 3 separate visits per month, in the crazy behavior where they run around, act silly and refuse to talk coherently, jump on and off furniture, roll around on the floors.  And when the visitor leaves, they are their normal, settled self again.  I know they don't do it on purpose, but man this is hard reassuring them, reminding them that no one will hurt them here, or that this visitor will not take them away.  Especially that last one, when I don't know for sure, as their case comes near to the end.  I, myself, feel in a state of uncertainty, because I'm "not a party to their case", so how can I reassure them constantly and not feel exhausted from this?

Being a foster parent feels like an invasive procedure, like when I had any of my 3 C-sections where everyone is looking at everything God gave you, and pulling everything apart in surgery to get to the beautiful baby within.  And that's why I have another confession.

Confession #2: Being a foster parent is W-O-R-T-H it.
I say this confession, not because I feel like it sometimes, but as a reminder to myself daily.  Loving someone is a daily choice, that can be easy or hard, but a choice nonetheless.  I've seen my littles come out of their protective shells.  Where once they were afraid of the dark, now are no longer.  Where once they would stiffen and "straight board" you when you had to pick them up to put them in their car seat or do this when unlocking their seat belt that was between their legs, now, not at all.  And when I told them to "Go play!" and they just stared at me like, "What do you want me to do?"  And now when I say that, they run, and play, and laugh, and scream.  That's why I say it's worth it.

Putting yourself and your family out there for strangers to repeatedly judge, critique, invade is something that will make you feel so many emotions, and sometimes within the span of a few minutes.  But while it is hard, it is worth it, if I remember who all this fuss is for.

Interrupting Normal

It's been quite some time since I last wrote a blog post and much has happened in that time.  We officially became a licensed foster home.  We have some littles in our home now.  Hurricane Harvey hit our city, and while we didn't sustain any damage or injury, many, many, many not even 3 miles from us lost everything.  And we have now had 2 snow days for the 2017-2018 school year, something unheard of in H-town.  And I've gone from a Math/Science teacher to just Science (and Writing, if that even counts as a stand alone subject).  Many changes!

You know, we get very comfortable in our routines and life.  There was a long stretch in my marriage, where my husband and I said, "Us four and no more."  And then God blessed us with Beauty #3, six years after Beauty #2.  And for the last seven years, it's been the Windham Five.

For years, my sister talked to us about the possibility of becoming a foster family, and it just didn't seem like a possibility for us financially.  Or at times, with my husband's diabetes, our life seemed unstable and didn't have a rhythm to it.  But, it was like God was speaking to me and saying, "If you wait for the timing to be perfect, then you never will foster or adopt.  There will never be a perfect time."  And God is always right and always right on time!  So, in April 2017, we started on that journey by submitting an application with a child placing agency, started taking the classes, submitting records, etc to get our home ready.  And in October 2017, we officially became a licensed foster home.  It was so exciting for our entire family!  Our kids would share the updates as we went through the process with their Youth pastors, Children's pastors, teachers, family, etc. 

I watched a video recently introducing families to foster care and it said that families usually get into this for 2 reasons: to have a family or to give a kid a family.  For us, it was always, and will always be, to give a kid a family.  I really think that even with all the ups and downs, I have an AMAZING family that any child in trauma could benefit from.  We went into this foster/adopt process looking for a child that needed a home for forever.  Looking for a child that already had parent rights terminated, but would also be a good fit for our family.

So many things that happen to kids, that are reasons they are in care usually, are not something we often think about.  For example, with our 7, 13, and 18 year old girls, a teen boy would not be wise, not any older child who had been sexually abused (as they could possibly act out that same abuse on others), nor kids younger than school age due to child care situations.  You just never think about these things until you are placed into those situations.  But we knew, as we waited, that there was someone that God had for us to love on and care for as a FAMILY.

Our littles came to us though an emergency need for movement and we were linked though Facebook.  A need was voiced, we were tagged in it.  But due to our bedroom situation and their genders, just didn't know if we could help.  A few days passed, many other people responded that they wished they could help, but couldn't, and after 3 days, my husband told me to find out the CPS workers info and see what we could do.  All that to say, that 4 days after we contacted her, they were in our home.  And they have interrupted our normal every day since.  They have shown me the depth of love my family has, and the need for love they have.  There's a saying for teachers that I've often heard, "Those who need love the most, will ask for it in the most unloving ways."  And it fits in their situation to some degree.  Due to their ages and closeness to my own kids, they aggravate each other, just because.  But they also, play and care for each other much too. 

I love how they have shown me things about our Lord through their situation, like how God will never leave or forsake us.  How even when we are so extremely frustrating to God, He doesn't give up!  I've learned that no matter how much I try to steer their case in the direction I want it go, I can't.  I have no control and that's the way God wants us, to leave all control to Him!  I have seen adults disappoint me, promises made and not kept, words used against me.  I've had to explain to doctors what was done to them and have had to explain to the dentist that the color of their teeth, which shows neglect, was not from me.  I've watched their little hearts be broken when visitation is over, and been there to change their clothes when they wet themselves in the dentist office when an overwhelming sedation with restraint happened.  I've held them through tears and been the tough love giver when a temper tantrum starts.  I've also seen the generosity and kindness of foster closets, complete strangers to us, and family helping with new beds, clothes, and mattresses.  This fostering journey has been nothing I've been prepared for, could even have planned for, or imagined.  And at times, when I hope for things to go my way with their case, I also feel guilty for wishing that because it means that their bio parents and family fail.  It's a constant pull on my emotions and heart and strength.  But, I wouldn't have done anything differently.  And no way, could we have said no to having them in our home when a plea was made and not filled. 

Bottom line is our normal has been interrupted because we said YES to what God dropped in my spirit last year.  While the road looks uncertain, unsure, or scary, saying YES to GOD will have an eternal impact.