When someone kicks in your door at the home that you have lived at for 3 months... steals your jewelry box with cherished memories in it, your laptop with all of your upcoming wedding information on it, your camera with important pictures of your kiddo on it and a watch collection of your partners that is one of the only nice things she has.
Needless to say, I didn't sleep well last night and I feel like I am on the edge of a panic attack. Thank God for Traci. She is my protector.
Back to researching 1) security systems 2) new homes 3) German Shepards 4) new jobs in a safer community.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Thursday, January 3, 2013
8 months old
Our Bean has made it to 8 months on this earth and about 7 months of being with us. There are things that I want to remember to tell her- answers to questions that I am sure she will have when she is older. But most of all, when she is going through tough times trying to figure out where she came from and who she is, I want her to look back and just know how much T-Ma and Mama love her... and that.. without one doubt we want her with us.
What if she asks what her mom did? Where she is? What happened to her?
Dear Bean- your birth mom loved you enough to be as healthy as she could be for her pregnancy, she went to a hospital to give birth to you and loved you enough to put you in this cute pink shirt (I have a picture that I took from BM's facebook of her in the hospital). She left you in the care of the safest people she knew- the workers of the group home- while she took care of some things on her own. When your birth mom was ready to come back, she did. We would bundle you up and and she and you would visit...she even had your grandpa come to some visits to meet you. Between the time you started to live with us and Christmas (8 months) your birth mom made some decisions that weren't the best. She struggled. She left again.
Your birth mom had a life that we don't really understand. She is young and trying to figure out herself.. she has a lot of lessons to learn that she had to do on her own.
But you see, Bean, I thank your birth mom for loving you. For stepping away when she had to and keeping you in safe places. It is sad to me that she wont know your beautiful 8 month smile, your amazing hugs with the lightning bolts of energy that I have never felt from a baby.. your infectious giggle. What joy you are to us, Bean. You keep your T-Ma and I on our toes and can't wait to watch you grow even more. So, lovely baby, your birth mom, in our eyes, made the decisions she had to make to bring you to us. We will do our best to be by your side as you figure out your life's direction and we will make sure that you know you are loved unconditionally.
8 month highlights:
You have 5 teeth and another is on it's way! You sleep through most nights... and MAN you let us know when you are tired. You have a set of lungs on you, angel. You don't like when T-Ma or I are out of your site. You want to be held or at least in arms reach at all times. We don't mind. Soon there will be a time when you wont want anything to do with us- so we soak it up. You love music. Any kind! You love jump-jump-jumping when we hold on to you.. and it is inevitable that you will be jumping on our laps, then, as if a switch was flipped, you will giggle, crinkle your face up and scoop in for a squealing hug. We love it!!! It makes up for all of the screaming that I mentioned before. You were a real trooper for your first Christmas as you nursed an ear infection that we didn't discover until the day AFTER Christmas. Poor girl :(. We promise to do better next time. You see, we are kind of new at this, too. Granted, we had PB, but he was a boy and apparently boys are carefree. You, our little Bean, are a diva in training. We are sure of it.
What if she asks what her mom did? Where she is? What happened to her?
Dear Bean- your birth mom loved you enough to be as healthy as she could be for her pregnancy, she went to a hospital to give birth to you and loved you enough to put you in this cute pink shirt (I have a picture that I took from BM's facebook of her in the hospital). She left you in the care of the safest people she knew- the workers of the group home- while she took care of some things on her own. When your birth mom was ready to come back, she did. We would bundle you up and and she and you would visit...she even had your grandpa come to some visits to meet you. Between the time you started to live with us and Christmas (8 months) your birth mom made some decisions that weren't the best. She struggled. She left again.
Your birth mom had a life that we don't really understand. She is young and trying to figure out herself.. she has a lot of lessons to learn that she had to do on her own.
But you see, Bean, I thank your birth mom for loving you. For stepping away when she had to and keeping you in safe places. It is sad to me that she wont know your beautiful 8 month smile, your amazing hugs with the lightning bolts of energy that I have never felt from a baby.. your infectious giggle. What joy you are to us, Bean. You keep your T-Ma and I on our toes and can't wait to watch you grow even more. So, lovely baby, your birth mom, in our eyes, made the decisions she had to make to bring you to us. We will do our best to be by your side as you figure out your life's direction and we will make sure that you know you are loved unconditionally.
8 month highlights:
You have 5 teeth and another is on it's way! You sleep through most nights... and MAN you let us know when you are tired. You have a set of lungs on you, angel. You don't like when T-Ma or I are out of your site. You want to be held or at least in arms reach at all times. We don't mind. Soon there will be a time when you wont want anything to do with us- so we soak it up. You love music. Any kind! You love jump-jump-jumping when we hold on to you.. and it is inevitable that you will be jumping on our laps, then, as if a switch was flipped, you will giggle, crinkle your face up and scoop in for a squealing hug. We love it!!! It makes up for all of the screaming that I mentioned before. You were a real trooper for your first Christmas as you nursed an ear infection that we didn't discover until the day AFTER Christmas. Poor girl :(. We promise to do better next time. You see, we are kind of new at this, too. Granted, we had PB, but he was a boy and apparently boys are carefree. You, our little Bean, are a diva in training. We are sure of it.
Friday, December 14, 2012
There is always a part 2.
Peanut Butter's caseworker contacted us and to let us know she was given a picture of PB's first birthday to pass along to us.
We received it in the mail.
It was good to see him smiling... and of course, we couldn't help but think that he would be smiling BIGGER with us. It is a foster parent sickness, I am sure-- to think that the kids would be better with you.
I attempted to contact BM (as I was told that she has been trying to email me) and I finally got a response, "Ur nuts. Leave us ALONE".
Ouch. That stung.
I forget she has mental illness. I forget that she isn't OKAY. I suppose I just want to believe so bad that she IS okay, as I don't want PB to be raised by a wacky mom.
It was my fault for giving her the benefit of the doubt.
So, I attempted to reach out to the case worker to see what the heck was going on-- and why I am getting so many mixed signals. Of course, she did not respond. Why did I think she would?
In the systems eyes, we are just glorified babysitters. Even though we commit our lives to these kids, we care for them day in and day out.. take them to doctors, visits, hospitals..we are up in the night, we are the faces they know. They are our lives. But yet.. in the eyes of "the system" we don't deserve explanations or responses. This is, no doubt, one of the hardest things about being a foster parent. One that I can't get used to... that I don't think ANY foster parent should get used to. We deserve a voice.
So. In the eyes of a mentally unstable woman, I am nuts. Ohhh JOY.
We are ready to adopt Bean. I want to be done. We belong to a facebook group for foster parents and this week has been full of announcements of adoptions and TPR's and stories of wonderful relationships between BM's and foster parents.
I am ready for it to be our turn. Bean's BM is still on the run. She has made it completely obvious that she doesn't want anything to do with Bean.. so lets move forward.
In other news... holy crap it is almost Christmas and I have not purchased one gift.
We received it in the mail.
It was good to see him smiling... and of course, we couldn't help but think that he would be smiling BIGGER with us. It is a foster parent sickness, I am sure-- to think that the kids would be better with you.
I attempted to contact BM (as I was told that she has been trying to email me) and I finally got a response, "Ur nuts. Leave us ALONE".
Ouch. That stung.
I forget she has mental illness. I forget that she isn't OKAY. I suppose I just want to believe so bad that she IS okay, as I don't want PB to be raised by a wacky mom.
It was my fault for giving her the benefit of the doubt.
So, I attempted to reach out to the case worker to see what the heck was going on-- and why I am getting so many mixed signals. Of course, she did not respond. Why did I think she would?
In the systems eyes, we are just glorified babysitters. Even though we commit our lives to these kids, we care for them day in and day out.. take them to doctors, visits, hospitals..we are up in the night, we are the faces they know. They are our lives. But yet.. in the eyes of "the system" we don't deserve explanations or responses. This is, no doubt, one of the hardest things about being a foster parent. One that I can't get used to... that I don't think ANY foster parent should get used to. We deserve a voice.
So. In the eyes of a mentally unstable woman, I am nuts. Ohhh JOY.
We are ready to adopt Bean. I want to be done. We belong to a facebook group for foster parents and this week has been full of announcements of adoptions and TPR's and stories of wonderful relationships between BM's and foster parents.
I am ready for it to be our turn. Bean's BM is still on the run. She has made it completely obvious that she doesn't want anything to do with Bean.. so lets move forward.
In other news... holy crap it is almost Christmas and I have not purchased one gift.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
learning about yourself through fostering
As foster parents in this state, we have to take 23402 classes every two years. After taking a handful of them, I am realizing how much stuff it would have been nice to know BEFORE fostering or during the time when Peanut Butter left. During class I tend to be "that person" who puts their hand up anytime the leader asks a question, rhetorical or not.
I practically feel the stares and eyerolls. Oh - we are all stuck here for 3 hours- suck it up, buttercups. I always have something interesting or meaningful to say, anyways.
Half way during the classes that I have taken with Traci she has turned towards me and said "maybe we should get another kiddo".
Uhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmokay?
We have been waffling for awhile. Kid no kid.Kid..no..kid..
These classes bring something out in us. I really think that is what they are meant for. Have some awesome hippy dippy all lovin' foster parents and leaders up in front of you telling everyone how awesome all their kids are and how they work with the parents and change laws and set people straight and make the kids 23043 times better, smarter, stronger than what they were when they came into their homes.
You can do it, too!!!
yesyesyesyes. Weeee CAN!
hold up.
No. We can't.
We are REALLY good parents of ONE child. We have discussed this.
.... and that is where we begin to question everything...
This last class was a doozy. We weighed pros and cons, we have emailed friends, case workers etc etc. Then last night Traci and I sat down at the kitchen table and talked. No emotions. Bean sleeping. Quiet.
We are really good parents to one kid.
The end.
If Peanut Butter comes into our lives.. then we will be really good parents to two (again) .. but that is the only situation.
With that decided we also have been having good talks about Peanut Butter and his BM. We have been learning a lot about ourselves through this process. What we are capable of and what we WANT from this journey. To grow our family and to help kids.
We have decided to be "there" for Peanut Butter and his mom when they need us. We have decided to see him... if she will allow us to. In my heart of hearts I know that she is doing a great job with him. Is it everything that WE would be doing with him? Probably not. Is she using a different parenting style than us? Probably. That doesn't mean she is a bad mom. Since she has had him she seems to be doing everything she is supposed to be doing AND staying up to date with everything that they ask her to do with her other kids. That is a big deal for a single mom. I do need to give her credit for that, as I would probably be curled up somewhere.
I got an email from the CW today that she went to see PB and BM and she sent a picture of his first birthday for us. I am treating that as a sign.
I don't know if this is the RIGHT thing to do.. but right at this moment it feels like the right THING to do. I think, because of what we were told by the agencies, we had ideas about BM in our heads that weren't as horrible as they actually were because wanted to KEEP PB. We wanted to make her out to be the worst person ever...
Was she?
Well... no. I don't think she IS the worst person ever. I was thinking about it the other day. She gave birth. Went home alone to an empty apartment that was all set up for her newborn... and the VERY NEXT DAY got up, took an hour long bus ride and came to his doctor appointment. I should have given her props right then and there instead of trying to figure out what she was doing wrong.
Could I have done that after having my child taken from my arms, had no family even visit me in the hospital and then had to take a transport bus home.. by myself? I don't know that I could have.
Now that we have another BM to compare her to... she did SO MUCH right.
So did we.
Now maybe we can work together to (help) raise this boy to be the best he can be.
Maybe. Hopefully.
I practically feel the stares and eyerolls. Oh - we are all stuck here for 3 hours- suck it up, buttercups. I always have something interesting or meaningful to say, anyways.
Half way during the classes that I have taken with Traci she has turned towards me and said "maybe we should get another kiddo".
Uhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmokay?
We have been waffling for awhile. Kid no kid.Kid..no..kid..
These classes bring something out in us. I really think that is what they are meant for. Have some awesome hippy dippy all lovin' foster parents and leaders up in front of you telling everyone how awesome all their kids are and how they work with the parents and change laws and set people straight and make the kids 23043 times better, smarter, stronger than what they were when they came into their homes.
You can do it, too!!!
yesyesyesyes. Weeee CAN!
hold up.
No. We can't.
We are REALLY good parents of ONE child. We have discussed this.
.... and that is where we begin to question everything...
This last class was a doozy. We weighed pros and cons, we have emailed friends, case workers etc etc. Then last night Traci and I sat down at the kitchen table and talked. No emotions. Bean sleeping. Quiet.
We are really good parents to one kid.
The end.
If Peanut Butter comes into our lives.. then we will be really good parents to two (again) .. but that is the only situation.
With that decided we also have been having good talks about Peanut Butter and his BM. We have been learning a lot about ourselves through this process. What we are capable of and what we WANT from this journey. To grow our family and to help kids.
We have decided to be "there" for Peanut Butter and his mom when they need us. We have decided to see him... if she will allow us to. In my heart of hearts I know that she is doing a great job with him. Is it everything that WE would be doing with him? Probably not. Is she using a different parenting style than us? Probably. That doesn't mean she is a bad mom. Since she has had him she seems to be doing everything she is supposed to be doing AND staying up to date with everything that they ask her to do with her other kids. That is a big deal for a single mom. I do need to give her credit for that, as I would probably be curled up somewhere.
I got an email from the CW today that she went to see PB and BM and she sent a picture of his first birthday for us. I am treating that as a sign.
I don't know if this is the RIGHT thing to do.. but right at this moment it feels like the right THING to do. I think, because of what we were told by the agencies, we had ideas about BM in our heads that weren't as horrible as they actually were because wanted to KEEP PB. We wanted to make her out to be the worst person ever...
Was she?
Well... no. I don't think she IS the worst person ever. I was thinking about it the other day. She gave birth. Went home alone to an empty apartment that was all set up for her newborn... and the VERY NEXT DAY got up, took an hour long bus ride and came to his doctor appointment. I should have given her props right then and there instead of trying to figure out what she was doing wrong.
Could I have done that after having my child taken from my arms, had no family even visit me in the hospital and then had to take a transport bus home.. by myself? I don't know that I could have.
Now that we have another BM to compare her to... she did SO MUCH right.
So did we.
Now maybe we can work together to (help) raise this boy to be the best he can be.
Maybe. Hopefully.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Aunt Shmant.
Previously I mentioned that our little bean's great aunt (aka "support person to BM") came forward and wants this little nugget. 212 breakdowns later, unanswered emails from her caseworker and GAL, I finally got an email from my licencing worker stating that "dunno if you heard or not.. but that aunt hasn't returned any of CW's phone calls".
Letmethinkabouthtat.nope.haven't heard.
*exhale*
For a moment I let my guard down, praised God, and put that guard right back up.
I am so thankful for that. She belongs with us. Peanut Butter has a mom who is nutty but is, at least, trying. Bean has a bunch of prostitutes and gang members as family members.. minus her dad.. who I think, from his death bead, is trying to "right" his life.
Oh.. and BM is AWOL again.
She was gone within 3 days of release from juvie. Is it just me, or are her actions kind of loud and clear? I am almost sure she has forgotten she even has a child. On her facebook she has been friending
strippers in Atlanta. Maybe she will hightail it to a warmer climate come her 18th birthday. Or now. Whatever.
My dear friend asked me this morning if Traci and I were done with fostering. Without hesitating I said "yes". I want Bean to be ours. I want to adopt her. I want to be done with the foster care system. There is no doubt about it. I think I will morn the connections that I have made through this foster journey.. but I am so done with being a parent that has to "check in" at every turn. I want to, without a second thought, make plans for the future without having to ask a caseworker. I give props to the families who continue to help these kids time after time... without question. I simply cannot handle the heartache and foster care induced stress. It is truly one of those things that by telling you what we go through with the foster care system will never live up to what we actually GO THROUGH with the foster care system. The blessing with Bean is that her mom is not REALLY in the picture. The only time that she has seen her while NOT being locked up was for about... 3 hours... about.... 4 months ago (roughly). With Peanut Butter we had to deal with his mom every.single.day. .. the lies, the running around, the constant phone calls and emails from the CW's saying "she said this.. she said that"... Barf.
Maybe the answer would be different if I was a stay at home mom, or only worked part time. But, as it is, dealing with The Man and working 45 hours a week AND raising a child on top of it-- it's just too much. I am ready for a life of care-free living... or something at least resembling it.
Bean did wonderful over Thanksgiving. We went up to Traci's moms place. I adore her family. They are all so down to earth and funny. We had lots of laughs.
Man.. so much to be thankful for.
Letmethinkabouthtat.nope.haven't heard.
*exhale*
For a moment I let my guard down, praised God, and put that guard right back up.
I am so thankful for that. She belongs with us. Peanut Butter has a mom who is nutty but is, at least, trying. Bean has a bunch of prostitutes and gang members as family members.. minus her dad.. who I think, from his death bead, is trying to "right" his life.
Oh.. and BM is AWOL again.
She was gone within 3 days of release from juvie. Is it just me, or are her actions kind of loud and clear? I am almost sure she has forgotten she even has a child. On her facebook she has been friending
strippers in Atlanta. Maybe she will hightail it to a warmer climate come her 18th birthday. Or now. Whatever.
My dear friend asked me this morning if Traci and I were done with fostering. Without hesitating I said "yes". I want Bean to be ours. I want to adopt her. I want to be done with the foster care system. There is no doubt about it. I think I will morn the connections that I have made through this foster journey.. but I am so done with being a parent that has to "check in" at every turn. I want to, without a second thought, make plans for the future without having to ask a caseworker. I give props to the families who continue to help these kids time after time... without question. I simply cannot handle the heartache and foster care induced stress. It is truly one of those things that by telling you what we go through with the foster care system will never live up to what we actually GO THROUGH with the foster care system. The blessing with Bean is that her mom is not REALLY in the picture. The only time that she has seen her while NOT being locked up was for about... 3 hours... about.... 4 months ago (roughly). With Peanut Butter we had to deal with his mom every.single.day. .. the lies, the running around, the constant phone calls and emails from the CW's saying "she said this.. she said that"... Barf.
Maybe the answer would be different if I was a stay at home mom, or only worked part time. But, as it is, dealing with The Man and working 45 hours a week AND raising a child on top of it-- it's just too much. I am ready for a life of care-free living... or something at least resembling it.
Bean did wonderful over Thanksgiving. We went up to Traci's moms place. I adore her family. They are all so down to earth and funny. We had lots of laughs.
Man.. so much to be thankful for.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
I wonder if they sell motivation on Ebay?
There must be some sort of special pill. I need it. For a good portion of my work day I simply sit here fake working.
Man. I hope someone from work doesn't run across this blog.
But I am sure they wont. They are more of the "where is ladies night on Tuesday-Milwaukee" googling type. Oh great. Now they are going to google THAT and this blog will pop up. Oh well.
I used to love doing my job. Now I sit in an office alone, and I am my own boss. That sucks. I mean. It is great. No. It isn't. It sucks. I want to be out thheerrreee.... ----> with everyone else.. laughing about od'ing on NyQuil and pooping your pants... or.. having to pee so bad on your way back from up-nort that you had to pull over and pee in a farmers field *. We are VERY professional here.
I don't mind the un-professionalness of it all, as I visit customers at their offices and I walk in and it is soooo quiet that I immediately regret wearing shoes that make farting noises when I walk... as you could hear a pin drop. Then there are the sassy employees that have a radio playing softly in their cubicle. Rule benders. That kind of environment would put me over the freaking edge. That would mean no more diet coke.... I burp! No more chewing gum.... I wouldn't be able to blow bubbles! No more fried chicken at my desk... (actually- I just overheard that phrase said in my office).
So yeah, I need to find my motivation. I need this crazy ass completely politically incorrect workplace. It feeds my soul.
Tomorrow I will try multivitamins. Hopefully they will give me energy instead of just making me constipated.
* = very true former conversations in the office.
Man. I hope someone from work doesn't run across this blog.
But I am sure they wont. They are more of the "where is ladies night on Tuesday-Milwaukee" googling type. Oh great. Now they are going to google THAT and this blog will pop up. Oh well.
I used to love doing my job. Now I sit in an office alone, and I am my own boss. That sucks. I mean. It is great. No. It isn't. It sucks. I want to be out thheerrreee.... ----> with everyone else.. laughing about od'ing on NyQuil and pooping your pants... or.. having to pee so bad on your way back from up-nort that you had to pull over and pee in a farmers field *. We are VERY professional here.
I don't mind the un-professionalness of it all, as I visit customers at their offices and I walk in and it is soooo quiet that I immediately regret wearing shoes that make farting noises when I walk... as you could hear a pin drop. Then there are the sassy employees that have a radio playing softly in their cubicle. Rule benders. That kind of environment would put me over the freaking edge. That would mean no more diet coke.... I burp! No more chewing gum.... I wouldn't be able to blow bubbles! No more fried chicken at my desk... (actually- I just overheard that phrase said in my office).
So yeah, I need to find my motivation. I need this crazy ass completely politically incorrect workplace. It feeds my soul.
Tomorrow I will try multivitamins. Hopefully they will give me energy instead of just making me constipated.
* = very true former conversations in the office.
Monday, November 5, 2012
What is wrong with this picture?
The house is quiet.. Bean is asleep.. I am alone in the living room sitting in the dark... a fire in the fireplace.. and football on the tv.
I can't find the remote. And by "find" what I really mean is that it is located somewhere out of my immediate reach.
At this very moment, outside of my slimy cleavage, I am feeling pretty good. We now are able to lay Bean down for sleep, she cries for usually around 3 minutes and then she is sleeping. That means that Traci and I can talk, watch a show, or cuddle in bed. It has been enjoyable. The house is starting to feel like home and we are settling in quite nicely.
You caught that about the slimy cleavage, didn't you? I should add that it is starting to itch, too.
This morning I stopped at the 7-11 for a cup of the worst coffee in town and decided to get a "delivered every day" (by what I am thinking is a semi truck that delivers shitty bakery to 7-11's daily) glazed donut. Like every good fat girl, I ate it as I was driving so no one in the office would know I had a glazed donut and didn't buy them one. So. I was eating it, driving, talking on my phone and putting my contacts in. That's a lie. I already had my glasses on. Anyways, as I was eating.. all the glaze fell down my shirt into my cleavage. I tried to get it out, but it was already melting. I got to work and got sucked into the craziness that was Monday morning... and I forgot about it. Until now, when I started itching and felt the melty glazed stickiness.
I would share it with Traci, but she is diabetic.
Oh. And Bean now has an aunt that is stepping forward and wants her.
Eff that.
I wonder if we have any marshmallows to roast?
I can't find the remote. And by "find" what I really mean is that it is located somewhere out of my immediate reach.
At this very moment, outside of my slimy cleavage, I am feeling pretty good. We now are able to lay Bean down for sleep, she cries for usually around 3 minutes and then she is sleeping. That means that Traci and I can talk, watch a show, or cuddle in bed. It has been enjoyable. The house is starting to feel like home and we are settling in quite nicely.
You caught that about the slimy cleavage, didn't you? I should add that it is starting to itch, too.
This morning I stopped at the 7-11 for a cup of the worst coffee in town and decided to get a "delivered every day" (by what I am thinking is a semi truck that delivers shitty bakery to 7-11's daily) glazed donut. Like every good fat girl, I ate it as I was driving so no one in the office would know I had a glazed donut and didn't buy them one. So. I was eating it, driving, talking on my phone and putting my contacts in. That's a lie. I already had my glasses on. Anyways, as I was eating.. all the glaze fell down my shirt into my cleavage. I tried to get it out, but it was already melting. I got to work and got sucked into the craziness that was Monday morning... and I forgot about it. Until now, when I started itching and felt the melty glazed stickiness.
I would share it with Traci, but she is diabetic.
Oh. And Bean now has an aunt that is stepping forward and wants her.
Eff that.
I wonder if we have any marshmallows to roast?
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