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It’s been an odd couple of weeks since my last post.  It hurts my brain just to think about it!

1.  Shaun and I went to my high school reunion.  In school, we used to say that no one would show up to our reunion because our class lacked school spirit.  Seriously, the student council didn’t give a rat’s ass and neither did anyone else.  It was 1999 and we were all facing going into college or into the work force with little to no money.

There were maybe 50 people at the reunion and I did see a friend who I’ve known since kindergarten.  We didn’t talk much in high school and I think I found out why.  She made a passing comment while we were catching up that stuck with me.  “Of course you’re doing well, you’ve always been perfect.”

I wonder how many people actually know that’s not true.  I screw up as much as anyone, I just don’t tend to dwell on it or get caught in the downward spiral of screwing up.  I’m not even an eternal optimist – I’m definitely not one of those smiley, cheerful people.  It’s food for thought.

2.  Sick kiddos.  Actually, only one was sick.  The other was faking it.  A had a fever and just laid down and stared at the TV.  Her school has had about 50 different viruses going through it, so we thought it was strep at first.  It wasn’t so it may have been a UTI (just a very small amount of bacteria was in her urine) or it could have just been one of those flu bugs.  She’s all better and back to her goofy, normal self.

3.  Ramping up for the “anniversary effect” of the PTSD.  A goes through the anniversary effect during October.  It seems like every time she had to move foster homes, it was right around Halloween.  That stuck with her.  Last year was TERRIBLE so hopefully this year we’ll be prepared for whatever comes.  I’m already stocking up on aromatherapy stuff and reinforcing the fact that she never has to go anywhere again.  She’s home.  She’s already started to panic a bit so we adjusted her morning medications and that seems to have helped.  We’ve also briefed the school and we’re keeping on them about her mental state – it took a while to get them to take us seriously but now it seems like everyone is on board.

With LJ, we’ve just seen more sexual acting out.  He retreats to this fantasy world inside his head and doesn’t seem to realize what he’s doing.  It’s not regression – it’s more like he’s living in a fairy tale.

He’s been talking a lot about “grandmas.”  His favorite kind of pie is the type grandmas make.  Grandmas make sweaters.  Grandmas take care of you and give you cookies.  Grandmas have white hair, wrinkles, and glasses.  Yesterday, I finally got fed up with it (in Goodwill of all places) and told him that he got his grandmas and they weren’t going to change.  Neither grandma has white hair, neither one knows how to make a scrap of clothing, and one of them couldn’t bake a pie if her life depended on it. In reality, there’s no such thing as a “perfect grandma.”

I grew up without grandparents being an active part of my life.  Neither set approved of my parents’ marriage and we most often just made it on our own.  He did spend a lot of time with his bio-grandparents before he came into state care, so I don’t want to ruin those memories but he’s taking them a little too far.  I don’t want him to get older and see them and realize how bad it was for  him.  They loved him – they just don’t have the skills to take care of themselves, much less a child!

We went through this a month or so after he moved in with regards to his bio father.  It got to the point that I had to sit down with him and ask if he wanted to know the truth of the matter or just continue to believe what he did of his dad.  He said he wanted the truth, so I told him.   I may have to enlist my dad to explain it to him.  My dad’s childhood is very similar to LJ’s and they have this great bond.  I think he’d take the truth better from Dad than from one of us.

4.  Sick mommies.  It’s been odd – very odd.  My grandma was sick for a bit, then my great-grandma passed away almost a week ago.  Then grandma went down to FL to bury g-gma next to g-gpa and she got back yesterday.  My sister has been sick and my mom was for a little bit but recovered very quickly.  Then a couple of days ago I started having a fever and today my throat feels like I swallowed some hot sauce.  I must have gotten that strep that was going around.  *sigh*  So, tomorrow I’ll go to the doctor and get more antibiotics.  I’ve only been off the antibiotics from the surgery for a week!

5.  Flooding.  Lots of it.  We live northeast of Atlanta and thankfully in the foothills of the Appalachians so our land is soggy and puddly, but we didn’t get any water inside the house.  Thank God!  Even 5 miles away houses were destroyed and the traffic accidents have been terrible.  We went to an antique store yesterday – it’s about 7 miles from our house – and on the way home saw two accidents happen. My heart goes out to everyone that lost their homes, cars, and in some cases, families.

6.  Big internet sales!  Since we’ve been home bound from the sick babies and the flood, I’ve been on the internet a TON.  We’ve sold a couple of pipes, sent some lace to Japan, mailed  out 6 books on bookmooch, and I’ve started uploading a ton of stuff to flickr.  I’m working on a pipe resource, so hopefully I’ll have that available soon.  I also want to get some pipe related merchandise up in the Etsy shop, but I’m missing my computer parts.  I’m spending time with a hard drive clock today.

7.  Got LOTS of fabric.  I love Goodwill.  Seriously.  I got a ton of fabric for an average of 30 cents a yard and I also got some bed sheets and pillowcases that I can use.  I found some gorgeous blue eyelet cotton that I was SUPER excited about.  Got some corduroy, some raincoat material, a ton of cotton, and some linen.  It’s going to be fun!

This has been a long, long post lacking in cohesiveness, so I’m going to end it here.  Hopefully I can pick this blogging habit back up so I don’t end up with 300 things going on at once.  Good times!

10 years

Shaun and I have been married for 10 years today!  It’s pretty damn amazing… unless you’re one of the ones who has been there since we met.  It’s always been kinda supernatural for us – not what I’d call soul mates – but instant friends.  It’s like we had a gravity towards each other and worked better as partners than as “one soul in two bodies.”

I dreamed last night of a high school reunion planning meeting.  I’m not one of the organizers, but I see the updates on facebook all the time so it must have been rolling around in my subconscious.  It was me and three girls watching a team of football players finish up their game.  We were talking about how none of us turned out the way we had expected in school.  That our lives were different than we had planned.  Then this one girl, who used to dance in school, came flashing by, holding her hands in a certain way to show off her manicure.  I thought to myself that some people did not evolve with the rest of us…

People make caricatures of the people they are around in their brain.  They are more 2 dimensional than reality and are often false indicators.  It’s easier to attribute certain broad traits to someone in our own brain, which is why at times we are surprised when the person – who is not 2D – acts out of character.

I’m not saying that Shaun and I have complete 3D maps.  We don’t at all.  We just don’t mind being surprised.  It doesn’t happen often anymore but it does happen.  We have assumptions about what the other is thinking and sometimes we have to hash it out to get to the same place.

We have different personalities and different ideas.  At times we frustrate the hell out of each other.  We also compliment each other’s personality.  I’m quick to anger and then after the emotion dies down, I can be very analytical about something.  Shaun is very slow to anger and will put up with almost anything until you push him over the edge, then he’s mad and it takes him time to calm down.  Shaun is a casual social person.  I’m a formal social person.  He’d rather beer and a couch in someone’s home and I’d rather a cocktail on neutral territory (where I didn’t have to clean up.)   Shaun likes an overhead view of problems and issues, and I like details that seem meaningless and unrelated.

We’re a nice fit.  We love each other.  But best of all, we’re partners.

I need to find a better picture but we’ve got the kids’ psychiatrist appt this morning.  Busy, busy!

The Issue of Church, part 2

Following up from part 1, where I probably scared most people into hitting the back button on the first point, here are 5 more points dedicated to unraveling my mental logjam.  I kinda feel sorry for the other 4 points that are forced to share a virtual canvas with point #1.  They don’t get nearly as much attention because their older sister is louder and more controversial.

I promise to be more tame than point #1.  If you couldn’t tell, that’s my most loaded reason and I had to get it out there.  So, hey, if you’re still with me then you’re a pretty cool dude and I think I love you.  Srsly.

6.  I don’t like unconsciously rebel against the idea of “spiritual authority”

I have a spiritual authority.  Really, I do.  I picked him out all by myself at the Spiritual Authority store right next to Sports Authority at the Mall.  His name is Jesus and his last name is Christ and if you’re not Jesus Christ then you are not my spiritual authority.

I have no idea where churches got this stupid idea from that there are people who are “authorities” and we have to submit to them.  Can we say abuse of position and abuse of power?  Hey,  you want to get together on Saturday?  No, I can’t, my spiritual authority said I had to wash her car. Or even worse… “It’s ok if I touch you there, God put me in charge of you.”

It’s like some super-natural parent where not only do you not get to pick who your “authority” is, you must blindly follow in their “classes” regardless of their education or ability to actually maintain some respect.

People who are not my spiritual authority:

1.  My husband (he’s my spiritual PARTNER)

2.  The pastor

3.  The youth group leader

4.  The small group leader

5.  You

People who have legitimate claims to be my spiritual authority:

1.  Jesus & his cohorts in the trinity

2.  My mom

3.  My dad

7.  Churches should be better at therapy than potlucks

“I’ll pray for you” and potato salad have never been enough to get me through an issue.  C’mon people, aren’t you kinda trained to help people?  No… oh, my mistake.

But seriously – why aren’t you?  Why aren’t churches hosting training classes for people to be effective human beings in the world?  By that, I don’t mean “how to save the masses” or any of that evangelical stuff – I mean “recognizing domestic abuse,” “becoming a court appointed advocate for children in the court systems,”  “parenting special needs children.”  You know, stuff that actually has a practical difference in the lives of the people around us.  If our life is made up of our sphere of influence, then why aren’t we making the sphere a better one?

Hey people up there in the pews!  Us people down here in the trenches need help with ministry not evangelizing!  You know – ministering to people.  Church should be in the streets, not inside a building.

8.  There is a thought in the church that people with chronic illnesses must not be good enough Christians

No one is going to plain out say it, but if you have a chronic illness and you don’t get miraculously healed at the prayer meeting – then shut up about the illness.  This is not the case, apparently, for the older church members who have eaten themselves into a triple bypass.

If you have a chronic illness, you are a whiner, complainer, negative, bringing folks down, and basically ruining the illusion that church is a happy place where people eat and get healthy and rich and happy.

That leads right into #9:

9.  Prosperity Theology

How to be good stewards of God’s money and still own that Cadillac.  (really?)  I can’t even get myself to type out why I think this is ridiculous.  This will sum it up.

10.  There’s a point when even the flies are tired of your honeypot

I’m tired of water sweetened with honey and vinegar slipped to you while you’re not paying attention.  Let’s be like Paul and ask for some meat on those ole Christian bones.

The world we live in is one of information overload – the slogans of the 80s aren’t going to get through.  Give us some information!  Original content!  Something thoughtful and heartfelt!  Something that hasn’t been through the corporate spinner and market testing.  Can’t we just get a little truth?

The Issue of Church

I talked to my mom today, just catching up.  We chatted about how in less than a month, I’ll be married for 10 YEARS.  We talked about the husbands and kids and how they were doing and all our recent doctors appts.  We made plans for LJ to spend the night on Sunday.  We talked about E and how he hates to have his hair washed, fixing toilets, and general household stuff.  You know, normal mom & daughter things like we’ve been doing for all the years we haven’t lived in the same house.

Which has been since I married Shaun at 18 because my mother and I can be best friends as long as we don’t live in the same house.  We’re both alpha females and neither of us backs down, so it was prudent for my wish to continue breathing to move out.

Then she did something that hardly ever happens.  She asked if I would mind bringing the kids to their (my mom and my grandma’s) church on Wednesdays for Children’s Church.  Apparently, grandmommy and great-grandmommy are very eager to show off their new additions.  This is fine – it’s absolutely wonderful!  This is what I wanted for the kids – family who was excited and proud to be related to them.

But…  I’ve been avoiding the whole church thing for like 3 years now.  It’s got its own “thing” compartment in my brain for “topics I actively pretend don’t exist.”  It’s not so much the theology, or the ideas, or any of that “stuff” that gets to me.  It’s the leadership (visible and otherwise) whose job it is to “put on church” for the members.

What happens when I think about this is that all my thoughts collide like a train-wreck and my rational decision making skills just give up and let the straight-up emotional part of me go “nope, not thinking about that.  Everyone stop – it’s time to think about… chocolate.  Yes, chocolate.  Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate.”

That’s about how long it takes for me to find something else to think about and the active willful repression continues.  Like just now, I changed the birds’ water, pet a couple of cats, checked on the kids, then went pee.  Only this blog post is keeping me on topic.

Let’s see if we can untangle this train with a list.  That’s nice and rational, right?  Here it goes:

The Top 10 Issues I Have With The Idea of Church

1.  I am firmly pro-choice

This isn’t really so bad as I believe I can respect their ideas while still holding my own beliefs.   Hey, other people have to believe other things otherwise I wouldn’t have anyone to debate with and that wouldn’t be any fun.  The problem comes in when I am (or the beliefs I have are) cordoned off into an “toxic waste section” because they aren’t going to try and CHANGE my mind, they’ll just IGNORE my mind while disassociating themselves from the heresy.

This comes from being about 14 years old and I went to Sunday School with a friend in a church that was a different domination from the one I had been raised with.  Which denominations they were are largely irrelevant.  I learned something very important that day:  Sunday School teachers of small groups have no fear in saying things that even the pastor would not say under his breath in an empty bathroom.

(This line of thought collides into the line of thought where “spiritual authorities” in the church are a bad idea.  Back on topic, though.)

I can tell you right now, that if a SS teacher said to one of my children that “women who have abortions and doctors who perform them are going to burn in hell” in the same lesson as “once saved by Jesus, you are always saved and forgiven” (neither of which I believe is an accurate statement based on the Bible) I would immediately sprout another head and a few more arms…  I don’t have it planned past that, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be pleasant.

I was told that stuff above (seriously, that’s about word for word what was burned into my memory) as a 14 year old because I questioned the teacher on where exactly it said that bullshit in the Bible.  The only thing worse than SS teachers is 14 year old girls that have been indoctrinated by this SS teacher for the past 10 years while being sheltered from the real world by over-indulgent middle class suburban parents.  I understood persecution that day.

It still didn’t change my mind, because even with all the nonsense they flung at me, no one could come up with a reasoned, scriptural answer or anything resembling compassion for women who are in the situation where they have to make a choice.

Also, really, how many of those girls in there went on to adopt the children that were born and then went on to be ignored/abused/neglected.  How many of them are foster parents?  How many of them work with the poor and homeless children whose parents are substance abusers?  How many of them work with the children who have a home, but come to the shelter because it beats going home to a relative’s boyfriend who is likely to abuse them?

Come on, now.  If you’re going to preach a philosophy that says children are sacred and should be protected then actually HAVE A FUCKING PLAN OF WHAT TO DO WITH THIS EXTRA POPULATION AFTER THEY’RE FUCKING BORN!  Because, boy, living in the United States with all these churches and all these kids who have never been helped by a the church who is working so hard on foreign missions work that they forgot all about those kids they insisted not be murdered.  Can’t we just focus on the children that are already here and already in pain?

(I suspect it may take vodka and/or a cigarette to make it through this post without smashing my keyboard.)

2.  I am unable to be a professional pew-warmer

I’ve tried – I really have tried – to just not have feedback for the speaker.  I’ve also tried to have feedback but just keep it to myself.  I really would like to be one of those people who goes to church to enjoy the ambiance and the hugs where your torso doesn’t touch theirs and to shake the pastor’s hand and have a fake conversation with his wife, then the family goes to El Sombrero and talks about local sports teams.

I was almost there once.  Almost!  I had friends that we sat with.  We went to lunch.  We had little faux dinner parties.  Then two things happened:  they had babies, and I didn’t AND I didn’t keep my mouth shut about what I thought about “keep on praying and it will happen.”

After that, I just backed off the whole relationship with people and churches thing and hid in my house and stopped answering the phone.  When I’m really honest with myself, I also realize that one of the friends’ husbands had a problem with my past and that made me very uncomfortable and upset. That leads to #3.

3.  When I get uncomfortable or too close to the “inner circle,” I freak out and back off

This always comes with finding faults, making excuses, and forgetting to charge my phone.  It also comes with not believing other people can help me get through grief or a hard spot or that anyone would even want to.  This is what I refer to as my “spiritual reactive attachment disorder.”

4.  I don’t blend in and I really have no wish to

a.k.a.  “people with tattoos can’t go to heaven” and “Leviticus says tattoos and gays are bad, and I forgot the rest.”

Which leads directly into number 5.

5.  I’m very well educated on the philosophy and belief system I subscribe to

Seriously, if you’ve read the Gospels and the letters of Paul, you’re ahead of probably 50% of the “Christians” sitting in the pews.  My mom is a bible scholar and living in her house, you could not turn around without seeing the scripture taped to the bathroom mirror, the pantry door, the place where you set the car keys near the front door.  She also asks for birthday gifts like “I’d like for you to read the Old Testament for me and write a “sermon” based on something you learned.”  You live with my momma, you learn the Bible.

With my natural curiousity, I’ve read the Bible in at least 7 different translations (The Word on The Street being my favorite) and own approximately 500 books on world faiths and spirituality.  Yes, I’ve read them.  If you do this, you start to see a lot of commonality and realize how people can talk about “one world, one faith.”  Also, combining that thought with the idea that memories and instincts are passed down through mitochondrial DNA, you can see how the world religions share a common mythology.

Anyways, most pastors I’ve met either don’t believe that I’m capable of that amount of thought or are somehow threatened by a young woman having comparable knowledge to what it took them years in seminary to learn.  (Granted, they know more about church history and apologetics than I do.  I haven’t explored that side of theology as much.)

I’ll have to put the next 5 into a part 2.  The kids are hungry and so am I.  I also need to regain my internal center of balance before writing more.

Rising from the ashes

I woke up today headache-free!  Yay!  After a week of waking up with that “it might be a migraine” feeling, I’m actually up and moving.  This last bout of migraines started last weekend on Sunday when we went to Target to get a Wii for the kids.  I don’t know why the electronics department is always 20 degrees hotter than the rest of the store, but I got to feeling like I was going to fall out in the middle of the aisle.  I’m going to blame it on the increased electromagnetic energy coming from all the displays and tell Shaun I can’t window shop for TVs with him because I’m allergic.  What do you think?

On the rising from the ashes idea, it amazes me how many people think my tattoo is some perverted form of the phoenix, because it’s a flaming bird pointing DOWN.  The common thread seems to be that I think I’m on the fast road to hell… um… or something.

It’s actually the Pentecost Dove.  It has nothing to do with the phoenix other than the fire part.  Acts 2:1-4 from the Message Remix -

When the Feast of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place.  Without warning there was a sound like a strong wind, gale force – no one could tell where it came from.  It filled the whole building.  Then, like a wild-fire, the Holy Spirit spread through their ranks, and they started speaking in a number of different languages as the Spirit prompted them.

From the NIV:

When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.

It goes on “wow, everyone is like wtf?”  then in verse 13 it says “other joked that they were drunk on cheap wine.”

Oh, ok.  The dove is the Holy Spirit and it’s on fire because of the tongues of fire that set men to testify in other languages.  Got it.

Here’s where I get universal WTF?  Behind the dove, the tattoo says ARSON.  Arson is the first crime the HS committed on Earth at Pentecost.

I live in the Bible belt, so the reactions go something like this:  THE HOLY SPIRIT DOES NOT COMMIT CRIMES, BLASPHEMER!

Um, yeah, actually social disobedience is a crime and was a crime especially in first century Rome.  Jesus wasn’t the only Jew crucified during that time period.  The crosses lined the streets and people who were in the secret cult of Christianity could be executed without a trial.  Many people were.  To flagrantly go out with flaming beacons and declaring in every language that you were a member of this cult and hey, you should be too, was a crime punishable by death.

There are many places in the world that you would be shot on the street for being openly Christian.  Americans and Europeans have it so easy these days – they don’t have to think about risking their lives for a belief system. They just believe because their parents believed and that’s how they were raised.  They’ve never faced persecution and fear of death.  They walk around in their snarky t-shirts from Lifeway with their cross rings and necklaces, toting their Bible in a cutesy cover and scorn people who don’t go to church on Sunday.  They listen to Christian radio and only know gospel songs.  We have entire generations of idealists who have never confronted the gray areas of life without dismissing it with a “tut, tut, that’s bad.”  The closest they’ve come is reading The Voice of the Martyrs.

It’s arson because the HS set men’s hearts and tongues on fire for God with a unlimited potential for spreading.  Fire spreads where it finds fuel and it can’t be contained once it’s let loose.  It’s purposefully set with the idea that once it gets going, it’s gonna do a lot of damage before it can be put out.

If we’re all little candles with little lights that shine a little, then the Holy Spirit was the proverbial napalm bomb, except no one yelled GRENADE! before it hit.  Think of all the sayings that have to do with fire:  light a fire under someone’s ass.  Burning up with an emotion.  On fire for a cause.  I’ll show you light if I have to burn the whole city down.  (Fallout Boy reference) and then what actually inspired this train of thought:  We are the arsons who start all of your fires.  We are the arsons burning your city down.  (Glass to the Arson by Anberlin)

I love symbology and theology, if you can’t tell, and this tattoo just fit me.  Since I’ve gotten it, my husband has too and we are constantly asked about them.  I’m not looking to evangelize through my body art but I am looking to show off my “stained glass” in my temple.  Sometimes you have to shock people out of their comfort zones so that they’ll be ready to go out and look it up on their own.

The only two people who have automattically understood it were a women who was raised Catholic and a Lutherin.  Everyone else goes for the perverted phoenix or thinks that I like to go around starting fires in real life.  It’s fun to educate Christians on their own religion.

If you want to go hardcore with pissing off people in the Bible belt, tell them that you can prove Jesus probably had a small penis.  That gets em going EVERY time.  Don’t believe me?  Read the prophecies about Jesus in Isaiah.

5 things you need before fostering

Now that we’ve adopted from the foster system, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about how things went.  I feel almost like I’m doing a post-mortem on a big project – sort of an analytical autopsy.  There are things I wish we had done differently and things we did right.  There are pieces of advice that were given to us that I treasured and held onto during the two years of chaos.  There are things I learned the hard way and things I’m still learning in a not so easy manner.

Starting with the most important:

1.  Be comfortable with your stance on God.

I’m not a religious person but I am a very spiritual person.  I’ve read the Bible in 7 different translations, written and published articles on faith and spirituality, and on the whole spent a lot of time learning about God.  Over the ‘infertile years’ I learned how to be angry at God and I learned that a lot of the psalms are about praising God when you’re so mad at Him you can spit.

When you foster children – your faith in not only humanity but in God gets shaken.  Badly.  I knew intellectually that these bad things happened.  When a child in my house went through the aftershocks of the trauma, it got personal.  There were nights I sat up all night reliving what I had been told.

Fostering WILL shake your faith.  It will.  If you don’t know what you believe before you get shaken, you’re gonna have a rough time.

2.  Come to terms with why you are fostering.

For us, it was infertility and the incredible need to have children.  I don’t think I’ve come to terms with it yet but learning to love this kids is harder than I imagined.  I thought it would be instant – like the attachment to God’s little angels would be overwhelming.  It’s not like that.  Even after two years I’m still learning to love them for WHO they are.  It made me wonder about my reasons for fostering – was I in it to give kids love that they’ve never had before or am I in this because of the pain I felt at not being able to reproduce?

I’m having to grieve that I don’t know what my children looked like as babies.  I don’t know what their first word was.  I don’t know what colors they were attracted to or what baby food they liked.  These children are such a big part of me, but they still aren’t from me.  You have to grieve that loss.  You have to grieve whatever happened in your life that makes you able to be a good foster parent.

3.  Love is not enough.

If you think an emotion will get you through this – it won’t.  It will always be there in some form but you’re gonna need logic, training, support, sheer cunning and a whole lot of willpower.  At times you will have to be coldly logical in order to reach these kids who don’t understand natural consequences or for the kids who are acting out just to provoke you into an emotional act.

There are times you have to be so creative it will shock you and everyone around you.  There are times I felt like one of those psychiatrists on TV – getting into the kids head to figure out what made them tick.  My daughter would pee her pants just so she could change clothes and the only thing that stopped her from doing it was to pack the ugliest pair of sweatpants I could find in her daycare bag.  She didn’t mind smelling like pee but she cares about having on ugly pants.

And fair warning – there will be times when you give a serious thought to sending them back into the system.  They will do things that you never even thought about and have no idea how to respond to.  There are moments you will no longer be a sane, rational adult.  There are times – lots of them – where you have to send yourself to time out just so you can cool down enough to think.  There are situations that if you hadn’t discussed them in IMPACT class, you would be totally lost on.  There are times you call the caseworker and ask “what do I do?  This is crazy and I have no idea what to do.”

4.  Learn to accept loss as a human condition.

Every relationship ends.  Every relationship that doesn’t end in death, ends in break-up.  Foster kids know this VERY well.  You need to learn this too as most people who have lived a stable life and live the stable life these children need do not know this yet.

You have to learn this, be willing to grieve and cry with the kids, and then live life in spite of it.  You can’t let loss cripple you and you can’t let the FEAR of loss affect your relationship with the kids.

If you were one of the infertiles who moved on to adoption, you are very well acquainted with the fear of loss.  I can’t tell you how many times I sat in the bathroom floor crying my eyes out because I was so afraid I was going to lose these kids too.  I hear people say all the time “I couldn’t foster children because it would hurt me too badly if they left.”  You know what?  It does hurt.  It hurts a lot.  Don’t let the fear of that pain stop you.  Humans are capable of living through a lot of torment but if you focus on making every moment you have with these kids happy and productive, you will make a difference in their lives.

5.  You’re going to have to fight for everything for the kids.

Whether it’s paperwork, a teacher being fair to the kids, services the kids need… you’re gonna be up for a fight.  Don’t fight fair – your opponents won’t.  You’re going to deal with lost paperwork, destroyed files, lazy beurocrats, and even sheer incompetence.

Don’t be afraid to work your way through the system and then if it doesn’t work, go outside it.  I found that emailing the governor was the most productive thing I ever did in getting the kids moved on the road to adoption.  In the school system, I called the county’s head of special education.  I’ve called hospital administrators looking for medical files.  I’ve scoured the internet, emailed hundreds of people, and pushed until I got what I wanted.  My kids are going to know their history, by God!

Don’t forget during all of this to document everything.  Buy a cheap copy machine and copy everything for a file for the kids to have when they reach maturity.  The system is supposed to have this for them when they reach 18, but we’ve already talked about lost files.  Also, documenting everything will cover your own ass when it comes to people making allegations against you.  Don’t just be proactive, be over-reactive.

For a different kind of fight – teachers in the schools will discriminate against your child because they are in the system.  I don’t know who started spreading the idea that foster kids equal bad kids, but it’s out there.  Teachers are not above gossip, either.  I’m not saying don’t tell the teacher anything, but expect to get up in some faces.  If you’re in the office once a week talking to the principal and counselor, the teachers will be much less likely to act out against your kids.

The rest of parenting foster kids really is just providing a stable and loving home.  You’ll be pushed but keep moving and keep thinking and keep working.  If you like an easy life, then don’t even bother signing up for classes.  If you’re looking for a challenge and regular life bores you, then there are plenty of kids out there waiting for you.