Weary.

 

Things have been a bit quiet here at the blog as of late.

Not so much in real life.  Which is why I’ve been so silent.  I have had about 500 things I would have liked to blog about.  But I was probably cleaning up vomit.

 

Life has bewildered me lately.  I can think of no better word than weary to describe the state of my soul two days ago.

 

For some reason, I began to let all of the ups and downs, ins and outs (of partially digested food, that is), and free-falls of Bella’s case to wear me out.  I think I began to allow them to wear me out much earlier than I would like to admit, and it all just piled up in my soul, just leaving me feeling incapable of dealing with it.

 

It was a mixture of the puke, the lice (again, and again), the increase, decrease, and sometimes cancellation of visits, the treatments and appointments for Bella’s disease,  the searing pain that I see ravaging my little girl’s heart, and all of the behaviors that go along with said pain (which have only increased.).  And the puke.  Did I already mention that?  The puke?

 

Weary.

 

I was not in a good place.  I was struggling with blaming Bella for behaviors, feelings, and vomit that were not her fault.

 

But, the Lord give rest to the weary.  (amen!)

And it came to this Mama through a wonderful, blessed little think we around here like to call R.E.S.P.I.T.E.  (sung to the tune of Respect, of course.)  Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, Bella is spending the day with another foster mom I know (Brian takes her in the morning and picks her up on his way home.).  We knew that spending the night away would be traumatic for her, so this was our compromise.  Now it’s just like she gets to go play at a friend’s house for the day.

 

Can I tell you that I feel like a whole new person today from two days ago?  I just needed a little mental reprieve.  A chance to reframe my thoughts.  A chance to relax (now you know I was wound when I say taking care of a two year old and a one year old is relaxing).  And a chance to go somewhere without fear that my backseat would be covered in vomit!  The freedom!

 

Already I am better able to love Bella, and able to remind myself just why I love her so much! 

I’ve actually gotten to spend time in prayer today and be reminded that my King is the King of redemption, unyielding love, and infinite strength!  The same God who shut the mouths of the lions and took down Goliath will not leave me alone to fight in my own strength.  He will armor my heart with love and grace.

I’ve also gotten to spend some good, not stressed out, special time with Sylvia and Naomi which has been wonderful.  wonderful.

 

I’m not usually a big respite advocate.  Mostly because I’ve seen it used in hurtful ways.  But I am seriously considering doing a day of daytime respite once every couple of weeks.  It helps me to be a better Mama.

 

That is all.  Off to actually get some cleaning done that is not the mopping of puke.

I'm not good at this.

I am currently out of town.  My sister is in town from Seattle, so it's my whole family.  All in one place.  It's wonderful.

This trip was planned before Bella came to our house.  I wanted her to come, but she couldn't miss her treatments this week because she is going with us to Colorado next week (!) and we have to push off her treatment for that.  So, Bella is at a respite home during the day this week, and my husband picks her up after work so that she can have some semblance of consistency and familiarity.

Three weeks ago, in the midst of transition and the stress of figuring out all of Bella's medical details,  I couldn't wait for this trip to be here.  It felt like the oasis in the desert, if I could just make it to the trip, we'd all make it through all this stress.  A week of respite for myself, and also for my daughter who was in a sharing bootcamp of sorts.


So, here we are.  Five hours away and surrounded by family, screaming (in a good way) children, and fun outings.  We are having a lot of fun.  And I love being with my family.
But there is something else there.  Something I didn't expect in my anticipation.  Something that has grown over the last three weeks.

I miss Bella.
I wish she were here so badly.  I wish she were here playing and meeting my family and being attachedtomeatthehip like she is at home.
I'm not good at this being away from her thing.

Bella, you have made your way into my heart.

Fun Weekend!

  This past weekend we had a four year old little girl for respite Friday through Sunday.  When we get short term respite placements, we do our best to spoil the heck out of them!  Not in a ‘their long term foster home is going to hate us’ kind of way.  We just want them to be absolutely sure of how much they are loved here – even for just a couple of days!

 

We had lots of fun doing art projects at a fun craft place nearby, followed by dinner at Chick-Fil-A (of course!) which got a resounding – “What?  They have a PLAYPLACE??!! This is the best place ever!”

The only thing better than crafts?  Crafts under a blacklight!

 

Sylvia was moderately jealous of sharing my snuggles.

 

Super Sylvie!

 

It never fails that any little girl placed with us (with the exception of a couple coming from sexual abuse backgrounds) absolutely soaks up the attention of a positive male role model.  I’m always amazed at the difference that Brian’s focused attention makes with them.

 

We fell in love with this little girl. So sweet.  I pray that she is loved unconditionally and thoroughly in her foster home!  Sometimes it’s so hard not to wish every respite placement could just move in!

Project 365 – Week 34

Sylvie decided she’d just sink her teeth into an apple she found in the grocery bag.  mmmm.

 

 

Helping Daddy work on the bedroom.

 

Sylvia the bathroom warrior.

She snuck up to the bathroom and came out wearing underwear, toilet paper, and bearing the shield of the bathtub.

 

We had a respite placement this week.  (Girl, 5, Boy, 8)  We had a lot of fun, and Sylvia LOVES having the older kids around.

 

A little card making for their mama.

 

 

One of my favorite things about our house is the ginkgo tree out front that goes from bright green to bright yellow in the fall.  So pretty.

 

 

What’s that you say?  I look like I must be 20 weeks along?

Just fourteen actually.  My belly has definitely ‘popped’ in the last couple weeks!

Maybe even slightly bigger than last time …. which is a little disturbing considering just how big I got last time…

Flying pigs and all that Jazz

Ahhhh, updates.  They always seem so lame, but necessary.  Half of our family would think we had 10 kids if I didn't post about kids leaving every once in a while - and since I will most likely also have this printed for our bookshelf, staying current has its pros.

The girls ended up leaving on Wednesday night.  Court was Wednesday afternoon and they 'officially' came into the custody of the state.  They are from a town a couple of hours away from us, and the state wanted to find a long term foster home closer to their parents.  However, after three hours of looking for a home to no avail, they called us back and asked if we'd like to take them long term.  And, get. this. 
I said no.
What is that?  Applause I hear?  Yes, I know, I am very proud of myself too.  (Actually, Brian said no.  But I was standing there when he did it.  So it counts.)
They are just not a good fit with the boys.  Those girls are going to need a LOT of one on one care, and I couldn't give them what they need, while also giving the boys what they need, and Sylvia what she needs. 
It was heartbreaking, those two days they were here.  I could feel their fear, their heartache.  It really is a physical hurt to see that kind of suffering.  They were just hurting so badly.  That's when you wish you just had a magic wand to make it all better.  But all you can do is hold them and rock them.  Their reason for coming into care was drug use, but while they were here I saw more signs of sexual abuse than I needed to, which puts fury in my soul.  I pray those girls are in a loving foster home, and that God comforts their broken little hearts.

In other news, yesterday was the last day of school for the boys.  It was a half day, and I picked them up and took them to have a special lunch with Brian.  We went to chick-fil-a.  (I may or may not have made that suggestion).  We had a fun filled afternoon of appointments with their caseworker and therapist. 
Yes.  You heard me correctly, their caseworker actually came to our home to visit.  {And while she was here I could vaguely make out a small pink pig flying across the sky above my neighbor's house.}  Surprisingly enough, her visit was not at all informative, except to ask me if I thought there might be a couple of weekends open this summer for their siblings to visit. 
I'm actually really looking forward to this summer.  I'm looking forward to getting to spend more time with the boys.  I'm looking forward to getting to do fun summer activities with them and spending afternoons at the pool with Sylvie.  And I'm looking forward to not being boxed in by a schedule of pick ups, drop offs, homeworks, and bedtimes.  I've got some really fun stuff planned for the boys this summer too, and it will be fun to get to watch them experience what a childhood summer should look like.

Of course, you'll have to ask me two weeks from now if I'm still looking forward to the rest of the 2 1/2 months.  We shall see.

The ‘n’ word.

As in ‘no’. 

Have I mentioned I’m no good at that word?  That I’m not sure of the last time that I willingly said that word?  (With exception to saying it to the children.  But that was a given.)  That any time I have to say that word I get this guilty knot in the pit of my stomach, and immediately change it to the much more loved, easy to say, non-confrontative, smile inducing ‘y’ word?

Well, I’m here to admit it.  I suck at saying no.  (I get it from my mom.  Even though when she reads this she might deny it.  But she sucks at saying no too.  It’s genetic.)

 

Last night Brian and I had a long conversation about the dreaded word.  And we agreed that we do, in fact, need to become more proficient at it’s use.

More specifically we talked about our boundaries and limits as foster parents.  Up until now, we have essentially taken any placement that they called us with, short of severe physical aggression.  Here are the new boundaries (still in the revision stage) and why:

 

• We won’t take any more respite placements as long as we have a long term placement.  (with VERY few exceptions to kids we’ve already done respite for.)  In this case with the boys, and any other kids we have in the future, I think that the stability of not having kids in and out will be very helpful, and that we have made a commitment to them to provide them the best environment for their healing.
• We won’t take any more emergency placements.  For two reasons.  The same as above – for stability for long term placements.  Also for stability for Sylvia and any other kids down the line – emergency placements are very disruptive and confusing, and I think that for our family that might be too much.  Also, there is the unknown.  For example is no way to know about physical aggression, which is not something we can risk with very young children in the home.
• We also feel like we need to be more selective as to what placements are good matches for our family.  I feel like the boys we have right now are a great match.  The girls we have for emergency, however are not.  I don’t feel like I can give them what they need with this many children in the home, and that is not fair to them, the other kids, or me.
• I can’t think of the others, but this is the gist.

 

The honest truth is that I feel so relieved to have discussed these boundaries.  It’s like I have permission to say no, and know that it can be a good thing!  It sounds silly, but I have found myself feeling guilty when I want to turn down a placement because it seems best for Sylvie, or when I want to turn down respite because it would be best for the other kids placed with us.  I know it’s not God giving me guilt.  Sometimes it’s like, if I don’t feel like I am completely maxed out, I don’t feel like I’m doing enough.  Like I’m giving enough.  I think it’s a mixture of symptoms I’ve picked up from broad society, church, and my own personality – and it’s no good.  It’s not godly. 

God gives me responsibilities.  He has given me my husband, Sylvia, and different children who have been with us for different amounts of time.  When he blesses me with one of these responsibilities, I need to be able to say no to other things, so that I can say yes to what he has placed in front of me.

So, changes. 

I’m not sure that this post makes a ton of sense to someone not inside my brain.  I’m not sharing just to share, or to vent, or anything else.  Mostly I’m sharing this in hopes that someone who struggles with the same ‘if I’m not losing my mind I’m not doing enough to help others’ mentality might identify, see that we’re all crazy, maybe create some boundaries of their own.  Because I’ve realized that without boundaries and limits – I’m no help to anyone!

I hope this post doesn’t discourage others from fostering.  Maybe just that it encourages honest evaluation of what God is asking.  Hope this made sense.  The end.

Glutinous, Green, Huge.

I don’t make it a real habit to meet new people at the gym.  In fact, I find that most of the time I try to avoid it.  I want to get in, get out, and get to everything else I have to do (such as the laundry of 5 small children.  which is a lot of laundry.).

This morning I was sitting on one of the machines taking a short break between reps when I noticed this older gentleman looking my way.  There are a lot of older people who exercise at the same time as me, and I rather like listening to their banter – but this guy, was he? Oh no.  He was making eye contact. The kind of eye contact that says, “I think I’ll start a conversation with that random person over there working on toning her inner thighs.” (But not in a perverted way, because that is definitely how that sounded.)

He walks over, and I smile, because 80 year old men automatically prompt smiles (why is that?).  He points at the stickers on my shirt that the daycare gives you so that they don’t give your children to someone else.  On this particular morning, there were three of them.

“Now I have a little bit of a personal question, ma’am.  Because you’re a pretty little thing, but you don’t look any older than 12.”

“Oh, I know sir, I get that a lot.  (And still don’t appreciate it, when is that supposed to kick in?) I’m actually almost 25.”

“Well, I know that you just had a baby, but I was just noticing that you have several child care stickers on your shirt, and because you are so young, I just didn’t know how it was possible?”

(Do I really have to explain to an 80 year old man how that’s possible?  Because by the time you’re 80, buddy, you should know.)

I explained how we’re foster parents, and how at the moment we have five children, but that we don’t always have that many kids.

“Oh, well, I was just wondering, being from Southern California and all, with all you religious freaks out here with all these kids – I just thought I’d ask.”

Ummmmm.  Seriously?  Seriously.  Who says something like that?  w.o.w.

I kind of wanted to point him toward this post.  But instead I just smiled.  I think there’s also something about being 80 years old that gives you some unmentioned permission to say whatever you want.

So we leave the gym.  I load the kids into the car, we start home.

I’m on the phone when I turn around to see that Carter has this MASSIVE glob of glutinous, green, disgustingness hanging from his nose to his lip.  The kind that makes you think, “Wow, he really must have an oversized sinus cavity.  Or maybe his entire head is one big sinus cavity.”  That big.

So I look around in a frenzy for the tissues and can’t find them.  I explain to him that I can’t find them, but that he should just sit there very still until we get home and I’d wipe it off as soon as I could. 

So we continue home, and I finish up my phone conversation.  We pull into the driveway and I go around to get him out of the car.

oh no.

where did they go?

where are the boogers?  The MASSIVE amount of boogers?

I start looking around the van for them, on his clothes, on his booster, the arm of the chair.  I can’t find them.

Carter, what happened to all of the boogers?

He looked at me as innocently as can be, pointed to his face, and opened his mouth.

 

Guess we can skip lunch.  Because wow, that many boogers must be proportionate to a three course meal.

Respite Support.

Which sometimes feels a bit like life support when your really in need of some good respite.

Tonight ‘Abby’ and ‘Carter’ will be coming to stay with us again.  We did respite for them the weekend that the boys came to us.  They’ll be with us until the end of the week.  Their foster mom is super overwhelmed.  Like really, really overwhelmed. 

Maybe the kids should move to a new home?  I’m not sure.  Disruptions are hard – much harder than just saying goodbye.

We’ve not ever asked a child to leave – but with X-man we were darn close.  I had just had Sylvia, my hormones were somewhere between euphoric bliss and crushing discouragement at any given moment, I was having a very difficult recovery from child birth, and X-man was 17 months old and still not eating food or walking.  Developmentally they were about nine months apart, and there were a lot of things that X-man still needed one on one care for in order to get caught up.  Overwhelmed doesn’t quite describe the first few weeks after she was born.

Long story short, we almost asked to have him moved.  However, our worker is incredible and gave us the support we needed to get through my recovery so that we could maintain placement.  The decision to maybe have him moved was one of the most heart wrenching decisions I’ve ever made (post-partum hormones aside). 

 

Initially I would say it’s mostly pride that makes you not want to throw in the towel.  But really, I don’t think that’s it most of the time.  It’s just that you want to be there for those kids.  You want to tough it out with them.  You want them to know that you love them.  You don’t want to cause more hurt.

With that said, sometimes disruptions are necessary.  There are a handful of times that the best thing for the kids is for them to move.  They need to be somewhere where their needs and emotions can be cradled and nurtured.

I don’t know if Abby and Carter need to move.  Not my call.  We’ll just do our best to support them and their foster mom for the time being.  We’ll see how it goes!  Back up to seven in the Popp home!

Why Foster?

Foster Care Awareness Month

May is Foster Care Awareness Month.  I got this video off of another foster parent’s blog – she put it together with some friends of hers.  I love the video – it’s really well done, and it only serves to make me more passionate about fostering and loving these kids. (You didn’t think that was possible, did you?)  I pray that it moves hearts.

My posts the last couple of weeks have been honest.  The majority of the last two weeks have been rough.  But I don’t want to make you think for a second that this is not a blessing.  It is a blessing, and a privilege to get to be a part of these kids’ lives.  Even during the rough times, I would not hesitate to recommend fostering.  It will change your life, and will forever impact the kids you come to love.

 

 

The video lists some ways of helping other than licensing to foster, like:

• Becoming a CASA advocate.  As a CASA advocate you are assigned to kids in the system and help to advocate for them in the court system.  GREAT program.
• Becoming a respite provider in order to give foster parents needed breaks.  To be a licensed respite provider you take the same classes as a foster parent, but kids only come to stay with you for a few days at a time.  In some states you can babysit for foster parents simply by having a background check done.  To learn more, contact your local state agency.
• If you’re a Harley fan, you can join BACA (Bikers Against Child Abuse).  The kids LOVE it when a bunch of bikers show up for their court hearings.  It also serves to make them feel safe if the perp is at the hearing.  This program was great – the kids on my caseload loved it.
• Donate clothes, bikes, stuffed animals, hygiene supplies, journals, schools supplies, or new toys to your local fostering agency.
• Adopt!
• Tutor a child, or sponsor a child through Big Brothers/Big Sisters of America.
• There are so many ways to help these kids!  What’s your gift?

 

{ If you have any questions about fostering, or the other programs that are listed, please let me know!  You can leave questions in the comments, or e-mail me.  I will do my best to answer or point you in the direction of someone who can!}

Project 365 – Week 9

One of my favorite things about the warm weather showing it’s face.  My baby girl is even cuter in the nude!  ha!

 

Sylvia’s first experience with a pickle.  She kept making faces, but she sucked it dry.

 

Visiting Daddy at his office for lunch.  A surprise visit after coming home from Nana and Grandpa.

 

Sylvie kisses for Mommy.  Love these.

 

A fun day at the park – where else do you go with five kids??

 

Nesting.

I’ve come to the conclusion that nesting has nothing to do with the hormonal woes of pregnancy.  Unless I’m pregnant.  But I’m not – not as far as I know.

But seriously, every time we get a phone call telling us that we have new children coming to stay, you should see me in all my Martha Stewart glory!  We’re talking scrubbing down the floors and walls on my hands and knees, organizing closets, changing sheets that haven’t been slept in, and running my poor husband ragged with rearranging every room in our home.  Unless my hormones are seriously in tune with the caller id saying “Intake Department” that can’t be it.  It feels a bit more like adrenaline that propels these aggressive cleaning binges.  Some people go to the gym, but that just doesn’t seem nearly as productive- in the short term anyway. 

 

We have two little ones coming tonight – just for the weekend.  And you better believe that I’m about to go cleaning crazy on this mess of a house.  Which doesn’t make a ton of sense, since adding a three and a four year old to this mix will ensure that the house will look like a tornado hit it by Sunday.  But oh well.  I must satisfy the urge.

 

My friend Katherine prescribed that it has to do with control.  Which is probably spot on.  When we get called with a placement, there’s not much that I do have control over except for the dust bunnies in the corner – so that’s where I start.  It’s therapeutic.  And while I have to trust God with everything else, I think that nesting is the outlet he gives me to exercise my apprehensions right out.

 

So, nest I will.

I’m going to go clean out the microwave.

Male Bonding.

Thing I learned in the two days that we had a pre-pubescent boy:

 

1. Boys smell.  Girls may be made of sugar and spice, yadayada, but boys? Boys are made of sweat, grime, two days of pretending that you brushed your teeth when you didn’t, and farts.  s.m.e.l.l.y.

 

2.  Boys need masculine love.  I’ve noticed this with kids of the male persuasion that we’ve been blessed with before – but I really felt like having an older male made that need even more apparent.  *Popcorn* was glued to Brian at the hip.  During meals he asked to sit next to him, he wanted to ride next to him in the car, and any time he was doing something he wanted Brian right there just in case something cool happened.  Popcorn lives with his momma, and I think he really soaked up the male bonding time.  I think I even heard a few grunts and pounding of chests.

 

3.  Popcorn’s momma has done a good job at teaching him manners.  He says please and thank you, he opens doors, he informs Brian how to treat me like a lady (Ha!), and he apologizes when he feels like he’s done something wrong.  Chalk it up to the honeymoon phase, but I think it is sweet, and I want to make sure that I teach any boys we may have these very same things.

 

4.  If you let boys watch lots of rated ‘R’ movies, Southpark, Family Guy, and listen to unending amounts of rap music – it will probably come back to bite you in your rear.  This kid needs some serious detox from all things bloody, violent, and four lettered.

 

I definitely enjoy boys.  I feel like I connect more with girls, but boys have their own list of cool.  And Brian doesn’t smell so much anymore (mostly)…so maybe they grow out of that one.

 

 

*For confidentiality reasons, I lovingly gave him the name Popcorn, because this kid had a HEAVY duty case of ADD.  He is on medication, and still something new and totally unrelated pops into his mind at the rate of about 20 ideas per minute.  I liken it to popcorn in an air popper.  Thus, his nickname.*

Project 365 – Week 8

This is what happens now when I put Sylvia on the floor with toys.  She promptly rolls herself under the bed/couch/table – whatever is available really.  She’s learned how to direct her rolling now so that she can get where she wants to, and has even started scooting!

Sylvie loves snuggling her Daddy.

Sylvia and her friend Elliana having fun looking out the window.

My flowers, compliments of the boys.

Sylvia meeting her friend Coralyn for the first time!  We were in the same Bradley class as her parents, used the same birth center, and the girls were born on the very same day!

 

Sylvie was a little bit more aggressive in her introduction – not sure Coralyn knew quite what to think.

Whoah!  Checkin’ out her pretty red hair!

Sylvie and her brother from another mother.

“You have power tools?  COOL!”

They made ‘swords’ and ‘shields’ together out of wood.  Good male bonding time.  Then they pretended to be pirates in the front yard.  So cute.

(I fail at this.  I either don’t have enough pictures, or too many.  So this is my very own version of Project 365.)

Obviously a Gentleman.

We’re staying busy with this young man.

This morning he got up bright and early.  Brian got up with him so that I could try to let Sylvia sleep a little longer.  He was antsy for something to do, so they took off to the store to get some breakfast goodies.

I heard the garage door when they returned, and Sylvie was waking up, so I got up and went down stairs.  I heard some whispering, and when I rounded the corner he popped out at me with a bouquet of flowers!

“I told Brian he needed to get these for you.  I told him you are a good wife, and you’re pretty.  And that he’s a lucky man.”

 

 

 

I like this kid already!

What is that? …The familiar sound of our phone ringing?

It is no later than 3:38 p.m., and we have already gotten 2 (TWO) phone calls today for placements.  My sister says they’ve got our proverbial number (“Yeah, call the Popps, they NEVER say no.”). 

I say that if any foster home is getting calls overlapping calls, that there need to be more foster homes.  mmhmm.  How many of us have an extra bedroom?  In how many of our homes to each of our children have their own rooms?  Really?  Sharing is good.  But I digress.

Both phone calls were for respite.  We said yes when they called us with the first.  A nine year old boy, tonight through Sunday night.  He’s diagnosed with Oppositional Defiant Disorder (it’s exactly what the title says) so I had intake call the caseworker to check on physical aggression.

While she was doing her checking, we got another phone call.

“I know that someone just called you for respite for a little boy, but your worker told us we should call you with this one.”  (We have a very good working relationship with our worker.  And obviously – she DOES have our number.) “We need respite for a sibling group of six, ages 2, 3, 4, 5, 8, and 9 – tonight through next Friday.” (Gulp. How does that even happen??)   After listening to the referral, finding out the 9 year old is physically aggressive, and calling Brian, we decided that we would be able to take some of them, but not all – they won’t fit! – and not the 9 year old due to said PA.  She’s going to call around and see if she can place them together, if not, she’ll call back.

I hung up, and the first intake caller called back.  The 9 year old is not physically agressive, and there is an infant where he currently lives that he does well with.  OK.  So, for now, we have a 9 year old little boy coming today at 5:00. 

We are already having people over for dinner tonight and tomorrow night, so I hope he likes company!  Speaking of company, we know two couples who are good friends who are finishing their fostering classes next week, and we are getting together with a couple tonight for dinner who want to discuss fostering to adopt!!  So exciting. (All of which read this.  I’m so excited for you and where God may lead you!)

 

This was long.  Sorry.  And may or may not have made fostering sound a little scary.  But it's more of a blessing than it is scary.  I promise.

Dadadadadadada.

Here’s a video – mostly for those who have, or have had, the last name Popp or Reed – or for anyone who likes watching cute babies.  (I’m not biased.)  Toward the end Sylvie displays her newest trick – babbling.  Brian is extraordinarily proud of this, mostly because her first sound just happened to be dadadada.  He swears it’s on purpose.  I keep telling him it’s just the easiest sound to make – she’ll make more sophisticated sounds later – like mamama. 

 

 

 

 

Oh, and,

 

Thank you for your ideas and prayers yesterday.  I called our worker and told her that we would be happy to have three kiddos this weekend.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn’t trusting God in this.  I’ve just been so anxious to get another long term placement that I didn’t want to wait for His timing, and I wasn’t being open to how He was deciding to use us.

So unless we hear otherwise, we’ll be lovin’ on three beautiful girls this weekend (in addition to Sylvie.) ages 2, 4, and 6.  That sounds crazy doesn’t it?  Yup.  Crazy.

Respite? Long Term? Selfish?

We got a voicemail about another potential respite placement for this upcoming weekend.  Three kids, in our age range (12 and under), and that’s about all we know.  Most of me says, “Of course they can come here!  What are their favorite foods, movies?, things to do?  Bring it on!”

But there is a small part of me that is thinking that there is a possibility they would call us with a long term placement between now and then, and if we say yes to respite, we’d have to say no to that.  Is this selfish?  I don’t know.  This could sound totally wrong, but I said I’d be honest.

I’m really looking forward to another long term placement.  I feel like we can make a more lasting impact with long term placements, I love having kids placed with us who really become a part of our family, and I like knowing that I’m going to get to love on these kids for some extended period of time.

But, there is also this nagging inside of me, telling me that we should just help however they need us, and that if that means respite, so be it.

Ugh.  I don’t know if I’m being selfish.  This whole thing may even sound silly and blown out of proportion – but it is potentially changing the make-up of our family for then next several months (years?).  Anyway, prayer and discerning comments are appreciated.

Picasso's going home.

Well....we were supposed to be having a little boy come to stay with us starting Wednesday. He was coming as a respite placement* for ten days. We've done respite for him before - and he is quite a challenge - but he is also so sweet. He is four years old and is not verbal, not potty trained, is a little on the physical side, and is extremely picky about food (which proves to be difficult because of his lack of verbal skills - which is none.). Last time he was at our home he finger-painted our carpet with yellow paint - which was entirely my fault, but due to his artistry, we'll just call him Picasso.
Picasso had a court hearing yesterday and they sent him back home with his parents. This is a good thing. (This becomes the mantra you whisper to yourself as a foster parent - to remind yourself that going home is good, even if not ideal.) If you could just keep him in your prayers though, I'd love you for it. His situation was pretty severe when he came into state custody, and in severe cases it always makes you a little nervous about their homecoming (or homegoing?). There's just so much risk. Which is different than danger (more on that in another post) but is still a little tie-your-stomach-in-knots nerve wracking.

So, if you could keep little Picasso in your prayers, that would be great. I'll whisper a little prayer for him every time I walk across our yellow carpet.



*For any of you not versed in the lingo of Social Services - a respite placement is a temporary placement where you take care of a foster child who actually lives long-term in another foster home. It's kind of like extended babysitting for another foster family. In this case - they were going on a vacation that, due to his developmental delays, he couldn't participate in. So, we would have watched him for the ten days as a respite placement. Does that make sense?