Not all our foster parenting stories involve friendships between us and the kids’ parents. Seth and I pride ourselves on working really hard to have good relationships with parents of kids who are in our care, but it isn’t always possible for a whole variety of reasons.
One very young mom was always fine with us when we interacted with her at the courthouse, but that’s where our interactions stopped because she had a history of violent aggression toward others, and a boyfriend who had said some pretty threatening things about us in a courthouse hallway that were overheard by guards who warned us, and escorted said mom and boyfriend off the premises before we were allowed to leave the waiting room. God bless those guards.
She couldn’t keep a regular phone number so we weren’t able to send her updates about her little guy via text, which is something we like to do. So all we could do was sit next to her in the waiting room outside the courtroom and show her pictures and videos of her son then. We didn’t have to worry about our relationship with her when her son went home because he didn’t go back to her, he went to his paternal grandmother, with whom we had a good relationship despite there being a language barrier.
Another time, for nine months, Seth and I had two-year-old twins, who here shall be referred to as PB and Jelly. They were the cutest little things, and Godawful. Seriously. They had bonded with each other but were not really ever able to bond with Seth and me which is a hard thing that I’ll talk about in another blog post.
PB, the boy, was fairly decent most of the time, thank goodness. We think he may be on the autism spectrum, which presented its own set of issues in the form of difficulty communicating.
Jelly on the other hand, was something else. Our daycare provider at the time referred to her as being “spicy.” And spicy she was! She was saucy, talked back, deliberately did the opposite of what we asked her to do, and was a menace to property. Both of them were extremely high energy and bounced around off furniture and toys like little pinballs. They could trash the playroom in 15 seconds flat. Doctors visits with both of them together reduced me to the verge of tears.
They kept us on our TOES man!
Their parents had a grand total of seven children ages four and under. Only one set of twins. Yes that is technically possible. Everyone involved in the case pulled out a calendar as soon as they heard those numbers! Two of the kids were preemies and that helps with the math but it’s still pretty staggering.
Seth and I tried so hard to have a good relationship with PB&J’s parents. From the start they hated us. They hated that PB&J called us mommy and daddy on their own initiative, and we couldn’t convince them to call us Holly and Seth. I totally understand how that could be extremely hard for a parent to deal with. Dad hated that I used a particular type of band in Jelly‘s hair when I cornrowed or twisted it. (Way more on haircare in another blog sometime in the future). Dad hated that the kids came to visits in fleece jackets rather than heavy winter coats (it was because you’re not supposed to put heavy winter coats in car seats but he didn’t really believe that). I think they hated that we are white. They hated that we weren’t family members. They hated that at 2 1/2 their kids weren’t potty trained yet.
What they really hated is that we were raising their two beloved children. And there’s nothing Seth and I could do about that.
Before the kids were set to return home I went out and bought Jelly a whole new size 3T wardrobe because she was just outgrowing her 2T stuff. I bought her absolutely beautiful things. It’s still rankles to this day that dad complained that he didn’t like the clothes I bought because there weren’t enough jeans and too many pairs of leggings. I could’ve sent the kid home with the scant 2T wardrobe that still fit but did them the courtesy of making sure they would not need to buy anything for her in the immediate future. Sigh. It’s funny what gets to me and what doesn’t. That one does.
There was lots of drama with this family. Originally the kids were split into three homes, the twins to us, three kids to a family member, and two kids to another foster home. At some point the family member and the other foster mom got into a disagreement with mom, CPS calls were made by all involved, and the kids were abruptly removed from the relative and the other foster home. The twins however stayed with us, because when all of that went down I had enough wherewithal to steer clear of the whole dispute.
There’s no point in my criticizing a child’s parent. It’s the county’s job to make sure the parents do what they need to in order to get their kids back. It’s my job to be courteous and kind, as understanding as possible, and to help them, not hinder them. Arguments aren’t going to advance anything.
Are there times when I have tattled on a bio parent to a caseworker when I find out something that’s concerning? Yes indeed. Did I confront the parents about it myself? No I absolutely did not.
In the end, the best possible thing that Seth and I can do is try to have a good relationship with bio parents. We have never ever ever said anything bad about a bio parent in front of a child. In fact we tell the kids all the good things about their parents that we can possibly think of. Kids need to know we aren’t competition for their affections, that we are a team with their parents whenever it is possible.
One of the most gracious things Kiddo’s mom ever did was tell Kiddo that she was allowed to love us. That single act set us up as a team to help raise Kiddo cooperatively. It’s still extraordinary to me that Kiddo’s mom was able to set aside her own emotions and liberate her child that way.
But when it doesn’t work that way? All we can do is grin and bear it and be the bigger people. More than once with PB&J’s parents I found myself muttering under my breath Michelle Obamas edict: “When they go low, we go high.”
In the end, PB&J went back to their parents where they are very well loved and are surrounded by a zillion active siblings at all times. Is it ideal? Probably not. But PB&J are loved and Seth and I are no longer in their lives, and that’s OK. Foster care did what it was supposed to, and gave their parents time to figure out some important issues together so that they could parent their kids better. And in the end it doesn’t matter at all that PB&J’s parents didn’t like us.
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