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Newborns are cute. And painful.

Yesterday late afternoon I got a call from the County asking if I would take a short term placement of a newborn male. We are focused on girls with medical issues in this household now, but I’ve always wanted to have the newborn experience and couldn’t until now because I was working. So since it was a short term placement (likely just through the holidays) I said yes, then called my husband to beg forgiveness. Ha!

My husband is a labor and delivery nurse at the hospital where the baby was. So I ran around the house and dug out the infant car seat and its inserts for newborns, got Sprout off the bus, and dragged her to Target for a few outfits, diapers, and formula. I then bribed her with a Happy Meal and played the Frozen soundtrack in the car on repeat. We swung by where my husband’s car was parked and dropped off an outfit and the car seat, and I came home with Sprout and tucked her into bed. Seth came home and woke me up an hour or so later, holding the baby in his arms. Squee!

He is teeny tiny. Just a bitsy little guy. He’s 5 days old now but is swimming in newborn clothes.

Part of the deal with our taking a newborn is that I am on full nighttime duty since I’m not working, and Seth works long hours at the hospital. So I slept in the twin bed that’s in the baby’s room, and was awakened about every 2 hours for food and a diaper change. Seth is a true professional at swaddling (he does it at work daily) and I suck at it, so I suspect the babe would have gone longer stretches if I’d been able to swaddle him properly. I’ll get better at it I’m sure.

Sometime around 4 am, baby woke up and I noticed he was ripe, so I started to change his diaper. Mid way through putting on a fresh one he became a pee fountain, so I had to strip him completely naked and wipe him down and rediaper him and put on a fresh outfit. Then while I was feeding him a few minutes later he pooped AGAIN. So three diapers and a pee fountain at 4 am were fun.

Unshowered, half awake, holding caffeine, and with a cat.

I’m currently sitting in my favorite chair while baby sleeps in the swing. I’m contemplating showering but that seems like it would take a lot of energy. I’m caffeinated. Thoroughly. But it’s not quite cutting it. And it’s only 10 am. It’s a good thing babies are so damn cute otherwise the species would have died out long ago!

We didn’t find out the baby’s first name until this morning and we still don’t know his last name. It’s crazy to me that children can be dropped off at our house and we sometimes don’t even know their names. As a good friend of mine said, that’s pretty dehumanizing. But sadly, that’s the system. At least this little baby will have as good a start as we can give him.

Recertification as a Foster Home

Every two years we have to be re-certified by the County that holds our foster care license. The process is fairly simple.

First, we have to do physicals. There’s a form our doctors have to complete that basically confirms we are healthy enough to be foster parents and are up to date generally.

Second, since we take in special rate medical kids, we have to provide documentation that we have engaged in at least 5 hours of special training annually. Only foster homes that take special rate kids need to do this piece. For some folks it’s a struggle to get the training hours done, but for Seth and me it’s a cinch. Seth’s pediatric CPR training counts, as did his class on child development in nursing school. Many of my trainings for being an Attorney for the Child count (topics were things like trauma informed interview tactics, the Indian Child Welfare Act, and domestic violence’s impacts on families). Plus I’m an avid reader/listener to books and like a lot of autobiographies by/about foster parents and former foster youth. My recent Audible titles include these three books all on the topic:

All are good, but I found Garbage Bag Suitcase particularly moving.

I love that reading relevant books counts. I’m about to start a book called “In Their Voices: Black Americans on Transracial Adoption.” I also listen to podcasts and just found “Creating a Family: Talk about Adoption and Foster Care.” I’ve listened to one episode and I’m hooked. So many relevant topics to choose from! I suspect that would count toward my training hours too.

Anyway, I digress. The third component of recertification is that we have a home inspection and interview with a “home finder,” who is kind of like our own case worker. We did that piece today.

Our own home finder is out because of a family member’s medical issue, so we had another home finder in the department come to our house today. We really hit it off with her. She’s super engaging and high energy, and we talked with her for several hours. She told us at the start of the visit, when she was barely in the door, that she had snapped up the opportunity to come do our recertification because “you guys are legendary.” What? We ARE? Apparently, at least according to her, the home finding unit loves us because we are veterans who know what we are doing, can handle anything, fully support reunification of families, advocate for kids in our care, and are pleasant to work with. Who the hell knew?!? It was really flattering to hear.

She completed a house walk through first, checking for fire extinguishers, a fire safety/emergency exit plan on the fridge, working smoke detectors on each floor and in each bedroom, basic cleanliness, number of beds, etc. That part was quick and easy.

As a side note, I had forgotten she was coming until very shortly before she arrived, but with my new status as a homemaker, things around the house were presentable without our having to scramble for hours trying to get the place clean. Bonus!

Then we just sat and chatted with her for ages. We talked about our current placement (Sprout) and of course Kiddo’s weekend visits. We talked about some good experiences we’ve had as foster parents, and some atrocious ones. We talked about my career change, Seth’s job, philosophies about screen time for kids, and the myriad felines with whom we share our home.

We also talked about the really important issues about foster care, like the goal of reunifying families, and kinship care, and how important it is for kids to have a sense of where they come from.

She was fully aware of our case file and some, eh hem, disagreements we’ve had with management along the way. We’ve butted heads with one woman in particular, who is sort of mid level management at the agency. Today’s home finder actually liked us extra for having had those disagreements, because she feels that means we are advocating for our kids. We’ve certainly learned some hard lessons along the way and have almost quit being foster parents twice, both times involving this particular mid-management person. We have long known that woman hates us and wishes we’d disappear, but it was SO GRATIFYING to learn that doesn’t mean the whole agency hates us.

All-in-all, it was my favorite recertification visit to date. Sometimes I need to be told we are doing our jobs well. Sometimes I need to hear we are respected for all our hard, hard work. And I certainly feel better knowing we’ve got some fans at the agency, even if it won’t ever be universal.

Gloriously Unemployed

I’ve written a little bit about my work history previously here. If you don’t feel like reading the old post, in short, my work story is as follows:

I went to Cornell Law School, and went straight to a law firm of roughly 65 attorneys where I worked for 15 years practicing environmental and zoning law. After years of struggling to balance work and my health issues (see here and here) and my demands at home, and of wrestling with feeing like I wasn’t making enough difference in the world, I quit the law firm and totally reinvented myself. I did that right at the same time Covid hit. Spectacular timing.

My new line of work was working as an Attorney for the Child, representing children in custody disputes and neglect and abuse proceedings. It was as hard as it sounds. The stories of the things these kids had to endure were awful. There were so many times when I couldn’t really do much to help the kids. There were so many times when I wanted to throttle parents who were so busy fighting each other, they couldn’t see what terrible impact they were having on their kids. I was constantly being hated by one parent or another, or both. I was constantly stressing about court appearances and trials and doing the job well enough. I was procrastinating important tasks because I knew they would be contentious (also ADHD). I was basically drowning in the work, and in the stress about the work.

To top it all off, I was making very, very little money because I don’t have an assistant and spent a ton of time on administrative tasks I couldn’t bill for. Plus I could only bill for cases when they concluded, so while I had lots of time on the books, I couldn’t get paid for it yet. Plus I was wasting time worrying about tasks rather than doing them. And on top of all of that, the rate of reimbursement for Attorney for the Child work is woefully low. It’s just not prioritized as important by our state.

Meanwhile, I am a foster mom, and I was feeling like I was failing at that because I never had enough energy for the kids. Sprout would come home from school and watch tv most days because I was shatteringly exhausted from my work and stress. I couldn’t keep up with Little Dude. My house was always messy, and my husband was always begging me to cook good healthful meals (he tries but I’m the family chef). But I was so damn tired in the evening, most of the time all I could do was sit and wait until the kids could go to bed so I could do so too.

Last weekend, Seth was working 12 hour shifts both days, but I happened to be feeling good all weekend. I also happened to have a Mother’s Helper for Saturday. She’s a great kid, 15, and she helped tremendously by herding the three kids while I scrubbed and organized and did laundry. I got so much done. I continued cleaning on Sunday, too.

By the end of the weekend I was tired but the house looked and felt great, and I had actually enjoyed the entire weekend. I had played with the kids a bunch on Sunday, and invented creative ways to involve them in my cleaning. Sprout loves to “help,” and Little Dude loved that I was toting him everywhere with me. In short, it was a wonderful weekend.

Then Sunday night I could not sleep. I was dreading work, and so sad that I couldn’t always keep up with the house and kids because of work and my health. I thought about how my most important job is being a foster mom, and that I wasn’t doing it very well. I thought about my health issues and how they weren’t going to improve if I continued to drown in stress.

Sometime around 2 a.m., I sort of broke. And then an epiphany happened.

When we woke up Monday morning, I told Seth I wanted to quit my job completely and entirely. To my amazement, he said “Do it. I’ll pick up enough overtime hours to make ends meet for a while.” So I spent Monday writing letters to Judges, asking them to reassign my cases.

By Monday evening I was beside myself with joy. I felt so free! Liberated. Joyful. Un-stressed.

I’m still reveling in the feeling of having enough energy to do all the things on my to-do list. Yesterday when Sprout came home from school, we played together for hours and worked on her counting skills. Her case worker came over for a last-minute home visit, and the house was presentable. I’m still wrapping up loose work ends and have a lot of billing to do for all my cases that I’ve worked on to date, but the stress is just completely gone.

I had a brief but lovely conversation with one of my favorite Judges yesterday about autoimmune issues, and my work. She was sad to see me leave the field and complimented me on the work I had done. She was understanding and didn’t blame me for quitting, which was wonderful. She will welcome me back to her courtroom with open arms when I’m ready to return to legal work.

What’s next for me? For a while, a stint as a stay-at-home foster mom. We’ve got Sprout, and Kiddo on weekends, and we are open for placement of girls with medical issues ages newborn to about 6. I suspect it will be a while before we get another placement because kids with medical issues don’t come into care that often. For now, I’ll focus on these two beloved kids and the 6 ridiculous but loved cats, and keeping up with the house and cooking. I’ll have the energy to play with the kids and take them places. I’ll get to nap when I need it. And I’ll focus on getting my medications settled so I feel better.

Eventually I will be going back to work but in a different capacity – I’ll be doing adoptions and kinship guardianship (which is basically permanently placing children with relatives when their parents can’t raise them). It should be infinitely less contentious work which will suit my tender heart better. It’s much needed work because there aren’t many attorneys who do it well and they’re aging. I’ve got training materials I can work on and I’ll ease back into work in a way that balances my health and foster care without draining the life out of me.

But not quite yet. I want to enjoy my foster mom life for a bit before I dive back in.

An update on Dude Man

Little Dude Man is spending his first night in his new foster home. And I could not be more thrilled with the family that he went to.

Mom is a Special Ed teacher, and incredibly sweet. She’s got another boy foster at home who Dude can play with and hug like he hugged Sprout all the time. Mom has lots of energy and enthusiasm for boys and Dude took right to her. He’s usually afraid of strangers, but he didn’t cry or fuss. Just went to her.

We sent him along with allllllll his things. Of course he went with his favorite blue and green striped bunny that he sleeps on. He went with a full wardrobe including winter coat and hat and mittens and boots. He’s got enough clothing for 2 kids, I swear. And we sent him with our favorite toddler book “Please Baby Please” and another called “Whose Knees are These?” that both feature kids of color. He’s got Christmas presents – our beloved friends had already done Christmas shopping for him. He’s got shoes and toys his Mama gave him. We gave her the diapers we had for him too, and the diaper cream that’s working best on him, and the paperwork she’d need to put him in daycare starting tomorrow. He had a whole car trunk full of stuff. The foster mom was amazed and said “I’ve never had a foster kid come with anything before!” And Seth said, “That’s how we roll.” She replied, “Darn, I was excited for a Target run,” and laughed.

When I say I could not be happier with where he is I truly mean it. We’ve met other foster families that our kids have come from or gone to and often been worried about how foster kids would fare there, but this? This is one of the good families. A gem.

I was rattling around the house last night at a bit of a loss as to what to do with myself. I didn’t have to chase him all the time or pick up the mayhem he’d left in his wake. It was… a relief. I was relieved he was gone, relieved our beloved daycare provider confirmed he’s not an easy kid and it’s not in our imaginations, and relieved he was in a good new place. All that relief tells me things worked out ok.

A Yucky Post to Write

We have notified the County that we need to have them move Little Dude if they can find another place for him.

I’m feeling… well, terrible about it. I’m also vastly relieved at the idea, which is probably pretty telling.

I wrote a while back about having a hard time bonding with Little Dude Man, and that has continued. Exactly WHY that’s the case is probably pretty complex. What we explained to the case worker and head of the Homefinding unit is that he’s All Boy, with endless out there boy energy. He’s so high energy that I can’t keep up with him. He’s also super needy – needs lots of hugs and reassurances all the time. What’s happening in our house is that he’s taking up all our energy. All of it. To the point where I’m practically in tears at the end of every evening because I’m exhausted from following him around and getting him out of mischief, and poor Sprout isn’t getting much of my energy, much less Kiddo on the weekends. The head of the Homefinding unit at the County asked me what tv shows or characters he likes, and I honesty had to answer her “none.” He won’t sit still long enough to watch tv or listen to a book. He Never. Stops. Moving.

I’ve raised my voice at him a number of times because he doesn’t stop what he’s doing unless you physically intervene or YELL, and I feel like an utter asshole each time I do it. I don’t want Sprout growing up watching me lose my patience with Little Dude. I swore when I became a foster parent that I would never yell at the kids and here I am, yelling at a toddler who deserves better.

I can’t cage him in a playpen because he SCREAMS RELENTLESSLY about being in there. And I can’t cage him in a high chair for long because he loses patience with that too. And our house is hard to make baby proof enough for him. (There’s baby proofing, then there’s Dude proofing, and the usual techniques aren’t enough for Mr. Mischief). I can’t get meals prepped or the dishes done or the house picked up or even collect my sanity for 30 seconds.

I’m just… not the right fit for the little guy. He needs a home with a higher energy parent who loves rough and tumble boy energy. Little Dude is an affectionate kid and someone out there could really bond with him, I’m sure of it. It’s just… not me.

Seth is being supportive of my need to move the Little Dude. He needs it less because he’s home less with the kids on his own and he’s frankly a more amazing parent. But I’m alone with them a lot and I’m just plain struggling.

What really makes me feel extra bad is that we really, really like his Mom and we know that she feels he’s safe with us and I don’t want a move to derail all her progress. I feel terrible about upsetting her.

The county is going to try to place him with his brother first, which would be amazing. And then they’ll try to find another foster home that likes energetic little boys.

I’m painfully aware that too many disruptions in the primary bond is bad for kids. It can lead to major problems down the road. It’s why we’ve never disrupted a placement before even though we’ve thought about it. I’m praying this little guy will do better if he’s got someone who is bonded with him, more than I am. I can only hope and pray that makes up for disrupting his bond with us.

I know this will be a controversial decision. I know the County isn’t thrilled with us for disrupting, though the case worker kindly said that she wants us to keep fostering and not be so out of patience that we can’t do so. I feel bad for disrupting the child’s bond and his mother’s progress, and for contributing to the stereotype of foster parents who shuffle kids around through the system.

We’ve stuck it out through the really hard kids before (eh hem, Kiddo), but at that time she was the only kid we’d had aside from her brother, so her challenges only affected us, not other kids in the house. I hate hate hate how Dude Man is affecting Sprout. She likes him, but also gets incredibly frustrated with his whacking her with toys (he doesn’t seem to be learning from a firm “no”) and his crying jags while he’s in the playpen so I can make food, and his crying jags in the car seat that can go on for a half hour because he’s confined. She’s started throwing tantrums to get attention because so much of our energy is focused on Dude. That to me is a warning bell that all is not right in her world. She actually begged us to stay home from school yesterday and send Dude to daycare, I think in part because she needed a bunch of attention from us. So I can’t let Dude keep negatively affecting my sweet little girl – frankly, we committed to her first.

All in all, I’m just so infinitely glad the County is working on moving Dude Man. The prospect of the break we’ll get after he’s gone is what’s giving me more patience with him now. We’ll send him to a new home with a complete wardrobe and with Christmas gifts and the works, and prayers that his new foster home can bond with him where we’ve failed.

“Sprout” it is!

Commenter Vicki won the naming contest for our three-year-old, formerly referred to on here as “Tiny,” with the suggestion of “Sprout.” I just love that one. It’s cute. And suits the kid. It comes more naturally to me (and my writing) than any other suggestion. I’m not sure why, but there it is.

I got lots of wonderful suggestions, including “Spunky” which came in second, and “Feisty,” which the kid certainly is. I also got “Wonder Woman” and “Ladybug” which were also super cute. There was a long list of great options!

Thanks to everyone who suggested new nicknames!

“Tiny” needs a new nickname

When she first came to us, “Tiny” was deemed failure to thrive. She was so small and so sick, that calling her “tiny” came naturally.

Since then, she’s been diagnosed with a whole host of medical issues that keep her small, not least of which is a form of skeletal dysplasia, a.k.a. dwarfism. She’s a Little Person, and always will be.

Calling someone with dwarfism “tiny” seems wildly inappropriate, now that we know about it. And far more importantly, she loathes being called “Tiny.” She says she’s a Big Kid. And she is – she’s 3 1/2 and fiercely independent and tough as nails. Nothing about her personality is small!

So I’m turning to you my readers, and asking for suggestions for a new nickname for my mighty tough amazing kid. All ideas welcome!

Gratitude Journal

I bought a new blank book today to re-start an old practice: keeping a Gratitude Journal.

It’s a practice I started several years ago at the urging of my therapist. The challenge is to write down three things each day that I’m grateful for, and try not to repeat any one thing throughout the book. It’s both harder and easier than it seems!

I kept the old book for quite a while before I lost it. It brought me up to write in it daily because even when I was in a horrible mood I could think of three grudging things. And I often found myself putting into words emotions I was feeling but hadn’t recognized, and putting them down in black and white brought out and highlighted little joys in my life.

That book was wonderful reading when I was down. I would find myself laughing about how grudging I sometimes was, and remembering good things I’d forgotten. It always served to make me happier about my life.

My therapist was right. She usually is.

So I’m starting fresh, after a little break from the practice. Today’s Three:

1. I am grateful for the wild hair I got up my backside more than 6 years ago, to become a foster parent. It’s something my husband and I had discussed many times over the years but all of a sudden I got the urge to Just Do It. And I’m grateful for whatever inspired me to take that plunge. 14 kids and 6 years later, my heart is far bigger, and a lot more tattered than ever. All the cracks from places where it’s broken when we’ve said goodbye to kids are the places where the light shines through now.

2. I am grateful every single day for indoor plumbing. Hot and cold running taps, a toilet that flushes, and a hot shower are daily miracles to me.

3. I am grateful for the woman who stopped when I did this morning, and scooped up a tiny, frail, wobbly black kitten from the road where we had almost hit it. I don’t need a 7th cat. Really. I don’t. I love my lunatic animals – all 6 cats and 2 guinea pigs. I love them hard, especially the most recent addition to the family who just up and moved in one day. But I can’t afford more! And have trouble keeping track of the ones I already have. Seth mutters about having to clean guinea pig cage and litter boxes, while I guiltily thank him for doing it. That’ll be a future gratitude… that my husband scoops all the poop!

Kids and Cats Galore

If you hadn’t realized this already, we are crazy cat people. Like for real. We never set out to be, it just… happened.

When I met Seth he had one awesome cat. And when he died we took in a stray kitten that the neighborhood kids found in a dumpster and brought to us. It stayed that way for a year – we had just one cat. Then we adopted a dog. And it stayed that way for a year – one dog, one cat.

Then someone I worked with found a very sickly stray cat and we took her home. So it was one dog and two cats. That poor kitty had severe hyperthyroidism and she only lived for about a year after we adopted her.

After her, the first of our “just waltzed in the front door” cats happened. I was sound asleep, and a slightly sheepish, slightly hyper husband woke me up by saying “You know that fuzzy stray cat we’ve been seeing around?” Me, groggy: “Yeah.” Seth: “He’s in the downstairs bathroom.” Me, struggling to unearth myself from the blankets and sit up: “WHAT?” Seth: “Yeah… I opened the front door and he just… walked in.”

That, my friends, was the start of a trend in our lives. Seth opens the door to a stray cat and lets it just walk into our house. And it stays. We have now acquired 3 cats by that method. A fourth was a stray who came to our back door all bloodied up and needing vet care STAT. He didn’t walk in the door, we catnapped him and cleaned him up and stashed him in a bathroom until we could get him to the vet later that day. So while he didn’t technically walk in an opened door, he came close.

Not enough laps for all the cats. Wednesday (left) and Rocky (right).

When I acquire cats it tends to be more deliberate. I find folks who have kittens they’re trying to get rid of and bring one home in hopes Seth will decide it’s so cute it can stay.

In short, in our 21 years together, we have acquired 2 shelter cats, 2 kittens I heard word of, and 6 strays off the street who decided to stay. We’ve lost 4 cats to a car, hyperthyroidism, repeated urinary blockages (despite $2,000 surgery to turn him basically into a girl), and cancer. But we currently have a grand total of 6 cats. SIX CATS PEOPLE. We are seriously crazy.

Three of our cats, Sneakers, Rocky, and Wednesday, basically want nothing to do with the children. They’re adept at slinking underneath outstretched little hands and dashing off to do their own catly things.

Sneakers specializes in “try me” looks at the kids. They’re apparently effective because she gets left alone.

Three of our cats, though, truly love the children. And it brings me so much joy to watch their interactions.

It started with Pippin, one of Seth’s “waltzed in” cats. Little Mouse LOVED Pippin, and it was mutual. When she was a baby he’d snuggle up and nap with her and clean her little bald head. She’d fall asleep with her fingers tangled in his shaggy fur.

When she got to the toddler stage, he would tolerate her grabbing him round the middle and hugging him with all her toddler might. They had the sweetest relationship.

Pippin tolerates all the kids still, but he had a special relationship with Mouse that he hasn’t shared with any of the other kids, which makes me a little sad. I wonder if he misses Mouse like I do.

Then there’s Astrid, a.k.a. Le Shittén. She’s hell on wheels and a mischievous little shit and a carpet pee-er. But god, she’s great with the kids. They dress her up and carry her around and she just tolerates all of it with endless good grace. It’s her redeeming quality. She needs one.

And now there’s Romeo. He just moved in a couple of weeks ago (waltzed in the door like he owned the place) but he’s quickly gotten attached to the kids and has inserted himself into our bedtime routines. It’s so cute it hurts.

Bedtime story time now involves a white furry audience.

He helps me put Dude Man to bed by coming into the room and purring loudly the entire time I’m rocking the baby. Then he helps put Tiny to bed by listening to the story. I mean seriously. How much cuter can a cat be? It’s like he is so happy to have a family and is taking responsibility for each member in turn.

And that kind of thing is why we have 6 cats. Because in their own ways they’re each too damn cute. Also, there’s a sign over our door that reads “SUCKERS” in giant letters visible only to cats.

Relationships with Parents of our kids

Generally speaking, we’ve had good relationships with the parents of the kids in our care, or at least with the Moms who are doing the hard work to get their kids back. Dads have been hit or miss but the ones who have been engaged in services and visits we’ve had a good working relationship with.

How do we meet the parents of kids we are caring for? We meet our kids’ parents in court, and at medical appointments, and as things progress, often at visit handoffs.

We assess our relationship with a parent first in the presence of a case worker or medical professional or someone else in a position of authority before we give out phone numbers. But most of the time we have found parents to be able to engage at least mostly appropriately.

All that said, we are cautious. We don’t invite parents to our home until AFTER kids have been returned to the parents and then only selectively. We often give parents’ our phone numbers, but one time we didn’t when we knew Mom was pretty unstable and had a history of violence and association with people who were violent. In that case our contact with her was limited to the courthouse when we were waiting for her case to be called, but we were courteous and civil and showed her photos and videos of her kid while we waited. And then we took the court security officers’ advice and waited until she and her boyfriend were long gone before we exited the courthouse ourselves.

Have we made mistakes? A few. Mostly I’m just sad that a few parents have let us down. A particular Dad we did a lot for turned out to be a jerk to his kid. We had such high hopes for him! Seth even spent hours in the Dad’s driveway working on his car because having a vehicle was a condition of the child’s return and he couldn’t afford a tow and a repair shop. Another Dad couldn’t kick his drug habit despite several attempts and that makes me sad. He was super hard to get along with when he was using.

One pair of parents we wound up having little respect for because they were master manipulators, and they hated us for no good reason. They complained nonstop about everything we did no matter how hard we tried. We bought and installed a baby gate in their new apartment, but we put it in a place they didn’t like – they wanted it three inches further forward (where there was no stud to screw it to). After the kids were returned, they even complained vehemently that the brand new wardrobe I bought for one of the children – which I was under no obligation to do – contained too many pairs of leggings and not enough jeans. Sigh. Those parents had a number of kids and they were so difficult to get along with that several other foster families that had some of their kids wound up getting a mysterious CPS call made on them so the kids would be moved to another family. Double sigh. Sometimes parents make it hard to get along with them.

Do we do things the “right” way? Lordie, I don’t know. We’ve had good luck so far and I’m grateful for that. I know there are horror stories about kids getting abducted from foster homes by their parents and that’s a terrifying thing and it’s why we don’t share where we live with parents until after kids are home.

That said, I think most relationships between parents and foster parents COULD be positive, but many aren’t, and that’s so damn frustrating to me. I wish people would not go into foster parenting if their only goal is to adopt a child, because that’s not the point of foster care. The point is to get kids back home. I’ve seen how that can sour relationships between parents and foster parents as they “fight” over a child’s time and affections when in truth the only ones who get a say in the final outcome are the County and the courts.

We are off to a truly wonderful and very encouraging start with Dude Man’s Mama. We met her last week finally, and she’s clearly an incredibly loving Mom who has a great bond with Little Dude Man. He adores her. And vice versa. I’m very hopeful that we can have a constructive partnership with her while she works to get her children back.

Alas, she told us that the previous foster parents who had Little Dude Man were condescending and dismissive of her. In fact, they flagrantly refused to speak with her or even make eye contact with her. Eh hem, let me climb on my soapbox here: There’s no need for that nonsense. I find that kind of attitude toward parents so frustrating, because it’s not hard to treat people with basic courtesy. I get getting jaded – there are a lot of situations that wind up being less than ideal in foster care and that gets heart breaking. But if you are so jaded that you can’t be respectful and courteous to the parents of the kids you are caring for anymore then it’s time to hang up your foster care hat. And if you can’t get on board with the reality that foster care is about getting kids back with their families, then you should not put a foster care hat on at all.

(*climbing back down off soapbox*)

Aside from our belief that all humans are deserving of a little kindness, we firmly believe that it’s important to have a good relationship with parents. We’ve found that most parents are relieved after they meet us because we treat them with respect and clearly care about their kids. And in my way of thinking, that’s a hugely good thing. We want them to spend their energy on getting better, completing their services, and fighting their demons; we don’t want them expending all their energy worrying about the well-being of their kids.

We try our hardest to avoid a feeling of superiority (sometimes that’s really hard) when we see them making mistakes or doing things differently than we would. It is not our job to tell them how to raise their kids. That’s the job of the county to provide parenting classes and sometimes a parent aid. We recognize there are lots of valid ways to raise kids and our way isn’t the only way. The only time we’ve ever “corrected” a parent is with regard to car seat safety if they’re about to drive off with a kid for a visit and something is set up wrong so that it’s dangerous. We’ve done that several times now, not by being harsh, but by asking if we can please help with car seat setup. We’ve been lucky that they’ve been receptive. But other than that it is not our job to tell the parents anything. That way lies resentment and frustration and a degrading relationship.

That said, we have a couple of times reported to a case worker that we think parents could use some help with certain things they’re doing. Like when the daycare reported to us that the Mom of one of our kids drove her kid back to daycare with her child on her lap. And when one of the two parents was showing up to visits obviously high. Thus far case workers have not blown us in for tattling and I pray that continues!

Is our relationship with parents always good? Nope. See above re: the people we dubbed the master manipulators, and the mom we were afraid would try to jump us outside the courthouse. But is it constructive and positive more often than not? Definitely. I just hope our luck continues as long as we foster!