6 Things To Know About Foster-Adoption

I've got a new piece up today on The Huffington Post. Here's a snippet of the article:

...There seems to be an overall lack of knowledge in the general public regarding foster care and foster-adopt. This can cause misunderstandings that may seem insignificant to those outside the world of foster-adopt, but to those living in this world, these misunderstandings can be isolating.
I’ve heard many foster-adopt parents begin sentences with, “If people only knew…” 

In an attempt to educate, I asked foster-adoptive parents from one of my state’s local support groups what they wish others knew about foster-adopt. Here are six themes that emerged: 

1. Adopted children were first loved and wanted by another family; their biological family were simply not in a position to raise and parent their kids. Our adopted children were not “given up” the way one discards a sweater that has become stretched and faded. Our children were placed with us to become their forever family, and we said yes even though we were scared and unsure and may have had little information.

Click here to read the full-text of the article!

Adoption is Not Second Best

I'm a little late in posting this, but last week I had a new piece go live on Her View From Home where I dispel the myth that adoption is second best. Like many posts, I've thought about writing this for at least six months now, but after a conversation during a long run with my best friend (also an adoptive momma!), I finally reached enough clarity to actually write the piece. Here's a teaser of the article; click here to read the full text. 

Those kids is how many people refer to my kids. The phrase rings with an air of pity and a twinge of thankfulness that someone else was willing to step in and adopt those kids. It’s a phrase often used with no harm intended, but the connotations are heavy. My kids aren’t those kids; no kids are those kids…kids in foster care or available for adoption are simply, kids.

To read the full text of this article, click here. If you're feeling generous, feel free to share the article on your favorite social media outlets!

Speaking back to the stereotypes of foster parents

I came across this video on the interwebs made by What Would You Do?, one of those hidden camera shows that stages scenarios in order to see what kind of reaction they receive from onlookers. This particular staged situation portrays foster parents as greedy people only in foster care for the money who treat their foster kids as second-class children. The video is a little over eight minutes long, but it took me about 20 minutes to watch; I had to walk away a few times because it made me so mad. Here are three reasons why I take issue with the video:

3 Things my kids' tantrums have taught me

Here's a snippet of my latest post up today on Her View From Home:

"When my husband and I chose foster to adopt to expand our family, we were prepared to love and provide for our kids. We were even prepared to constantly have caseworkers and therapists in our home and for the required hoop jumping for foster care and adoption. What we were completely unprepared for was the tantrums--the raging, the kicking, the hitting, the destruction, the 90 minutes of screaming. We didn't know how to bounce back after one of these fits of rage. But, after two years in the trenches, our kids' tantrums have taught us three valuable lessons...."

To read the full text of this post, click here. Feel free to share it on social media or leave a comment!

Understanding Reactive Attachment Disorder

Our kids (both adopted from foster care) have Reactive Attachment Disorder. Kids with RAD engage in intense power struggles with their caregivers because they have learned their previous caregivers didn't do a good job of meeting their needs.

For our kids, here's what these power struggles look like: If we give our kids a two-step instruction, they do the second step before they do the first step. If we ask them to put on their coat before school, they'll put on their backpack instead. I laid out a lightweight coat for my daughter last week during our 50-60 degree weather streak; she asked for a warmer one. I explained why we were wearing our spring coats, and she insisted she wear her winter coat throughout the week. If we issue a consequence to our kids, they will yell that we are mean and scream and kick for sometimes up to an hour. When I ask J to walk, he runs. When I ask K to run, she walks. Our daughter has to know everything that is going on: what we are doing each day, when we are leaving, when we are coming home, what we are eating, etc. Our son "spies" on my husband and me when we're having conversations--he simply cannot go play while the two of us talk. Sometimes our daughter even refuses to complete basic hygiene tasks (hand-washing, wiping after pottying, showering, etc). In therapy we've been working on trust--so, the therapist blindfolds the kids and has one of us lead the child around the office. Immediately, their arms and hands begin to feel for something familiar. They stick out a foot and feel around before taking a step. A nervous giggle sometimes turns into out of control laughing. Our kids fight for control in nearly every situation.

Conversely, they are totally sweet and compliant around strangers or those who they don't have a deep relationship with because they've learned how to "work a crowd." In the past they've used others to get what they need: food, attention, hugs, diaper changes, etc. K demonstrates this by giving lots of hugs and wanting to be right next to others (teachers, day care staff, relatives) at all times. She'll play with their hair, touch their jewelry, compliment them on their clothes/house/hair/etc. J exercises perfect compliance in new situations with new people. At every school he's ever attended, he's gone three months with no behavioral incidents. After three months when he sees he's not going anywhere, the deal is off. This year the principal and teachers were so concerned and emailed us multiple times in October when J let his guard down; I explained that this is the real J--that now he feels safe at school and knows he's not going anywhere....I'm sure they thought I was a nut-bag.

This morning on the way to school J argued with me about something; I replied by saying, "Thank you for letting me know that we still need to practice being compliant" (a phrase our therapist has instructed us to use). J retorted with a top-of-his-lungs scream, throwing his backpack at me, yelling I was mean, and kicking the back of seat until we arrived at school. While at a stop light, I reached behind me and took his shoes off so he didn't damage my car. He was still out of control when the bell rang, so I scooped him out of the car--shoeless---and carried him into school. The principal, the secretary, and a handful of kids stared, mouths open. I sat him down in the front foyer and we practiced following instructions until he was ready to go to school....late for the fifth time this year thanks to these morning power struggles.

Admittedly: I am EXHAUSTED. The mental effort and physical restraint it takes to parent my children is leaving me feeling like an overused simile. My body aches on a regular basis. My nerves are shot. Taking my kids both into public places alone, is my nightmare because it inevitably elicits judgmental stares from strangers when I use the integrative parenting techniques suggested by our therapist and RAD literature. And still, I love them. I love them so much that I'll quit my full-time job (that I love) to be more free to take them to counseling and Occupational Therapy and psychiatry appointments or just to run to school to eat lunch with them. I love them so much that I'll fight my instinct to spank them when they're defiant because physical consequences don't work for RAD kids. I love them so much that I'll drag my ass and theirs to a store in the evening so we can practice being appropriate while I shop. I love them so much that I'll bypass reading my new memoir to read a book on parenting kids with attachment trauma. I love them so much that I'll try to ignore the judgmental stares and comments from people who have no clue what it's like to parent my children. I will love them through their tantrums--I'll pop in my ear plugs and rub their back while they scream and kick out all their mad. Parenting kids with attachment trauma is tough work...so find a foster or a foster-adoptive parent and give them a hug, buy them a beer, withhold advice (especially if you're not or have ever been a foster parent), and tell them they're doing a good job because, damn, they need this encouragement.

Our upcoming big day

On Thursday morning we make J's adoption final! We have family joining us for the event and are planning on making an entire day of it celebrating his official christening as a Helzer.

I cannot believe 7 months have passed since he first moved in with us. The transition was no walk in the park. Nate and I had no experience parenting, and J had not had two consistent parents for quite some time. I think the struggle, though, taught us all about unconditional love.

Like a five year old is wont to do, J has flip-flopped back and forth between being excited about his adoption and saying he doesn't want to be adopted. He can't ever articulate why he is or is not excited; I'm not sure he fully understands his emotions. But I think he is scared this adoption thing is not going to happen. He is old enough to have memories with his birth mom and birth dad, his removal from the home, his time in foster care, etc. He's old enough to remember his trauma even if he can't put words to it. So tonight when we read a book about adoption, it did not break my heart when he said he didn't want to be adopted and change his name to Helzer. Imagine being old enough to experience all he has, to be told that you'd be going back "home" only to end up in a stranger's home who tells you they're going to be your new mom and dad. No matter how much we eased him into this, he's bound to feel troubled by it, to feel allegiance to his first family even though it was traumatizing.

While he isn't as excited about the adoption as we are, I do hope it's a day that is joyful for him, one that he'll remember fondly. I hope someday he will understand all of this and that he'll feel special because we chose him to be our son and love forever despite any scars and wounds. I hope he comes to know that we love him unconditionally for the rest of our lives.

Parental compromising

It's 6 AM on a Saturday; I've been up for one hour. Nate has been up for three. J woke up at 3:00 asking if he could get up and play. When I conceded to the fact I wouldn't be sleeping any later, I stumbled into the kitchen to make my morning coffee nearly tripping on the dog who looked up at me as if to say, Remember when we slept until 8 on Saturdays?

Like any new parent, I catch myself mid-J's super tantrums reminiscing about the way things were BK (before kids). Sometimes, I'm sure other adoptive parents can relate, I slip up and think, This would be easier if it were my biological child...I know easier isn't the correct term; I know different would be a more applicable word. It's just hard to think this way when J does things that are completely antithetical to our own tendencies. Because I'm parenting a child who doesn't have my incredible genetic makeup (she says with sarcasm dripping from her lips) I find myself in compromising positions at times: things I never thought I'd do as a parent, I'm doing now as a parent.

Allow me to articulate.

J's been experiencing some difficulties at school. He is hyperactive and defiant. A lethal combination for any classroom. I've worked with kids long enough to know that sometimes kids don't choose to by hyperactive and defiant...sometimes it's a part of their make-up---whether biological or by the environment they're caretakers have created. Of course, kids need to be taught how to control their defiance and exercise it appropriately (there is a time and place for defiance!) as well as how to manage their hyperactivity--but teaching this to a five year old who has just warmed up to the idea of us being his forever-parents, is no easy task. Per his therapist's recommendation, I issue him clear rewards/consequences each day on the way to school. We discuss ways to deal with stressful situations and we each pray asking God to give us strength to make the right choices and to be a good friend. After a while, a reward and consequence ends up losing its impact forcing a parent to think of new ways to enforce good behavior in his/her brood. This particular morning, I was tired beyond belief and frustrated from one of J's super fun morning tantrums where he screams and cries and throws things for no apparent reason at 6:00 in the morning before I've had my morning coffee. At a loss for a new reward or consequence, "Buddy," I blurted, "if you have a good day today, we can have donuts tomorrow morning." I may as well have said, "Hey kid--have a good day, and I 'll hand you some sugar cubes to suck on." Fortunately (or unfortunately?), J did not earn the donuts that day.

Believing J's struggles are primarily biological, a psychiatrist has recommended we put little J on meds to help balance out this hyperactivity and defiance. Both Nate and I worry about meds. I've seen kids on meds turn into zombies with no personality. I've also seen meds take what seems like an unbearable kid and turn him into a pleasant child who is able to focus. I know some people need medications. I just don't want to jump to meds too soon. While we do research on different meds, we're conducting the Mountain Dew experiment with J. Doctors suggested this to my own parents who were exasperated at my hyperactivity as a child. Give a hyperactive child a high concentration of caffeine, and it will slow the kid down enough so they can focus more clearly. I'm not convinced this is a scientific experiment, and I cringe at the idea of giving a five year old soda (I don't even drink soda), but I will be pouring him a glass this morning and again in the afternoon.

I can see this compromising in two ways: I'm a failure parent who has given into pure bribery to reach her child, or I'm doing the best I can at meeting this kid where he's at. Frankly, it takes a lot of work to believe the second view. Being a foster-adoptive parent feels incredibly isolating. When J is around our friends and family, he is an absolute charmer. Of our support system, we are the only people who see him in his true form. Each day is a struggle to do what's right and fight the deprecating thoughts that lurk in the cobwebs...a battle every parent can relate to.

Adoption and the issues that come with it

Well the Medicaid debacle has been resolved! After resubmitting paperwork three different times, little guy was finally approved for Medicaid. Praise God...this is such a huge burden lifted from our shoulders. Because this was remedied, we were able to set an adoption date. J officially becomes a Helzer on March 6th. We've taken the whole day off and have invited our immediately family to join us in the courtroom as we make this thing official. We cannot wait to make that day special for J--one he will remember for the rest of his life.

As we prepare to make the adoption official, there have been some interesting things to think about come up. First, our adoption date was scheduled for the day of parent-teacher conferences. When I first talked with our immediate supervisor about it, I was told to "come when we could" to conferences. We politely explained that we would not be at conferences because it is J's special day, and family, of course, is our first priority. Our supervisors were okay with this, but they expected us to "make up" conferences some way. Initially, we were more than willing to "make up" conferences by meeting with parents that next day (a half work day for us). But the more I think about it, the more I realize how crazy this is. I realize that growing a family through adoption is not the same as growing a family "naturally," so maybe my comparisons are off base--but if I were to squeeze out a baby the day of conferences, I'm sure Nate and I wouldn't be required to make up the time to meet with parents. I'm almost certain we'd be told to take care of our family. Instead, we're expected to return the next day and do our jobs as if nothing has changed in our lives. A colleague asked if I would take maternity leave after our adoption. "Uh...probably not. J's in school; what would I even do?" I responded. I hadn't even thought of taking maternity leave until she asked me. I did some research this weekend and realized that we are allowed up to 30 days of leave for the adoption under FMLA. I thought about how nice it would be to take even two weeks off wrap up a few things--to make a scrapbook for J; to read about ADHD, parenting traumatized children, etc; to go through his stuff; to begin to clear our second bedroom to make way for another foster child or to have available to provide emergency respite; and honestly...to just let this sudden growth in our family sink in. J moved in with us three days before school started. We didn't have a nine month period to acclimate to the idea of having a child. Part of me feels silly for wanting to take this leave--part of me is afraid I'll have to justify this to people who will think it's ridiculous that I take the leave, to people who will probably never understand the difficulties of becoming a parent to a child who has been traumatized and is old enough to remember this trauma. There's also the reality that if I use more than my allotted leave time (10 sick days a year), I could be transferred to a new school. Because of my vocal chord problems, I've already used 5 sick days this year (more than I've had to use in my 5 1/2 years of teaching!). I only have 5 sick days left. I don't know what the likelihood is of the aforementioned transfer, but I'd hate for this to happen. For the first time in a few years, I enjoy where I'm at and the classes I'm teaching.

All this because we chose to adopt a child...I'm thrilled to be making J's adoption final, but I'm not thrilled to have these other issues clouding the joy.

Secret thoughts of a new mother

Preface: Yesterday we had our annual winter board meeting for the Nebraska Writing Project. We meet in the morning, have lunch, and then venture out on a writing marathon for the afternoon. For four years I've attended this writing marathon and have cherished this time in Lincoln writing with some of Nebraska's finest teachers. Yesterday, however, feeling overwhelmed, I skipped out after lunch and went on my own writing marathon.  Here's what came from it: 

For seven years I dreamed of being a mom. And now, here I am: six months a mother and today I find myself escaping the role. I could be at home--I could've been home two hours ago, but I'm still in Lincoln, hiding out at a little coffee shop that is literally underground. I want to stay and wander the streets of Lincoln--spend money on frivolous things like Billy Collins poetry books, handmade earrings in the shapes of birds, and notebooks touting Whitman quotes on the front cover. I want to crawl into a tavern, drink a black and tan and eat all carbs and no vegetables. I want to strike up conversations with adults, conversations that don't include mention of bodily functions or superheroes.

I don't know how to deal with this sudden 24/7 responsibility that has given me a new identity. No longer am I Danielle--the teacher, writer, and aspiring intellectual. Now I am Danielle--J's mom--laundry folder, kid-wrangler. In some social situations I don't even know who to flock to anymore. Normally I gravitate towards readers, writers, thinkers, and society-shakers, but I feel like all I have to talk about is my new role as a mother since that's really all I've had time for lately. It seems natural then to lean towards mothers--especially new mothers. However, I don't feel like a "real" mom. I don't have labor and delivery stories, diaper-changing memories, or breast-feeding tips. So I'm an outcast--a haggard outcast who had read nothing more substantial than the newspaper or a fly-by article in The Atlantic once a month.

Deep down I think I am still a writer and aspiring intellectual, but this identity is buried beneath layers of insecurities from my new identity as a mom. Perhaps this is why I'm stuck in this underground coffee shop an hour away from my home spilling my heart on paper. I have a feeling there's a way to merge the two--who I once was with who I now am, but I haven't figured it out yet. Right now I just feel guilty for this confusion. Before we were blessed with little man, I hated hearing moms lament about their kids or their loss of freedom, but now that I'm here, I get it. Of course I appreciate my son, and I wouldn't change my life for anything. It's just difficult to transition rather suddenly into this new role. I didn't have a baby stewing inside of me for nine months forming that natural attachment; my baby came as a four year-old--broken and reluctant to accept me as his mom. I know this confusion is natural, but I can't help feeling like Douglas county's worst mother for feeling a need to escape.

I hope someday I'll feel like my same old self again. But...maybe feeling like my old self isn't the point at all. Maybe the point of all of this is to figure out who I'm intended to be....

Glitch in the adoption process

Of course, things can never be smooth for us. We are complication magnets.

The week before Christmas we had a family team meeting with all of the caseworkers involved in our fostering/adoption of little man. We had been preparing our subsidy and paperwork to send off to the Department of Health and Human Services for his adoption. The subsidy and continued Medicaid would help us to continue providing therapy for little man, would cover any meds he might need in the future, and would financially cover any future trips to psychologists, psychiatrists, therapists, etc. He has experienced quite a lot in his five years that will take professional help to address. He has also developed some extreme behavior tendencies that often prevent him from achieving success and could possibly interfere with academics later on in his life if help is not provided early. Because he's still a foster kid, all of his current treatments are covered by Medicaid. While we filled out our paperwork for the subsidy and Medicaid, we were assured there would be no problems; he would receive both a subsidy and Medicaid. So at this family team meeting, we found out that DHHS denied him for Medicaid. DENIED. Paperwork was re-submitted, phone calls were made, emails sent, and still he was denied.

Tonight we met with a representative from an agency who is handling little man's permanency plan who was able to explain this denial more fully. Apparently this agency, which deals with all of the foster and foster to adopt cases in eastern Nebraska, was notified the day before a new policy change with Medicaid that would essentially deny kids Medicaid on certain grounds that are incredibly gray rather than black and white. It sounds like little man's paperwork was the first to be processed with this new law. Currently we have two options: accept only the subsidy (a monthly stipend) and move on with the adoption process or take DHHS to court and drag out the adoption an undefined amount of time (but I can only imagine this would take months). There is a local advocacy agency who has agreed to provide us legal representation because this new policy change happened so quickly and doesn't appear to have followed the standard protocol for changing policy (essentially this is a revision to a law, so it's filled with heavy legal stuff that I don't even pretend to understand); ultimately this agency is suspicious of this recent policy change. What none of us can figure out is how our little man can be eligible to receive Medicaid now to cover treatment for his extreme behavior issues, but when he is adopted, he will no longer be eligible for help with no explanation as to why he will not receive help. It's as if these people think his adoption would magically cure him of any issue he would ever have...despite being diagnosed with psychiatric disorders from licensed medical professionals. The documentation we've provided in support of little man receiving Medicaid is undeniable: he needs help and will continue to need help. With our teaching salaries, there is no way we could afford to provide him the help he needs without assistance from Medicaid. If this new Medicaid policy goes left unchallenged, it could mean scores of Nebraska foster-adopt kids won't get assistance they need; it could mean that wards of the state would wait longer for adoptive families because there may not be assistance for these families.

Part of me wants to just accept the subsidy and scrape by eating rice and beans simply so we can make little man official--so he can be a Helzer. It would just be that finalization that I think he needs right now. Selfishly, I don't wait to take DHHS to court because I want to move on with our family. But....another huge part of me feels a huge responsibility to see how this plays out in court for the sake of other kids. I've always been one to fight for injustice; if I can intervene, why shouldn't I? Gah. There's just too much to think about.

So, in the next week we'll be contacting an attorney from the previously mentioned agency to see what we can do, crunching numbers with our anticipated subsidy figures and the cost of mental health professionals---and praying we make the right decision (all while parenting and teaching). If you're the praying type, please pray we would have wisdom and peace throughout this process.

What do you do when you feel like the world's worst parent?

On Sunday afternoon, we asked little man to clean his room. He had spent most of the day dumping out all of his toys playing. We gave him about 15-20 minutes to clean; a perfectly acceptable time frame in our eyes. About every five minutes, we went into his room to remind him to keep cleaning and that all of his toys that weren't put away would take a time out. Each time I walked in, he was deep in play. Cleaning was clearly the furthest thing from his little mind. I wanted so badly to toss the toys into his bins; a task that would've taken me all of two minutes. I knew that after the 20 minutes, there would still be toys on the floor. We'd take them, and then he'd throw a fit. I wanted to avoid that, but I knew I needed to let this learning opportunity unfold. I resisted. And then all hell broke loose.

We explained (again) that his toys would take a time out for the rest of the night since he did not follow instructions. He screamed. We asked him to please stand up and take a deep breath. He threw his body on the ground. We asked again.  He kicked and hit his fists on the ground and yelled. We asked him again to stand up and take a breath, and if he did not, we would continue to take toys out of his room. The screaming continued. And pretty soon, his room was empty. Literally...empty. The bunk bed and dresser remained. He even lost his sheets and blankets because he ripped them off the bed during his tantrum (it's been our policy at home that if he cannot treat things nicely, he will lose them for a while). All of his room went into the next door office despite his pleading, sobbing, and trying to pull toys from our hands. When the room was clear, we asked him to stand up and take a deep breath or we'd start to take his birthday and Christmas presents too. The tantrum got worse. We took his presents. We made him sit in his bare room until he was done and calm down. An hour later, he was ready to talk and we were exhausted.

We made him put all of his stuff from the office back into his room by himself and explained the presents would have to be earned back by not receiving safety rooms at school (these are isolated time outs away from the other kids that really take a lot to get). We know he can go without safety rooms because he's done it many, many times. We know that he can snap out of his tantrums and we're trying to teach him how to do this, but I feel like nothing we try is working. It's two days until his birthday, and he has only earned one of three birthday presents back and has earned no Christmas presents.

My fear is his birthday will come and we'll have to return presents because he did not earn them back. Part of me wants to stick to my guns and take the presents back to show him we will follow through (though I really don't think he questions our follow through. We are not wafflers!). The other part of me thinks this would be a great lesson to demonstrate God's grace and explain how God gave us the free gift of salvation and eternal life even though we make bad choices. How do we know which is the right decision? I'm exhausted thinking about it. Today I feel like the world's worst...and meanest...parent.

Adoption

I guess I realized this week that this is the only space I haven't made our upcoming adoption public, so this is me making it public. The end of this month will mark four months with our little man. It's been a trying four months, but last week we were reviewing some of his files and doing paperwork for our adoption finalization, and we were reminded how much he's grown in a year. He's an incredible little boy whose traveled a rough road, and unfortunately his memory is impeccable. We are not rock star parents, but we are stable for him. And stability does a whole lot of good for kids.

After he's with us for 6 month, he can officially become ours. He has begun calling us mom and dad more consistently, and a few times he's said his last name was Helzer. He also claims Sampson is his brother, so I'd say he's fairly warm to the idea of us adopting him. 

While the road to parenthood has not been easy for us, I wouldn't trade it for anything. This little guy has captured our hearts and made us feel a love we've never known before.

This is me attempting to write

A busy four year old, student papers, work commitments, and my own laziness have kept me away from writing far too long. Nevertheless, I'm back. I hope to be back writing more substantial posts on a more regular basis. Here's what's happened while I was away: 

• Little man has begun calling us mom and dad intermittently. His understanding of family is becoming more "normal." I think he finally realizes that we are not leaving and we're not giving up on him. It's been a rough three months, and while we still have work to do, when I look back and see how much this little guy has grown, my heart swells. It's hard to contain my emotion on this topic.
• I'm hitting a teaching stride at my new school. I finally feel comfortable in the classroom again. Last year I second-guessed every decision, no matter how insignificant the decision was. A change of venue has been good for me.  My students are challenging, but I like challenging. My goal is to engage them in a way that is natural and thoughtful without all the bells and whistles and entertainment. Currently we're wrapping up the play Our Town, a play that many students find boring and irrelevant. And while I'm sure many of students feel this way about the play, for the past few days while we've read and discussed it, 97% of my students stayed awake. This is no small accomplishment, so I danced out of school that day in celebration. 
• My voice is still raspy and exhausted. I just finished a round of voice therapy and will visit the ENT again (I'm pretty sure I've paid her mortgage this month) to be told, I'm sure, that I just need to talk less and wait it out. For three months I've been unable to sing; this seems silly, but it's bringing me down hard core. 
• I've cut my mileage down to focus more on being a mom...and guess what: I've come to enjoy running more without the pressures of training weighing down on me. Hopefully this elation carries through the cold winter months. 
• I'm reading again...I've vowed to leave pedagogy alone for now. I'm currently reading Catching Fire and after that am hoping to pick up a copy of The Fault in our Stars. I just need to escape more often so I don't fold under the stresses of parenting and teaching and run away to Portland to become a barista. 

The rest of what I could write most would find dreadfully boring...not that this post is riveting, but it does launch me back into a habit of writing. Stay tuned. 

Headaches and hair loss

Today I think I truly realized that our little dude is way different from us. It's not a bad thing, it's just when I got married, I assumed we'd have kids naturally who would then share some of the same qualities as us: charming, hilarious, smart (stroking the ole ego here)...stubborn, fiery, sassy, clumsy...Even if the kid displays the non-desirable qualities, it seems like they might be easier to deal with since they are at least familiar. However, parenting another person's kid who is nothing like either one of us is proving confusing (that's putting it mildly). Obviously I knew little man is not equal parts me and Nate (the curly hair is a dead give away), but watching him play soccer today really reaffirmed it. I am a competitive person, and I think I was pretty high energy as a kid--as was Nate--so watching our little man stand on the soccer field with his hands in his mouth while most of the other kids herded around the soccer ball on the opposite side of the field was a frustrating experience for both of us. I still can't talk, so I could only text things to Nate to say to encourage little guy to participate---but nothing we said worked. He continued to mosey along the field like nobody else was there. I don't know why it frustrated us so much, but by the end of the hour long ordeal--Nate and I were just frazzled. It seems like this is a common feeling for us lately....

We're two months into this parenting gig, and of course, we are doing the best we can for our little man, but I often feel like we come up short. What works one time with him, doesn't work the second time; I'm all out of creative ideas. Pinterest isn't helping either; those tips may work for super moms but apparently I am not a super mom because having little guy hold his tongue for a time after he says bad words just makes him scream louder, or directing him to stomp on the driveway instead of tantruming again just makes him scream louder and makes us seem like the neighborhood crazies. And the book our therapist gave us on the Boys Town model of parenting: CRAP. None of it worked.

We try our hardest to be consistent with our expectations and consequences, but still, it seems like we do little good. I know it will take time for him to adjust to our home--probably way more time than we originally thought. But my head is pounding, and Nate is losing more hair (if that's even possible)...So what's a parent to do when all hope seems gone?

My fears

Last weekend was our first full weekend with the little man, and like we expected would happen during our first long weekend--we experienced the behaviors people had been telling us about. The trigger: exhaustion. He met my family on Friday night and played hard outside with them, and then Saturday morning we set out for an overnight camping trip nearby with the Helzer family. He spent the entire weekend being active outdoors (he also has bad allergies), and on Sunday when we got home, he melted. All over. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. It was like we were dealing with a completely different kid for about 25 minutes. I won't go into specifics about his behavior, but at one point I ended up in the living room sobbing, and Nate--my typically strong, unshakable husband, had a slight quiver in his voice. Eventually the storm subsided. We talked through it, brainstormed better behaviors, and dished out consequences. But the rest of the day and really, for about three days after, my fears about this placement, a possible adoption, and parenting took root in my mind.

There's so much I fear about this new stage in our life. I fear that we're not prepared to parent this child who is resiliant beyond belief yet still delicate. I fear Sunday's tantrum will happen when he's at children's church and that it will cause him to be labeled by the other kids and their parents. I fear people will not be understanding with his behaviors, that they'll fail to realize there is a very good reason why he acts this way. I'm nervous that the other grandkids on Nate's side won't get along with him. I've always had this fear that if we adopted/fostered a child, that he/she would be an outcast in the family since he/she isn't a biological, blood relative. I fear our marriage will suffer. I'm nervous that little man will pick up on the fact that we're novice parents feeling our way through. I'm nervous that I'll be too overbearing with him. I fear we're not "spiritual" enough to develop in him a hunger for the Lord. I worry about disciplining him--do I give time-outs or time-ins?  I fear if this does end up as a long term placement, he'll never attach to us or we'll never attach to him.

The truth is, I'm nervous about the entire transition to becoming full time parents. In one week we will catapult into an entirely different lifestyle. We've desired to be parents for nearly 7 years now, but that's 7 years of adapting to a certain lifestyle where we can go where we want, when we want. I'm ecstatic about the opportunity to be parents to little man whether for a short time or long term--but I guess I never realized the adjustment it would be for 7 year DINKs (double income no kids) like us.

Despite being utterly exhausted yesterday, I stayed up late reading just about every article about adoption, attachment, and discipline that is posted on Focus on the Family's website to try and prepare myself and ease my mind. I ran across this verse in one of the articles, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not be afraid" (John 14:27). Peace for my worrying heart will not come from articles. They may help ease my mind, but prayer and faith in God will bring true peace.  I fell asleep yesterday praying for wisdom, peace, and guidance as we parent this boy. I prayed that we'd be able to protect this boy from harm, nurture him well, and help him grow into a well-adjusted young man who serves the Lord. I was able to fall asleep that night peacefully for the first time in three nights. It will take a lot of prayer and time to help settle my troubled heart, but over time I hope replacing worry with prayer and faith will come more automatically to me.

Foster care 101

Let me begin by saying that I am still trying to feel my way through this whole foster-parenting business. I don't have all of the answers to every question, and sometimes I don't even know where to begin to find out the answers. On our walk last night, Nate and I talked through a few "foster care issues" we'd each been mulling on individually, and it was surprising to hear how many varied questions we each had. As we talked we realized that if we had this many questions after taking a 10 week training course on the topic, we can't imagine how many questions others might have. So this post is an attempt to address some FAQ's or anticipated FAQ's; I tend to take on a bit of a snarky tone at times mainly because I appreciate sarcasm. Please don't be offended.

Why do you always call him "little man" in this space? And why haven't you posted any mug shots of the cutie-patootie?!
Believe me, I WANT to post pictures of little man, but due to confidentiality, we cannot. We cannot share photos online, reveal identifying information, share personal information about his background/family story.

So, what's his story? Why is he in foster care? Where are his parents?
Many people have asked these questions. And while I think people are generally well-intentioned when asking, I also find the questions a little nosy. This information is incredibly personal and cannot be shared with others. It's not our story to tell.

What should I call him? 
Okay, I know this seems like a bizarre question, but let me explain:  Nate and I talked last night about how we will introduce him to people--he's not our son and he knows we're not his parents (though we will treat him and love him as if he were our own), and saying he's our friend just makes us look creepy. We also don't want to introduce him as our foster son because that's a big label with lots of connotations. He's young enough that he doesn't understand the concept of foster care; he doesn't know he's a "foster kid." So, we will introduce him to others by calling him his name. And if you should meet him, please don't ask, "Oh, is this your FOSTER KID?!" No matter how much the question is marked with enthusiasm, it will still provide for an awkward situation. And nobody likes to be awkward. If you don't know his name or who he is, treat him like you would any other person and ask him his name.

How long will he be with you?
He'll be with us for however long God wants him to be with us. This is part of the excitement and uncertainty of foster care.

Why does he do ____________?
If you've spent any amount of time with children, you know they are unpredictable little boogers who sometimes do odd things that leave adults scratching their noggins. A teacher once told me that there is a reason behind every behavior. The more time I spend with people (not just kids), the more I believe this. When I keep this concept in mind, I tend to be more understanding and gracious with others. That doesn't mean I let people get away with murder because they were exposed to violence at a young age--appropriate consequences still apply for unacceptable behavior. However, this does mean that I try to understand why said person did said thing instead of labeling the person by his/her behavior. For example, I had a student once who would punch the wall or drop F-bombs whenever he was angry. Each time he did this, I'd give a consequence (a trip to the office for the demonstration of excellent vocabulary acquisition) or a detention or other appropriate consequence for his incredible pain threshold (seriously, the kid never flinched when he beat the concrete wall). It would have been easy to label him as a "bad kid" because of his behaviors. Doing so would've made the years I spent with him unbearable. Though it was frustrating and difficult, I tried to step back and understand why he engaged in these behaviors by talking to him after he was cooled off (it never did me any good to talk to him when he was punching walls or spitting out swear words). If our little man does something odd, like dip his pizza in his applesauce (which he is prone to do) or otherwise, please, please don't write him off as weird, messed up, bad, etc. Remember: there is a reason behind every behavior. (Side bar: Please tell us about unusual behavior, but don't ask why he did _____ either; we likely can't tell you anyway).

How much do you get paid to be a foster parent?
Really? How much do you get paid to do your job? 'Nuff said. (All sarcasm aside: I have no idea how much a foster parent gets paid. I think it's a case by case situation.)

This post has dragged on long enough. If you have other questions, please feel free to leave them in the comments or email me personally. I promise to avoid sarcasm in my response. We truly appreciate your interest in our process of becoming parents!

Needs and would-like's

Preface: This post makes me feel a little selfish, but many of our family and friends want to help and have asked for specifics on what we need for the little dude. Now that we've spent a little more time with him and have done our first overnight (that was successful, I might add!), we know more about what we need. So for those of you who have asked--here's our more specific list of needs and would-like's to help make the transition to our home a little more smooth for the little guy:

• Little kid medicine stuff (we had to give him some liquid allergy medicine this weekend, and he was insistent that our Pampered Chef teaspoon was not what we should be using to give him his medicine)--thermometer, medicine spoons, etc.
• We have started a small collection of clothes thanks to some awesome friends, but we could always use more. He currently wears a 4T. Pajamas, athletic shorts, socks, underwear, church clothes, etc. would all be nice. 
• Shoes--he wears a size 10 right now.
• An outdoor storage system for all of our outdoor toys. We have become "those" people--the ones who leave their kid's baseballs, bats, buckets, trucks, etc. scattered throughout the lawn. 
• Toys--he LOVES, LOVES, LOVES firetrucks, police cars, and motorcycles. He was also smitten with the play tool set that we saw at Target. He's a big Spiderman fan as well.
• Games/puzzles/tactile learning games--this kid is brilliant. He can put together a 48 piece puzzle in no time. He loves problem solving, tactile games. 
• Boy books--have I mentioned how heartbroken I am that he's not a fan of reading? I won't give up hope here. Boy books about trucks, superheros, gross things, etc. would be fantastic. 
• Bath stuff--toys, towels, wash cloths (we actually only have two wash cloths...is that weird?!), etc.
• Clock for his room--he's very into knowing what time it is. 
• Kitchen stuff--Plates with a lip around the edge; the plates without the lip don't work well for him. Most of the food usually ends up in his lap or in Sampson's mouth. We have enough cups (thanks to the Nebesniaks and Valentis!), and he has one Camelbak bottle that he loves, but another water bottle might be nice. 
• Inflatable pool--he's a bit freaked out by water right now, so we thought this might help ease his fears. 
• A slip and slide--really, this is more for me than him.
• Movies -- examples such as Veggie Tales, SpongeBob, Dora, Thomas the Train

I think this is about all for now.  Again, we are not too good to receive hand-me-downs, garage sale items, etc! Hopefully we'll get a chance to introduce him to many of you in the next few weeks! Thanks to those of you who have helped us so far through prayer, kind words, or by buying stuff for us. We appreciate it! 

Everything I need to know about parenting, I'm learning from a four year-old

Today was our first "full day"with the little dude. 11 hours straight. Some of you parents with one, two, three or more children, won't even blink at our 11 hour visit, but it was exhausting for us. For seven years we've basically had peace and quiet with just the two of us. A busy four year old can quickly shatter that silence...in a good way. Tonight when we dropped him off, I expected to be excited to return to a quiet home. But once we got home, the house was just too quiet. Little man's mini-CamelBak water bottle remained on the table from dinner and our towels and sunscreen from today's escapade through the sprinkler lingered on our back deck. The house just felt feels empty. I'm glad we're taking our time with the transition to move him over to our house (it's looking like he might be living with us by late July/early August), but the joy and excitement he brings to our house is incredible. Our visit today wasn't all unicorns farting butterflies--there were some serious good choice/bad choice conversations, a time out here and there, and some pure head-scratching instances.

Aside from common sense and what we've learned from our foster/adoption classes, I'm basically and idiot when it comes to parenting. Luckily, this four year old is teaching me all I need to know. Here's just a few lessons from the day:

• Farmers markets are not as interesting to a lively four year old boy as they are to me. He was well-behaved after we bought him donut holes...(except for the small incident where he threw the last three on the ground because he didn't like them any more...and after Nate made him pick them up and throw them in a trash can)
• Sometimes donuts ARE the answer. The minute we got to the farmers market he told us he was hungry and proceeded to tell us he was hungry every two minutes until we finally found a vendor selling something that wasn't green. 
• Kids are messy; ergo, a house with a kid in it will not be spic and span. The kid tries incredibly hard (after he's reminded) to eat with a fork. But he's still at the stage where he has to steady his watermelon with his left hand and stab it with his right hand. Of course, the juice from the watermelon and the broccoli from his plate ended up on his arms, shirt, pants, chair cushion, and floor. Sampson has now taken perch beneath his chair during meal or snack times. 
• Along the same lines, give a kid sand and it will end up in his hair. Little dude's foster mom sent over some of his toys (have I mentioned how awesome that woman is?! She could keep these toys for her little one at home, but she wants little man to be comfortable in this transition and have some of his own stuff at our place), one of which is a water and sand table. There's a little compartment for the sand and another section for the water. The two elements remained separate for about two minutes before he decided to combine them. About thirty minutes later I caught him dumping the sandy water on his beautiful, curly locks. And I did not stop him. I just let him rub the sand into his hair (don't judge me). A few minutes after that, he realized he could use that sandy water and some lingering dirt in the yard to make mud. And once a boy has realized he can make mud, there is no stopping him. 
• Boys who say they hate reading simply haven't found the right books yet. Last visit I was thrilled to show the little guy all the picture books I'd been collecting over the years (including a picture book of Bob Dylan's hit song, "Forever Young") when he crushed my spirit by telling me he hated books, turning instead to his more "boy" toys. That night I purchased a kids collection of DC Comics. We read one today before his nap, and he was enthralled.

I feel like I could go on and on about what I learned today during our short time with the little man. I know we have so much more to learn, and I'm looking forward to all he will teach us. If you're the praying type, please pray for this little guy as he transitions. I know this is tough on him (conversations with him and some of his behaviors tell us it's tough on him), and we just want to do what's best for this kid. Pray that we'd find that very delicate balance between attachment and guarding our own hearts. Like I mentioned earlier, nothing is ever absolute with foster care/adoption until certain papers are signed, and we care a lot for this kid already. Pray for patience for us and strength in our faith and marriage as we increase our visits with little guy. And pray for his foster mom; she loves him so much, and I'm sure it's hard to see him transition out of her home. Pray also for his biological family, that they'd have wisdom and would make decisions based on his best interest. 

Many of you have indicated you'd like to help us out by purchasing things we need---here's an update: we will likely be putting together a more specified list/registry in the near future. We are waiting to see what his foster mom sends over, and the more he comes over, the more we realize what else we need. Once we get the list created, I'll post it on the blog. 

We truly appreciate the support so many of you have offered through prayers, kind words of encouragement, kid items, etc. Hopefully we'll be able to introduce him to some of you in the near future! 

The end of a beginning

Well, in less than a week we will be completed with our PS-MAPP foster training coursework. After we're finished, the licensing department of our agency will come out and inspect our home, likely give us a list of things we need to do, and then come back to be sure we're in compliance and to do some interviews with us before sending our paperwork to the state. The state will then decide if they'll issue or deny us licensing. We've waited somewhat patiently for five years to be parents, so the wait for our license to be foster parents could seem like an eternity.

In the meantime, we plugged our outlets with those super swanky plastic outlet plugs and outfitted our dangerous stuff (like my gummy multi-vitamins) with child locks...and we prepped one of our spare rooms because we are currently working on transitioning a little man to our family!

Our new bunk beds courtesy of an incredibly generous colleague of mine from Gretna High...thanks Steph! 

 We've had two visits with him already, and I can tell you that he is a handsome charmer. He's four years old and incredibly intelligent for his age. He is in foster care, so we're not sure how long we'll get to spend with the little guy, but as of now, the plan is to  transition him from his current foster family to us. His current foster family is awesome, but they cannot provide a permanent home for him should he become free and clear for adoption. The agency is trying to be proactive in finding families who could meet his needs now through foster care and perhaps in the future permanently. Because we're open to both fostering and adoption, we're working on the transition to our home. Moving a kid to a new home, even if it is a good home, is a traumatic experience (as you can imagine). So, we're taking the transition slowly. We'll use the time between now and the time we receive our license (assuming we will), to get to know the little man. I have big plans which include trips to a paint your own pottery studio, a bounce house, the zoo, a few museums, lots of trips to the park, etc. After a certain point, he'll be able to spend a night or two with us, hence the bunk beds pictured above! Periodically we'll post updates, but please know that we cannot and will not share specific information in order to maintain confidentiality.

We're not quite sure on the time frame, and we've learned that with foster care and adoption, nothing is ever certain until papers are signed by the appropriate folks. So, there's even a chance that he may not move in with us. All we know is that right now the plan is to transition him to our home. So he will be spending time with us at our home. The dilemma: We don't have a lot of kid stuff. We bought bedding and we've acquired enough furniture for the bedroom, and my folks bought us a carseat (thanks mom and dad!), but otherwise we don't have anything. I'm sure if the placement will go through, we'll need clothes, toys, toiletries, kitchen stuff, and whatever else a four year old needs. Because, like most people who first have children the "normal" way, we cannot afford to go out and just buy all of this stuff on our own, we have created a wish list of items. We didn't complete a typical registry at a store, because we didn't want to limit people by specifying items. We are down to earth folks who are okay with hand-me-downs and gently used items. In a nutshell, if you have some of the following items lying around the house or if you simply want to contribute, check out the list below. If you have questions, please feel free to contact me via cell phone (if you have my number) or email (helzerdm@gmail.com).

Our list of needs for the little man: 

Clothes (size ??? I'll confirm this one later!)

Kids bath towels

Step stool

Books

Games

Toys (he likes Spiderman, trucks, cars, Dora the Explorer, Spongebob, etc)
Toy chest

A bike

Bike helmet 
Kids movies (Dora and Spongebob are his favorite TV shows)
A toy lawn mower (back story: at our last visit, he pointed to our lawn mower and asked if we could teach him how to use it)

And anything else a four year old needs... 

Week 4 of 10

We're approaching the halfway point of our foster training; our first home visit is a week from today. A good chunk of our paperwork is submitted with just a few lingering things to complete and fill out. The most difficult component to complete: the letter to a future foster/adoptive child and one to his/her biological parents. We were assigned to write a short letter introducing ourselves to a potential child who might be placed in our home and then one to his/her parents. I thought writing our profile letter for adoption was difficult, but I struggled to find the words for the letter to a future child. What can I even say that would make a child feel even slightly comfortable with the thought of moving into a stranger's home? Writing to the parents was a killer. How do  I reassure future biological parents who will more than likely resent us for "taking their child" that we will do what we can to be good "in the meantime" parents for their kids?

The deeper we get into our training, the more empathy I gain for biological parents whose kids are placed in foster care and foster kids. We did an "imagine if" exercise last week where we were asked to close our eyes and imagine what it would be like if we were to go through the process of being removed from our home and placed in someone else's home. The thought of hypothetically being placed in someone else's home freaked me out. I can't imagine the emotions foster kids experience as they work to process being removed, adjusting to a new family with new rules, hoping to go home and return to what feels natural, etc.

I am also learning the importance of knowing the strengths and needs of our family so we can be realistic about the situations we open ourselves to. I'm a bleeding-heart, so it's easy for me to bite off more than I can chew in order to help others. A huge part of me wants to adopt or foster a ridiculous amount of children. But the more we learn, the more level-headed I become. While I want so badly to have kids in our home by July or August (which we could probably have if we fostered), I also know that Nate and I have a desire to be forever parents to children. There are several kids who are currently in foster care but are free and clear for adoption, but from what I hear, it might take a bit more time for these kids to be placed into our home. Of course, the agency doesn't want to rush the transition for these kiddos, so it seems like it might be a slower, deliberate process (which is good). I guess I'm learning to slow down a bit and really think this through.

The Helzer home will be in a huge flux of chaos in the coming weeks as we wrap up a school year (13 days left for me!), pack up our apartment, and move into a new home (20 days until we close!), and continue our foster training. Pray that we'd keep our sanity among the crazy!