A Confession

About a year ago, my oldest, Timothy, became 'a difficult child'. He was still doing very good at school and for the most part, church and around others, but at home, he was flat out difficult. If I had to be entirely honest, it got to where I just didn't want to be around him much. He has always been loud, but it was getting unreasonably so; he was aggressive, hurtful to his brothers, defiant, disrespectful....just not a joy to be around at all. So, I tried to fuss it out of him, discipline him, implement one consequence after another, sent him to his room, spanked, took toys away from him.... It was constant from the moment he woke up until I dropped him off at school, and started up again as soon as the van door was shut upon picking him up from school. I was frazzled, angry, hurt and completely over it. And I began taking it out on him, compounding the problem, which was obviously bad parenting on my part, but I felt helpless and incompetent and it showed. At the first sign of misbehavior I began sending him to his room as a means of avoiding it. I would listen to his angry stomping and shouting while my own insides boiled with irritation. Don't misunderstand. I have loved him every minute since I've known him, and I continued to tell him so, I just didn't want to be around him.

I got help from a teacher friend who gave me behavior charts and a few tips, I talked with other moms who gave me encouragement or a different view point, and Scott and I talked it to death every. single. night. It was the first thing I thought about in the morning and the last thing on my mind as I fell asleep at night. I was completely consumed and fatigued by it all, searching for solutions, praying for answers, then repeating, day in and day out, his same behaviors followed by my same anger. 

So, where are we now? Why have I chosen to write about this? Because he is such a joy. Because talking and searching and praying for so long finally uncovered some answers. 

After talking to my teacher friend about a couple of the behaviors in particular, she suggested we have him tested for pica. Basically, if I understand it correctly, it stems from an iron deficiency. So, we did.....he was very anemic. Very. We started him on vitamins with iron and no joke, within a week we saw improvements. The lows had gotten so low that any improvement was welcomed with enthusiasm. From there I tried hard to reset my responses to his behaviors. To realize he was not acting out that way to hurt me or because of me, but because he's five and doesn't know what to do with his emotions, and my sad misdirection had only confused the solution for him. "This is how mom acts when she gets mad, so why not." And, on top of that, he was suffering under the physical symptoms of being so low in iron. 

It's been a year since this all got really bad, so it would be impossible to explain every change we, or more specifically I, made, but along with getting his iron built up and changing our responses to his behavior, I added some bedtime snuggles a couple months ago and if you ask me, I'd say that has been the best change for he and I. He is still a little boy, now six, trying to cope with the world around him, wanting his way and having a fit when it doesn't play out like he wants, but my responses are more consistent and less angry, most of the time. And he has made improvements, matured and seen the benefit of being a helpful big brother, instead of a hurtful one. 

He is smart, loving, kind and he loves to snuggle his momma, something we had almost completely lost. Partly because, in general, he's not as snuggly as the younger ones, he's always on the go, loud and with the compounded irritations of his behavior for so long, snuggling was rarely on my mind. When I implemented this 'nuggle time", as we call it, I said, "I'm going to lay here. Either we cuddle and talk, or we don't, but I'll be here." Like a little inch worm, he found his way up against me from his head to his toes and for the most part, this is how we snuggle almost every night now, for about ten minutes before he goes to sleep. Longer when he says, "Can you stay just a minute longer mommy." I do this with all the boys, but it has made the biggest impact on Timothy and our relationship. I had quit seeing him as my little guy, and only saw him as his behaviors which I didn't like. I had nearly blinded myself to the little boy that I loved up the biggest hippo ever. (How he chose to express his love when he was a toddler. A hippo was one of the biggest things he could think of, so that was a lot of love.)

We made several other changes such as moving him back to his own room, instead of with his brothers. Ironically, we did that for Mason and Elijah, because Timothy had a way of keeping them up and not letting them sleep, but once he was moved he said, "Thank you mom and dad, now my brothers won't wake me up." We had to laugh at that one! Point being, it wasn't one magic change we made and I can't promise any of it had anything to do with any of the changes we made. We have prayed heavily for his heart over the past year, and for our hearts to love him as God does. The God who made him in His image, and in my opinion, to do great things. Either way, it's been an answer to prayer, and while we know it will never be perfect, nor will our journey as parents be without conflict and frustration, but I realize now, when I kiss his sleeping head, not only that I love him, but just how much I like him. That I enjoy his sense of humor, his dancing, his imagination, his love of running, jumping, swinging, climbing. He is a joy. He is not a difficult child, he is my son. My one of a kind Timothy, and I wouldn't change a thing about him. Not a thing. 

A Pink Explosion

That yes came during lunch on Wednesday, July 24th. The current foster mom and I made arrangements for her and her husband to bring the baby girl to our house on Friday after work. While they had decided caring for this baby was too much for them, they did care about seeing where she would be living and sharing her daily schedule with us. I can appreciate this more now, after just having a similar experience, then I could at the time. But we were happy and willing to accommodate. This two days gave us a chance to prepare for her arrival.

Elijah was still sleeping in the crib at almost two years old so we would need to move him out of his nursery and into a bed in his brother's room. Toddler bed? Twin bed with rails? He was just a baby, wasn't he? My mother-in-law had just bought an antique toddler bed from auction so we set him up in that Wednesday night..... nope. Although the mattress size was the same, it was too small and apparently in his mind, just a trampoline. So the next day my Gram (who lives in the basement with us) offered us her twin bed. We had the double wrought iron guest bed that we needed to move out of Mason's room in order to make room for Elijah, so it made sense to give that to her in exchange for her twin size. Add a few rails and it was a great fit. Elijah loved it. I couldn't decide if it made him seem bigger, or smaller to me. Either way, baby #3 was moving out of the crib to make room for baby #4.

Mason and Elijah

Still today, I remember so clearly the days we bought, and set up, that crib (spring break 2009) with not a baby in sight, praying for God to fill it as we passed by the room each day. Indeed, this prayer He has answered as only He can. Since September of 2009, it has never been empty.

So, we readied the nursery, bought a few pink blankets, pulled the infant car seats out of the storage closet, rearranged the van to hold all four, washed bottles, stocked up on tiny diapers and attempted to prepare the boys for a baby girl to join the ranks. On Thursday, after work, Scott sneaked in a stop at Target to buy her first outfit from him. At the register, he felt the eyes of the checkout clerk on him. He admitted later he felt pretty sure she was checking him out, when finally she asked, "Would you like a gift receipt for this, sir?" as she held up the sweet pink outfit. His spirit was crushed.....did she think he was papaw to a baby girl? A friend? Uncle? So, he answered, "No, it's for my daughter" and smiled on his way out the door, excited, and perhaps a little nervous, at what life may be like with a girl in the house.

Meanwhile, I was organizing the pink bomb that had gone off at the house! As our friends have done every time a child has entered our home, we had hand-me-downs galore that gave the appearance she had already been with us for months. What love and support that comes out of a bag of clothes we've seen our friends daughters wear, as they pass them on to a baby they've never met.

It would appear, by Friday afternoon, that we were ready for her. I got the boys down for a nap, excited as they were, and collapsed into a heap of a mess. Tears of excitement and fear. Prayers, that we have always prayed, "Lord, bind our hearts with hers." Realizations that now I'll have hair to fix, periods to teach about, attitude that only a girl can dish out. Concerns that it will be too much, that her needs will be too great, that maybe we should have closed our home when we had the chance. Failure to thrive.....would we be able to help her thrive? More teeth to cut, potty training to get through, formula to mix at 1:00am.....

But then I looked again at the picture the current foster mom had sent me of the largest, bluest eyes I had ever seen on a tiny five month old baby girl and pulled myself together. She needs a home and a family to love her. We can do love. It might not always be perfect, it's often very loud and circus like, but always, we do love.

Our Subway Baby

Well, I can take it no longer! I want to at least start into the next part of our story. The adoption paperwork has made it through the approval process (so I've been told), which means we should just be waiting on a few things to make it to our lawyer so she can schedule a court date for adoption. Of course, this could take weeks, or months.

After the uncertain times, while a foster child is in your home, when you are never guaranteed anything, it's hard to sit patiently after TPR (termination of parental rights), which you may recall, was in December, for others who do not have the same sense of urgency that we do, complete paperwork, schedule dates, or whatever else it is they are doing. I know it's a very lengthy process and it's oh, so important to do it right the first time around, but mercy. While we appreciate those working on our behalf, this little girl has been ours for almost 2 years and we are ready to make it official!!

Quick recap on where were were at the time.... In June of 2013 it had been six months since the adoption of the boys. Elijah was almost 2, Mason 3 and Timothy a few months from turning 4. We had spent the previous six months trying to decide if we were ready to close our home to foster care and call our family complete. Or if we were willing to stay open, knowing what placements we were willing to take were very uncommon and most likely, we'd spend another year saying 'no' to what calls we may receive. We hadn't accepted a placement since I was pregnant two summers before, which was the little girl who stayed only 24 hours. Nothing else seemed like a good fit with our three sons.

If I had to be honest, I was ready to close our home. I liked being a mommy to these guys, and wasn't sure I wanted to risk having a girl come along, or another boy who would 'mess up' the family life we had established. A boy mom....no hair to brush and braid, no pink skirts, no baby dolls, and no having to tell her she would play ball, not be a cheerleader! After almost two years, we had found our groove and for me, adding another would only rock the boat, and I didn't want that.

Scott felt a little different than I did. He had 'a feeling' we should stay open one more year and see what happened. Just be open to the possibility in case God wasn't done with our family. I didn't need much convincing, and knew we would only accept a placement if we both felt it was right. So, that June we submitted our annual paperwork to remain open another year.

On July 24th, 2013, (one month later) Scott met our pastor for lunch, as they occasionally do, at a local Subway restaurant. Half way through their meal, a social worker we know well, approached Scott and said, "We have a situation you and Julia might be able to help us with. It's a five month old baby girl that will most likely will become an adoption. She is 'failure to thrive' and we can't find anyone to take her."

One month. Remember my boat I didn't want rocked? It got rocked that day with just a few words when Scott called to share what she had told him.

Baby girl. Failure to thrive. No one wants her.

So, he relayed a few questions I was asking to the social worker and gave her responses back to me. We learned the baby girl was already in another foster home who did not want to keep her. My final question was simply, why don't they want her? She got permission from the foster parents to share their number and I called the current foster mom. I was wondering if it was something like, "she cries all night long", or "she has some medical challenges", or "she has projectile vomit twice a day". But her response was fairly simple. They had two young kids already and felt it was too much.

But I had three young kids. Would it be too much for us? It was my only sense of trepidation, which was quickly overcome with Scott's boasting on my maternal abilities. Right or wrong, if he thought I could handle it, that was enough for me. My last question to him.... "Are we doing this?" was answered with one of our biggest words, "Yes".

A Short Stay

Well, sweet girl (whom we called M2, for the sake of privacy) was only with us for 10 days. It's been hard for me to find my words about this, or even figure out my emotions, for that matter. I know it's obvious that bringing in a fifth child, a three year old at that, into a home totaling the number at 5 kids between the ages of 2-6, would be hard. I know others understand why this was a very difficult placement and that no one would 'blame' me for it not working out. But for me, in the quiet moments when I only have my opinions and thoughts on the matter swirling around my head, I think, or at least, I wish, I could have done a better job.

She was such a sweet girl who had obviously come from very little, if any, structure or attention. She was starved for it, and in a home already full of littles who need lots, it was a hard mix for us all. I would say it was hardest on each of them for their own reasons. For M2 because she so desperately needed both attention and structure she had so lacked, in amounts I was unable to provide. She was forced to learn her way in a strange family at such a young age. For my daughter because she's just two, cutting molars and she's the baby. For Elijah because he's also three. In and of itself, that makes life tough, let alone dropping another three year old in the middle of your world and being expected to share everything from your toys, your drink cups, your brothers, your couch space, dinner chair AND your Mommy....that's asking a lot of a little man. For Mason and Timothy, simply because it was another little person to take things, throw fits, fill their space, need attention, take attention....    I've come to the realization that having a fifth baby, or if this placement had been an infant, would have been a very, very different dynamic than it was bringing in a three year old. While this may seem obvious, it was a lesson learned for me.

So, something we've never done before, we had to call our social worker and explain that it wasn't working out. In her wonderfully, supportive way, she said every family has to find their limit. For some it's only one child, but when we know we've reached it, it's ok to say so. Our priority has always been what's best for our kids, as it should be, and this was not best for anyone. We found out the hard way that four is our limit.  She went to work finding another home for M2. My heart ached, tears seeped all day from my eyes, my boys showed compassion well beyond their years, even though they had no idea why I was crying. They just knew Mommy was hurting and they did what they could to make the tears stop. I knew this was the right thing for them, but I hoped it was also right for her.

Our worker called back shortly with a family who would take her. They are in the process of adopting twin 9 year old girls, are retired and had just recently had a young foster child be returned to the parents and they were crushed by that loss. They had been praying for another young child to come fill this place in their home and their lives. The new foster mom called me within the hour.

Talking about it and knowing it's the right thing to do is one thing....actually packing her belongings and emptying her from the room we had made for her, is another. I hated that we were now part of her lack of stability, but I hoped with all my heart this would be best for her and that we were making the right decision. I got her things bagged up...not in a garbage bag...and let the new foster mom know we were on our way to meet her. She asked if we would like to bring her to their house so we might see where she'll be living, which we accepted, hoping this would help her feel more comfortable as well as ease our minds. It still seems so strange to say, but after only 10 days, a little girl can become part of your heart.

Within seconds we could see that this would be a fine fit for M2, and for this family. She would have plenty of attention from the older girls and be loved and cared for by her new foster parents. Sometimes it's very clear what God wants from us, sometimes not so much, and occasionally I'm not sure we don't think we know what He has in mind, but are later gifted with hindsight. I wonder now, if we were just meant to give her a safe and loving home for those 10 days while God prepared this new and more permanent place for her to be. Her next few years will be tumultuous at best with court, visits and all things that go along with foster care, but I hope and pray this family will be the solid ground for her during this time.

As for me, I think the realization that I couldn't help her, at least, not in the way we set out to do with every placement, was difficult to admit. I'm realizing now that I have four amazing blessings that were unimaginable to me just 6 years ago. They are my joy, my frustration, my gift, my job, my answered prayer, my refiners fire.... everything I could have ever wanted and more than I ever could have imagined needing. We will close our home after our sweet SoSo is adopted, fully content, eternally thankful, and confident that God called us to this moment so He could knit our family together, and will move forward knowing we answered His call to the very best of our ability. I will try not to mourn the thousands of kids we cannot give a home, but will pray for them, and hope maybe, even if it's a small maybe, our story will encourage someone to say 'yes' to the possibilities of being a foster home.

First Night Realities

A funny thing about being a foster home, is the fact that a simple phone call can literally change everything. There is the next phase of our story...our daughter...that I'm dying to begin writing about but have to wait until she's adopted to use her name and include pictures, which, I think, is worth waiting for. While we wait for that wonderful date, we have again, found ourselves having the "should we stay open, or is it time to close our home" conversation. Some might think that should be an easy choice, given we now have 4 kids between the ages of 2 and 6 but, it's not. We know the need. We've seen the affect a loving home can have on a child. We've been blessed beyond what my simple words can describe, all because we said 'yes'. It's such a small word, but it can move mountains if you find the courage to say it. To end this season of our life, closing the door, literally, to the path God used to bring us our family, is not an easy decision.

And then the phone rang. Just two days ago. It was nap time, the kids had gone to sleep and I had just let the appliance man in to the kitchen to work on the oven, when the phone rang. It was a lady at the cabinet who we have remained in random contact with throughout our training and time as foster parents, and she had a placement. A three year old girl. Were we interested. I got what little information she had to share, told her I'd talk with Scott and call her back with our answer. We've done this so many times, it's pretty clear after the first few words between us if one or both of us is leaning toward saying 'no'. It's equally obvious when we both know that we think we should say 'yes', and that was the case on Wednesday. We had been saying, as we were considering closing, that about the only thing we could possibly take, was one child, about three years old, preferably a girl. Funny, to me, that the call was for a three year old girl. When things happen that way, I can't help but say, out loud sometimes, "Ok God, I hear ya!"

Scott went to the cabinet that evening to pick her up, belongings in a garbage bag, and brought her home. It took about 30 seconds after her feet hit the floor for the boys to yell, "wanna come see our toys?" and off they all went....all five...up the stairs, from room to room they ran, squealing, chasing, playing, wearing a path up and down the stairs and around the house! This went on for about an hour until it was time to eat..... the little things that really don't matter, but you notice.... our kids plates are in groups of  four. I'm just a teency, tiny bit OCD, so mixing up the groupings on our plates makes me a little tense. *Note to self: this actually makes you a little crazy and is probably one of those things you shouldn't mention in a blog on the world wide web. Also, add two plates to the grocery list so we can have groupings of five and avoid these feelings of 'crazy'!*

After dinner, in keeping with routine, we moved to bath, story, then bed time. This is when the rubber hits the road, so to speak. It's not so bad to come to a house that has other kids, lots of toys and chicken nuggets, but to wind down and realize you're not going home....that this big, strange place is going to get dark and you have to go to sleep. Even for a three year old, maybe especially for a three year old....I can only imagine how hard it would be. When I think of my kids being in a strange place, alone, unfamiliar....it almost makes me sick to think how scared they would be.

It was an evening full of big change for everyone and it took a small toll on Elijah, our three year old, who cried, either in sympathy, exhaustion, or both. But all the same, needed a little extra reassurance that night....it just so happened to coincide with (we'll call her M for now) M's incredible bedtime fit/meltdown. Some of you can imagine, or have experienced this, but I was a little surprised....the sound of one three year old losing it at top volume is one thing, but two three year olds losing it....OH MY. And it hit me, what have we done?! Can we handle this? Are we nuts?! Is this going to wreck our children? Is this going to wreck us? My heart was racing, blood pressure through the roof, tears welling in my eyes and a lump in my throat making it hard to breathe. I laid down with Elijah, and Scott with M, and within 20 minutes both were asleep.

When we got to our bedroom, it took just a glance at each other to know that we were both feeling and thinking the same thing. In my husbands wisdom, he said, lets not talk about it now. Let's hope we get some sleep and talk about it tomorrow. Well, folks, God always provides new mercy in the morning....everyone slept through the night! First thing Scott said when he woke me for coffee... "Well, who saw that coming?!" We decided over coffee that, especially since we were snowed in and couldn't do anything different if we wanted to, that we would make the most of our time with her for the next few days, until we knew a little more detail about the case plan and how permanent (or not) this looked to be. Through the course of that first 30 hours with her, our children amazed us. Timothy, our 6 year old, made sure she had everything she needed....her blanket, teddy, socks, extra chips at lunch. Mason, 5 years old, would pat her and tell her things would be ok, then insight a quick "tag, you can't get me", that worked to ease her tension, and Elijah, although angry that she took a toy from him, brought the toy back to her when she began to cry after I made her give it back. They have asked if she can stay, and opened their lives to her. It would seem, if they are able to, then surely we can do the same. We might not handle it perfect at all times and there will be moments we are physically and emotionally wrecked. We will be loud, frazzled, tired and most likely broke, but we will give a little girl a home, brothers, a sister, toys, a safe and warm bed, nutrition, medical care she's badly in need of, church, scads of extended family and friends who are nuts over our kids, and when we are at our end, we'll hold on to one truth, HE always provides new mercy in the morning.