manning the asylum

I sometimes wonder about my capacity for sanity. And staying productive given my work load of four kids, one of them soon be officially adopted from foster care. It's not like my original kids are without special needs.

Mac is my genius 11 year old, in a school for gifted kids. He's not really connected to the earth at this point. My heart breaks for him at times. Other times I just plotz in my thoughts. I think he is most like me. Genius but unable to factor in reality. Because reality is an abstract concept. Even now, for me, with my graduate degree and excellent paying job--- I don't know how to change my windshield wipers.

His struggles are greater because he's smarter than I will ever be. I think it amplifies his emotional and social difficulties. He's kicked off the bus on the reg. We have behavioral sheets to help him regulate during the day. He's on 3 sleeping meds because without it, he won't sleep for days. Underneath he is this amazingly loving and soft bird. He has so much love.

He talked about his doubts with adopting Melody. I welcomed this. He doesn't know how to be her brother yet. We don't know how to be a family yet. It's all confusing and very hard. But we talked and we'll get through this together. He wants to step up, Melody is kid no one is stepping up for. Except us.

Then there is Melody. Each kid I've had, I've been able to tell a pregnancy story, a birth story and a life story. For her,  there are years missing from what I know of her life. I have crappy baby pictures from her mom's old myspace page. Her family gives us nothing else. It makes me mad. But what should I expect from folks that can't a keep consistent cell phone number? Or have an apartment for more than six months. Or repeated jail stays. These are not stable scrapbooking folks.

AND THAT'S WHY SHE'S WITH US.

As we get closer to the adoption, the harder it all gets. Her behaviors and manipulations are in high gear. I can't imagine what that's like for her. How automatic it all is to be in survival mode at all times. It's taking a toll.

So we slow down. I slow down.  And onward we go.  

Removing all doubt

I turned in the last bit of paperwork for our adoption application. I think when we started fostering this was easier. The 75 pages of paperwork, the four home study interviews, producing out taxes, house insurance papers... pet vaccinations. It's a big pile of hey, we are really good parents and are welcoming more kids. Much like spare change, I am spent.

Last weekend our foster daughter, Melody, decided to comb out her dreadlocks. I literally didn't know what to do. So we headed over to her friends' mom and well, they took me in a bit. We sat on uncomfortable chairs while we gently picked out the lint and tangles in her gnarled up dreads. After seven hours and little progress- I was done. I literally couldn't see straight and my back was aching.

I think I had the vision of finally being proficient with her African American hair. It was a way for me to start to claim some power in all of this. Power that reflects my value as a mom to Melody. If there is doubt, I want to remove it. Beyond the hours of mind numbing paperwork, those 7 hours was pure love.

Her real mom doesn't care. She doesn't live on the same planet as us and or our pile of proven goodness. She thinks showing up 3 days a week, taking Melody shopping and out to Panda express proves she's ready to be a full time mom again. She wonders when Melody will come home. Meanwhile, she has yet to find a job or pass regular drug tests. She does not live in reality.

They'll be filing termination of parental rights. I'm not sure it'll go forward though. Being an idiot doesn't mean you're a bad mom. She's just selfish and why should she get a job and pass drug tests? She has us taking care of her kid full time and gets to spoil her 3 days a week. She has a sugar daddy paying all her bills including the state. Meanwhile, I don't register for her. When I see her she looks right through me. I try not to dig too deep into the crazy of it all. If I do, I'll never get out.

This woman. When she drops off Melody, she'll stare at her mom's car as she drives away. Blowing kisses and leaning against the window.



bonus kid kung fu fighting

I think we are on month two of welcoming back Melody. With all bonus kids (aka foster kids) there is a honey moon period where love is everything.  Then the trauma based behavior rear up. Stuff like holes in walls, screaming, breaking remotes and arguing. We skipped the honeymoon I think.  She was with us from age 4-7. Now she's 9.

Tonight was rough but better. The screaming and fighting was minimal and defused. I worked really hard on holding my upset. Not taking the bait to argue and give more rules. I am not perfect. It started with me taking the remote because it's bed time. Her shrieking and crying began. Howls of it's not fair and you give me nothing.

I made warmed up oatmeal for Max and tried my hardest to ignore. To calmly repeat, I feel bad for you. I love you too much to argue with you. I know you hate me but I love you no mater what. Over and over. AND OVER AND OVER. Like the love and logic folks say.

But it's not fair. It's not fair Melody is here when she wants to be with mom. It's not fair that I need to help clean up and calm a mess her mama made.

It's not fair I am working up the nerve to make small talk with a  woman that scares the hell out of me. AKA Melody's mom. It's not fair that her daughter is becoming my daughter AGAIN.  I am becoming friendly with a woman I have ten thousand emotions about. But I want to create something between her and me. A bond.  Is there such a thing as sister moms?

I want to just scream at the mom. I want to say look, this isn't going end anytime soon. Melody has been in foster care since age 4. There are things that are going to make this better and things that make things worse. Help us.

Help us by not going on spending sprees and buying air Jordan's. Help us by not putting make up on your nine year old. Help us by getting a job that doesn't involve shaking your money maker because you are older now and dollar dollar bill ya'll ain't a life plan. Help us by not going to jail on probation holds, because you won't provide a urine drug screen.

But I can't scream because she's kind of deaf. Deaf to planning. Deaf to reality. Deaf to all of it because all of it is going her way. The county pays her rent and she has a benefactor that pays for the rest of it. And we are providing 24/7 child care and doing the hard work of being her baby's parents.

She did have a job interview and I guess it well.

Maybe she'll rise up. Work hard. Get the stuff she needs to be a mom that Melody can come back to.

If not. I'll ask she help us by stopping with this wild fantasy that eventually, she'll live with her mom.

Air Jordans

Melody is settling in, our boomerang bonus kid. She is a lot easier in some ways. Last go round she didn't have a lot of words to express her upsetness. So our drywall and car doors got carved into. She's a lot more aware now. She understands she's in foster care and says no thank you.

I work on my reactivity to her. Like her momma, getting everyone riled up is a skill she's mastering. My theory is that this allows her control in a world where she has very little. But she can't be in control, she's a kid. So we allow choices whenever we can and hug her as we say no.

Her mom is baseline from what I can tell. Working as an pole technician and buying her air jordans. WHAT is with the air jordans? Why must every foster kid have these expensive shoes? Honestly, I didn't know they existed before I was a foster mom.

We are in a pattern much like 2 years ago. Her mom doing 35% of what is needed to reunite. I am doing better with her mom. I'm not afraid or reactive to her like I use to be. She's not aggressive with us about doing her baby's hair right. Which is actually kind of sad. I hope this means she is not letting go.

So folks ask if we will adopt her and we have the same answer. Which is not at this point. In fact, I'm still hoping mom will pull it together and be able to take Melody back full time like for realsies. Mr. Hall believes she will continue to get better then crash.

Really, in reality, it doesn't change anything. Even if we do end up adopting her this will be the life. Having this relationship with her mom. Visits and whatnot.

Onward. 

same old, same new

3 big happenings before the Christmas holiday.


1. I'm leaving my job.

I've worked long and hard to get where I am. And now I've been poached because of my skills. People keep stopping by and saying they'll miss me. I feel the same. When you spend 40 hours a week with folks for eight years you tend to get attached. I love this place to a large degree. But I need more growth in my professional skills and bank account. This was my first real job as a psychiatric mental health nurse practitioner. I was just a wee bebe when I came here. It's the house where I grew up in. And even more so, that makes it time to leave...

2. We've a new foster daughter that came 2 weeks ago and she's leaving tomorrow. She was our 10th bonus kid. That's a lot of kids floating away when I think about it.

She  is our 10th bonus kid. I fell in love with her immediately because she is exactly the kind of kid we want to adopt. 10 years old, full of life, ready to bond and she folded right in. If you could see my heart it would look like this right now.

Geez, what a mess. I know this will be super duper hard but I'll survive. I'll heal up but right now, so much sad. I know this  isn't about me. I know she has family that'll be welcoming and safe. But wow, what a mess!


3. MY GYM. I'm breaking up with crossfit.

I got a personal trainer. Breaking up with a gym and it's people that you've been with for four years is tough. But for this, I know I need to move on.


And so no I press onward.


Merry Christmas Y'all!!



What if all is not lost?

Got my hair did at the walmart salon last week. As I was checking in, I noticed the little boy's grandma pushing a stroller. The kind where the car seat snaps into the stroller frame. She didn't see me but I approached her.

The little boy was with us for 3 years for some foster parent love. More respite care because his grandma had custody of him and she is older and well, he was a 4 year old boy. She needed help. And M's mom was in/out of jail for stupid drug stuff.

The little boy is here somewhere, on this blog. I think I called him M. Let me go look.

Ok, found him! He's the fuzzy one below.

L-R (M, Mac, River, Pancake) 

Monday, January 14, 2013:

M's Sunday school teacher sent us the following:

"We were talking about family and how we are all different but all
part of GOD's family. That with GOD we can always talk to him even if
we don't see him. It's not like you have use the telephone.

M went on to say this-- 

'My big family that's all together love me all the
time even when I'm not there. Pancake (my other sister) reads to me,
Mac shares his toys, my other baby River smiles at me. My other dad, Pancake's dad,
plays cars with me, gives me snacks, hugs me and tells me he
misses me. Pancake's mom let's me hug the baby and calls me honey.
My other daddy hugs me when I go to bed and never yells at me....he
hold's my hand too and not too hard.'"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been a year since M left to live with this dad in another state. Even though we had him for 3 years, I never really met his mom. So when I approached M's grandma, I was surprised to see her, M's mom. The baby in the stroller was hers. It was like a very bitter sweet, but super chill pseudo family reunion steeped in the weirdest of sadness.

I just needed to get my roots done people. Frick if I'm not 40 years old with almost all gray hair. 2 inches of outgrowth is too much. I can't own the gray yet. Plus, I need highlights so only professionals will do when getting my hair did. And I'm cheap so that is what brought me to the walmart salon on that very day.

They, the mom and grandma, say M is still out of state with his dad. They showed me an updated school photo and he looks great. I wanted to hug M's mom and grandma. It's super hard because they are nice and still in pain like me with this kid being gone. He's with this dad but gone all the same. They say M still asks about all of us. I say we miss him. I say we're still at the same address and the same number. If he comes up this way,  then we can see him at any time. All of this was said. We said our goodbyes. Then they went about their Wal-Mart shopping.  

So there I was, getting prepped for highlights on a random Thursday morning, trying not to cry. Sighing super heavy and trying to be all casual because the hairstylist doesn't need a client having a meltdown in the stupid chair. Girlfriend had three other clients after me.


Sperm donors, foster to adopt and the spaces in between

So here we are, in the spaces in between. No bonus kids at this point. Just me, Mr. Hall and our bio three. We are ready for more and waiting.

It's a weird space.

My friend is getting sperm injections. She's single, over 35 and done with waiting for a dude. By all accounts, this method of growing one's family involves a lot of doctor visits and people touching your hoo-ha. It also seems super expensive.  She has enough capital to cover three tries. The first one didn't work.

I didn't think it was going to work. It's almost like forcing a pregnancy with these injections. The magic is sucked right out of it, it seems. I have very fond memories of regular sperm injections from a loving husband and even then it took forever.

Now she waits to start another cycle and more injections are involved. Hormone injections. She had asked if I would help her and I said no. It was hard saying no. Super dupa hard.  But for so many reasons I said no.

Reasons-

I'm not skilled with injections--I haven't been a real nurse like that in over 10 years.

I don't want to screw it up.

If things go wrong, I don't want her blaming me.

She's sensitive to needles and has had reactions (nausea, passing out) before and I don't want to be there if that happens

Hormones make women crazy, these hormones anyway. I don't want to be part of that crazy.

The rest of the crazy I'm ok with.

But maybe I'm not. I harbor judgment. It's ugly and I have no right. But I like to hear kids having two parents. She is purposefully creating a life without a Dad there. And it's ugly how I feel because I know what it is to long to be a mom. The crazy of wanting more kids is strong in me. 

I know..I know.. go ahead and judge me. I'm not that good of friend for her right now.  

I've made my peace with her leaning on me. My heart will break for her if it doesn't go as planned.  I'm here for her in many different ways. Others are all gaga over her process. I'll let them do the injections.

but.. yes.. this is  ugly...

I think it triggers my own pain. Long time readers know the miscarriages I've been through. Getting pregnant with my third child was an ordeal. I've healed quite a bit but it'll always be there, the pain. Like a river that ebbs and flows. Just like all the women that have miscarried.

My friend does have a plan b.. if the sperm injections don't work... its to foster to adopt.

Which is where we are now. Starting our journey anew as they say. We are sufficiently recovered from our past foster hood excursions. Mr. Hall wrote the social worker and gave conditions on what we would like to do next. On what we are looking for. Conditions on age and such. Conditions! So up front that man. But, you get what you ask for I guess. NO need to beat around the bush. We don't want to be baby sitters and don't want to travel super long distances. We have space for one more at this point.

So here we are, the spaces in between... 

It starts with an idea

What is there to say that soon Mr. Hall will make contact with the social worker to express our interested of adopting from foster care. He's already said it to another social worker.

There is sort of a predictable process to getting pregnant. You stop birth control, start tracking ovulation and Mr. Hall becomes quite happy with the increase love. Adopting for the foster care is completely unknown.

But Mr. Hall is regimented. Step by step for him. We first met with an adoption foster care social worker back in 2011 and decided to just do respite and/or foster. Five years later he's closer to adoption. It's tough because I want to adopt and always have. He does too but timing and consideration of so many other factors go into this.

We needed our genius son better. Which he is. We need our daughter better. Which she is. We needed to heal from the almost 3 years of our bonus kids. Which we have. We needed a vacation. Which we took.

We need me better. My workload capacity and ability to calm needed to be increased. Which they are. Mr. Hall just needs more massages and that's getting better too.

So, are we ready yet?

I don't know. It's scary and crazy and wonderful.

When we got pregnant the first go round it was magical. It all started with an idea. We wanted to have a baby. And now, thank the LORD, we have three!

And now we have this idea. It's always been there but now it's being said out loud. To social workers. To family. To friends.

We want to adopt from foster care.

It's almost too much for the human spirit to bear doing this.

What did you do?

Bonus kid(s) is my code work for foster kids.


We had a critical mass of bonus kids the other night. Three of which were there for a second time. They were just gems last go round. This time...not so much.


When bonus kids come there is something called a honeymoon phase. Everyone is pleased and happy. Then the upsettness breaks loose because dude, would you want to be taken away from your mom as a kid? ...No.... So the acting out begins.


I was telling my coworker that the middle bonus kid (9 years old) --was having NONE of the Hall's hospitality this go round. Didn't want to eat, kept sneaking out to the backyard and so on. Then, in the am, he wouldn't get in the car to get to school.  It went like this.


(in the driveway)


Me: "Hey dude--time for school, let's get in the car so I can drop you off."


Bonus kid: (literally turning his back on me--crosses his arms and hunches his shoulders--then giving me a backwards, stink eye glance)---



"No."


YA KNOW. I totally think that's something adults should be able to do. Like if my boss wants me to do something I can just turn my back and say no. All plain and obstinate like. Seems perfectly acceptable!!!


So I'm telling this to a coworker who is middle age and now suddenly a step mom to a 9 year old and therefore totally overwhelmed at this new mom stuff. She leans in with rapt attention and says, "What did you do?"


I really thought about it. I mean, at this point, I'm totally over being on time for stuff. Church, school, work... I have too many kids. Mine and bonus. Each kid can explode with behaviors at any time. Or have a potty accident. Or both. I don't care about being late. I don't care if this kid spends six hours not getting in the car.


So starting with that attitude, I told her I didn't fight it. There is no point in engaging with his power struggle. It's as if  there was a  gigantic moose in front of my car. I can't move the moose. 


So I gave him options. I said,


"I can tell your mom one of two things. I can say wow! He did such a good job getting in the car this morning. Or, I can tell her that you gave me attitude."


He got in the car after that.


I talked with Mr. Hall. We are focusing our life on creating carrots for good behaviors. We are finding none of our kids, our or bonus, acts nicely for nicely. Well, sometimes but mostly they need a reason.


So that's what I did. Created a carrot. And if that didn't work I probably would have just sat in the car, surfing my phone while he stood in the driveway. All moose like.

Making the call

That is a snatch lift. I do that often. That's not me. But I did do that cross fit competition. So, close enough.

SO.

This is what I said when I called the social worker.

Me: "Hi, this is Mrs. Hall and I wanted to let xxxx social worker know we are ready to take on more foster kids but it seems xxxx social worker is not in."

A Social worker but not xxxx social worker: "OH YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST. WILL CALL YOU WHEN WE HAVE A RIGHT MATCH."

Then 10 more min of sort of weird, awkward small talk and her being super friendly and complements and support.  It went well.

I was going to send an email. I even had it written up.  

Hi xxxx social worker:

Thanks for meeting up with me yesterday.* I did want to update you on our discussions about helping more kids. Right now, Michael and I are discussing what we want to do. As I said yesterday, my heart is for adoption from the foster care system. Michael has been open to this idea but with the caveat of wanting not to 'just adopt' but adopting the right child for our family. And be the right family for that child!  

We've been processing a lot of things that have happened in the last two years, especially with H.

We loved H, however, as we think about things we are pretty sure she had Reactive Attachment Disorder. She was never formally evaluated or diagnosed, but she had a lot of the classic symptoms of not being able to attach. She had a lot of behaviors that were high maintenance. I don't want to seem like we are complaining at all, but it really took a lot out of us and we are trying to heal/process  and be mindful of this as we go forward.

Even though I wanted to adopt her, Michael was right that she wasn't the right child for our family. It wasn't up to us anyway though. I'm very sure she was placed in the right place, with family that loved her. I think I just want to adopt so bad I was sort of blinded to the truth. Luckily, I have a stabilizing husband who can help see all the sides and I trust him when he tells me to simmer down!

We also think about J and our experience with him. He was very challenging at first. His behaviors were also hard but he did attach to us and in about a year he melted right in. In fact, he was our least labor intensive child! J has family but he is a kid that would be a right fit for us and us for him!

So I'm not sure where that leaves us. We still want to be a foster family. Our kids are on board again. I asked my daughter how she felt about having another foster kid again and in typical teen fashion she said, "It'd be cool."

But like I said. I called instead.

:)

*I met with her to drop off over 100 sz six diapers because our toddler son potty trained in 2 weeks flat. PRAISE JESUS!! but, we order diapers in bulk so we had a bunch of sz 6 diapers. Most toddlers run about size 4. You can't donate sz 6 diapers to goodwill. So, off to the county they went.


*now watch us get a size 6 diapered toddler and I retrieve those 100 sz 6 diapers.


yep. mmhhhmmm



Plan for the upcoming year... my 40th





Right now, on Netflix, there is a wonderful documentary on Iris Apfel. She is phenomenal. Wholly dedicated to the aesthetics of life. She also has a good handle on what makes a woman worth the time as beauty fades because she never had physical beauty in the first place. She's 90 and becoming quite the inspiration for me.


Having lost 60 lbs and developed a keen sense of my own strength, I am becoming quite beautiful on the outside. However, I am to be forty in less than a month. What I have will not last and requires a buttress. I get my roots done on the reg and will until I haven't any hair left. After that, I'll just buy a wig.

My life, so far, has been devoted to the service of others. I'm very fortunate to be a wife, mom, foster mom and nurse. It's a good use of my energies. I've also become kindly and less temperamental as of late. I'm becoming a better wife and mom every day. I've ask God to search my heart and He's done quite a lot of healing. Having a dog helps crazy amounts too.

So here's the plan.




I'm handing this year over to GOD. He has great plans for me and our Tribe Called Hall. I'm very sure it'll be tough and super crazy. But I trust Him above all things.


OK 40.


BRING IT!!

Goruck light and other things I did done

Things I planned to do once the foster kids transitioned back to family and was down to just 3 bio kids and weren't ready for more foster kids: 

1. http://www.goruck.com/

Go Ruck light actually 

2. Crossfit

2. big back tattoo

3. crossfit competition

4. cleaning out and organizing main rooms

5. Potty train my 3 year old

6. create a habit of massaging my husband

7. do the 'cook once a week and eat for a month' type meal plan

Done. And done. 

NOW WHAT? 

900 push ups and other Bro moments

Ya'll have no idea how awesome these moments were.


AT MY CROSSFIT GYM


in the last 6 months


THESE MOMENTS HAVE HAPPENED


ALL DIFFERENT BROS. ALL TOUGH AS F*CK.


1. At my gym, the monthly challenge was 30 push ups a day x 30 days. When I started crossfit two years ago, I could barely do push ups against a wall. I did all 900 chest to floor. No knees. Bro was all like, "GREAT WORK STEPH".


BOOM SHAKA LAKA!


2. Saturday classes are divided into two hours. First hour is open gym, meaning you can show up and work on what ever is needed. Then, the second hour is a team work out.  Meaning we form teams to tackle a HUGE work out. Something like:


row 1000 meters
100 push ups
100 sit ups
100 box jumps
100 kettle bell swings
row 1000 meters


It takes a team as these work outs cannot be done alone, nor should they be. One Sat I was doing open gym before I had to leave for work. The bros were talking smack about what team was going to dominate that day. They started to pick team members. Someone said "WE GET STEPH"  and I blushed and said, "I have to go to work." And a PARTICULARLY YOUNG AND TOUGH bro was all "COME ON!  YOU WERE GONNA BE ON OUR TEAM!" He was all disappointed and sad.


dang right he was!


BECAUSE BOOM SHAKA LAKA!


2. I was deadlifting something like 225 and being used as the demonstrator for the class on how to properly deadlift. A BRO standing next to me said, "Respect" and did that guy nod thing, the slight upward tilt of the chin in a quick reverse nod moment.


BOOM SHAKA LAKA!


3. We have outside adventures, my gymmates and I. One is a hike that will last 6 hours with weighted backpacks while performing other assorted push ups and jumping jacks. Not everyone is doing it. I am though. And the coach was trying to recruit people. Saying, "Steph is signed up". And Bro is all like, "Yeah, but Steph's a badass."


BOOM ASHAKA SHAKA LAKA!!


I don't respond to these bro moments but to smile and quickly look down. They don't need to know how so very awesome it is to be a bro!


BOOM!!