foster baby mama drama

So, Melody is coming back. She was a little girl that lived with us for 3 years, then went to live with auntie. Two years later she is coming back to us. I am feeling all the emotions.

The emotions I'm struggling with are not for her,  but for her mama. Foster baby mama drama.

I can only speak to my interactions with her and from my side. The first phone call was good. Melody was our first foster daughter. First foster kid. I was at Zumba and came home and there she was. I spoke with her mom a few days later, explaining we had a minivan and we were glad to help her out during that time. It went well, she was all, thank you thank you. That was the last time it went well.

Mostly, during the three years, she spoke through the social worker to complain about Melody's hair not being done right, her clothes being unkempt and us not lotioning her enough. This was the alpha omega for Melody's mom--her daughter's appearance.

Traditionally, the Tribe Called Hall is a motley one. She had a point. I grew angry and bitter. I would get up with her child in the middle of the night when she had nightmares. When she'd talk to her mom on the phone,  Melody begged her mom to come get her and be done with this. And her mom would say, just a little while longer. And I rocked and held Melody after those phone calls, while she wailed and sobbed. But yes, Melody was not gap model level prepared for visits, so she had a point.

Then there were phone calls of vitriol and the time she called the cops on us. Which is typical and common for foster parents to experience. I cried and shook as she ripped me a new one once. It was totally unexpected and like a hurricane full of pissed off bees. Part of this was my fault I think. I was so angry at her for hurting this girl. While Melody was never abused, her mom was hurting her by not doing what she had to do to get her back. Basically stuff, like sobriety, she wasn't even trying to do. At that point, Melody had started calling me mom too. I'm sure my anger triggered the mom's and she's better at controlling people with anger and fear. After the cops were called on us, Mr. Hall took over the communication.

For him, it went well. He could talk to her. She talked to him. It was soothing to listen too. She would be logical and approachable. Deal with able. Mr. Hall has the magic of dealing with the most difficult of women and making it ok.

Then Melody went down to an auntie. She was gone, I was spent. We spent almost a year recovering. We got a dog, that helped. I was happy never to deal with her mom again. I was done. I never expected Melody to come back. I thought her family would absorb her because we are the white village, dismissed and shameful. Sending her back to the foster care system means sending her here. But Melody is one of many and family didn't get in this business like we did. They are trying to help out family, we are growing one and inviting others as we go.

So now the mama is going to be back in my life and I am struggling. Fundamentally struggling. I say to Mr. Hall, 'how do you deal with it, the mom?' He says, "I don't focus my energy on that, we are here to support Melody. I pick my fights." Which means he has control over his emotions and can use a system of dams and bridges to direct the water accordingly.

I envy him.

I'll need to try, my hardest, to feel these things and deal with reality.

Reality number one, in order to adopt Melody, the state needs to do what's called TPR, or termination of parental rights on mom. This is very hard. Judges don't like doing it for a lot of reasons. The state has a current TPR filed and they'll try again. For this, I will go to the hearings. For now, she is our foster daughter. We'll treat her as our own and love her all the same.

Reality number two, mom isn't doing well. Visits with Melody are canceled as a result. The aftermath of visits or missed visits are hard on Melody. This is when she cries and sobs. This is when she carves holes in our drywall. This is when I need to stop the anger and bitterness from growing and soaking in.  Because I can't. It will kill part of me. The very part I use to help. I will be sad with Melody. I will love on her and seek out love too. Mr. Hall and the rest of the tribe are great at being her for each other. This is what we do.

Reality number three. When Melody comes we will have a party. To celebrate her and to let her know she is cherished and super loved. She is a child of God. For this. I have to start thinking of her mom in the same way. She is also a child of God. I need to practice forgiveness, mercy, love. Mr. Hall says she doesn't know any better and that is why she can't be the mom Melody needs. And he's right. So I will consciously pray and practice what I've been given.

Reality number four. No matter what, Melody comes with her mama. Even if she stays with us forever, the mom will be part of this. God gave me all sorts of love to give. This is why I'm in the foster parent business. I'll leave the practicalities of communication, visit arrangement and phone calls to Mr. Hall but for me, I need to start with love, mercy and forgiveness.

And in this way, I can feel much better. I can start to grow love for the foster baby mama drama too.

I asked Pancake to pray

My daughter, the 8 year old Pancake, has been affected lately. The emotional impact of church is affecting her. She feels the spirit when she sings. One day she says, "I feel God in my heart when I sing.", she says. That was an awesome day.

When we drive home from church, when she is all fresh and a bit tender, I ask her about it. During those drives she is a ball of emotion. She'll cry easily, be joyful or befuddled. Sometimes she just get real quiet.

Such was the case last Sunday. I could sense something was wrong. Come to find out, it's something that's been wrong for a while. Pancake has a fear of the boogie man. "When I lay down I hear breathing and it's not me but you and Daddie don't believe me. Then I hear him talking and I think he's going to get me."

And it's true, she has this fear of the boogie man. We've tried comforting her in several different ways. We look under her bed, open her closet, pull back her curtains and show her nothing is there. We point out that we are literally 20 feet away in the next room. We put a sound machine in her room. Eventually, we just told her to suck it up. That was about 3 months ago. Apparently she just stopped telling us about her fears.

After her breakdown in the car, she bucked up a little. Later that night, I went to her room to prep her for bed. She told me she was scared and we ran through the routine of opening closets again. She was still scared. And crying. And afraid.

So I told her what I do when I'm really scared. "Sweetcheeks, I pray to help me not be scared." And I asked if I could pray for her and she said yes. So I prayed. It didn't help though, tears were still wet on her little cheeks.

I was exasperated. I looked her right in the eye and said, "Well, you pray then. You pray for God to help you and he will." She blinked a few times, nodded and snuggled with her blanket. "I'll try", she said.

With that I gave her a hug and flipped off the light.

And the next morning, while eating her oatmeal she said, "Mommy, it helped praying to Jesus. I wasn't so scared anymore." Then we high fived. That's right, high fived at the awesomeness of it all!!

And THAT'S all I got to say about that!

First, I raised my hand

Raising your hands is funny concept. I mean, we are taught as little kids to raise our hands to be called on versus blurting out an answer. We raise our hands when the magician asks for a volunteer. We raise our hands to hail cabs or to flag down a friend while we wait for him in a crowd. All kids raise their hands to be picked up by their Mommies and Daddies. It's pretty cool signal.

It's a way to reach out, to get attention and be singled out.

I was thinking about this as I was singing in church. When we sing, some people raise their hands high. I never knew why until I asked somebody. Little did I know-raising of the hands is all over the bible. It's a sign of worship.

This church I go to, it's different than any church I've ever been to. They have a band, complete with guitars, drums and singers that blow me away. When I sing I get all choked up, moved by the spirit. Mr. Hall and I have started to really let loose and sing louder. It's hard not to feel self conscious at first, with all this singing. But the spirit takes over. After a while I find myself forgetting to feel like people are watching me. Then I reach for Mr. Hall and we hold hands.

It's a pretty incredible sight though, watching people throw their hands up. Singing all joyous with their eyes closed. I feel Mr. Hall and I will get there. Holding our hands high in church.

I've already started practicing. But for completely unexpected reasons. I throw my hands up in elevators, in the living room of our home, at work, in the bathroom, even in the car. I am praying and praising pretty much constantly these days. This is the first step.

The next is settling down and feeling God's love. Letting my prayers be answered. So that's my next step. Slowing down after the prayers. Being still and knowing.

And so it shall be :)