Showing posts with label foster baby mama drama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label foster baby mama drama. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

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.




Tuesday, September 19, 2017

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.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

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.

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