Doing it Alone

I have been thinking a lot about what a fellow blogger commented in regards to my last post. She wondered if I considered parenting on my own, as a single mother. I was very willing to do that when I had the baby and Flaco left. In fact, I was doing that for the majority of the time I had the precious little one with me. When I decided I wanted to continue with CHOR I explained it to my case worker like this: "I want to do foster care and open my home to a child in need. I am not opposed to adoption and I am not closing the door on adoption, if the right circumstances become available I would be willing to explore that option."  I wanted it to be known that I was not seeking adoption at this point, per se, but I would also not object if such a situation presented itself. I would leave all that timing and whatnot up to The Big Guy Upstairs. It’s not any easy thing to do, to let go of the control. After the therapist finally wrote the letter stating I was not crazy and would be a good foster mom, it was a mere 10 days before CHOR called me with a referral resulting in the child living with me now. I had already decided, baring any major health or behavioral issues, I would be willing to take nearly any child. I had told them I would be willing to take a child as old as 6 or 7 but ended up with  a ‘tween which is fine with me as well.

This week I was talking with my friend who recently adopted a child through CHOR and she asked if I was concerned that by having this child with me I would miss out on the opportunity to adopt a toddler or a baby. She believed this was still my intent in the foster care process. I told her that I was content being a foster mother because I needed to see if I could “do this;” be a single mother. Am I worried about losing a placement for a younger child? No. The child I have now needs a place to stay. She is supposed to be with me, for some reason. She has things to teach me about being a mom. At least this is what I choose to believe. I don’t know how long I will have her with me, it has been mentioned a few times that she would be with me for some time. And that is ok. If there is a child meant to be mine, he/she will find his/her way to me.

So, the question of me forging ahead into single motherhood is something up in the air at the moment. I don’t have the financial means to pursue impregnation via IVF and I don’t know that I would want to do that all by myself. I don’t know, I might re-consider this in a few more years when the ticking clock becomes unbearable. At this point, I think I would be much more likely to adopt a child in foster care. But, I do have some qualms about that as well. Mostly, I wonder if this is just pure selfishness on my part. Being a single mother is not easy, not for the mother and not for the child. When all the work falls upon one parent, it makes it much harder to enjoy other things. Right now, I feel like after we get home around 5 pm, have dinner and I try to get one or two tasks done around the house, there is simply not enough time for just hanging out or doing something special. Generally, I try to make up for it during the weekends, but some activities (like power washing and re-painting my back porch) cannot be completed during the week and must get done on the weekends. Wouldn’t it be better for a child to be in a two parent household, where the workload can be shared and the child can get more one-on-one attention? And I don’t say this to judge the many wonderful single mothers. I have some friends who are single mothers and their children are beautiful, well-adjusted, well-behaved, and doing just great. I am judging myself. And, really, my idea was never to be a single mother. I wanted the whole package; the husband, the house, the kids, the dog, mini van, pony, white picket fence – the whole enchilada! So, I just don’t know.

My therapist asked me yesterday if I am actively trying to date. I told him I was and now I am not. Maybe I was simply trying to fill in the hole that Flaco left in my heart and in my life, I don’t know. I jumped on the on-line dating bandwagon and allowed myself to get set up or meet other guys. All for naught. In my mind it felt like a bizarre game show.  A guy would show up one way or another and very quickly I would find some unbearable flaw and hit the buzzer, dropping him through the trap door. Next! Some would stick around for awhile and I would try, but none of it felt right. I had someone offer to set me up with a guy she works with and she says he is “so nice.” I declined at the moment, citing the foster child in my care as a reason. I discovered that I am actually grateful to have a valid reason to not be out there dating. I don’t think I have the stomach to wade through all the crazies and not-for-me kinda guys. Maybe this too is me finally letting God take over – Jesus take the wheel! I suppose, if I am meant to be with someone, God will put us in each other’s way and it will be a positive interaction, balanced and simple. If there is a guy out there who wants to stick around and get to know the fabulous person I am, then I guess it will be meant to be. At the moment, I have finally erected some walls and hurdles for anyone wishing to date me to surmount. I have had several offers for friends with benefits arrangments, which makes my stomach churn worse than the Metformin..... I know I might not have the highest self-esteem some times, but I truly think I am worth a whole lot more than that! And I deserve more than that! Friends with benefits - who benefits? Certainly not me...... So, no boys for me. Right now, they all have cooties.....

Why am I doing this?

Why am I doing this? A question I have asked myself quite a lot lately. Dealing with behavioral issues as a single foster parent has proven exhausting; especially when simultaneously dealing with a nasty sinus infection. Rubbing elbows with other foster families has been good, but a mixed bag in terms of encouragement. One previous baby-sitter, whom I considered a friend, turned out to be a back-stabber; another current baby-sitter thinks a working foster mom is an oxymoron. She thinks working defeats the purpose, since the money I get as a stipend for having a child in my house, gets eaten up by childcare costs (chunks of my money go to the foster parent who baby-sits while I work). I’m not in it for the money. But, to be fair, I can understand someone being perplexed by a single, 30 year old woman deciding to take on an unruly ‘tween who is not her own. I struggle to answer this question when posed because I realize it only makes sense if you understand the heart-wrenching story of the previous foster child and destruction of my marriage. I choose not to tell this story. I offer up some hippy, over-saccharine reason like giving a hurting kid a safe and loving home. But, this is also the truth. I mean, other than the fact that it satisfies my need to mother someone, being a foster mom is about doing something –even if it’s for one kid – to help a child in a nasty situation. I adamantly believe every childhood should be happy. And I only realize as an adult just how dam lucky I am. My childhood seems like a fable compared to the things I hear happening to other innocent little lives out in the big nasty world. My parents loved me and my siblings and they were as fair as they could be in our up-bringing. I had loving grandparents who spoiled us just enough, but also taught us to have a strong work ethic, be honest, and kind to others. Summers were full of berry picking, slogging through the crick in search of tadpoles, traipsing through the woods building forts and swinging from vines, and eating ice cream sandwiches on Nana’s front porch after racing our bikes up and down the dirt lane. Idyllic really. And, as a child should, I took it all for granted. Now, I see the heartache and heart break of children who have never experienced lazy summer days at the local pool, sipping on the juice boxes Mom packed and learning to jump off the high-dive; children who didn’t look forward to a family vacation to Lewis Beach, Delaware, or going fishing with cheese stuck on safety pins, or shucking fresh picked sweet corn for dinner. I may not have a lot to offer a child. By no means am I wealthy financially. But, I have a lot of love to give a hurting child. And, in small measures, I can offer a summer like the ones I had growing up, riding on the back of a tractor picking rocks out of the newly plowed field, sun bleaching our hair, reading books under the shade of our big pine tree. Is it a little crazy for someone like me to take on some of the issues these kids face, alone? Maybe. But, perhaps all they need is that one person to truly, genuinely care. When I hear in the news about children being abused or neglected (Sandusky anyone?), it makes me sick. I can’t sweep those children up in a big bear hug and make it all go away, but I can give this one child a chance to understand that life is not always about pain and that it’s ok to be a kid right now. And I hope that it will help in some small measure, but even if it doesn’t, I know that I did what I could to effect change in a bad situation. And, even if they reject it, any child living with me will be loved. So, why am I doing this? Why not? I need to take the focus off of me and my recent pain. And while having a child might complicate “dating” who cares? Slowly, I am starting to give up on the dream I had of a “typical” family of me and a husband and a handful of kids. For whatever reason, I’m thinking this was simply not meant to be for me. For three years I cried, begged, cajoled, berated, wished, and prayed for a baby of my own. The dream died a slow and painful death. Now, I am free, as a friend put it, to re-invent myself in my 30’s. I’m not sure what the new and improved me 2.0 will be like, but I do know I want to help others, especially children, to stop hurting. I’ve considered mission work both short-term and long-term or getting involved with some NGO’s overseas or non-profits locally. I simply don’t know what the future holds. While I am not shutting the door entirely, I have this nagging feeling that my life does not include the things of my dreams – more and more I am seeing myself as a single woman just out there helping other people. Who knows, my world view might change again soon, but for now this is it….. I know I posted about guys I met previously, but things didn’t work out. One never seemed able to make getting together a priority, the other is still with his girlfriend (despite his claims not to be) and really only wanted to be friends with benefits. And on-line dating is just not for me. I’ve met guys who think its ok to jam their tongue down your throat on the first date, who think they should move in after texting for a few months and meeting one, who make overt sexually advances in the course of the first conversation, and who are so needy, they need a text message sent to them every two minutes to be assured you aren’t mad at them…… I think I have a better chance spotting crazy in-person….. My standards might be too high this go-round and therefore it just seems easier to resign myself to a different kind of life. My brave new world…….