Getting out of Limbo

Monday evening Chica Marie was evaluated for a TSS worker. This morning she was re-evaluated for sexual abuse (she was evaluated just before moving in with me but it was inconclusive due to her young age). After many moons of little to no services, we’ve hit the motherlode and are now swimming in services. Chica Marie will spend two half-days per week in a special behavioral classroom to get her prepared for kindergarten and she will have a TSS worker with her for 15 hours a week plus her mobile therapist will see her twice a week, once at home and once at daycare. She’s starting school with an IEP. Oh, and her new meds. We finally got permission for her to take the meds, so she started on them today. We’ll see how it goes.

 

The good thing about this morning’s evaluation was having the county case worker there because I got to pick her brain about this case and where things are headed. After her confusing email response to my questions following the planning meeting last month, I had no idea what was happening. She had said not to expect anything to happen at our next permanency hearing, but didn’t really indicate why. She elaborated for me this morning. She has spoken to the little ones bio mom and explained that, although she is doing well now and has recently begun working on what she needs to do, the county has to look at what is best for the kids. She hasn’t seen them since last summer and right now Love Bug is not bonded to her at all. So, given that she still has work to do and the kids have been away from her for so long, the county is pursuing TPR, regardless of her improvements. It’s so sad for her, to think she’s finally doing what she needs to do and it’s just a little too late. The county case worker said she cried when she was told this. The county case worker suggested she try to forge a relationship with me so she could remain a part of the kids’ lives. I really hope she does try to reach out to me, I would welcome her contact and we would work to develop some type of relationship in which she can spend time with the kids, assuming she stays on her current healthy path.  I truly hope this is the case because I would hate to have her totally evaporate from the little ones lives. Poor Love Bug would never remember her and Chica Marie would always wonder what happened to her and where she is now.

 

It was a relief to know the county is actually moving with this case, despite the useless court hearing in May. The county case worker hopes to have TPR before the court date or at the very least, have a date for TPR by then. At least the case seems to be moving, which is better than this stagnant limbo.

My Motivation

Lately I have been thinking about my motivation to write this blog. Why do I do it? I started this blog seven years ago as a different person with a different motivation. I was drowning in the emotional terrors of infertility. I was married and we had been off birth control and actively trying to start a family for a little over two years when I began writing about my feelings and our journey. A year after I began my blog my whole world crumbled around me and I was left trying to put together the broken pieces and heal my broken heart. By this time I had discovered foster parenting and, while some might argue it brought me more pain, it also gave me a purpose. As time began to heal my wounds, I discovered my desire to be a mother was as strong as ever and I decided I would do it alone. I simply didn’t want to wait for a Mr. Right who might never appear. I decided to adopt alone. Paradoxically, I was also actively seeking a mate via on-line dating. Nothing was panning out and the one who came the closest only lasted five months. And so, here we are at present times. I’ve made it to motherhood, through the dark valleys that threatened to ensnare me in the pain of waiting, and I’m still single. I’m in a new territory, in a land I didn’t think I would ever witness and my life has twisted and turned into something I would never had guessed. The people most important to me now were unknown strangers when I began writing this blog. But, my motivation is the same – I write because it helps me sort out some pretty tough feelings. I write because sometimes re-reading my words helps me to understand them better. I write because it is my outlet for the stresses of being a single parent. I could make my blog private and be the sole reader, but there is also a community that comes along with blogging, especially in this infertile/adoptive world. So, I won’t be bullied into cutting everyone off. I will write. This is my story written from my point of view. The opinions are mine alone. I’m not a perfect person and I surely hope my blog doesn’t sound like me trying to act perfect. I’m just a fallible human being like everyone else on this big blue marble. I have faults and bad points and things I would like to change about myself. Many things in fact. But, I have some redeeming qualities as well and every now and again I get something right. My heart is nearly always in the right place, even if my mouth tries to say otherwise. I don’t intentionally try to hurt anyone, but no one is immune to a bad day or poor choice of words. I had hoped that anyone reading this blog would not see it as an opportunity to judge or condemn me, but rather as a glimpse into my inner thoughts on some really tough things. I feel like I have grown A LOT since starting this blog and I hope I will continue to grow. I’m more sinner than saint, more prickly than warm and cuddly, but I do have a good heart that seeks to help when I can. Sometimes I get it right, sometimes I flub it up. To err is human. I’m going to keep writing about the things that happen in my life. If the consequence of that is someone using my words against me, so be it.

Love Hurts

It’s sad that the ones we love the most tend to be the ones who hurt us the worst. Sadly, that’s the down side to love – it can hurt! Love is a beautiful thing, it makes the world a better place. But, when someone learns love in a highly dysfunctional manner, they learn to use it as a weapon. Loving someone means letting them in, letting them see the sides of you that un-loved ones don’t see. Love means being vulnerable. And it is that vulnerability that opens you up to pain when the one you love gets angry or displeased with you. This is when they wield their love like a dangerous two edged sword and stab it deep into the softest part of you where they know it will hurt. This is the place where trust begins to crumble and, if nothing is done to right the wrongs, love begins to die. Before it happened to me, I never understood how someone could be so in love and marry another person only to become bitter, angry rivals when they separate and divorce. Now I understand that it was because the love they had become a weapon they used to slice one another to shreds.

 

Sadly, Primero is dealing with the pain of a loved one hurting him. To him, it registers as loss. It adds to the other losses he has experienced in his life and I think that cuts him deeper than the actual actions being done. Primero held in his heart a hope that his loved one would return to him and things would go back to how they used to be, but just last night he realized the truth – it won’t happen like that. He hurts that his loved one has chosen others over him and he feels pushed to the side – no that sounds too nice - roughly shoved out of the way, tossed to the curb like unwanted refuse. Primero has lived this before with a different loved one and it hurt to watch him go through it then, just as it hurts now. I know there is nothing I can do or say to fix the problem or ease his pain, so I just give him a big hug and tell him I love him. I wish there was more I could do, but really there isn’t. Primero is strong and he is wise beyond his years. He is resilient and resourceful and he knows he has several good people who will always have his back. He knows he is loved and cherished and I hope that will make a difference for him.

Fly-by Visit

The wedding meeting went better than I thought it would. Everyone was civil and some ideas were batted around. I don’t think my mom will be satiated, but at least I know I tried. Nothing has been totally decided yet, but we will be going to a tea room this weekend to see if this would be better than the winery already selected. The major problems with the winery are the location being far for my mom and other relatives in the northern part of the county and the inconvenient time, since they don’t host parties until the winery closes at 6 pm. The excursion to the tea room means I have to find child care this Saturday and spend more time with everyone trying to be on their best behaviors. I’m looking forward to the end of this planning and wedding drama. There has been a lot of it going on, especially between my mom and sister, and I always shoved in the middle of it. I try my best to buffer what I can, but lately I’ve been feeling like my mom has been trying to manipulate me into fighting with my sister. She has made several of the same comments that she attributes to my sister and I don’t know if they are true comments or if they are things implied or twisted to fit for the occasion. Thus far I’ve been accused of being too fat to be in the wedding and that I’m not doing enough to help my sister and she doesn’t think I care about the wedding. Truth or fiction, I do not know, but it hurts to hear it repeatedly nonetheless.

 

Primero was visiting with his uncle this past weekend and while looking at pictures they discovered a baby picture of Primero they didn’t realize they had. Primero took a picture with his phone and showed it to me. His face was beet red and his little mouth was clamped shut in a somber scowl. His hands were framing his head and covered in what appeared to be a crocheted onsie with a matching hat. His dark eyes stared at the camera and, to me, it appeared he was not a happy camper at the moment. Primero also showed me a few other pictures of him as a young boy where he was more pudgy. Primero had been upset during his child prep that there were no baby pictures of him found. The earliest picture was one taken in second grade. I said I would have to ask his aunt and uncle if we could borrow the picture to make a copy so we could have one of him as a baby. It was such a great find and I know it pleases Primero to have that picture of himself.

 

On Sunday Chica Marie’s grandmother called me. We had talked about getting together on Palm Sunday (well, initially I had asked about Good Friday, but that day didn’t work for her) but I hadn’t heard anything so I thought perhaps her plans had changed. She called me while the little ones were sleeping and Primero was with his uncle. She said her daughter would be bringing Mini Momma back to her foster parents place and asked if they could stop in to see us. I agreed and text her my address and a few hours later the aunt (who I’ve met just once before) showed up with her two kids and Mini Momma. Chica Marie immediately began acting up, insisting on being held by her older cousins, and talking nonsense baby talk because it made them laugh. Love Bug clung to me, wailed when I put him down or tried to allow a family member to hold him. He did blow them kisses good-bye and at the very end he let his male cousin hold him. But, when he was passed to his aunt and noticed she was closer to the door than  I was, he panicked and howled. Once the brief visit was over, Chica Marie promptly collapsed by the front door and cried. She said she wanted to live with them, she didn’t want to be “here” anymore. This isn’t the first time she has declared she wants to live somewhere else. And I’m not the first parent to hear a child would prefer another home to their own (usually because the parent is being “mean” by establishing rules or doling out punishments). I was sad because her reality is that her sister gets to live with their grandmother and she doesn’t. And I felt guilty because of my worry that I’m not enough for her (see this blog post about being selfish), that maybe she would truly be better off with a family member. I guess that is silly because A) I don’t feel that way about Love Bug B) it’s not really an option that has been presented and C) the grass always looks greener when you can only see a small patch of it. Still, with all the worries that Chica Marie causes and the difficulties she has, I find myself forever questioning if me alone is good enough for her. I want to keep her relationship with her family and I expressed how happy I was that aunt stopped by. I told the grandmother I wanted to try to see her and Mini Momma more regularly once Mini Momma is settled. No one really knows Love Bug because he’s been with me since birth and I want to give him the opportunity to know his family as he grows up. When the family first arrived and Love Bug was being shy, he had his head laid on my shoulder, as is his custom. I kissed him lightly on the forehead and combed my fingers through his hair, as is my customer and I caught the aunt watching us. I thought about how weird it must have been to see me with her nephew like that – him so scared of his family but so comforted by me. Love Bug is a momma’s boy, there’s no doubt about that. I try to encourage him to not be shy and he will warm up and interact with other people he doesn’t know too well, but he only wants to be held by me or Primero. Just as my relationship has grown with Primero’s aunt and uncle, it has been slowly growing with Chica Marie’s grandmother and other extended family. I hope it will continue and I hope we will be able to be more involved. Only time will tell.

Worry Less

I have lost track of how many times I have dreamt I was pregnant. I know it’s a reoccurring theme in my dreams. I think it came up in my dreams last night because I was mentally patting myself on the back for a small victory in over-coming my infertile past. Tuesday night there was some scent or combination of scents in the house that was just driving me nuts. It got to the point it was making my head hurt. Primero spilled cinnamon and so he blamed it on that, but the smell wasn’t cinnamon. It was way more gross than that. Wednesday morning, as I was driving to a training at the capital about an hour away, the smell of dairy cow manure (this will sound strange, but I have a pretty good nose when it comes to discerning what type of manure I smell……) was making me feel sick to my stomach. I thought it was strange how strong smells were bothering me but not once during either of those times did my mind jump to PREGNANT with an aversion to smells! Maybe, that’s simply because it would be impossible (no sperm, no baby!), but I congratulated myself none the less. Obviously, the idea did eventually come to mind, which is how I knew to congratulate myself and thus the reason why I believe I was dreaming I was pregnant.

 

So, here’s the dream: I knew or suspected I was pregnant but I didn’t want to admit it to myself or anyone else because I was pregnant by my ex, Flaco. Why on earth he popped up in my dream, I do not know. I haven’t thought about him or seen him in a long time. The last time we spoke was when he brought the divorce paperwork over for me to sign. That was a long time ago! I did seem him at the neighbor’s house last fall but we did not speak. Not one word. I had nothing to say to him and no interest in hearing from him. I thought it was pretty strange he just showed up at the neighbor’s house out of the blue. So, in my dream I was pretty upset about the whole thing and I guess I was trying to deny it. I ended up starting to show and so decided I needed to come clean with myself and others and also get some prenatal care. In my dream the doctor’s office I went to was where my nurse practitioner used to work and where I had my first steady job in high school (yup, I washed the speculums!). My nurse practitioner doesn’t work there anymore, but whatev. So, her nurse (she doesn’t usually work with a nurse) was a male nurse (which, in real life I’m leery of men working in Ob/Gyn – I mean, come on!) named Nathaniel. He was gorgeous! Tall, muscular, dirty blond hair and green/blue eyes with a dazzling smile and just the sweetest bedside manner. In my dream he found me weeping in my van after hearing I was expecting twins during my first appointment. He sat in the passenger’s seat while eating his lunch and talked to me about EVERYTHING, including the fact that I was so ashamed about having slept with my ex and getting knocked up by him. Dear sweet nurse Nathaniel listened and then told me how courageous I was, how beautiful I was and asked me out to dinner. My dreams must be written by my inner teenager, because of course we fell in love over dinner and Nathaniel ended up being there with me when I gave birth to the twins (a boy and a girl). Flaco got jealous and tried to win me back by proposing marriage. To which, I responded there was no way in hell I would ever dream of getting married to him again. He then promptly disappeared (not unlike real life, I’d say) and I ended up marrying kind nurse Nathaniel and having a whole bushel more babies. You know, after we moved my current brood of 5 into his immense house because Nathaniel had inherited his grandparents enormous estate. Sadly, what I remember most about the dream is that feeling of shame.

 

So, now that the drama has slowed to more of a trickle with Esperanza, the wedding drama for my sister’s July nuptials has blown sky high. The mother of the groom had started planning the bridal shower and my mom is livid because she wasn’t informed and this isn’t how things are supposed to be done. She blames me because the mother of the groom has kept me in the loop and claimed I was all for the ideas and decisions she had made. I did approve the location for the shower, which my mom is mad about because it’s too far and the only time they have is inconvenient. She doesn’t think anyone from my sister’s side will be there. And, worse, she thinks I tried to keep things from her when really I was being bombarded with things at a time when my personal life was in an upheaval. We are having a meeting this weekend to try to sort things out and I am REALLY not looking forward to it at all.

 

When I say the drama with Esperanza is down to a trickle, I mean that Primero sometimes opens up to me about things because I know they bother him. He did tell me his sister went to the hospital last night but he wasn’t informed if everything was ok or what transpired. In telling a little more about the dynamics, it sounds very much like Esperanza’s bff is trying to keep Primero away from her. This friend has made comments about inviting all the other kids from the CFA over to her house, but sorry Primero you can’t come, you know because your mom is a psycho bitch (the psycho bitch part was implied). And there have been plenty of times, even before the massive fight and ensuing madness, that both the friend and Esperanza have been sure to remind Primero that they are legally adults and he is not. What has transpired is so monumentally sad. I could honestly write volumes about it, but I’m trying so hard to keep it out of my head. I keep trying to disengage, yet I have to be there for Primero. It hurts me to see him be hurt by what others are doing. Yet, some of the things he has said to me also make me immensely proud of him. I don’t know how he became the amazing young man he is, he could easily be reacting in the same way his sister has been. He has a maturity and wisdom beyond his years sometimes and I try to continually remind myself of his fantastic qualities. Last year I was upset about his failing grades and his lack of effort in school and for a short period of time I felt like I had failed him because I didn’t do more to ensure he passed his classes. He still struggles this year but he’s putting in so much more effort. And, this boy who refused to believe he’d make it through high school, has started talking about maybe going to college to be a lawyer or maybe an art school. I don’t know what caused the change in him, but I am glad to see it and I try to encourage him every bit I can. I wish I had been able to help Esperanza more, I wish she had been more open to the help being offered. I’m sure I could have done things differently, but I really don’t think that would have made a difference in the outcome. I try not to worry about her, but I can’t turn it off so easily. When I love someone, I love wholeheartedly. It takes a long time to extract my heart once it’s all in. This is evidenced in how long I messed around with Flaco after he made it clear our marriage was over. I loved him for much longer than I should have and it took a lot more of his total bullshit to finally flip that switch inside of me. I hope that never happens with Esperanza, but I also hope that time will help me to move on more and worry a lot less.   

Diagnosis ADD

So, I did manage to get a dress on Friday. And the best part was it was on clearance so a $70 dress only cost me $9.99!! Woo-hoo! Go me! The party was lots of fun, even if the shoes I wore made my feet hate me. They matched the dress perfectly, so I just had to wear them! It should be noted that I am somewhat infamous for my poor choice in footwear. I’m sure when I’m an old lady I will regret my penchant for fancy heels, but I’m not there yet. The party reminded me of the days of clubs and bars back when I was in college. Only, the party was much, much more tame than that! Still, it was good to get out sans small ones and just be me for a hot minute.

This morning Chica Marie had her psych eval. Oddly, the doctor who did the evaluation used to work for CHOR and now works with the facility that provides Chica Marie with therapy. After conversing with him for a bit (and after he reviewed all the documents submitted for the eval, I’m sure), he decided she is most likely a child with ADD or ADHD. He didn’t really label her, but did recommend medication for her. Ugh! I guess this was in the back of my mind as a possibility, but medicating such a young child! After I met with the doctor and he was interviewing Chica Marie, I sat and spoke with her mobile therapist who was there to help fill in any gaps or simply to facilitate the meeting and make us feel more at ease. In speaking with her I realized that Chica Marie is probably the kind of kid who does in deed need some form of medication to help her be more successful in everyday life. I have such mixed feelings about this particular diagnosis (kids are inattentive, impatient, and full of energy at this age – it sometimes seems hard to draw the line between problematic behaviors and just an active, rambunctious kid) and was leery about starting any medication. The doctor sort of twisted my arm into deciding (he did tell me I could think about it, but Lord knows when we could return to actually get the prescription if I left empty handed). He explained it as three different tiers of medications, with the typical ADD meds listed as the top tier. The third tier he basically felt wasn’t useful and so I went with the second tier, which seemed like a more comfortable option for me. If it doesn’t work, I know we will be looking at the ADD meds, but I’m hoping this medication will be enough to help her concentrate and not be so easily pushed into outbursts that cause her to act impulsively. I guess I need to do some research on this now – real research and not just anecdotal blurbs like I’ve read in the past. I need to know more so I can do more to help Chica Marie.

Fancy Party

 Well, I “met” our new case worker this afternoon. Really, I just spoke with her over the phone regarding my request for respite tonight. I’m going to an adult only fancy birthday party that goes until midnight so I needed some place for the little ones to go, you know, since my mom is out of commission with her broken ankle and whatnot. Anyway, we spoke briefly and set up a time for her to come out to the house to see us. We’ll see how it goes. I’m looking forward to the party tonight but I’m anxious about finding something to wear. In my typical “I-have-no-time-for-me” fashion, I plan on buying a dress right before the shindig begins. You know, after dropping the kiddos off and getting Primero set up to be home alone. All that free-time I have for dress shopping! Sigh……

Am I Selfish?

This morning I had to email about a respite need for this weekend and since I didn’t know who our new case worker was, I sent it to the supervisor (who has been my temporary stand-in case worker twice in the past). She responded with our new case worker's name and email and I was sort of disappointed. While doing the planning meeting last month, our most recent case worker brought along a new worker who got to hear a LOT about our case. This new case worker was mentioned as one of two possibilities for our assigned case worker. I found out this morning it is not her. And I’m bummed because this means our case worker is a total stranger. I haven’t met her yet, so I have no ill-will or bad blood towards her, I just wished it had been someone who knew something – at least we’d be getting a familiar face. I’m not sure when we will meet our new case worker, I imagine soon, and I have to just remain positive about it and ease her into things. From scratch. Sigh.

 

Yesterday I was conversing with a new employee at work. Being new she didn’t really know anything about me, things I assume most of my co-workers know because A) there aren’t that many of us, B) I’m friend with a bunch of them on Facebook and that lends itself to knowing things, and C) I’ve worked here for six years and things just have a way of being known in that amount of time. So, we were talking and I made mention of the baby forgetting that she didn’t know I was a foster-adopt parent. I thought it was obvious, looking at the pictures at my desk, that we aren’t biologically related, but apparently she didn’t think about it the same way. So we chatted a bit about a family she knew who adopted a girl (and didn’t tell her she was adopted until she was 7!) and then wanted to adopt again and got twins, a boy and girl. For whatever reason, this made her question if I was “done” after I adopted the little ones. Oddly enough, no one has ever asked me this question before. I answered honestly, stating I didn’t know, I feel like I’m fairly young (and bless her heart she thought I was closer to her age, which is a whole decade younger than I am!) so I just don’t know what the future might hold. I would like to keep fostering, but at the present time I am lacking room to do so. With this idea in my mind I happened across a fellow foster-adopt blog in which the writer questioned if she wanted a second child and listed many pros and cons to raising a single child or multiple children. Clearly I’m already past the single child state, and even if I did only want one child, none of the children in my care are only children, they all have siblings. I grew up the oldest of three (and this was also mentioned in the post, how one grew up tends to color how one views siblings versus no siblings) and never considered having just one child. In fact, growing up I wanted a BIG family. But, this fellow blogger mentioned how she felt she could be a better mom to just one child and might feel spread too thin if she had/adopted a second. I have been single for nearly all of my fostering journey and, with the exception of a few cases, I have always had multiple kids in my home at the same time (my first placement came alone, as did my second  - Primero also came alone but it wasn’t too long before Love Bug came home). Often times I felt it was easier to have at least two kids because they could occupy one another when I needed to do household chores and things like that. Only one time did I feel overwhelmed by the number of children and it was really because the older girls were rather wild (not naughty, just untrained) and I had never cared for a newborn before, which made for an interesting time. Eventually, we got into a groove and I was able to manage just fine, but the first week or so was touch and go. My mothering skills have improved since then and I’m sure I would face the same situation totally differently today than I did three years ago (has it really been that long?!?!). But, I’m questioning myself now – am I selfish to be raising three kids alone? When things were really off the hook last month with Esperanza, I had reached out to my mom for some emotional support. Instead, I found her to be unsupportive, telling me I couldn’t do “this” on my own (when I told her being a single parent is HARD) and I should just narrow the field to Primero alone. Basically, I had no business raising three kids, was her opinion. Because I showed some weakness, because I showed I was human and therefore vulnerable. I was very hurt by this, especially because it made me feel like I really couldn’t handle things AND it made me feel like she doesn’t care about the little ones – they are like an unused appliance to be shipped off to someone who can find use in them. I’m sure she didn’t mean to come off that way, but that’s sort of how it sounded. I think I shall be pondering this issue for a while now, thinking if I’m doing the right thing by forging on alone. Am I enough for these three kids? Am I enough for Love Bug and Chica Marie as a single mom? Primero has made it clear that he prefers to be raised by a single mother, so I don’t doubt so much with him. Just the babies because surely the county could find them a loving two parent home with ease. But, am I selfish to want to keep them and adopt them all by myself?  

Pizza at the Farm

Yesterday my mom went home from rehab. My dad had mentioned to me over the weekend that, barring any sudden issues, she would most likely be released to go home after seeing the doctor on Monday. She had learned how to navigate without putting weight on her damaged leg and managed to be independent in her living quarters, so she proved she could go home. After work yesterday afternoon, I grabbed a pizza, the kiddos, a change of clothes and raced up to the farm. After we ate the pizza and I cleaned up that mess (because babies – toddlers, I need to call Love Bug a toddler! – don’t care if making a mess makes more work for you!), I helped my dad raise the recliner love seat so my mom could get out of her seat more easily and then helped him take the bathroom door off the hinges so she could maneuver the wheelchair and walker into the bathroom without assistance. I cleaned up as much as I could with Love Bug strapped to my hip. I don’t know what his problem was, but he was uber clingy last night and howled anytime I put him down. I’m not sure if he was tired and cranky from missing some of his nap to see the dentist or if he was just irritated that his schedule was thrown off. Primero was not along because he was at the CFA so I had no one to wrangle the baby. My parents dog (a HUGE yellow lab) tried to calm the baby but his massive presence only made Love Bug more anxious to be held. I made plans to go back to the farm on Thursday after work to prepare dinner, since my dad will be at the market until later in the day. My mom seems to be easily overwhelmed by her limitations right now, so we are trying to get her to take things day by day. I’m sure I would be just as anxious about things if I were in her position. It isn’t easy but at least it isn’t permanent. She will eventually be able to use her foot again, once the cast is off.

 

Yesterday I spoke with Hermano for a little bit via text. He said he’s been working a lot to try to save money for when he is not in care and when the baby comes. He has been able to attend a few appointments with his girlfriend but he indicated there was one yesterday he wasn’t able to attend (I wonder why she has had so many appointments this early in her pregnancy – is this normal I wonder?). He wanted to come over and see us soon and I said that would be fine. He said they do plan to learn the sex of their baby, a question Primero didn’t know the answer to when I asked him. He also indicated everyone is healthy thus far – at least I think he did. It’s sometimes hard to understand what Hermano writes in a text or which of the 100 questions I’ve asked he is answering. I ask a lot of questions – too many by some people’s standards. But, questions are how I learn and questions are how I show I care. If I don’t ask questions about something you are telling me, chances are I’m not listening…. Call it a personality flaw. Anyway, I’m not sure if or when we will see Hermano but it was nice to talk with him briefly.

 

The days have been so warm this week, it’s hard to believe it is only the beginning of March. I doubt the warm weather can last too long, but it is beginning to give me Spring Fever and I’ve begun thinking about what to do with my flower gardens this year. Last year they were abysmal and became nothing more than a weed infestation. I want for them to be different this year, but we shall see. I lose a lot of my motivation when the days are steaming hot and the house is cooled by the AC. I think I need to plant more things so there is less room for weeds to grow. That, and I need mulch. I love Spring for all the project ideas it brings to my mind! And, the yard sales will be starting soon, so I can generally find the things I want for my project ideas. Yippee!

Dental Pro

At work this morning I reached into the back of my shirt because I felt something tickling me between the shoulder blades. When I pulled my hand down with the offending culprit I discovered it was one of Esperanza’s bright red hairs (before we died her hair deep brown, her natural color). For a minute I stared sadly at the hair, finally feeling the loss from all that has happened. As I watched the hair fall from my finger into the trash can I sighed and tried to mentally switch gears. I needed something to distract me, so I began thinking of the dental appointment with the little ones this afternoon.

 

Friday morning Love Bug has a brief WIC appointment. While we were there, Chica Marie got in trouble for being rude to another (younger) boy and in the midst of that correction, she pushed her brother to the ground. So, as I was admonishing her for being a bully to the younger kids, Love Bug was spinning himself in circles behind me. And then he fell. I saw his mouth hit the floor and raced to him, but the damage was done. He chipped his front tooth. Both Primero and I tried to determine if it was bad enough to seek immediate dental care, but it seemed no nerves were affected by the chip. Still, I called the dentist. I had already made an appointment for him as recommended by his pediatrician because he sucks his left pointer finger incessantly and there’s fear he is messing up his teeth and soft pallet. So, when I called Friday they recommended I just keep the appointment or take Love Bug to the ER if he seemed to be in pain. This afternoon the dentist declared no nerve appears to be exposed and so they won’t really do anything for his chipped tooth but monitor it to be sure he doesn’t get an abscessed tooth. Yikes! The dentist will also order a finger guard to help stop him from sucking that finger. Apparently, insurance doesn’t cover it, but she said it wouldn’t be expensive. We go back in 6 months.

 

Generally, I dread going to the dentist with Chica Marie. She is uncooperative (because she’s a kid) and scared and so it’s just not a good combo. While we did run into issues with the kids waiting (Love Bug ran off through the office with Chica Marie in hot pursuit), Chica Marie was exemplary as a patient this afternoon. She stood patiently while the dental hygienist took her x-rays and she opened her mouth nice and wide while her teeth were being cleaned. She was excited to get her new toothbrush and sticker and happily skipped out of the office like it ain’t no thang. Oh, I am so glad she can handle the dentist now! Whew! Of course, Love Bug was not nearly so cooperative. Toddlers! Sheesh! (that was a joke, in case it doesn’t come across that way…..)

 

My mom came home from the rehab today. My dad said she might be moved when I saw him over the weekend, but he didn’t confirm this with me as I had asked him to. So I text both of them from work. They replied about the same time. My dad said, “We are home. J” my mom said, “I’m home and the house is a mess! L.” So I told them I’m getting a pizza and coming over for dinner so I can straighten up for my mom and hopefully keep her resting and not cleaning – haha! Still, I do hope it helps her some. I have no idea when she plans to return to work. She still has to wear her cast for at least 4 more weeks. It might be a long 4 weeks!

Similar Dreams

Primero and I shared similar dreams last night. Both involved Esperanza. Primero dreamt that Esperanza, her boyfriend and his youngest sister were all staying in his bedroom. He said I was there with the little ones but we were more like statues, just sitting in the living room watching TV. He mentioned how his youngest sister kept running up and down the basement stairs and how Esperanza and her boyfriend got into a fight and the boyfriend left. In my dream, Primero had aged 10 years but the rest of us were the same age. Primero was living with his girlfriend and was contemplating popping the question, so he came over for dinner to talk to me about it. After we discussed this topic he said, “You know I also came here to ask you a favor.” It turns out Esperanza (who was still 18 in my dream) just found out she was expecting and when she told her boyfriend, he threw some money at her, told her to get an abortion and then split. Esperanza was scared and needed help. Dream Primero concocted a plan to have Esperanza move in with me and switch to a night shift when the baby was born so she could watch the baby during the day and I would watch the baby in the evenings and at night. I readily agreed to the plan and, in my dream, Esperanza and I spent the rest of our living days raising her son and my two little ones.

 

When we compared dreams this morning, Primero noted how they were similar and I said we were probably both thinking and worrying about Esperanza. Today I wore the Mother necklace the kids gave me for Christmas. Under the word “Mother” hang four colored charms denoting the birth month of each child. When they presented me with the necklace it already had the appropriate charms on it. I love the necklace and even though things are rough with Esperanza right now (I mean, she basically hates me), my feelings haven’t changed. I know I’m a fool, I’m sure there would be no shortage of people to tell me so, but I’m stubborn, I don’t give up easily. Because I feel badly about the outcome, I keep thinking of ways I could have prevented what happened from happening. I’m sure there are things I might have done differently, but I honestly don’t know if those things would have resulted in a different outcome. Perhaps it would have only prolonged the inevitable and made being in the house unbearable for so many members. As always, hindsight is 20/20 and looking back isn’t always healthy. So, I’ve begun looking forward. I hope there can be some reconciliation but I don’t know that it will happen any time soon. As I told Primero, I’m not going anywhere and what has happened isn’t going to keep me from participating just as I have been doing these past two years. Whether we like it or not, we are tied together as family. Primero can try his hardest, when he is angry with me, to make me feel like an outsider and not a member of his family, but he won’t succeed. The same goes for Esperanza. I won’t stop caring about her just because she is angry with me and wants to cut me out of her life. The fact is, she can’t, at least not entirely. I suppose she can decide to not attend family functions when she knows I will be there, but hopefully she won’t, hopefully she will still attend and enjoy her family as she should. I suppose only time will tell.

 

I have spent enough time beating myself up over everything and so I am now trying to as gracefully as possible, disentangle myself from the mess. It’s not something I’m good at doing, but I have been trying to shift my focus back onto Primero and the younger kids. On Saturday I took Chica Marie on a mini girls day out. We grabbed a quick lunch at Wendy’s (her request) and then went to see the new Disney movie “Zootopia.” The movie was good, Chica Marie was ok. She wanted popcorn and a soda, so we got small ones to share. She ate almost all of the popcorn and would have drunken all the soda, but I moved it away from her so she wouldn’t have to get up to pee in the middle of the movie. About half-way through the movie she asked me loudly if we could leave because she was bored. After the movie when we were back in the car she told me the movie was boring and could she have more junk food. I suppose it’s too much to ask for a little gratitude from a 5 year old, but it certainly didn’t make all the effort seem like it was having the affect her therapist had hoped for. Her mobile therapist wanted us to spend more alone time together in hopes of strengthening our bond. Instead, she asked why she couldn’t see her other mommy and wished she had spent the afternoon with her grandmother instead. Sigh. This Saturday I am hoping to have some alone time with Primero. He has gone off with his uncle a lot lately, and I know his uncle is trying to spend more time with him, but it’s starting to become a bit too much. Initially, Primero was doing it to get away from me because he didn’t want to deal with the elephant in the room. Now I’m not so sure. I know it’s not cool as a teenager to spend time with your mom. But, sometimes we just need to reconnect, especially with all that has been happening. We shall see how things go.

Changing of the Guard - Again!

Another one bites the dust! Our new case worker, the one we just met the day Primero was adopted, has found a new job and her last day with CHOR is today. Sigh. So, we are once again getting a new case worker. Our third since our beloved case worker moved to Florida the end of July. Fortunately, I am able to manage with less case worker support than I needed in the past. I don’t feel as alienated as I had with the case worker during placement Four, but I do feel rather put out. It takes a long time to get used to a new case worker, to really be able to trust and talk to them and not have it feel like a business transaction. And that’s just me! It isn't easy for the kids to get used to someone new either. Luckily, little Love Bug has no clue he’s move onto his fifth case worker, but Chica Marie remembers her previous workers and often times calls the new worker by their names. She’s also on her fifth case worker. So much for stability within the system itself! I know this case worker wanted to do a good job, she was very earnest, but every time we change hands a little something gets lost. And, quite frankly, it gets old having to re-explain us and the kids and our situation and what’s going on with the kids. We are in the midst of things with Chica Marie and now it will be totally up to me to be sure everything is covered. I suppose, in some respect, it’s simply preparation for adoption, when everything will be up to me anyway. But, that isn’t happening anytime soon, at least not according to the email I received from the county case worker last week. So, until then, I will just have to keep repeating things to different case workers and hope I don’t leave anything out!

Spring Renewal

Unlike most people, I don’t despise the winter months. I remember when I left for the Peace Corps it was late summer with the days still steamy hot and the nights still muggy. Nicaragua was much the same, with long days of sunshine heating the earth. But, as my time wore on in training, I realized I was waiting for something. I was bracing myself for the usual seasonal change in weather, for that first cold day when you know it’s time to get out the winter gear. Only, in Nicaragua it never really got any cooler, it just rained a lot more during the months of Northern Hemisphere winter. The rainy season in the area I was assigned to was abysmally short resulting in a much longer and pronounced dry season. I imagine how I felt about the dry season in Sabana Grande, Nicaragua is how most people feel about winter in Pennsylvania. I hated the dry season. Where I lived the rainy season stretched from September through December. In the northern mountains of Nicaragua the rainy season would return after a brief hiatus in January and in some areas there were as many wet months as dry. Not in El Horno. It stopped raining by January and then the heat would start to climb, quickly drying up what water was gained. By April the pools of water and thick patches of mud had turned to fine powdery dust that covered everything in a sticky brown film. The river stopped flowing and drinking wells expelled their last drops of water. And still the sun baked the earth relentlessly, with not a cloud in the sky. The heat became oppressive, like a living thing hell-bent on total annihilation, blistering and wilting everything in its path. The nights no longer cooled the burning of the tortuous sun. The parched earth cracked and groaned for the brief rains of May and June to bring some relief. Some years rain doesn’t fall again until September, plunging the whole area into a water crisis as man and beast fought for every last drop of moisture. I vowed to never be in Nicaragua again during the month of April, to never again subject myself to the unquenched visceral desire for water. I liken my distain for the dry season in Nicaragua to my fellow Northerner’s displeasure of the winter months. While I love snow and prefer a brisk and chilly day to sweltering heat, I don’t love the shorter days (something else I didn’t experience in Nicaragua – the length of the days is fairly static being so much closer to the Equator) and long, dark nights, but other than that winter doesn’t bother me. Still, I’m not immune to Spring Fever. We’ve had a string of warm days and now, today it’s cold again and my mind just cannot grasp the change. I noticed this morning the sun was up earlier than usual and in the evening it sets much slower. Oddly, in Nicaragua you can literally watch the sun sink beneath the horizon. It is a much faster event than it is farther north. In Nicaragua the sun seems to scurry out of the sky where here in PA during the summer months it lingers with the long last rays of sunshine still dancing in the sky as the moon makes its appearance. The warm days this early in March are such a tease. I want them to stay, but know there are still many chances for cooler weather to return. Still, as nature rouses itself from winter’s doze, I’m anxious to partake in the renewal. This time of year I always want to dig in the earth and coax green things to grow. Perhaps it is instinctual to me as it is to the plants. Moreover, right now I was to slough off the chaos and pain of what has occurred and coax my little family to take root. I’m ready for a personal renewal to rival Spring’s glory.

 

Here are the things I hope for this Spring:

 

• I hope Esperanza will begin talking to me again soon and I hope we can repair our relationship. I miss her a great deal.
• I hope Esperanza will attend her prom or perhaps her boyfriend’s prom because I feel she will regret it if she doesn’t. I would love if she would let me help her pick out a dress (or at least see the dress) and her hair style. That would be a lot of fun.
• I hope Hermano’s girlfriend has a baby shower and I hope we (Primero, Esperanza, Mr J and his girlfriend, Aunt W and Uncle G and I) are invited. It would be fun if they did their gender reveal there (unless they decide to not know the gender before birth, which is so rare these days). Both Primero and I are hoping for a girl. I love buying baby girl clothing! I also hope Hermano will bring the baby for visits with us, but if they live where his girlfriend is living now, it would be quite a hike.
• I hope Primero gets his driver’s license this summer.    
• I hope we don’t have to wait until next year for the little ones adoption.
• I hope Esperanza will allow me to attend her high school graduation (I’m hoping she will want her brother there more than she will not want me there).
• I hope my bees survived the winter.
• I hope Love Bug starts speaking and stops biting.
• I hope my mom is able to be out and about because she will not be a happy camper to watch Spring bloom from a seat
• I hope we are able to have more outings with Mini Momma and perhaps Grandma too. Right now I’m hatching a scheme to take Mini Momma on an excursion to a local orchard on Good Friday for an Easter egg hunt and other fun festivities. I’d really like to be able to involve her more in those types of events.

Problematic Blog

For not the first time, what I write here has gotten me in trouble. You’d think I would learn, but I don’t. Writing on my blog is my outlet and the only way I stay sane during some of the difficulties foster adoption brings into my life. I could make my blog private and only allow select people to read it and I have thought about going that route. But, I find it helpful to read other blogs by people who have gone or are going through the same things as me. If my blog can help someone in that way, I want to be able to do that. I guess that’s stupid, especially considering how what I write here has been used against me, but I will just have to scrutinize what I read more and censure what I write.

 

Yesterday was another tough day. Every time I think it’s the last of the drama, more bubbles to the surface and I’m spinning in the vortex once again. Because of what was written on my blog (which I only found out later), I received a vitriolic text from Esperanza telling me to stop talking about her. I assumed she had spoken to her uncle, since some of the things she brought up were part of a conversation I had with Aunt W. As it was intended to, the text cut me to the quick and I was left reeling. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I found out through conversation with Aunt W and Uncle G that Primero had hacked my accounts and was reading all of my personal information. Honestly, the pain in knowing my trust had been so broken and I had been so violated hurt me more than Esperanza acerbic words. Uncle G told me to just let it go and not say anything to Primero. But, when I picked him up from the CFA last night I could not keep his intrusive act from my mind. When we got home he laid his phone down and walked away so I scooped it up and hid it. After I let him search for it a bit we got into it and he said a lot of very harsh things in an attempt to hurt me. He called me his caretaker and indicated (as his sister did in her earlier text) that I was not in fact a part of their family. I called him on it, told him he could sling every prickly barb and insult at me that he could think of, but I wasn’t going to bite. Not this time. Not anymore. I’ve become calloused to his contemptuous slurs when we are fighting. He knows my weak spot and he goes right for it. But, I’m onto his game now and while it still might hurt I won’t react to it anymore. After our spat and I had collected his computer, he went downstairs assuring me he wouldn’t learn anything by me taking his electronics and he would still find a way to get online. I went to my bedroom to get the baby to sleep and hash things out with my friends.

 

It wasn’t too long after that Primero came back upstairs claiming he had figured everything out. He spoke to his Uncle G and discovered it was his uncle who alerted me to the hack. I don’t what all they talked about but Primero came upstairs with a whole different attitude. He came upstairs as himself again, instead of the cocky little brat he was when we were fighting. We talked. We apologized. We finally began healing from last month’s chaos and drama. We worried about his sister, mutually. And Primero finally saw what I have been desperate for him to see all this time. I am not lashing out maliciously towards Esperanza or her friend. Yes, there were some things that were reported that caused them issues, but that stems from concerns, not from anyone trying to harm them. I told him I hold no grudge or anger towards Esperanza. I care about her, I love her and I still consider her a part of my family. I know she hates me right now and blames me for all sorts of things. She has said some horrible things to me and threatened me, but I get it. No one has ever stood up to her before. No one has ever cared enough to get on her bad side for a good reason. No one has ever given her the chance to run because they kicked her to the curb before she could muster up the strength. She desperately wants to be an adult but she hasn’t really had healthy adult behavior modeled to her and so she doesn’t really know how to do it. I told Primero last night that, despite everything that has happened (and I could fill volumes), if Esperanza asked me for help I would still help her. Because, like it or not, we’re family now. I’m not a saint. I’m far, far from it. I’m just another fallible human being like the rest of us. I just don’t give up, not on people and especially not on kids. I’m too trusting. I try to find the good in people, give them the benefit of the doubt. I try not to hold a grudge or let the users of the world make me jaded. Some might call me a fool. My own mother calls me a bleeding heart and is forever admonishing me that I can’t save the world all by myself. I’m not trying to save the world and I’d rather have a heart that bleeds than a stone cold one (not saying my mother has a stone cold heart). I just want to do what I can to make my corner of the world a better place. And I know the cost! If I didn’t before, I certainly do now. The price is steep. I’ve lost countless hours of sleep and spent umpteen hours berating myself for not doing things better. I’ve been put down and have had mud slung in my face. My good deeds do no go unpunished! Still, I soldier on. What else can I do? I stay. It might make a difference, it might not, but at least I will know I have done all I can do.     

When it Rains, it Pours

In addition to the chaos with Primero and Esperanza, multiplied by the never-ending issues with Chica Marie, added to the regular stressors of work and life, and beyond the unfortunate accident with my mom, I have sudden come a realization regarding baby Love Bug. His occupational therapist (O.T.) needed me to sign off on his quarterly review paperwork and since she was sick when we were supposed to meet last week, she came to my job. We spoke briefly about Love Bug and as we did I began to recognize how I had had the blinders on regarding this particular child. To me, he’s still a baby, my baby, that sweet bundle that slept peacefully on my chest. He needed me to much as an infant, not just in the typical ways, but in every way. He was a needy baby. I assumed it had something to do with attaching to a mother who did not carry him for nine months or perhaps the drugs in his system when he was born. I assumed as he grew his neediness would lessen. I fooled myself into believing it had. But, in speaking with his therapist I realized it has not. Love Bug is no longer a needy baby, he is a needy toddler. And, somehow his neediness is transforming into explosive temper tantrums when he does not get what he wants immediately. And, as if I needed more proof of this, all of his petulant, needy behaviors were on display at the eye doctor appointment yesterday. Unfortunately, when I picked Love Bug up from daycare I had to rouse him from his nap. He did not fall back asleep in the car, as I had hoped, and so he was cranky when we got to the appointment. It all went downhill from there. At first he was just being a typical toddler, wanting to explore the room and try to climb on everything. But, when he was told no or redirected from touching things he shouldn’t be touching, he would throw himself to the ground violently and try to kick something – me, the wall, a toy, a chair. He wasn’t satisfied until his feet inflicted some sort of damage on something. Even after the drops were put in his eyes to dilate them and we were sent to a playroom to wait for the final analysis, his behaviors persisted. They got worse in fact. The room we were in had a door (thankfully) and then a wall of glass windows looking into the waiting room, and Love Bug delighted in pounding on the windows with both his fists and his feet. I tried to get Love Bug interested in the toys. He threw the blocks and anything else I tried to show him. I tried holding him, but he would slither from my lap to the floor and resume kicking at me or pushing himself across the room on his back. After we were done seeing the doctor we became a spectacle while trying to check out and leave. I had too many things in my hands, my purse, our coats, the paperwork from the doctor and Love Bug. I tried to set him at my feet, but he ran off and I had to chase him as the receptionist was trying to talk to me to check us out. Love Bug protested me picking him up and tried to throw himself out of my arms. I set him down again and tried to put his jacket on him. He threw himself to the floor and began kicking at me and howling. I heard someone say in Spanish that he was tired. By this point, so was I. As I hastily gathered our things (the receptionist had given up trying to talk to me and just shoved the paperwork at me and walked away), I tried to walk out with some shred of dignity but was never so glad to wrestle Love Bug into his car seat and be on our way. He was simply incorrigible. His therapist described him as having an infantile nervous system, as in his ability to regulate his behaviors is much behind his chronological age. I worry a lot about my part in this (nurture) as well as what part his prenatal care and genetic make-up have to do with his behaviors (nature). Have I been raising him in a way that promotes these behaviors? Did I indeed hold him too much, coddle him too much, try to appease him too much thus allowing his inability to self-soothe to persist rather than diminish? Did he not get enough of the right attention from me when he was tiny because I was a sleep-deprived single working mom? Or is this a result of a tumultuous existence in the womb with a biological mother stressed from the loss of her children (Chica Marie and Mini Momma were in care for most of the time their mom was pregnant with Love Bug) and self-medicating her mental health issues? Will I be able to help both Love Bug and Chica Marie with the same troubling behaviors? Will Love Bug out-grow his temper tantrums, as most toddlers do? I keep hoping language will help ease some of Love Bug’s issues – that if he is able to verbalize his needs or wants that perhaps he won’t be so demanding and needy and not as quick to lose his temper. Obviously no one has the answers to the questions I ask. Only time will tell with both Love Bug and Chica Marie if they will become productive, happy adults or follow a path of self-destruction as their mother seems to be doing. I hope I am helping them in the process but I feel more like a failure than I ever feel like I’m doing anything right.

 

This past Sunday marked two years since Primero moved in. I hadn’t mentioned anything to him, given all the problems that have been going on lately, but he did remember the date’s significance. Maybe it’s silly to keep remembering the day, but I like to think on it because it was a happy time. Primero was happy to be in my home and not in his previous foster home. I don’t know if he still feels that way anymore and certainly a lot of things have happened since that day two years ago. Primero has grown a lot from the boy he was to the young man he is now. I’d like to think I have grown too, but mostly I think I’ve become worse. I feel like my patience is shorter, that I tolerate less than perhaps I did in the past. Some of that might have to do with my change in roles, from foster parent to parent, but not all of it. Not even most of it I’d bet. All of the drama with Esperanza and Primero has wrung me out. I feel depleted. And I feel like I am nothing but my flaws. I fear the brokenness has seeped into my morrow and now I too am damaged and unlike the person I used to be or could have been. I guess it’s a good thing I’m going to therapy.

 

 

So I did finally hear back from the county case worker regarding the unanswered questions from the planning meeting. She did indicate that the little ones grandmother has agreed to keep contact open and plan joint events. She noted the grandmother seemed eager to do this, which is good. And while the county is pursuing termination of rights for the children’s mother sometime the end of March or April, the case worker indicated there would be nothing new to report at court in May. Certainly an adoption seemed before the next court date seemed out of the question. This makes me so, so sad for Love Bug especially. He will be two the end of June. And while Chica Marie has been in foster care longer than Love Bug, it somehow seems sadder to think he’s spent his entire life in foster care. It’s also frustrating because the county case worker indicated the kids mom is in specialized housing and working on some of the steps she needs to take, so how does this not contradict their move to terminate rights? I honestly feel bad for their mom because it seems like the county is being duplicitous – they offer her these services using her kids as the carrot for her to chase, knowing full well they are looking to sever ties. The tangled web of the system. Perhaps more will be revealed in court, I don’t know. I’ve learned how to wait a little more patiently.