Get Up-to-Speed

I didn’t want to over-burden them with my dilemma when I was pondering what to do about keeping the kid or letting him go – that decision was made the same week my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, so it wasn’t a good time to whine about my issues. Since then I have not really found the right time or way to tell my parents the decision that was made. They don’t know how I agonized over deciding to keep him and the relief I felt once the decision was made and they do not know of the plans to make the room in the basement my bedroom, giving more space upstairs. At dinner last night the kid and I were picking my mom’s brain about circumstances that would allow a child living in one district to go to a school in another district (we were asking her because back in the day she served on the local school board). Other than wanting to join FFA, it doesn’t seem to likely the kid could go to the neighboring school district closest to where I live, he would have to go to the district I live in regardless of distance. He doesn’t want to go to this school and I can’t blame him because I don’t want him to go to that school either. He also doesn’t want to go to a private school because the only private schools in the area are religiously affiliated and require the students to take theology classes (one is Catholic and one is Christian). When we posed the question my mom asked, “Why? Do you think you will have a kid in school in the fall?” Laughing we pointed to the kid and said, “Um, yeah, this one.” She asked, “Do you think you will have him that long?” I mumbled I didn’t know, which is the truth, and the topic of conversation changed without me fessing up where and how things are going with the kid. I guess, at that point, I didn’t want to blurt out that his stay was indefinite unless his mother gets her act together in the next 6 months. I’m sensitive to the fact that, regardless of anyone’s opinion of her parenting skills, she is his mother and he loves her very much. Even when he gets frustrated with her, I never say a single disparaging word about her because it’s not my place. I have been very judgmental of biological mothers in the past and I’m trying to turn over a new leaf in that aspect of foster parenting. Part of it stems from my perceptions as an infertile, that mothers who don’t do things the way I would do them are undeserving of the children they have – it’s a tough mindset to overcome because often times the parenting styles I see as a foster mother are detrimental to the children I have grown to love. But, back to the story at hand – my parents are unaware of the position of this case not because I don’t think they would be supportive but because I didn’t want to add to their worries. I do need to get them up-to-speed before someone drops a bomb on them (like the kid) in a startling fashion. I will find a way to do this and soon.

Last night I had a dream. It was a simple dream, just of a Facebook post. I had a picture of me and the kid all gussied up for court. We beamed proudly at the camera and the caption read, “I am officially the proud mother of this beautiful young man! I’m so happy and blessed to call him my son!” In the dream I wept for joy. After so many years of nothing but tears of agony and pain, there was a lovely lightness to the happy tears and a serene sense of peace. As I stirred from the dream I wished I could capture that beautiful feeling of contentment and joy that I find so elusive in my life right now. I prayed to God the dream was a vision of the good things yet to come.