the Morons

The practical fostering info you came here for in the first place.   And some advice from a novice parent that I’ll probably feel embarrassed about giving out when I have learned as much as you all probably already know: a calendar wasn’t too advanced for a 24-month old. It was helpful and alleviated stress for him.   H e didn’t take 64 things to bed and need to take them out of bed with him when he knew what people were going to be part of his day.  We used just a paper with 7 boxes and printed pictures to represent his normal activities and then taped them to the day in the order that they were going to happen.  "Here's tomorrow, Wednesday, and you'll go to school and then see Ms. B and then see Mommy and Daddy. And after that, Mama is going to come get you and we will come back here." clothing reimbursements (how our county does clothing) are very slow and they are VERY picky about receipts being for exactly things that are obviously only for the child in care

Is this motherhood? My kid is the smartest.  A nd he’s just so funny.   It’s not because I’m biased, right? I want to be with him all the time, but I also keep sneaking away to try and quietly eat chips around the corner. I have all the laundry done but what day is it? I feel nervous to see my son. Butterflies. Every time. How long will I get to love this child?... and is bedtime soon? Six hours to go?! How is that possible? It’s just poop, it’s not that gross. Do you think that person over there wants to see a picture of my kid?   He’s so cute, they do I bet. When I think about the first day I met you I want to cry. Or I do cry; but usually only if I’m in a really public place where it’s weird to cry. Is this motherhood? I hope my smart, funny son is coping with being back home. I hope his mom understands that he’s experiencing trauma now and that tantrums are probably for a reason. I mean maybe they’re not for any reason other than that he’s little an

H goes home to his birth family next weekend. There's a wide array of feelings associated with this knowledge. The ratio of relief to sadness is pretty much the inverse of what it would have been a month ago, especially for Beth. As recently as December, when people would ask us (/tell us) how sad we were going to be when he went home, I sort of felt pressured to agree. Our response was always, "Yeah, it will be nice to have some free time again, but it will be sad too." I felt like a monster if I didn't add the last part even though I didn't really mean it. But something changed at some point, I'm not exactly sure when -- it's mind-blowing how fast we go through various phases. In four months, we've experienced: The W phase -- H could perfectly read and recite the entire alphabet since he came to us, but he was really only interested in W's for the first few weeks. We almost nicknamed him W on the blog instead of H. The Dress-up phase -- Earl

Imagine you are relaxing in your house when suddenly a stranger barges in, kidnaps you, and takes you to an unfamiliar place. The people holding you hostage are nice enough -- you are comfortable and well-fed -- but they don't let you wander far, and you don't understand why you're there in the first place. On top of that, they throw you into the car and take you someplace different every day, never telling you where you're going. Sometimes it's to some sort of camp that has other prisoners like you (it's not a terrible prison, considering there's a playground and all, but still). Other times they take you to a small room where you get to be reunited with your family for a little while, only to be torn once again from their embrace. You never know when you'll see them again or for how long. Each separation from them breaks another tiny bit of your heart. As dramatic as it may sound, I think this is exactly how little H is experiencing life right now.

When we missed our first-ever call from the foster agency a couple weeks ago, I thought that Jesus was telling us we weren't ready yet. As it turns out, He was simply priming our hearts. Last Thursday afternoon, we got another call. Beth did in fact remember to take her phone to work this time, so a few hours and a frantic Target run later, there was suddenly a two-year-old boy in our house. We'll call him H. It's been both everything and nothing like what we expected. "Nothing" in the sense that H is a perfectly healthy, super smart and well-behaved kid. I was definitely not expecting that. But "everything" in that it's been a roller coaster of emotions: eager to finally see what it's like to be parents; heavyhearted in witnessing the effects of splitting up a family; gratitude for many things, including our extremely supportive friends, neighbors, and co-workers; and exhaustion due to 12 daily hours of non-stop attention! To be honest, it

Whenever we start to doubt that the Lord knows what He's doing, He almost immediately reminds us that He knows what He's doing. And that He has a great sense of humor. Beth and I are somewhat nervously excited about being foster parents. Nervous because it's going to pop the nice little bubble we live in, but excited because we will have a unique opportunity to influence the future of one or many children's lives. But now that we are nearly three years removed from that first informational meeting at the Fairfax County office, and have yet to influence any futures, it is easy to wonder if we are still walking along the right path or if we have stalled out somewhere. And when we hear about the massive need for foster parents in other areas, it is easy to wonder, why did we choose one of the wealthiest areas in the world, where there are only 200-some-odd foster children in a county of 1.2 million? So twice now, we have asked God whether we are in the right place or w