Disabled, officially. For now.

I’ve written before about my health struggles (see here). In sum, I have psoriatic arthritis and ulcerative colitis – both of which are autoimmune diseases – and fibromyalgia, which is an issue with the pain system of the body.

The good news is I’ve been awarded social security disability, for now. It’s been a two and a half year process of applying, having a stupidly ridiculous medical exam meant to exclude people from getting disability, being denied, hiring an attorney (ask me for his name if you’re in CNY and need one – he’s da bomb diggety), appealing, being denied again, appealing again, submitting oodles more paperwork, getting a doctor’s report stating I am, in fact, not able to work right now, and having a trial before an administrative law judge.

The whole process was honestly pretty degrading, except for the attorney and the administrative law judge. Both were kind. But having every ounce of your health pulled out and examined and being doubted by the system the whole time is just simply awful.

I sadly cannot work as a lawyer right now. You don’t need all the gory details, but I’ll put it this way: I cannot conduct depositions and hold meetings and write briefs while running to the bathroom 8x times per day in an “it’s an emergency” fashion, nor can I do those things while needing 12-14 hours of sleep a day, including during the middle of the day.

I’m immensely relieved to have this little reprieve where I can get disability payments while I work on my health. It’ll be up for review again before I even know it, but at least, for now, I’ll have some income to help out our household. Funds have been tight. Both our cars need replacement. We need a new roof. We haven’t had the cash to do those things and the car repair payments are taking their own toll. Most of y’all know what it’s like to be broke. I don’t need to elaborate too much.

After getting the judge’s decision granting me disability, I’ve felt like I can breathe again.

The other good news is that I’m on a new-to-me drug called Stelara, that I just started about a month and a half ago. Getting it, too, was a ridiculous runaround. The manufacturer dropped the ball somewhere during the process of getting the drug to the specialty pharmacy, and I had to spend hours (literal hours) tracking down what had gone wrong and where so that I could get my first shipment of the drug. It delayed treatment by about a month. A month of not being on any immunosuppressants and feeling like poo. Heh, literally.

A month and a half in, I’d say I’m about 20% better. I’m hoping for more as time goes on. This is not a quick fix sort of medication. But I have some hope for further improvement, which is nice.

I’m also switching to a new gastroenterologist – I see the new one next week for the first time and I’m super excited about it. The one I’ve been seeing has been better than any I’ve seen in the past, but also kind of terrible in some ways. I’m hoping for more proactive care. I already have a fantastic rheumatologist and PCP, and it took me many, many years to find them. Having a good medical team is huge.

What’s it like being home all the time on disability? Aside from the obvious (painful and feeling tired and icky), it’s a mixed bag.

I love being home for my kids before and after school.

I love being able to snorgle cats in the middle of the day. In fact, one is resting his fuzzy head on my right thumb as I type this. It’s awkward and too damn cute to interrupt. My right arm is falling asleep.

I love that if I have the energy, I can read, I can paint if my hands are feeling good enough, and I can write. If I were working and this ill, I could not have an ounce of time free to do any of those things at all, ever. I sleep too damn much. A commute alone would consume the only non-working waking hours I would get. Disability is making it possible for me to wrest some enjoyment out of life still.

On the flip side, I loathe being unable to complete simple tasks like cleaning activities around the house. Most days even showering is hard – that requires a lot of spoons because of all the sensory input.

Yesterday, I bought some chairs off FB Marketplace for our dining room table. It was long overdue – we’ve had the most motley collection of IKEA and falling-apart garage sale chairs for a long, long time. Before that we had chairs we’d refinished that had come from an old shoe store that had belonged to my husband’s parents. We’ve never had decent chairs with our lovely table. So when I found these on Marketplace, I jumped at the chance to snap them up. But my husband was working yesterday, so I had to go get the chairs on my own. It took me the ENTIRE DAY to get car seats out of my car and get the seats folded down, get the chairs in and then out of my car, put car seats back in the car, and get the chairs in the house. Like, really?!? It was a low energy, high fatigue, and high pain day, and that task – that would take my husband 45 minutes including driving time – took me a damn day.

I never did manage to get the old chairs into the barn. Seth did that when he got home after a 12 hour shift nursing on the hospital floor.

Sometimes that stuff really gets to me.

Sometimes it really gets to me that Seth has to do more than he should have to around the house because I can’t keep up with it all.

Sometimes I feel like I’m no longer contributing to the world in ways that I once enjoyed because I’m not working.

Thank heavens I’m naturally an optimist and not a wallower, and thank the gods above I have a terrific psychiatrist who helps keep depression and anxiety at bay. I can see how those things could easily run the zoo.

With regard to fostering, my health is one of the many reasons we are retiring. I’m ashamed to admit I am eagerly looking forward to Sunny going home so that the stress levels in my house can go down. Stress makes inflammation worse. I’ll write more about that stress soon. Just suffice it to say, spending spring break with her family made us all certain that Sunny being with her family is the right choice, and that waiting for the time for that to happen is torturous for all of us.

I desperately miss the 2 and 3 year olds. Will we ever foster again? Maybe I would but I don’t think Seth ever will. The agency bull$hit has been too much for him, for good. It probably should be for me too. But like I said above, optimist here. I’d have to get healthier before I could handle any other kids anyway, so I think it’s probably for the best that Seth is completely burned out for good.

I try my damndest to be proactive about doctors and medications and sleep and exercise and diet – all the things I’m supposed to do. I fail at a lot of things because my health gets in the way. But I just keep plugging along because that’s how I am.

And for now anyway, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of my family of 3 (plus cats).

Solo Kid Contemplations

It’s spring break week in my house. That means Sunny is off staying with her relative 130+ miles away, and Sprout has her parents to herself.

So far it’s been nothing short of joyous.

Sunday, my husband and I took Sprout to a little city about an hour away. It’s got a great kids’ science museum, and Sprout romped her way through it, soaking up the attention of both parents.

Yesterday Sprout woke up not feeling great, and I even cancelled her violin lesson, but she rallied late morning and wanted to go somewhere. My husband was working, but I took her to a nearby wildlife refuge. I bought myself a new pair of binoculars and gave Sprout my old pair, which are decent but inexpensive. We drove slowly through the refuge, windows down, sun shining off the water, little puffy white clouds in the sky. We spotted great blue herons and egrets, northern shovelers and ring neck ducks, mallards and Canada geese, and zillions of purple martins. It was a delicious day, and several times Sprout exclaimed “Mommy, this is the best day EVER!”

Mind you, by the end of our trip yesterday I was exhausted. Two busy days back-to-back is too much for me in a lot of ways, even though we’d just been driving around on Monday. So by the time we got home I crashed and crawled into bed for a nap instead of cleaning. My house is still looking like a hurricane ripped through it. Oh well. Fun was had!

At first when we dropped off Sunny on Saturday, Sprout complained that she missed her sister sooooo much. She repeated the phrase numerous times. She tried to get some tears going about missing her on Saturday night, but none actually fell. She mentioned missing her sister once or twice on Sunday. She didn’t say it at all yesterday.

I’m finding myself with infinite patience and good humor for Sprout. I have felt relaxed and even-keeled in Sunny’s absence, and I have way more energy for fun activities with just Sprout. I found myself this morning having a spontaneous dance party with Sprout as she helped me put away dishes. Everything is more fun right now.

There has been no doubt in my mind for quite a while that poor Sunny’s behaviors are stressing me out. Non-stop lying, constant intentional rule breaking and bending and testing, and lots of button pushing are getting to me. I know Sunny just wants to be home with her family and that’s a lot of what’s going on for her. I also know that she learned some survival skills in her first 8 1/2 years that served her well then, but don’t necessarily do so now.

Is it even possible being without her sister will be healthier for Sprout? There’s no clear answer and never will be. There’s a massive downside to not living with any biological relatives. That fact is backed by science. But Sprout’s behavior is better by far without Sunny instigating her to break rules, and without question, Sprout gets her best Mom when Sunny isn’t here stressing me out and frustrating me.

When Seth looked back as he was leaving after dropping Sunny off on Saturday, Sunny was curled up on the couch, dozing snuggled with her big sister who is recovering from a big surgery. Sunny was perfectly, infinitely content and happy.

If I needed further reassurance that our decision to suggest that Sunny go home to her relative was the right call, I’ve got it. I think it’s right for both kids. Or more right than the alternative, anyway.

Heartache

I just got a call from the agency that I deeply appreciate having gotten.

Years ago we told our homefinder (basically our case worker) that if ever a child we’ve fostered comes back into foster care, we want to be called first.

It’s happened twice now. The first time I got a call it was for the Happiest Baby Who Ever Lived. She’d only been with us for a week initially before going to a relative, which relative later suddenly decided she didn’t want the baby anymore and called the agency to find another home for the child That Day. It all blows my mind because she was the easiest baby conceivable. But anyway, I said yes to the child coming back to us, but the agency was able to send her back to her parents a little early instead, since they were on track to get her back within the next 2 months anyway. That worked out well.

Today when I got the call for a child we’ve fostered coming back into care, it is very different. My stomach is clenched. I feel nauseated and sweaty and light headed. And though we said no to the little boy coming back to us, it’s a decision that will haunt me.

Gronckle was our second long-term foster placement. He came to us when he was just 7 months old. He lived with us with Kiddo, and the two of them got along like a house afire. He was all little boy energy, raucous and rowdy and rambunctious. By the time Gronckle was a year old, 5-year-old Kiddo was matching his energy, and the two wrestled and giggled and accidentally broke lamps and furniture and kept me hopping.

When Gronckle came to us from another foster home at 7 months of age, we were told he was on an adoption track, meaning no suitable relative had been found and his Mama wasn’t going to get him back. We lived for about 7 months believing we were adopting Gronckle.

Then because it’s foster care and anything can happen, the father was identified, against all odds. He wasn’t an option to take custody because he was incarcerated until after the child turned 18, but he had a relative who was put forward as someone to take Gronckle.

Normally we support reunifications regardless of the cost to us, and we started out doing so in this case. But then we met the relative and her relatives and saw the cockroach infested house, the dog feces and urine around the entire house where kids were walking barefoot. We saw suspicious activity going on, and the people who were coming in and out of the house at all hours. And we knew we couldn’t let this reunification happen without a fight.

Let me back up to say the child had the World’s Worst Case Worker. Legit he was horrifically bad. He was aggressive with us from the start because we had made complaints to the agency about one of Kiddo’s former case workers who was a friend of his. During his first visit to our house, the man stood in my kitchen and gave me a dressing down, which amounted to his telling us we were wrong to complain about the other case worker and it was unprofessional and inappropriate for us to have done so (we had wicked good reason for the complaints – but that’s for another blog post).

After the unprovoked confrontation and after catching him in numerous lies intended to keep us from attending court hearings on the case, we asked to have another case worker assigned. The agency higher up we spoke with asked us to come in and meet with her about it. But when we got there we found we were ambushed – she had the bad case worker in the room and he was prepared to lie his way out of every accusation. They refused to switch case workers and we were told we were becoming “problematic foster parents.” Oy. Happy memories.

Anyway, we hated the dude. He was rude every time we saw him, and since he held a grudge against us, we felt he was seeking relatives in part to spite us. He was also, it turns out (and this is based off the word of someone we trust immensely who shall remain anonymous) trying to avoid Termination of Parental Rights paperwork because despite being with the agency for years, he’d always managed to avoid the difficult task.

So my husband and I talked with Gronckle’s attorney, who agreed with us wholeheartedly. He fought the return with everything he had. But based on the word of the agency’s very worst caseworker, the court deemed the relative’s home “appropriate” and sent Gronckle to go live with his relative without even planning for a transition for the then 16-month-old child who was firmly bonded to us and who had never met this relative.

I’ve wondered and worried about the child ever since.

When I got the call today about his coming back into foster care, it felt like the wind was knocked out of me. I was not an ounce surprised. I knew the situation he was going back to was bad. But this is the worst case scenario. It takes A LOT for the agency and court to remove kids.

Gronckle now has 4 littler siblings. And they’re all coming into care late in the day. They need somewhere to go. But my house???

My husband and I are winding down our fostering journey. We have adopted 5-year-old Sprout, and her 10-year-old sister Sunny is now officially going home at the end of the school year. Both kids are struggling with this transition, especially Sprout. They both deserve a smooth transition and do not need the introduction of a highly traumatized 7-year-old to the household. Gronckle will have seen and experienced a great deal by now. He was always a kid with major destructive energy, and he always had a massive temper. I can’t imagine he’s had help learning how to cope with either thing productively.

Part of my saying no is wanting to have peaceful loving time with Sprout with no other kids around after her sister goes home. Part of it is wanting to protect her from who-knows-what trauma behaviors that Gronckle may have. Part of it is knowing my own health limitations, which are considerable. Part of it is wanting Sprout and Sunny to be able to grieve and celebrate the new upcoming transition in a healthy way. Part of it is having no bedroom to put Gronckle in. There are so many good reasons for saying no. Gronckle doesn’t remember us, so it’s not like he’s wanting to be here in particular.

I admit though, that if the call had been for Mouse instead of Gronckle I would have said yes on the spot. And that knowledge leaves me feeling unsettled. Mouse was a baby and toddler who was with us longer and more recently than Gronckle, though it’s still been a long time. But honestly? Some kids just tug stronger on our hearts than others and that is an unpleasant knowledge. They’re all equally deserving.

Say a prayer or send good vibes to my Gronckle, readers. He deserves good things and a good foster home and permanency. I’ll be losing sleep thinking about him and sending my own good energy vibes to him across the city.

Time on Hold

We’re all on the struggle bus right now.

For one thing, we are waiting for good weather eagerly, and being thwarted. So far NY has offered us an earthquake and an eclipse for April, and today there’s a bit of sun, but we are all feeling cooped up and are wanting SUN and WARMTH enough to garden and play outside. This time of year always makes me antsy.

For another, the grownups are waiting for court. We want confirmation that the plan the agency, Sunny’s attorney, Sunny’s relative, Sunny’s Mom, Sunny, and my husband and I have concocted will be approved by the judge: having Sunny go home to her relative for spring break week, and having her go home to the relative for good at the end of the school year. We know it’s likely to be approved since everrrrybody else is on board. The attorney and my husband and I have a lot of power here, and since we are in agreement, the odds of it being denied are slim. But that final say is going to make everyone less antsy.

The kids are struggling too, each in their own way. The both know Sunny is likely to go home at the end of the school year. Normally we wouldn’t tell kids until the court said it was final, but word slipped at a visit, so we explained it all, including that the judge still has the final say.

Sunny wants to go home now. Like, yesterday. But she also is processing the facts of this change. She’s not going to be able to take all her stuff with her. Her relative has a tiny apartment filled with lots and lots of people. It would be impossible for Sunny to take all her clothing and all her stuffies and all her toys. There is literally not enough space for it all. So she has to go through things and decide what she loves most and that’s hard for a kid who hasn’t had much and suddenly found herself having a lot more. Sunny is also processing that she won’t be here for Halloween or Christmas, which aren’t celebrated by her Muslim family. (We got special permission from her Mom for Sunny to celebrate Halloween and Christmas with us). She’s just struggling to wrap her head around what it’s going to be like to be home, and what she’ll be missing out on by going home.

As a result of all this impending change, Sunny has been a bit volatile. Some days she’s happy about it all and cheerful. But more often she’s annoyed that she has to wait to go home. She’s rebelling against these two grownups who aren’t going to be her grownups much longer. She’s also hormonal. And she’s a kid who has experienced a lot of trauma and who doesn’t have a great vocabulary for expressing what she’s feeling. All-in-all, she’s been pretty hard to parent.

Sprout is doing better, mostly because she’s a more stable kid overall. She was removed from the trauma of her home situation (the removal itself being trauma) at a much younger age and has been adjusting to life here with us longer. She does, however, frequently say that she doesn’t want Sunny to go home. We got her set up with a therapist because we feel like she’s going to need one through this transition. We’ve kept dialogue about it all open so she can talk freely about her feelings. But there isn’t much else we can really do – she just has to go through it. I hate seeing her sad.

Seth and I are struggling to parent Sunny through this transition. I totally understand wanting to wait till the end of the school year before sending her home. She has an IEP and it would be challenging to get it implemented at a big city school district for just the last couple months of school. But holy Hannah, Sunny is hard to parent right now. She’s struggling and it comes out as defiance fairly often and while I don’t blame her, I don’t necessarily want to go through more than 2 1/2 more months of this.

Waiting is hard.

Transitions are hard.

Waiting for a big transition feels a little like torture.

The Power a Good Foster Parent Has

This week I shot an email to Sunny’s attorney and asked her to give me a call when she got the chance. She did so promptly, and I told her in no uncertain terms that Sunny is struggling emotionally here more and more as time passes, and that both her therapist and I think it’s time for her to go home where she so desperately wants to be. I suggested perhaps a return after the end of this school year would make sense.

The attorney – with whom we’ve worked for years now and for whom we have a lot of respect – asked about the older sister’s status and I explained how she’s doing medically. Then the attorney simply said “Okay. I’ll give the [agency] attorney a call about sending [Sunny] home to her [relative].”

Two days later the attorney called me back and said she’d talked with the agency’s attorney and case worker and they were on board with a return at the end of the school year. And she said she hopes that brings this poor kid some peace – just knowing she’ll be going home at a date certain.

As I was about to hang up, the attorney said, “I just want to tell you that you are the best foster parents there are. I wish they were all like you. Your advocacy for these kids has been exemplary and never ending and I appreciate it. Just let us know when you want another placement!”

I teared up, because god knows it’s been hard to decide what to do and how to advocate for the kids in this family. The agency has been incredibly hard to deal with at times in the nearly 4 years this family has had kids placed with us. Don’t get me wrong: we’ve had some incredibly wonderful case workers over that time – women I came to care about a great deal because of how they cared for the kids. We’ve also had some spectacularly bad case workers in that time. And agency higher ups who dislike us are always miserable for us to deal with.

I can’t tell if the current worker is just overwhelmed by the demands of the job, clueless, or uncaring. I suspect the former. But sometimes it comes across as one of the latter two and that just infuriates me because every single kid in foster care deserves to be treated with respect and care, and to have their best interests pushed for. Period. That hasn’t always happened for this family.

I mean, as a dumb but scary example, at the last visit the case worker took Sunny on she didn’t read the case file notes that Sunny requires a booster seat because of her dwarfism, and just plunked her in the back seat and put the seatbelt cross strap behind Sunny’s back. If they’d been in an accident on that snowy day, Sunny would very likely have been killed. I think my eyeballs nearly popped out of my head and I swallowed my tongue when Sunny told me it had happened. What would cause a case worker to be so careless about a child’s basic safety? Gah! You can bet I’ll be buckling Sunny into the car on her next visit myself!

Anyway, the upshot of all this is that Sunny is very likely going home at the end of the school year. The attorney had been pushing hard for her to stay with us permanently because from her perspective that was what was in Sunny’s best interest, and I get why. She gets the best medical care here, and the best education here. But all I had to do was say I felt going home was in her best interest and within a couple of days, that became the plan. Why? Because the attorney trusts me implicitly about all this because she’s seen what we are willing to do and put on the line in our advocacy for kids. She knew if I was saying Sunny needs to go home, there’s damn good reason for my saying it and that I’ve weighed the pros and cons thoroughly and made a measured decision.

We still have to get the judge on board at the Permanency Hearing coming up in April, but I don’t think it will be an issue. The judge, too, trusts me. She’s seen me advocate in her courtroom on this case and on others. If I explain that Sunny’s therapist and I both feel strongly that she needs to be with the rest of her family for good, that’s what will happen.

Speaking of Sunny’s therapist, we had a long talk about how Sunny is doing the other day. It was super productive and helpful and will shape her therapeutic treatment plan for the rest of the time Sunny is here. When Seth and I explained some of the behaviors that we are seeing suddenly appear, and others that are escalating, the therapist noted they sound like Reactive Attachment Disorder. Sunny is constantly testing how far she can push us and still be loved. It’s exhausting beyond words. Somehow hearing the therapist say that was an “a ha!” moment for me. It is like she’s developing RAD. And RAD has got to be one of the hardest disorders to parent, I swear.

So I’m not crazy in thinking this child is difficult to parent. I’m not crazy thinking this child is seriously struggling here. And I’m not crazy in thinking she needs to go home because her emotional well-being is more important than having the very best doctor or the very best school district. Emotional well-being underlies everything else. It’s the foundation. And if this young girl is never going to be okay not being with her family, then she needs to be with her family. Period.

I feel like I can breathe better these past two days, knowing we have a plan for her return home to her relative and her other three siblings. She’ll be with aunts and uncles and siblings daily, speaking Burmese, eating Burmese food, and living in her culture. She’ll just plain be home.

I am worried, of course, about Sprout and how she’s going to do without her sister here. Sigh. There’s never a good answer in foster care. It’s probably time to get Sprout on a wait list for a therapist so she’s got extra support when her sister leaves. But Sprout has a great support system here and is where she feels she belongs, and she’s a strong resilient kid. I think she’ll be okay.

And with luck, so will Sunny.

Struggling to Parent Sunny

I’ve written before about how Sunny is a difficult kid to parent. I’m not sure I’ve really emphasized that enough, though.

Folks, I’m struggling with parenting her fairly.

Sunny has learned, through no fault of her own, to be manipulative and pushy. Those were attributes that got her needs met when she was home with her Mama for 8 years.

She CAN be a super sweet kid. Briefly. At times. But more often than not she is a challenge for me.

One way she challenges me? Asking for things in ways that trigger me. For example, instead of asking “Mom, could I get piano lessons?” She says in a sulky voice: “How come you haven’t gotten me lessons so I can learn to play this thing?” Instead of saying “Mom, [Sprout] needs her nails cut, she’ll say “Why haven’t you cut [Sprout’s] claws yet?”

When I say this is how she phrases every question, I am not exaggerating one little iota. It’s always accusatory. Every time. And it pushes my buttons.

She’s also got a habit of dropping her garbage on my floors. Bits of play doh, straw wrappers (I had to ban juice boxes from my house), candy wrappers that she didn’t get permission to eat but magically found somehow, tiny scraps of paper that she’s cut up (I had to hide all the kids’ scissors), her probiotic bottles (she took to stuffing those into the couch rather than dropping them on the floor). It’s a habit she developed at home I think because her Mom picked up everything for her? I’m not really sure why the habit developed but having been to their old apartment buildings I know the ground outside the house and the stairwell inside were covered in litter, though inside the apartment itself was picked up.

Let me tell you, the garbage on the floor thing is slowly driving me ‘round the twist. We always make her pick it up herself, which she complains about and does as slowly as humanly possible. We’ve tried taking away privileges, assigning chores, and I’ve even resorted to yelling a couple of times when I just plain lost my cool about it. Nothing works. She doesn’t respect her space, or my space, enough to keep garbage off the surfaces. Or else she thinks it’s someone else’s job to clean up after her. Or else… I don’t know what else, it’s just exasperating in the extreme to come into a room that’s been coated liberally in trash by Sunny.

Sunny also is extremely manipulative with her little sister Sprout. The phrases “Do it or I won’t play with you any more,” and “Do you want me to tell Mom you did x? [Do what I want you to] or I will!” are uttered over and over again to get Sprout to play the way Sunny wants her to, and to get Sprout to be Sunny’s little servant, fetching things for her and picking up after her. I intervene when I hear the utterances, but I know I miss a ton of them.

Those are just a few examples of what frustrate me. There are more but you get the gist.

I have a hard time not feeling perpetual frustration with Sunny from all those little things that add up. And what happens is that I feel like I’m unfair to her. I don’t feel generous toward her and say “no” to her way too often. I know I should be creating opportunities to say yes to appropriate requests. I should also be building Sunny up as best I can. I should be having her rephrase things politely and then saying yes when it’s appropriate.

But sheesh. I am human, after all. And it all gets to me and makes me just want to say no to every single demand/request she utters. And it makes me want to YELL because of built up frustration.

Sunny doesn’t get spontaneous affection out of me the way Sprout does. Sprout is such a good kid. She’s genuinely affectionate and loving. When Sunny demands “I want a hug,” my visceral response is often that I don’t want to hug her because of built up frustrations over the course of the day, the week, the year. I try to make myself give her hugs but suck at doing it spontaneously.

I’m in therapy, and have an amazeballs therapist. We talk a lot about parenting Sunny. I’m also listening to podcasts on parenting difficult kids. I’ve read a lot of great parenting books over the years. But I cannot seem to break out of this current funk I have regarding parenting Sunny. Every time I make progress she utters a particularly egregious statement and I feel set back. Sunny is also in therapy and gives her therapist a great deal of shit too.

I understand a lot of how she got to where she is. I have seen how her Mama functions (or sometimes doesn’t). I’ve seen how her siblings interact. I get that Sunny developed habits to get her needs met and 8 years of fundamental development doesn’t disappear overnight. But despite knowing all that, my compassion fatigue is real right now, especially after a week off school when Sunny and I have been together 24/7 for eight days now.

Because I’m a foster parent to Sunny and because her status with us is in constant limbo, both my husband and I have found ourselves wishing the court and agency would finally do what has been threatened for ages, and send her to live with the relative who is caring for her brothers and sister. It is, after all, what Sunny wants to have happen. Is it what’s best for Sunny? Lord knows. There is no “best” answer for her. She’s getting a better education here in our tiny district that is pouring all the services it can into her than she would in a big impoverished city district where her relative lives. She’s getting the best medical care available in the world while she’s with us. She’s got more material things here than she’d have there, but I’m not convinced that matters. She’d have stricter discipline there – her relative takes no prisoners – and that might actually be better for her. My gentler parenting ain’t getting us anywhere.

At this point I’m fairly convinced that sending her to her relative is what’s best for her. I think frustration about her situation is not helping with any of her behaviors. She wants to be home with her siblings and relatives. Period. And I can’t say as I blame her.

What would the fallout be here if she goes home? It would, frankly, at this point be a lot of relief for my husband and me. Less stress, more energy to devote to Sprout and Kiddo. Sooo much less daily frustration.

But Sprout? Oh my god. She’d be devastated to lose her sister. They play together and giggle together a great deal, and I hate to think of Sprout growing up without any siblings in her life except for monthly or every other monthly visits to see her family.

Gah. There is no good solution here. I am still leaning toward Sunny going home as being what’s best but it’s a close call. It’s what’s best for me, but my needs are hardly what matter. It’s the kids’ needs that are so important.

Foster parenting kids who have experienced trauma and grown up in dysfunctional families is not for the faint of heart. And foster parent compassion fatigue is a real thing. I know, because I’m awash in it. Awash in compassion fatigue, and rude demands and bossiness and litter on my floors and counters and tables and couches…

Food Insecurity Fallout

Sunny has taken to complaining that we have too much food in the house. It’s making me think about childhood food insecurity and how much it messes with people.

Sunny grew up food insecure for her first 8 years. Her pantry was always absolutely bare except for bulk bags of rice. Everything else was purchased as needed and cooked and eaten right away. She did get some nutritious ethnic Burmese meals, but also, like most folks living in poverty, had a lot of nutrient-poor food because it was what was cheap and available at the corner stores near her Mama’s constantly changing apartments.

When she came to us, she instantly started hoarding food. I found food stuffed in pillow cases in her room, between her bed and the wall, and under her mattress. Sometimes when kids hoard food I’ve had to put baskets of wrapped snacks in their rooms so it’s less sticky and inviting to ants. But with Sunny I never had to do that. I just had to explain to her that the pantry was open to her and there was a kid-height shelf of snacks she could eat any time, and that the fruit on the counter or in the fridge was always always fair game. That was enough reassurance to stop her food hoarding. She still occasionally hoards candy in play backpacks, but I think that’s mostly just ordinary kid behavior – she’s trying to stash candy so she can sneak some when I’m not looking. Meh, not a big deal to me.

We are struggling mightily with her eating still. She eats and eats and eats. She’ll eat a snack and instantly want dinner right afterward, then want another snack again right after that. With her hip dysplasia and congenital knee deformations, her weight matters a great deal when it comes to her mobility and pain levels.

I’m fighting a terrible battle. I want her to lose weight for her joints and pain levels as recommended by her dwarfism-specialist orthopedic surgeon, but I don’t want to give her a complex about her weight. We live in a weight-conscious nightmare of a society when it comes to girls especially, and the last thing this kid needs is self-consciousness about her weight. She’s already terribly self conscious about her height. I want her to be able to eat when she’s hungry because a) that’s healthy, and b) we are still fighting the after-effects of food insecurity and hunger is a trauma trigger for her. But I don’t want her to overeat, which is absolutely her inclination.

I relate to her so hard. I am on weight loss medication because I overeat too. I overeat when I’m anxious or bored, and I see the exact same pattern in her.

All I can do is encourage healthier options for snacks, and limit sugary drinks and candy. I can cook healthy meals rather than letting her eat junk food, but the amount of cooking I can do at any time varies depending on my own health. If I’m unwell, I resort to quick easy air fryer options like chicken nuggets and French fries. Sigh. Less than ideal but it’s sometimes all fatigue levels will let me manage.

Back to complaining about too much food in the house, is she feeling too tempted to eat when there’s a lot of food? Is she feeling bad for folks who don’t have food and wishing we’d donate more of what we have? I really don’t know. I do donate a bunch to our local food pantry and some to our church’s outreach program that distributes food to those in need. I also donate to individuals who are in need of food pretty often, through a local Facebook site that helps those in need. Maybe I need to make Sunny aware of how much we give. Or maybe I need to make some foods inaccessible to her so she isn’t tempted. I don’t know. It’s a conundrum, and I think perhaps her therapist needs to get involved in her food dependence generally.

Note to self: text Sunny’s therapist.

Sunny isn’t the only food insecure kid we’ve had. Not by a long shot.

Food insecurity is also what landed Sprout with us. The poor kid was less than 2 years old and was still being breast fed, but Mom wasn’t producing enough or supplementing it enough with other foods. She came to us with failure to thrive so severe she was anorexic, which can happen in babies who aren’t getting the nutrients and calories they need. She just had stopped eating, stopped wanting to live. My husband and I were astute enough and stubborn enough to get her eating tiny sips of pediasure by injecting it into her mouth with a medicine syringe every 20-30 minutes around the clock, and thus managed to avoid a feeding tube and hospitalization. But those first few days with a listless baby who didn’t want to eat or drink or interact were heartbreaking and terrifying. She turned the corner and never looked back, and now eats a healthy amount and variety of foods for her size, but man were the early days hard and scary.

The 2-year-old twins we had were food insecure too. They gained about 2 lbs each in the first week they were with us. They ate us out of house and home. Their eating and weight stabilized just fine, but they went from super skinny, to properly chunky toddlers in just a couple of weeks. It was incredible to watch and heartbreaking to think of the family’s food struggles.

Food insecurity alone can lead to removal of kids from families. If CPS gets a call about hungry kids and the pantries and fridge are bare and the parents can’t get food in fast enough, kids – especially children of color – can get removed from their parents very quickly. It’s why we give to our Food Bank. It’s why my Facebook birthday fundraiser was for its benefit. It’s why we give to the outreach program at our church and support it in a variety of energy-consuming ways. It’s why I always participate in the post office food pantry drive, and the kids’ schools’ food pantry drives. It’s why I sometimes provide food for folks in need through the Facebook site set up for that purpose. Hunger sucks. It should not happen to people. And worse, the consequences of food insecurity can be life long, through child removal and eating disorders.

If you have a few bucks to spare, you can help with hunger and food insecurity in the area where my former foster kids and future foster kids live here. ❤️

Dealing with Uncertainty

Foster care is nothing if not filled with uncertainty.

We have 10-year-old Sunny with us still. She’s been here 519 days counting today.

She says she still wants to go home, but my suspicion is that she would have a very hard time transitioning back to her old style of family life. Her family is very, very loving – never doubt that. But they live with very little because of both poverty and culture. I haven’t been to her relative’s house where she would likely go if she left, but I have been to her Mom’s and Auntie’s apartments and they are very spare. They have almost no furniture, just a few rugs for sitting and eating on, and a single small couch at her Auntie’s. I haven’t been in the bedrooms but know that her Mom’s house used to have bed rolls rather than beds for the family. They have very little clothing, though it is often peppered with a brand name t-shirt or nice Nike sneakers. But the number of articles of clothing is small, and reworn often. And those nice Nikes get worn every single day.

Sunny is now used to being a bit spoiled. She has a fully furnished house with wifi, an iPad to call her own, and a television in the play room. She has Disney+, Netflix, and Prime video (all with age appropriate limits in place). She has 3 pairs of Nikes and a pair of nice winter boots and a pair of Hey Dudes that she lives in. She’s got a big bureau that is absolutely full of stylish and name brand clothing, carefully tailored to fit her with her dwarfism. She goes to school and comes home to play time on her iPad, with her voluminous art and craft supplies, with her Reborn Baby, with Lite Brite, with bow and arrows, etc. She has toys GALORE. She doesn’t have Arabic School after regular school every day. She has her own carpeted bedroom fully furnished with bed and dresser and a lovely little desk. She’s used to space, alone time when she wants it, and stuff.

She is also extremely attached to her little sister Sprout. It used to be that the two of them butted heads and fought nonstop. Both wanted to be top dog in the relationship, and despite Sunny’s 5 years on her, Sprout was having none of that. But over time and with lots of rules in place about conduct, they’ve learned to work out a lot of their differences. In a perfect example of “be careful what you wish for,” they drive me crazy now when they play together because they are wild. They positively shriek with laughter through tickle fights, through kitchen play, through epic sword fights, through games of mom and daughter, etc. Honestly, it’s a joy to have them get along, but I miss being able to hear myself think!

Both girls would be absolutely devastated by a separation. But would Sunny ever truly be okay if she stays here? The situation reminds me of Kiddo when she was with us. As tumultuous as her home life still is, Kiddo needed to be home with her Mom. She was never going to be okay staying with us forever. I don’t know about Sunny, but the longer she stays here, the harder a transition home would be. I also know she will likely always fantasize about being “home” without really comprehending all she’d lose if she transitioned back, with daily play with Sprout being the biggest loss.

There’s also her schooling at issue. Sunny has had one and a half years of formal education because her attendance was so poor that she learned nothing during her years before coming to us. Add to the poor attendance that she is borderline for an intellectual disability, and that her former city school districts had her in “life skills” classes because they’d written her off as ever being able to learn. In short: she didn’t know the alphabet, much less to read, when she came to us at age 8 1/2. Now she is in a stellar district giving her tons of 1:1 help, in a tiny class of only 8 kids, with push in services of PT, OT, and speech therapy every week. She’s reading a bit and loves math. She’s improved physically tremendously with the regular gym and PT work, and her pain levels are down because her muscle strength is up. And her orthopedic surgeon is down in Delaware, where her family won’t be able to take her.

Sunny now also may need a couple of knee surgeries. That’s up in the air as to whether the agency will let us proceed with those. And again, her family won’t be able to juggle those medical needs very well because of language barrier, poverty, and lack of understanding about the medical system.

The other question looming over us is regarding the girls’ big sister. We were supposed to have court on the 12th but it got cancelled and turned into a motion deadline. I don’t know if it got cancelled because the attorney for the kids is satisfied with what’s happening regarding her medical care? Or if it was turned into a motion deadline because she’s filing a motion for the big sister to come to us, like the attorney has talked about in the past? Our current case worker doesn’t like us, ignores almost all contact from me, doesn’t give us any information about what’s going on, and doesn’t even do monthly home visits during which we could ask questions. We’ve got nothing to work with.

So not only do we not know how long Sunny might stay, we don’t know whether we might have a 14-year-old sibling placed with us. 🤷🏼

The uncertainty used to just kill me. I’d be frantic with worry, and the discomfort that comes from not knowing how many or which kids might be in our home from day-to-day. I’ve gotten slowly better at the not knowing over time, and this case is curing me of impatience altogether.

It’s taken 8+ years, but uncertainty no longer throws me for a loop.

I worry about Sunny if she goes home to her relative. But I’ll work through it if it happens, help her family navigate medical issues as best I can, and get a damn good therapist for Sprout on board to help her cope with the devastating loss of her sister.

I worry if Sunny stays here she will be discontent and will flee back to her family the day she turns age 18. To be clear, it’s not the fleeing back that worries me. It’s the damage all the longing for home will cause her.

But, life goes on. And while I wonder about the future (will we have 2 1/2 kids forever like we have now? Or go to 1 1/2? Or 3 1/2 and have to buy a mini van?), it doesn’t make me feel faint with frantic anxiety like it used to.

Today, Sprout and hubby are down in Delaware with that amazing pediatric dwarfism specialist as she prepares for her own knee surgery tomorrow. I’ve got enough to focus on other than the worry. It’s just that cursed 3 am time that still gets me on occasion.

Christmas and other good things

I haven’t posted in a while so it feels like time for a general update since I am not feeling inspired with brilliant topics for posts.

We are lucky in this fostering house that we currently have a foster kid who doesn’t have a lot of trauma associated with Christmas. Being Muslim, Sunny never really celebrated Christmas before she came here.

When Sprout first came to us we asked her Mom permission to celebrate Christmas, and she was fine with it. So we just carried on when Sprout’s sister Sunny joined us too. It’s now been two Christmases here for Sunny, and both have gone well.

That hasn’t always been the case. Kiddo struggled mightily with Christmas when she was younger. She was only 4 when she came to us, but presumably had experienced some trauma around the holiday given how she reacted to it. This is super common among foster kids. New foster parents will often be super excited to give a kid a first “real” Christmas, only to be disappointed by a ton of acting out, overwhelm, disappointment, etc.

If you think about it, it makes sense. A lot of troubled families struggle with togetherness around the holiday. Folks with alcohol abuse issues find the holiday an excuse to indulge, which can spark fights. Fights can erupt over finances since Christmas is a financial strain for a lot of families. Extended families visit, which can cause disagreements. Families with little money can find themselves unable to provide gifts for children which can leave kids disappointed and feeling like they’ve done something bad if Santa didn’t come for them. There are lots and lots of ways Christmas can go badly awry.

Memories of those traumatic events can trigger behaviors in kids – outbursts, teariness, withdrawal – any kind of response to a traumatic memory you can think of.

Kiddo used to get soooo excited to open her gifts. Then she’d get overwhelmed quickly afterward, and be a bundle of oversensitive nerves the rest of the day. It would be super easy to trip her into what looked like a tantrum, but was likely flashback triggered. Christmas did not used to be fun for our first few years as foster parents!

Thankfully, Kiddo has had more good Christmases than bad in her life now. She’s a joy to shop for because she’s appreciative and fun about her gifts. She just opened her presents yesterday and I enjoyed the hell out of it. She loved the Tommy Hilfiger clothing (hell, the kid has a whole Hilfiger wardrobe from me at this point), the tiny Tabasco sauce keychain, the baby doll with hair like hers that she can practice on, the scented hair edge tamers, the fold up soccer goal, the squishmallow, and the shark slides tremendously.

Shark slides, in case you were wondering what on earth they were, as I was when she first told me she wanted “shark slides” for Christmas.

Christmas with Sunny and Sprout went remarkably well too. I was worried there’d be tons of jealously but it worked out ok. We celebrated it on Christmas Eve because my husband had to work Christmas Day, and thank heavens for that because I could not take another question of “is it Christmas yet???” Ha!

The girls got dolls (Reborn for Sunny, and American Girl for Sprout – one that looks a bit like her because she’s Indian), lots of accessories for their dolls, stuffies, the new Disney movie Wish toys (we went to see it just before Christmas and they’re addicted to the soundtrack), jump ropes, yo-yos, fake poop toys (they might have been the biggest hit 🙄), a magnetic dart board for Sunny, arts and crafts kits, a magic potion making kit for Sprout, and a kids’ microscope for Sprout. Did I over buy? Probably. But they enjoyed the hell out of it so that’s good.

On Christmas Eve we also went to church, and the girls were angels in the Christmas pageant. I love the Christmas pageant and the candlelight singing of Silent Night at the end. My family loves it less. But I insist on going each year because it doesn’t seem like Christmas without it.

Silent Night

On Christmas Day, I took the girls to see Migration in the theater, which was cute. It was a great way to stave off the boredom that comes after Christmas gift opening is over, and seeing a movie on Christmas just might become a new family tradition. The weather that day was spectacular – 55° and sunny – so we spent the rest of the day playing outside without coats.

A decidedly non-white Christmas

After it was all over, it took me DAYS to find homes for all the new toys, put away the boxes and gift bags, dispose of all the cardboard, and ultimately yesterday we took down Christmas decor and put it away in the attic. Why so early? Because tomorrow is Sunny’s 10th birthday, and I wanted to make the house totally birthday rather than a mix of birthday and Christmas. As a Christmas baby myself (December 21st), I know the pain of a childhood of birthdays mixed with Christmas, so wanted to avoid that for Sunny.

Mind you, in her culture birthdays aren’t celebrated, so this is only the 2nd birthday she’ll ever celebrate. We wanted to be sure she got one great birthday with a party for friends, and this year is it, in case she goes home to her relative before we get another chance. Last year we went out to dinner at her request and got birthday dessert there, so she’s never had a birthday cake with her name on it, so I ordered one for the party. The house will be decorated with balloons (we even have helium) and banners, she’ll open her gifts here (a cake pop maker and a fancy apron), then she’ll go to our local salon for a girly salon birthday party. The favor bags are full of salon girly fun (lip gloss, sun glasses, nail stickers, glow in the dark tattoos). Two of her best buds from school are coming to it, so it should be a fun time.

Anyway, that’s our news! We still haven’t had our Christmas OR Thanksgiving dinners with my Dad, because he was sick for Thanksgiving, and Sprout was sick for Christmas with a nasty cold that’s lingering. I suspect it may even be RSV given the cough she’s got. So we have plans on the 14th of January, which, absurdly, is the next afternoon we can all get together given my schedule, the girls’ schedules, and Seth’s work schedule. Yikes. I guess we should enjoy this weird between-Christmas-and-New-Years down time while we’ve got it!

Acting up in public

Last weekend my husband was working, but I fearlessly plowed ahead and took Sunny and Sprout to the Finger Lakes Chapter of Little People of America’s holiday party.

Let me start this by praising this organization. I’ve written about them before regarding a baseball game we took the girls to during the summer. Being surrounded by a crowd that includes a lot of little people, including kids, is so crucial for my two kids who are themselves little people. I watched Sunny’s confidence grow in that setting, and as she utilizes the step stool they’d thoughtfully put in the restrooms, she proudly observed, “even grownups sometimes have to use a step stool.” Normalizing size differences is just huge for a kid with dwarfism!

Mind you, I also discovered she’s squeamish about the word “dwarfism,” and that’s something my husband and I need to work on, clearly. Sunny said at one point “I’m taller than some of the grownups here!” And I said “Yep! That’s partly because there are different forms of dwarfism.” She flashed embarrassment at me and hissed, “Don’t say that word!” I replied, “What, ‘dwarfism’? There’s nothing wrong with that word!” She angrily replied, “Yes! THAT word.”

So we still clearly have a long way to go to achieve acceptance and comfort with her condition.

Anywho, the party was lovely. They did a nice job for the kids especially. The food was kid friendly (chicken strips were among the other amazing Italian options), they had gift bags for each kid, and kid-friendly gift cards as prizes for Bingo (though Sprout chose a Starbucks card over a Build-a-Bear card, to the amusement of all), and crafts. They even had the Benedict Cumberbatch version of the Grinch playing in one of the rooms.

Sunny chose that day to be, erm, challenging. This is not an infrequent occurrence. When she gets anxious, she gets obnoxious. It happens at doctor appointments, with big changes in her schedule, and at public events. It sometimes happens with her therapist when she knows she needs to tell her therapist something big that’s going on for her. It’s her default when her anxiety is up.

I can speculate as to why it happens. For the first eight years of her life, Sunny relied on attitude, pushiness, loudness, and sulking to get her needs met in a chaotic household with a Mama who was often distracted by other things and struggling to navigate our society. To a large degree she was raised by her big sister, who being only a few years older, and not having a good parenting role model, just caved to Sunny’s behavior. So, when Sunny’s anxiety goes up, she reverts back to her old behaviors that got her needs met through her early life.

But attitude, pushiness, loudness, and sulking are a challenge to deal with at all, much less in a public setting.

She knows it, too, and sometimes I swear pulls out the ‘tude in public because she thinks I am less inclined to crack down on the behavior when there’s an audience. This is hardly something unique to Sunny. Lots of kids try that trick. But dang is it frustrating.

I need to do a few things. First, I need to adjust my expectations. I am an eternal optimist and always assume every event will be super fun. I need to go into kid events knowing Sunny could get anxious and act out. I need to remember that, and still take them to stuff anyway. That’s a challenge for me because I get discouraged, but I can’t stop giving the kids life experiences just because I might be embarrassed.

And on the subject of that embarrassment…

As a society, we automatically assume that every child’s misbehavior is a sign of the present parent’s incompetence at parenting. And I hate that. I hate it for the parents and for the kids. Sometimes it’s the case, sure, but a hell of a lot of other factors are at play too.

I prefer going to events with other foster kids because there the parents are more inclined to get it and be unfazed by my kid’s sauciness. “Misbehavior” is often a symptom of trauma, as is Sunny’s case. But Sunday, it was all families with bio kids in tow, and dang it, every single one of them was well behaved.

When I’d ask Sunny to do something like, for example, throwing away her plate and napkin after she ate, she gave me a quick loud response of “No.” It was automatic. It wasn’t something she was thinking about before delivering it. Sunny was just sitting there feeling uncomfortable and defiance was her default to being asked to do something. It makes sense as her Mama used to ask the kids to do almost everything for her in public because she doesn’t speak English and isn’t comfortable with our culture. Sunny resented it. I think all the kids did on some level.

Anyway, I then gave Sunny a withering look she refers to as my “evil eye,” and she loudly and stubbornly whined “I don’t want to.” The evilness of the evil eye intensified and I gave her a warning “[name], now, please,” in a low fierce voice. At that point she caved and did as I’d asked originally, but her volume was loud enough that the whole table heard the dispute before she finally got up and threw away her plate. We got surreptitious looks, or else I imagined them. Either is possible.

The folks there don’t know Sunny is in foster care. I assume they think she’s adopted since she doesn’t exactly resemble Seth and me? I find people don’t assume foster care for Sunny and Sprout because they’re Asian. When we get asked questions about our family the standard question is “are they adopted?”Please note the uncomfortable fact that when we had Black kids, folks would ask if they were in foster care all the time. That’s a topic for a whole other blog post!

Anyway, much of our day was tense exchanges between Sunny and me, or her asking for impossible things that she knew were impossible just so she could sulk when I said “no.” She whined through Bingo. She sassed back at every opportunity. She pretended she was about to swear loudly by starting to say the word but petering out while looking at me for my reaction. It was just A DAY.

When we got back to the car we discussed her behavior. I told her I got that she was anxious in there, which she admitted, but that her behavior was, on the whole, unacceptable. She didn’t get her iPad on the way home or music. The hour ride was passed in cranky silence, peppered by cheery random observations from Sprout, followed by sour snaps from Sunny.

It was an invaluable experience because being with little people is crucial for the kids. But it wasn’t a fun day.

As is so often the case, I’ll work with my own therapist and Sunny’s to see if there are better ways for me to respond to her behavior when she’s acting out because her anxiety is up. I could always do better. I’ll work with my therapist, too, on the mortification I feel when Sunny acts out publicly because I feel a lot of folks are giving me shade because of it, thinking I’m just a shitty parent if she acts that way.

I’ve got lots of work to do. I hate having to do it. When it comes to Sunny’s behavior generally, I’m just tired. I even have found myself wishing she would get sent to live with her relative (which the county and the lawyers and the judge are considering) just so the daily grind of coping with her attitude would relent. But that’s not likely to happen soon, isn’t fair to anyone, and won’t be the basis for any decision-making regarding her future.

I guess I’m just human, and sometimes want a breather. When raising a challenging kid, breathers usually seem gloriously unattainable.