foster parent wish list

I don't know where the line to qualify as a "veteran foster parent" is, but I'm sure I'm not there.  Still, I've read a bunch of these kinds of lists written by foster parent bloggers, so I'm adding my thought-socks to the laundry pile.

Here's what foster momma would like from you...

1. Listen when she talks, but don't give her suggestions unless you understand the situation. "Have you tried using apricots to help him poo?" is a great any-mom tip. "Did you tell the judge that he's constipated?" is probably the place where you've enter an area you know nothing about.  So, just listen if she complain and tell her you're praying for God to be glorified in the situation.

2. Ask her what's going on without offering commentary on what you think is best.  "Did the judge say you can keep him yet?" isn't exactly hiding what you think.  Try, "How are things going?" or "Have you heard anything new?" She wants to know that you care, but frame it in a way that isn't smashing her instep on a Lego.

3. Please make her the "foster parents" instead of him the "foster child", "foster son", or "foster kid".  Can he just be a regular ol' kid and she'll be the weird one: the foster momma? Please label her instead of him. 

4. Don't tell her that you know what God's plan is. His plan is good. Period. What you think is good may not be his plan. Also, not using words but smugly nodding with a wink wink nudge nudge is the same thing.

5. Actually pray for her family, and if she gives you a specific request, follow up so she knows you listened and care.

6. Yes, she want meals and babysitting and laundry folders and dish-doers if her family get a new placement.  She didn't birth a baby but she does have 4,392 people in her home doing evaluations this week plus 223 doctor's appointments tomorrow and three supervised visits today. And everybody's gotta eat.

7. Don't judge his birth parents. Just don't. You don't know anything, and she's not going to tell you. Stop judging, because it wouldn't matter if a T-Rex and Cleopatra were his parents. 

8. Children have ears. Don't ask complicated or sensitive questions in front of kids: foster kid, biological kid, neighbor kid, your own kid. They are all corn; they all have ears. Wait for privacy. In the same vein, though, explain what her family does to your own kids in age-appropriate language. You may think they're too young to understand, but so are the kids she's parenting. Choose the difficult road that leads to enlightening your own family to truth.  And then work together when the awkward kid-question moments come (because they will), and that's ok. Focus on safe.  Kids can understand what "safe" feels like, and that's usually enough for the little ones.

9. Stop telling her she's a good person for doing this.  Just stop it.  You can tell her she smells good or her hair looks nice or that her words were a creative use of discipline techniques or that she is giving this child a great period of safety in his life but, for goodness sake, please stop telling her she's a good person for doing this.  You mean well, but she wants to punch you in the throat.  Seriously. Stop it.

10. Love these children.  Smile. Laugh. Hug. Play. Hold. Help. Reach. Snuggle. Love these children. Love them so much. Love them like Jesus does. 

Read more…

Maybe I’m Sarah Connor

You know how in Terminator 2, Sarah Connor knows the truth about Skynet and the future and Judgment Day and death and approaching mayhem and no one believes her?  She knows what’s coming, and she’s right.  So she fights for what she believes and is “rewarded” by losing custody of her son and being institutionalized.

Granted, this gives us one of the awesomest girl-power scenes of all time (pull-ups on the side of your bed in a State Hospital is about as tough as you can get).   But I sometimes feel for Sarah Connor as a foster parent. 

Walk with me down this long, winding comparison:

Sarah’s hands get tied because she fights too hard for someone she loves.  (Ridiculous. As if that’s possible.) She’s fighting primarily against a bunch of government employees who are overworked and underpaid and just don’t have any more energy to care.  They no longer look at each situation – at each child – and feel empowered to say, “I can make a difference here.”   

The weird part of my comparison, of course, is that I’m a foster parent and John Connor is IN foster care at this point in the movie.  Sarah Connor, his birth mom, is the one fighting the system.  But I think this further illustrates my point: the kids are the ones who so often lose in the foster care system. 

Whether you’re a birth parent fighting your past or a foster parent fighting for a child’s best future, the system is the enemy.  People assume since I’m a foster parent, that I think adoption is the obvious problem-solver.  You’re wrong; each situation is unique and when reunification can happen, it’s a beautiful thing.  I have prayed steadfastly for the birth parents of children in my home to defeat their addictions and literally held my breath, whispering, please show up, please show up, as we waited for a weekly visit.

Skynet is the foster care system.  It took over a child’s life, promising to make things better and safer, and instead everything around them is blowing up. 

Sarah Connor didn’t stop Judgment Day.  She tried, but knowing what’s coming doesn’t mean you can stop it.  For better or for worse, whatever the judge decides at court will be the future of this child. BUT…

The future's not set. There's no fate but what we make for ourselves! Despite John Connor’s rallying cry, I have good news: the future is set, it is secure.  God’s plan never fails. I don’t have to look at a child’s “judgment day” at court and fear that the wrong decision will be made, because it’s been The Plan all along.  Sarah’s best line sums it up: The unknown future rolls toward us. I face it with a sense of hope.

progress progress progress

For the first time in a few months, I'm pleased with my progress on my next novel.  I finished draft 1 a while back but haven't been able to sit down and really dig into the editing.  Then the holidays arrived, which you'd think would slow me down... but somehow, progress! Woo!

My husband has been home more, so obviously, that helps.  But I've also had less work to do (I'm a freelance marketing consultant) which is nice for a change -- more time for personal adventures.  

My kids can't tell the difference because I'm still sitting in front of the computer.  I feel like there's a correlation between an amateur race car driver who takes his souped up car to the grocery store and the library and stuff: I'm sitting in the same seat, using the same steering wheel, but for two very different reasons.

(Don't get me wrong, I love my work, but it isn't the same as writing my own stories.)

I'm up to Chapter 19 in my first editing run-through, or page 63 of 302.  Total is hovering at 92,357 words.  BUT right now I'm blogging instead of working on it more... the procrastination's sneaky this way.  I also set up another set of Facebook ads, but I need to stop wasting my money.  I'm getting plenty of clicks but no conversions.  How sad.  I've tried a lot of options, but perhaps I need to try different media.  Plus, everything I read online scares me and says most of Facebook's clicks are bots anyway = a waste of money.

Back to the grind I go...

the day the princess died

Orphan. Adoptee. Refugee. Rebel. Mother. Survivor of genocide. General.

Leia isn't awesome because she loves Han or because (**spoiler**) she's Luke's twin or because she's the mother of Kylo Ren or because of her famous hair or because she rocks a metal bikini and kills Jabba. 

Leia's awesome because Star Wars changed everything about science fiction and movie-making and the way women are heroes, too.  Ah, George Lucas.  Without Leia, would we even have Starbuck and Six, Sara Conner, Aeryn Sun, River Song, Zoe Washburne and River Tam, Janeway, Ellen freaking Ripley, I mean even Katniss?  

I listened to Don McLean singing American Pie twice on Tuesday because it was, in a weird way, the Day the Music Died.  We love Princess Leia.  Personally, I LOVED the CGI that brought back Peter Cushing as Tarkin and gave us young Leia at the end of Rogue One.  But it's all the more heartbreaking that she's gone right after we heard her promise Hope.  

And now her mother, Debbie Reynolds, too, which takes me back another stage of life, LOUDLY singing while spinning around light posts. (Hopefully when it was raining because otherwise I looked weird carrying that umbrella.)  

It's nice when famous people use their fame to care about things that matter in the long-term instead of jumping onto whatever trendy political bandwagon is available.  Bipolar is not an easy battle, and fighting against the stigma and shame of mental health could easily be considered her greatest accomplishment.  

Goodbye, Carrie Fisher. Thank you.

Note: Edited because Jeff Caddick is a genius and pointed out that Uhura came first. Nyota Uhura is also amazing but pre-dates Leia.  I had given credit in the wrong order.

Thou Who Wast Rich Beyond All Splendour

I'm always overwhelmed at Christmas by the love and generosity of friends and family.  This year is a little unique for my family, as some changes may be coming in the next month or two.

As our families were assembled for a Christmas Eve and birthday party brunch, I prayed a grateful blessing that included the little one we're missing, the little one who may be soon leaving, and on all the beloved individuals (big and little) we call family.  Our time together may be limited, but the love is not.

I am not my child's greatest caretaker.  I am not always with them, but Jesus is.  Christmas is the best reminder of how intimate and personal our Savior is.  

In church this morning, we sang Thou Who Wast Rich Beyond All Splendour: 

Thou who wast rich beyond all splendour,
All for love's sake becamest poor;
Thrones for a manger didst surrender,
Sapphire-paved courts for stable floor.
Thou who wast rich beyond all splendour,
All for love's sake becomes poor.

Thou who art God beyond all praising,
All for love's sake becamest man;
Stooping so low, but sinners raising
Heavenwards by thine eternal plan.
Thou who art God beyond all praising,
All for love's sake becamest man.

Thou who art love beyond all telling,
Saviour and King, we worship thee.
Emmanuel, within us dwelling,
Make us what thou wouldst have us be.
Thou who art love beyond all telling,
Saviour and King, we worship thee.

Love beyond all telling.  That's Christmas.  We may read the story over and over, but it's beyond telling.  Thrones for a manger, sapphire-paved courts for a stable floor.

Thank you, Jesus.

to santa or not to santa

Growing up, my mom had this little statue among the Christmas decorations of Santa bowing before a baby Jesus in the manger.  I remember asking her one year why she had it, and she said it was a gift and didn't want to be rude because the gifter often visited our house. But, the next year, Santa didn't come back out of the attic. I think that was the last straw in pretending we bought into the whole "Santa thing" in my growing-up house.

I never believed in Santa Claus, at all. I don't think it's about me not remembering. I think I had two older sisters who would have been happy to relay the truth to me, but I also think I had parents who weren't really into Santa either.  My family always had enough "magic" of our own, believe me!

When I was in fourth or fifth grade, my oldest sister started signing her stocking gifts to me "Love, Rudolph," but it wasn't like she expected me to believe that they were from him.  We just enjoy Christmas music and lights and movies and cookies and I guess the whole "Santa" thing is a part of that.. so here's a cassette tape and a Lip Smackers from a Reindeer!

As a Christian, I am neither adamantly for or adamantly against Santa.  My personal thoughts are as follows:

• I want to teach my children to be grateful for things, so why give them a heap of presents and then not ask them to thank anyone? Like me and their father, for example, who picked them out, paid for them, and wrapped them.

• I firmly do not want my children to ruin the fun of other families (to the best of their ability). So my kids have been warned: Santa isn't real, but it's ok that other people want to pretend he is. You may not spoil it for people who are enjoying that make-believe.

• I want to teach my children the most important truth of Christmas. There are already so many, many things competing for my children's understanding of truth (Star Wars, for example). The last thing I want them to wonder about is if the story of Jesus coming to earth because of his overwhelming love for them is true. So to me, rather than saying "this is all true!" and then later telling them "well, that one part was just pretend," I'd rather just be up-front right away.

Personally, I don't think there's any valid argument that Christian families can't "do" Santa; we just don't. Your kid's eternal fate will not be affected by whether or not you remembered to drink the room temperature milk and eat the stale cookies quickly at 5:43 am before they run downstairs.  I think the things that will impact their perceptions of Christ and Christmas are far more about your pouring the Gospel of grace into them throughout the entire year.