Learning the Impossible

As you may have judged from my previous post, there was a day last week when I was not feeling very positive. It had been a very long day with anger, tears, frustration, and guilt on everyone's part. That night there was a disagreement about brushing teeth, going to bed, playing with toys, the rules regarding a new toy and everything in between.

Moose and I were so stressed that we called up a good friend (at 10:00). As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ, Moose and I wanted a blessing to help calm us and let us know if we were even pointed in the right direction with our parenting.

Our good friend came over and brought his brother-in-law (BIL) to help. Come to find out BIL is a psychiatrist, who works with children, in the Foster Care system. We hadn't told our friend what we wanted, but we received exactly what we needed.

We kept them until 11:30 and received the council we needed, both spiritually and temporally. What stuck with us the most is something that BIL told us as he had been talking with us. He told us that one of the skills parents need to learn is how to shut up. As an adult we sometimes over talk when silence is more powerful.

Yeah . . . talk about teaching old dogs new tricks.

But by golly, I've noticed in the three days I've been working on this new skill that when I keep my mouth shut after succinctly and clearly explaining that it works much better.

The other skill I need to learn is to make sure that I don't let my emotions take control. I can be all torn up inside, but I have to seem like I am in control. If the kids realize they have control over my emotions then I lose the little power I have . . . Sigh. No talking and no crying . . . I have a lot to work on.

Not Sinking In

Moose and I are trying to teach Tech a lesson in money management. We started this lesson on Monday. It is supposed to last for three weeks.

First to explain the lesson. We printed fake money and are paying or charging Tech for various activities. We gave him enough money to pay rent, buy food, and pay for screen time everyday. He even has money left over. He can also do work to earn money. He has to do his daily work. That is his job. He can also do yard work or even sell his tools and toolbox for instant cash. If he runs out of money he can take out a loan. The money received by loan can only be used for life essential items.

If Tech manages to use his money wisely he gets real cash as well as some advantages when school starts. If he uses his money okay he still gets some real money. If he doesn't use it well we don't exactly know what to do. I will also add that we will feed him, fake money or no. But some of his privileges may not be available, such as screen time. . .

So this started Monday. It is now Wednesday night. Anyone care to guess how much he has left? After Tech got home from his merit badge class he wanted screen time. He didn't have enough money. Moose was trying to get Tech to realize this was a problem. He was trying to get Tech to understand the real world application. If this was real world what would Tech do for food. Would Tech be willing to really sell his toolbox . . .

"Wait. I forgot I can sell my toolbox for more screen time."

Face palm.

So. Even though it may kill me we are going forward with this lesson. Tech will have no screen time after tomorrow. He will not be able to play with friends before his work is done. He will not get dessert (Moose and I will not be eating it in front of him). We will feed him, the same as we always do. But, let's just say we don't know how this is going to end.

Scared

Saturday we spend a great time with family. We left around 11 and got home just after 5. We had run to Wallyworld to pick up some night lights for our basement since we will be having family staying down there over the 4th. I headed to the basement to plug in the lights. I opened the door and stared at the large window. Shattered.

Moose came running when I called his name. He stopped behind me, just as shocked as I was. One half of the sliding window was broken as if something had flown through it. The screen was ripped off and ripped out of its frame in the window well, and the window cover wasn't visible.

We ran through the house to see if anything was missing. All the electronics and medications accounted for. Nothing visible missing. But the back screen door was open and it was shut when we left.

We believe it was an accident. That something was accidentally thrown through the window. Our screen covers are completely covered but there are gaps large enough for a perfectly thrown baseball. What scared me was the fact that there was broken glass found 15 feet from the window. A lot of glass was inside our house, but there was no sign of the object that broke the window. What scares me is the fact that they probably came into the house to retrieve what was broken. They could have slid the window open, came in, grabbed the object, and then left closing the window behind them.

The window is now boarded and we are waiting to hear the verdict on how much it will cost. We have now made braces for our windows and sliding back door, though as Moose points out, they can still just break the windows. Oh well. I am just glad that it wasn't worse.

Cartoons = Real Life

SCENE

Mother and son driving home. They pass a truck painting the lines on the road.

Son: I know how that works.

Mother: That's good. How does it work?

Son: Brush and *mumble*.

Mother: Brush and what?

Son: Boot.

Mother: Boot?:

Son: Yeah, you know. *makes circling motions with his hands* Brush and then boot and then brush and then boot.

Mother: Actually . . .

END SCENE

For the Birds

I am trying to write a sequel to my novel that is getting published. The only problem is that I keep getting distracted. By my bird feeder. I love watching the birds. I don't have any fancy birds that come to my feeder, but I have a lot of sparrows. Yesterday I probably had close to 15 birds at one point.

Over Father's Day weekend we went to Summerfest up in Logan. It seems that every year we go into a booth that has something that really just grabs our attention. This year is was a fellow who does bird carvings. This really hit home for me this year because of how much my grandmother loved birds. Standing in the booth looking at the birds Moose pointed out that he had two red winged blackbirds carvings.

Living up here we love the red winged blackbirds. We will drive by the fields and see the birds perched on the fence posts. We decided to spent our anniversary money to get it. Granted if there had been a sandhill crane we would have been torn over which one to get. We love living up here. It is so peaceful.

What's in a Name

SCENE

Wife and husband laying in bed talking.

Husband: Did you know that "The Ultimate 10" is actually 14 teams? That seems silly.

Wife: The Hundred Years War lasted more than 100 years.

Husband: That is reasonable. They just rounded.

Wife: Okay. What about a Baker's Dozen?

Husband: It's thirteen but after the Baker eats the one to test it there is only a dozen left.

Wife: Then why is it also called the Devil's Dozen?

Husband: That's because it makes the Baker fat.

END SCENE

Yummy

SCENE
Wife is looking through her text messages.

Text from Husband: I'm sorry. I accidentally took the butter for lunch.

Wife: (To herself) Not a big deal. He'll be hungry for dinner though.

Several hours later. Husband comes home from work.

Husband: I'm sorry. I took the butter.

Wife: It's not a big deal, but I'm sure you're hungry.

Husband: No. You don't understand. I didn't realize it was the butter, until after I microwaved it.

END SCENE

Funk Prevented

We almost had another funk Tuesday. It could have been like Friday where he is non-responsive for hours, doesn't talk, just covers his head with his blanket until we coerce him out of his room to take a shower at 8 after which he just goes back to his room and stays there the rest of the night.

Tuesday night we told him he wouldn't be able to go camping on Friday. Tech began to shut down. I more proactively tried to get him involved in another activity. He snapped at me and covered his head. I gave him ten minutes to work it through in his room. And then I got him out of his room. Do you know how?

Mwahahahaha!

There is a new rule in our house. A rule of etiquette. If someone knocks on your door, you answer it. Granted it takes about a full minute of knocking on the bedroom door, but it makes him get off his bed and open it in order for me to stop. If he doesn't come out but shuts the door again, I just keep knocking.

I wasn't going to let him stew. We had addressed the problem head on, gave him time to think about what had happened and why, and then we got him to keep moving.

My knuckles hurt, but the funk was prevented. We ended up having a nice evening together.
Yay!

Use What You've Got

SCENE

Husband calling wife from work.

Husband: I am going to the doctor today after all.

Wife: You're still not feeling well?

Husband: No. I took my temperature. I have a fever of 101.

Wife: I didn't realize you took the thermometer to work.

Husband: I didn't.

Silence

Wife: How do you know your temperature?

Husband: I used my multi-meter.

Silence.

Husband: I washed it first.

END SCENE

I'm am an Awful Mother

For the last few minutes I have been chanting this in my mind. Apparently I only now get motivated to write on my blog when I am admitting to a mistake. My friends at work all tell me that I need to write these things down so if there are other Foster Parents out there who feel the same way they don't have to feel it alone. Or something like that.

Tech is a great kid. I don't want anyone to think otherwise. He just hasn't had the environment to learn, grow, and develop as a healthy child in a stable, loving environment. When you are labeled as mentally retarded, never to live on your own, placed with the children with down syndrome in school, and given mood altering medications instead of being taught proper coping techniques, you just don't learn everything you need to. (Can you tell how I feel about some of his previous caregivers?)

My problem is sometimes I want to treat him as if he doesn't have that past, and I can't. It doesn't matter that he has lived 12 years because no one taught him how to be a 12-year-old.

Tonight he and a friend made plans to go see a movie at the local theater. They made the plans at 5 and the movie started at 7. Tech rushed home to get dinner and made a deal with us regarding getting his allowance early so he could go to the movies. This friend (who is a really good friend and kid in general) ended up helping his grandparents with watering their fields because his dad was too sick to do it. Because he chose to help his grandparents they didn't make it to the movie. They are now going to see it tomorrow.

Tech is no longer functioning this evening as a rational being. Something about not going to the movie with his friend has caused him to meltdown. We tried to encourage him in some activities (activities that if he would complete would mean that he would no longer have to make a deal with us regarding his allowance). Nothing. He pretends to be asleep sitting on the couch and when we call his name he opens his eyes and then closes them again as if he didn't hear us and is still asleep.

There are days I wonder if this is actually normal 12-year-old behavior. I mean no one likes to have fun plans cancelled, but the plans were just delayed, and he could have earned his entire allowance instead of it being reduced due to not completing his work. I just don't know some days. Maybe it is a good thing that we don't have any measuring stick. But right now, as I type this blog post and wonder what he is doing in his room, I just keep thinking "I'm an awful mother."

A Perfect Parent?

The last two days, Moose and I attended a conference put on by the Utah Foster Care. The main reason we went was it was a quick way to get hours for our re-certification. Now we are already planning on going to next year's if they have it again.

There were two speakers. The first was Dr. Laura Bennett-Murphy. She works here in Utah with children who are from refugee families and endured severe trauma. Let's just say that I needed the tissues I brought. There were several points that really stood out to me. The first is that as a parent there are times that when my child loses hope, I can still hold on to it and reassure them that behind the storm clouds, the sun is still there and it will be back. I also loved the idea that children will get frustrated and mad with me as a parent. Even when they are yelling at me and telling me that I am stupid or they wish I was dead that they still love me. (And now for the cute picture she showed.)

Thursday's speaker was Daniel J Siegel, MD. Moose and I had to slip our an hour early and we were so disappointed not to hear it all. What he talked about was the Adolescent brain. 12-24 is the age of adolescence. They are neither child nor adult and knowing what is actually going on in their brain can help adults teach them. It was amazing. We sat in rapture from 9 until we had to duck out at 3. We spent the entire drive home talking about how things are now starting to make sense.

Tech is 12 but we can already see how the things Siegel talked about apply to our situation. He has a book out called Brainstorm that is written for both an adult audience and for an adolescent audience because adolescents don't always know why they do why they do but if they know how their brain works it gives them power over themselves.

Moose and I have ordered the book and I will do a review when I read it, but I can already tell you that I am going to love it.

What really stuck with me that both speakers emphasized was the fact that parents will occasionally flip their lids. Both speakers admitted to the fact that despite all of their education, training, experience, they still get frustrated. The fact of the matter is that it will happen, but as adults we need to repair the situation after it happens. That is what makes a good parent.

Maybe Moose and I have a chance at doing okay after all.

Feeling like a Mother

Yesterday I truly felt it. The motherly feeling. I now understand the sinking in the pit of my stomach as I wonder if everything is alright. Of seeing the child cry and wanting to help but not knowing what to say. Of being disappointed in the child's actions and wishing it could have happened differently. Of hoping it will never happen again and yet preparing for when it does. Of trying to apologize to someone for something your child did when the child doesn't have an understanding of what he did wrong. Of staying awake at night while trying to determine how to get through the next day. Of wondering if there was something I could have done earlier to prevent it from happening.

I was expecting it to happen eventually. I have felt some of these feelings before, but it really is different when the feelings are regarding someone who is under your care. Who would have trouble surviving on their own. Who is still learning about life, how to interact with others, and deal appropriately in situations.

As my dad would say: Isn't this journey exciting?

And now that you are all thinking the worse I will add that Tech is safe, we are safe, it was just an unfortunate situation. No more details will be given.

Quick and Easy

Moose and I were sitting at church when Tech sat down and folded up his leg. At that point we noticed that underneath his church trousers was a pair of Levis. We looked at each other and shrugged. As we drove home we asked him why he was wearing two pairs of trousers.

Tech: Because you told me I have to change after church. Now I can just pull of my pants and be ready to go. I can be quick.

I just laughed. I mean, wouldn't that be uncomfortable? It isn't even like when I wear long-johns under my clothes. He was wearing two pairs of trousers. As Moose and I were changing out of our clothes he admitted to something.

Moose: When I was a kid, we would put our pajamas on over our street clothes so when we woke up in the morning we would just pull off our pajamas and be ready to go.

Maybe it is a guy thing?

No Need for Reading

Moose and I have different opinions on reading. As I mentioned previously, reading is a priority for me. For Moose it was something that he didn't enjoy, until I took away his cable, and gave him books he found interesting.

This week we have been working with Tech on his reading skills. Due to his situation he needs help with school. As we were working one night he threw up his hands in frustration.

Tech: I don't need to learn this.

Me: You don't need to learn to read?

Tech: No I don't.

Me: Yes you do. You can't get a driver's license or a job if you can't read.

Tech: That doesn't matter because I am going to own my own business. I don't need to read.

Moose and I are worried. I am kind of hoping he knows he has to read and that this is just him letting out his frustration. Kind of like how I often say "I hate my hair, I am going to shave my head."

Now all we have to do is get his confidence up. We have motivated him to read because reading is tied to his screen time. He always gets between 8 and 9, if he gets his homework/studying done. If he wants any more time he has to read. Bwahaha. What a maniacal plot we have hatched.

I Don't Know

Tech started school on Tuesday. That morning Moose and I were in the office doing the finishing touches. The secretaries were helpful. They are great ladies. Since Tech has gym he needed a gym uniform.

"What's his size?" One asked as she looked through the box of uniforms.

"I don't know?"

She glanced up at me. "Small or medium?"

I shrugged "I don't know. I've never bought clothes for him."

That got a raised eyebrow. They finally just had him hold them up and told him if they didn't fit to bring them back and change them out for something that would. A little while later while filling out more paperwork she asked if he was in the system.

"Yes. He moved in with us on Saturday."

That got a smile and I no longer looked like a completely ignorant mother.

Oh the story fodder I am already accumulating.

Relatively Easy

This last week I embarked on a new journey. I am now a mother. I did not wait nine months and do not spend sleepless nights trying to cajole a child into sleep only to wake a few hours later to begin the process again. No. My husband and I are now the parents of a lively12-year-old boy. This boy, Tech, is smart, cheerful, and eager to please. We are excited to have him in our home.

As a new mother, every day I am learning something new about myself. I am learning that I actually clean more now that I have Tech here. I am also learning that I am bothered by things I never thought about.

I first noticed this particular peeve when I started working at the school. Some kids do well in school. Kids like me. For us, it seemed that traditional schooling was designed with us in mind. For others, like my husband, school is the best torture that could be devised to torment their every moment. Working in a first grade class the kids are proud of their accomplishments. They like to share with others their accomplishments. These phrases often include the words “It is easy.” As the year has continued that phrase has increasingly bothered me.

I don’t want this post to be a statement of the obvious (reference the title). But rather I think that this phrase is just as harmful to the person saying it as it is to the people who are hearing it. I have come to understand that just as kids are quick to say “This is easy. I can do that.” They are just as quick, or even quicker to say “This is hard. I can’t do it.”

Maybe you are expecting some remark here about how I have come to help the children work through these difficult times and uplift them. Nope. Maybe in a year or two I will have insight as to how to help children with this. For now, Moose and I sit up at night to devise ways to trick, cajole, plead, and reward Tech into doing what he should be doing. Tech is one that has had few intellectual challenges due to his situation. As I talk to my friends they just nod and welcome me to motherhood.

I just hope as a mother I can teach him that he can do hard things. And eventually I hope that I can do it without the tricks, cajoling, pleading, or additional rewards.

Ebay

SCENE

While fighting over who had to have the bookmark on their pillow, the bookmark slipped between the headboard and the mattress. When the husband and wife finished reading the wife makes the husband look for the bookmark.

Husband, looking under the bed: I can't find it.

Wife: I am sure it fell.

Husband: Maybe.

Wife: You know there is a black hole under the bed. I stuff things under there all the time and it always remains clean.

Husband: It's not a black hole.

Wife: Are you sure?

Husband: Yeah. Kitty sells the stuff she finds under the bed on Ebay.

END SCENE

A Clean Home and Fond Memories

This last week was one of firsts. Happy and sad.

Last week we completed our home study . . . yay! For those of you who don’t know, that means someone comes into our house, interviews us, and makes sure the house is safe. This happens every year we want to be a Foster Parent. But the first home study is the most important. This would decide if they thought us appropriate for being Foster Parents. Granted they can always revoke our license later if something comes up, but now we are in the door.

During our Foster Care classes we heard multiple horror stories of people trying to pass the safety side of the home study. Some close friends had their licensor practically go through every cupboard and closet. When doing Foster Care there are specific criteria that must be met. If there are young children you have to have gates for stair cases and outlet covers (common sense). There is a realistic demand for window well covers. I can even understand locking up all of the harmful chemicals, such as gasoline, and medications. What I kind of dropped my jaw at was the fact that we had to lock up our daily vitamins and dishwashing and laundry detergent. . . okay. I can see the point behind those.

So here is what we learned. You can lock everything in the garage. Moose installed a dead bolt that requires a key from both sides. Now we can lock the garage with all of the power tools, chemicals, and other random items as the need arises. We installed a cabinet over our dryer that we can lock which has all of the household cleaners and our medications. This means there are two new keys on my keychain. This also means when we get children in the home, I have to keep my keys with me at all times. I mean what is the point of locking the stuff up if the keys are available. Our licensor was a little more laid back and friendly. He did not go through every closet, but I swear they were clean.

The other first was that I spoke at a funeral. I wasn’t very happy when I was first asked. I didn’t think I was the right person and I didn’t want any more stress. I said yes . . . Moose complains that I never learned to say no. I was to give a life sketch and read the obituary. I was really nervous. I haven’t been to many funerals and I wasn’t sure exactly what the audience would be expecting. I knew that many of the audience members have been to quite a few funerals. I just didn’t want to embarrass the family by saying anything wrong.

I wrote several drafts but none of them really felt right. The more I worked on it, the more I remembered the wonderful experiences I had. I would read through my notes as if I was at the funeral and just randomly add stories. It sounded terrible, even to me. I looked up articles about reading eulogies at funerals and the one that stuck out most was that I needed to have it written down. I stayed up until almost one to write out exactly what I was going to say. I practiced it multiple times for our cat since I didn’t want to disturb Moose. I finally got to the point where I felt comfortable reading it.

When I arrived at the funeral I panicked. I realized that my little life sketch was completely biased by me. I had more of my own personal memories and stories and not many that involved other people. I thought about trying to rewrite bits to include other family members but nothing came to mind. I came to the conclusion that it might sound self-centered but it was all I had.

I am pleased to say that it went well. I probably could have done better. I was happy people told me I did a good job. I probably developed a slight ego in regards to my writing ability. I just hope I don’t have to do it again for a long time.

Grandmother

• Grandmother had red hair.
• She liked to cook. And she was really good at it. (The only time I’ve eaten mutton was when she cooked it.)
• She introduced us to Harry Potter.
• She introduced my mother to fantasy books, including THE BLUE SWORD which is a family favorite.
• She beat cancer, twice.
• She liked playing Freecell on the computer. She decided to try and play them all and went through them numerically. (Some of them can’t be won.)
• She played the piano. Her favorite song to play was "The Man I Love" by Gershwin.
• She liked playing card games including Pinochle, Hoof and Mouth, Grandma Doesn’t Know, Kings Corner, Lucky Duck, and Wizard.
• She barrel raced.
• She would sneak off when she was a child to read.
• I remember driving with her the big Dodge Ram truck and she always made wise cracks about a grandma behind the wheel of such a big vehicle.
• She let her grandchildren play her baby grand piano.
• She liked to goose my grandfather.
• She loved watching birds.
• She taught her sons how to use stilts while she was pregnant (Grandfather wasn’t happy).
• She loved roses.
• She would play with the neighbors’ cats, so long as they didn’t hurt her birds.
• She was fashionable in clothing and jewelry.
• She embraced technology, and introduced me to Amazon back when it just sold books.
• She loved giving her grandchildren books.
• Jell-o salad (enough said).
• She taught children to stick their tongues out.
• She liked science fiction movies and watching Turner classic movies channel.
• She would go to the Farmers Market in the summer on Saturdays to get her fresh produce for the week.
• She collected comic books such as Calvin and Hobbes, For Better or Worse, Zits, and Foxtrot.
• She liked doing puzzles.
• When I was in college we would change books back and forth.
• Her laugh was infectious.
• She earned an English Degree from BYU so she could teach.
• She believed in left overs.
• She played the organ for her church starting when she was a teenager.
• She did a biking tour of Europe when she graduated from college.
• Family was important to her and she would make arrangements when she got older and had a difficult time driving so she could attend baby and bridal showers.
• Her two older brothers spoiled her since she was the only girl and years younger than they were.
• She loved her Heavenly Father and Grandfather more than herself.

New Endeavors

Sorry for the late post. I thought my life would be calming down this month, but a new development has arisen in our lives. Last summer after extensive testing, Moose and I learned that biological children were not going to be in the picture in this lifetime. (Part of me has always wondered if I would have this problem. I have had enough difficulties that it just nagged at me all these years. But I am glad that there is a definite answer.)

So, we are embarking on a new adventure: becoming certified Foster Parents. I don’t know how well I will actually handle having a child leave, but I would like to think that maybe we can find some sliver of happiness in this endeavor. Becoming certified, however, is an extensive process which include night classes twice a week for a month. This means there are two days a week when I leave at 7:30 in the morning and don’t get home until around 10:00 at night. Therefore, my post did not get done on time today.

What amazes me most about this process is that when we tell people we don’t get the reaction I expect. Foster Care has some negative connotation to it, especially because of media. I have become more aware of how often characters are type-cast by the label “foster child.” What people normally say is “Oh, my friend/brother/cousin does Foster Care. Good for you.”

Now I must steel myself for the horror stories of tonight. Most of the time the stories aren’t about children misbehaving but rather about the adults who just aren’t thinking and make a situation worse. For example: Why any parent would leave any fourteen year old alone for hours with access to car keys is beyond me.