The hardest thing to do is to comfort a crying little girl who just wants to see her parents. Who is really confused. Who doesn’t understand all the newness or strangeness. Who is sad and angry. Who doesn’t want a hug from the strange lady but melts into it because it is all there is. Who really doesn’t want your comfort because you are a stranger.

I haven’t perfected my words in those moments. I always get caught off guard. Tonight I just told her it was my job to keep her safe and happy while things got figured out. That it was ok be sad and mad and scared and that she was not alone.

In the quiet and very raw and very vulnerable moments first thing in the morning, you may take a breath and every emotion you have been holding onto will come flooding in like a crashing wave.

My daughter came home from college last night. The magnitude of that doesn’t escape me. She hugged me for ever and then immediately jumped into help with dinner. My son hugged his sister. The sheer force of emotion on that one was astounding.

Then I watched two little girls play with her hair before all hell broke loose. I watched my son play Pokémon with the oldest. It was the calm before the storm.

Such big huge emotions today but … I might have come up with a genius idea. Maybe.

So because days can be hard but sleeps go quick… we are going to count sleeps until we see mommy and daddy again. The hearts are visit days. The numbers are the sleeps.

Thank goodness for giant desk calendars and a moment of sheer diabolical genius.

Today’s foster care journey is brought to you by tears. Mine and theirs.

Today started like any other day. Got everyone dressed and fed. I was even able to shower without anyone screaming my name.

I have one teen who walked to school with friends and another teen who has a stomach bug so is relegated to staying in bed and resting. Took the oldest two littles to school. That was a dumpster fire because the school changed their drop off traffic patterns without alerting a single soul and mass chaos ensued. But we did it.

Dropped my littlest off at daycare and just as I was about to walk out the front door, she came screaming like a banshee from her classroom, clung to my leg and lost it.

How I was able to keep it together in that moment- who knows but I am glad I could.

She cried and cried with her head nestled in that hollow between my neck and shoulder. After a few minutes, the wonderful teacher took her from arms, cuddled her and shooed me out the door.

I am posting from home because I had to come home to change out of the clothes I originally had on. So much for my cute green sweater and getting to work an hour early to work on Via Colori Kentucky

Why?

Because my beautiful sweater and pants were covered in three year grossness brought on by big emotions. Big emotions because her life is out of control and she is so very little. At least she ran to me. I am glad I was there for her in this moment.

I will admit that some of those spots were from the deluge of tears I cried on the way home from the daycare.

I have few words right now. And what little composure I had went out the window today.

We have to do better.

#thisisfostercare
#befosteraware 2019

This mornings foster care journey is brought to you by “seriously 🙄🙄🙄”

We made the girls eggs, toast with homemade jelly, yogurt and banana puffs for breakfast

My oldest little “accidentally” dropped (threw) her breakfast on the floor – then conveniently asked for marshmallow cereal which we didn’t serve this morning for reasons – I didn’t have enough for all three TBH

We didn’t see the “accident” so we complied

My littlest little wanted the same cereal and attempted to drop (throw) her breakfast on the floor

I stopped that
Guess which three year melted down into a temper tantrum and then eventually ate her breakfast

My four year old also attempted a “dropping” -no temper tantrum but if looks could kill … I would be quite and most assuredly dead.

Guess which girls will have plain Cheerios next time food “accidentally” hits the floor
They were not happy about this new change 😂

#thisisfostercare 2019

Apparently asking a four year old to clean up 17 toys before she gets to color in a coloring book is akin to asking her to boil herself in a pot of soup.

It was enough for her to utter “I hate you” under her breath and “I don’t listen to you”

😂
Oh sweet summer child…

She is angry right now and she needs to be allowed to be angry. If she needs to hate me for a little bit, I am also ok with that.

Her world is confusing. But I can tell you this- confusing or not – she will pick up those toys before she gets to color. I am picking this battle because she gets away with a bunch because she is angry. And not cleaning up means you don’t color. Logical consequences.

Her sisters have cleaned up their toys. She chose to sit and pout.

I am hanging my hat on this for a bit because sooner or later, you have to clean up and if you don’t, no coloring book for you. I am not fighting with her. I have left her be. She can be angry with me for thirty years, she still isn’t going to color.

Kids who have had trauma (and even those who haven’t) need to learn logical consequences in a safe and loving environment. I could battle the fact that she was rude or disrespectful or I can let her be angry and when she isn’t angry – talk to her about “nice words” . I am opting to confront the clean up and not the big emotions she is struggling with.

She talked to both parents today and that didn’t help at all. She wants to go home. She doesn’t understand why she is still here. I don’t have the words to help her except “you are safe while the grownups figure it out and that is all that matters”

This is foster care.

Note – in the time it took me to type this – said four year old wandered out of her room to inform me that I am stupid 😂

I asked her if she was ready to use nice words and clean her room- and she said “no” and stomped her little self back to her room.

But guess who is picking up her toys as I type….

Guess who has a new coloring book and crayons once she is done – thanks to my amazing next door neighbor

Guess who will probably still not like me until tomorrow 😂

Guess which mama is pouring a glass of white wine and waiting for a four year old to calm down 🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

#thisisfostercare 2019

We have a ghost decoration in our tree on the front yard. Our littlest little goes to the door every 8 seconds, stands there and announces “There’s a ghost in the tree guys”

Every
Eight
Seconds
All
Day
Long

😂👻🤦🏻‍♀️
#thisisfostercare 2019

I just told the littles we need to clean their room. They looked at their toxic waste dump site of a bedroom and the oldest said “it isn’t so bad” as she kicked stuff under the bed 😂😂😂🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

#thisisfostercare 2019

Apparently the book “llama llama time to share” is a sham. I have read it 15 times in two weeks and the middle little just socked her little sister because she wouldn’t share the piece of trash she found on her floor

Piece of trash. A minuscule piece of trash just inspired a physical fight between two children.

I need click list for the wine store 🤦🏻‍♀️
#thisisfostercare