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Uncovering laughter, joy and sanity in everyday life.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

"Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes, they forgive them"

I'd like a sign to wear when I go out in public that says: Foster Mother, Don't Judge. 
I'm mostly embarrassed that someone might mistake my child's misbehavior for my DNA.

Looking at pictures the other day, staring at the past. I reconfigured some framed photos recently.
Wanted a mother or husband to hold me while I cried myself to sleep the other night. Maybe it is just
stress. I've been wishing for some comfort, a connection. Things with my foster children are really taking a toll on my physical and mental well being.

We have a 4 month old baby since he was 3 days old. I picked him up from the hospital on January 21st, 2011. Baby Peanut looks up at me with love in his eyes. I don't see that in my foster daughters - her hurt runs too deep to even care about anyone but herself, and even caring for herself is a challenge.
Naptime with Peanut - Two months old


Baby Peanut experienced a rather abrupt boarding into his car seat one afternoon this week. It was raining, I slipped, he slid in, bumped his head lightly on car seat arm-beam but didn't cry. Turned around 3 quarters of his body to look for me, to make sure I was okay? That totally deserved kisses, no matter how much It hurt when I skinned my knee on the truck. 

We have a 1% chance of keeping this lovely boy forever. But, it's likely that he will move on. I keep telling myself that Baby Peanut isn't mine - and won't be since day one. It is so hard because that little voice inside my head, that has been there all along, says to me I'm not worthy of having a baby. I don't know what God's plan is, but it sucks. Having someone this small in our lives, who truly loves me and my family, and having to give him away is really hard and disappointing. I keep telling myself I'm a bridge for a young life to find peace. 
I don't know how much we will be involved after he moves, since every time we see him it will break all of our hearts that he couldn't stay with us. I know deep down, being with his brother is likely the best fit. He will be missed greatly and we will all mourn his loss. I can see taking another baby in time. Maybe this is what I was meant to do. Going through menopause at 32 isn't fair, I'd love to have my own children, but that must not be what was meant for me.

"The will to win, the desire to succeed, the urge to reach your full potential... these are the keys that will unlock the door to personal excellence.”


I don't like:
Always having to raise my voice
Not having anyone listen to instructions
Not having a daughter in my life who respects me or my authority
Not having a deep bond with this person who lives in my home
Not being able to trust



Stealing, lying, hoarding food. All the things I did as a child, but only because my mother didn't care to get out of bed to take care of me.

I meet the needs of my children and that doesn't make a difference. How do I love someone who breaks my heart frequently? I'd like to be more proud of my children. I'd like to be more proud of myself.

I was threatened by my daughter the other morning, when I told her not to wear flipflops to school Wednesday. It's against school dress code. She told me that "I" would need to drive her up shoes if she got caught. The punishment didn't sound fair to me, so I called the school and explained the situation. I'm delighted to get the principal, on the last day of school, to rip my daughter a new one (to tears) over her flipflop wearing. This is why I joined the PTA. It takes an army to raise a child. I take my delights in a different way. Although, someone did earn $5 for every grade she brought up to an A. Which is being credited towards some money she owes me, that was stollen out of my purse, to buy the above snacks at a value of $75 dollars.


“Child abuse casts a shadow the length of a lifetime.”



1 comment:

  1. ‎"Foster Mother, Don't Judge." man I wish they had bumperstickers and tshirts like this for us foster parents. Good grief. We are right there with you.

    ReplyDelete