Things you should NEVER say to foster or adoptive parents.

This is a bit of a rant, but please bear with me. Lately I've picked up the mantra "Some people just shouldn't talk" and repeated it to myself and my girls whenever we encounter insensitive people. Which is decently often.

I'm a foster mom. My girls have been placed with my husband and I permanently, we hope the court will eventually allow us to adopt them. Whatever the legal system says, we are a family. The girls call us Mom and Dad, we refer to them as our daughters. We live together, we have arguments and issues, we love each other. We're a family.

Technically, if Magda and Rosie were our biological children, Josh and I would have been 18 years old when Magda was born. Also, they are partially Hispanic. The girls' little brother, Isaiah, lived with us for 1 1/2 years before he returned home to his biological dad and he's especially Hispanic looking. This is where a lot of people get hung up. We look young to have a 12 year old and the kids don't look like us.

And people say things. Out loud. Stupid things.

One conversation I had while at the bookstore with Isaiah went like this:

Man hears Isaiah call me "Mom", does a double take and says, "You're his mom?"
Me: "Yes."  You just heard him call me "Mom", congratulations on being a genius.
Man: "But he's Hispanic."
Me: "Yep."  What? Holy crap, how did that happen?!
Man: "Is his father Hispanic?"
Me: "Yes."  You're not my best friend, I'm not going to share all the details of my life. Have you never seen an interracial family before?

Usually, I try to be optimistic about the human race and see beauty in people, but when you say rude things in front of my kids, I'm not on your side anymore.

People need to realize that the things they say about kids and to kids have a profound affect on them. Please, think before you speak. Is it necessary to point out differences in our skin tone or our ages? The kids already feel different, must you speak the obvious? What is the point?  Why can't you just look at us and see a happy family?

So, here's a little guide based on personal experience of what not to say to foster or adoptive parents and kids:

Don't ask me how old I am. It doesn't matter. My kids are well taken care of and well behaved, it shouldn't matter if I was a teen mom or not. I know many people who're teen parents and they are lovely and have wonderful kids. Besides, what are you hoping to accomplish with your condescending, judgmental looks and tone of voice?  I can't and wouldn't send them back. How about a little support.

Don't say things like, "I could never be a foster parent." Either you're saying that you couldn't handle becoming attached to a child and having to let him go, or you're saying you couldn't handle dealing with children that are not yours biologically. Either way you're going to hurt my feelings or my kids' feelings. The thing is, being a foster parent is hard and I'm not some calloused robot that doesn't feel pain when a child I love leaves my home. And yes, foster kids come with issues from their past, but lets not talk about that right in front of them please. They're just people who deserve love. 

Never say, "It's like you're a real family".  We are a real family.

Don't gush about how wonderful we are for taking in older kids. Maybe we became parents non traditionally, but we're just parents like anyone else who chooses to have kids.

I don't want to hear all your horror stories about foster care. Everybody has a, "My friend's friend had a sister who was a foster mom and those kids burnt her house down", story.  Save it. Especially if my girls are with me.

Don't ask where their "real" parents are. First of all, the term you're looking for is "birth parent". My husband and I are the ones living with them and caring for them. At this point we're their real parents. Secondly, why would you ask this question in front of the kids? Obviously, if they're in foster care there's a reason and it's not a nice story. If you're looking for a sad story to gossip about, look elsewhere. 

Don't ask how much money we make being foster parents.  This one really shouldn't require an explanation. When you ask me that in front of my girls, you're reducing their value to a number. We recently told the court that we would be their guardians and not receive monetary reimbursement if it meant less DHS involvement in our lives. It still might happen that way eventually.

Don't tell me I got kids the easy way.  Just because I didn't give birth, doesn't mean its been easy. Raising kids is hard work no matter what. I promise I would trade the years of emotional pain of infertility, for a few hours of labor pains any day. However unconventional it may look, we're a family. You probably don't know the whole story of how we came to be, so don't make assumptions.

The truth is, I really appreciate my friends and family and how supportive they are of us. They've accepted our kids with open arms and never once questioned our motives. Hopefully, someday the rest of the world will catch up. I remind my girls once in a while that Josh and I chose to make them part of our family. I hope it makes them feel special. Even though its been a long, hard road for all of us, I don't have regrets. I wouldn't change my experiences, even the hard ones, because they led us here. 

Thoughts on Becoming an Activist.

  

I've been observing a curious trend lately. It seems we've all become expert critics. I tend to be an opinionated person and have to be especially careful not to be overly critical. I think the danger in being a critic is that it's easier to critique than to support. I'm a supporter of many causes. I have a hard time choosing who and what to support, there are simply too many causes in the world that I feel strongly about, but the fact is I have to do something. I feel it's my responsibility as a human.  The truth is I could always do more, we all could.  We live in a culture where it's so easy to be immobilized by meaningless distraction. We get wrapped up in our own little worlds and it can be so hard to break out. I think each of us has a lot to give if we'd just try. I certainly know I'm guilty of having good intentions, but no follow through.

Why is it that people can be so quick to criticize and reluctant to care about the hard issues? Why do we vilify people who are trying to bring awareness to the most difficult situations in the world. I'm not saying you have to subscribe to every cause you come across, but I am suspicious of people who don't subscribe to anything, or to very little, and spend the rest of their time discrediting the various causes they encounter. I think it's a red flag if we are against more things than we are for. Of course, there are causes people won't support due to moral conflicts and that's fine, but when it comes to justice and basic human rights, why are we so divided? Why do we make everything political? Maybe it's a diversion so we can remain comfortable and inactive, an excuse to turn a blind eye to the atrocities happening around us. 

Here's a few things I've done on my journey to becoming less of a critic and more of an activist:

Serve: Doing something besides just trying to meet my own needs each day is so important. I could easily spend a day working, shopping, cooking and cleaning without ever really noticing those around me. I've been challenging myself lately to be more outgoing, little things like complimenting someone everyday and smiling at the people I come in contact with or starting a conversation with the person I'm standing in line with at the store. (I think the last one really annoys some people, so I don't push it.) This is an effort to truly see the people around me. Connecting with and serving people is a way to open my mind to the circumstances of others. It takes intentionality to see the plight of other people, whether it's the homeless man on the corner or the woman struggling to carry her groceries and lead her children at the same time, most of us are capable of lending a helping hand. I'm proud to be a part of a church family that regularly serves our community. What better way to connect with and learn about others?


For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another.  Galatians 5:13
  
Travel: Getting out of my own culture and learning how people live in other places has been one of the best things I've ever done. Being immersed in another way of life has forced me to rethink my preconceived notions about other people groups and situations in the world. I know it sounds cliché, but the truth is, all the times I've gone to another country to serve, I'm the one who is blessed and returns a better person.
I understand not everyone has the means or the opportunity to travel to another country, but learning about another culture could simply mean befriending someone with different political and/or religious ideals than yourself. You may be surprised what you can learn from each other and how much you may actually have in common. 

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”  -Mark Twain


Read: Yesterday I read a survey done by The Jenkins Group, an independent publishing services firm, that shows millions of Americans never read another book after leaving school. It also said 80% of U.S. families did not buy or read a book last year. I find this tragic. I believe reading makes for well rounded people, who are less egocentric and able to empathize with the plight of others. They read stories about other people, become educated about situations in their community and around the world, get out of their own heads and into the head of a character in a story. Reading broadens worldviews, allows opinions to grow and evolve and inspires action and creativity. Plus, it's fun.

"The more you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go."
-Dr Seuss, "I Can Read With My Eyes Shut!" 

Take Risks:  Obviously one of the best ways to get out of your comfort zone it to do something drastic. The most difficult and scary things I've done have always been the most rewarding, i.e. quitting my job and moving overseas, becoming a foster parent. These experiences shape who I am, make me more socially aware and force me into relationships with new people. I'm more open minded and willing to get behind a cause and support others because of the people who believed in and supported me when I was the one with the cause.

"The dangers of life are infinite, and among them is safety."  
- Goethe

Now it's time for me to get off the couch and do some good.

Memories

I've been wanting/needing to record some old memories here for a while. Sometimes I fear when I'm old, I'll forget the important events and places I've experienced. I want to write down the things that stand out from important trips I've taken. The only record I have of most of my travels are some journal entries and e-mails I sent to friends and family. So, I decided to highlight some of my favorite memories, mainly for myself and maybe my kids, to enjoy later. Here's one about the six months I spent in the Philippine Islands with Youth With A Mission when I was nineteen. I attended a Discipleship Training School on board the M/V Island Mercy, a ship equipped to provide medical assistance, mainly eye surgery for cataracts.



I once had a dream about a clock. It was set inside a large ship's wheel or helm. It wasn't a very interesting dream, just the clock, but for some reason it stuck with me and I would sometimes picture the clock in my mind.
Several months after the clock dream I arrived on board the M/V Island Mercy docked in Manila Bay. It was late, but I was given a quick tour of the ship and there, in the main gathering area or lounge, was the clock from my dream. I stopped and stood there staring at the clock on the wall for a few moments before hurrying after my guide who had continued walking down the hall and was rattling off ship terminology, explaining which side was port, starboard etc.
Later, as I was lying in my bunk being lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the ship, I thought about the clock and my dream and felt such a sense of peace, feeling I was about to embark on an amazing adventure and that I was exactly where I should be.

Manila is a sea of sixteen million people and the most densely populated city in the world. A chaotic combination of cars, jeepney taxis, motorcycle taxis, shanty towns, skyscrapers, market places made from colorful awnings and full of delicious, tropical fruit, handmade crafts, chickens, pigs and children selling eggs and jewelry and fishermen displaying their daily catch.

 The months we spent in Manila consisted of daily work duties, preparing breakfast in the galley at 6:00am or working in the 110 degree engine room. Five days a week we had morning worship and lectures on the aft deck, our music and voices joining with the hum and clatter of  the busy pier.  Many weekends we spent in the city with the street children of Manila. Playing games with them, passing out snacks or just being a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on. I always left the children feeling as though we could never do enough for them.
The students and ship's crew represented several different countries and cultures, but we became a family, learning to live and work together in close quarters, teaching each other our traditions and languages.
The night we sailed from Manila there was bio-luminescent algae glowing electric blue in the black waters of Manila Bay.  Next morning I woke early to work in the galley, but first I slipped outside to the bow of the ship to watch the sunrise. As the sun rose over the sea I saw that we had exchanged the polluted waters of Manila for the clear, blue waters of the rural islands. Flying fish soared in and out of the waves around the bow and islands of palm trees and bamboo forests slid silently by.

Our destination was the island of Mindoro where the ship was part of a medical outreach providing dentistry and cataract surgery for people who'd otherwise be unable to afford it. Once, I had the opportunity to watch the surgeon perform the eye operation, skillfully and quickly removing the cataracts and inserting new lenses into the eyes of a woman who had been mostly blind for twenty years. As her eyes healed, she began to regain her sight over the next couple days.
Mindoro is where I had my first glimpse of  how beautiful the Philippines truly are. We spent our free time exploring the island, swimming in the ocean, and marveling at the pristine, white sand beaches. One night a group of us were laying on the beach after dark watching the stars and my friend was pointing out the constellations he recognized,  Orion, Sagittarius the archer, and I realized the stars seemed brighter and closer then I'd ever seen before. Suddenly I felt incredibly small and insignificant, a speck of dust in the cosmos. I voiced my thought to the group and one of the girls said, "Yes, we are small, maybe no more than a speck of dust or a grain of sand, but God sees us".  God sees us. He sees me. In the midst of all the chaos, the creator of the universe sees me. At the time, this thought was as profound as is was simple.

Next we sailed to the remote island of Palawan. This time a pod of dolphins joined us for a while during our sail. They played in the wake, coming close with an inquisitive eye and diving away again, like children unsure of a new playmate.
In Palawan we moved off the ship and into a YWAM base in Puerto Princessa.  Emotions ran high as we said goodbye to the ship and crew, our home and family of the last four months.
Palawan proved to be one of the most exquisitely, beautiful places I've ever been.  I loved hiking through the rich rainforests where the thick, humid air resonates with the songs of hundreds of tropical birds and the sunlight is filtered through the canopy of palms, banana trees, mango trees and bamboo. One forest we visited had families of monkeys and monitor lizards.  The beaches are a mix of white sand and breath taking mountain cliffs and the bluest water. On a free afternoon, I went island hopping with a group of friends in a little outrigger boat. As we were skimming across the water, I looked down and realized the water was so clear I could see purple starfish on the sandy bottom 15-20 feet down. The water looked so perfect and inviting, it took some self restraint to not dive straight off the back of the boat. We snorkeled through coral reefs with shoals of neon colored fish, I tried my hand at surfing and mostly spent as much time in the sea as possible. My days on the island flowed together in waves of green and blue.

My team spent most of our outreach phase in Palawan. We spent a few days at an orphanage clearing brush and planting a garden. Next, we held a vacation bible school for children of prisoners, living in a prison village and held a youth camp for teenagers.
Then we moved for a time to the Ransang YWAM base across the island. This is where we were truly roughing it. The base was a handful of bamboo and palm leaf woven houses with no running water or electricity. From there we trekked through dense rainforest to visit a remote tribe of people.
This was the most trying part of the trip for me. The place its self is amazing and the people we met were beautiful and generous, but I'd been away from home for five months and I was beginning to feel homesick. Homesickness combined with the fact that we only had bucket showers or a stream to bath in and I never quite felt clean and the slow pace of life in this remote place was starting to affect my morale. If it hadn't been for my team of friends, I probably would've lost my mind in the jungle.

The last couple weeks of outreach were spent back in Manila at a home for troubled youth called Alay Pag-asa.  It was a shock to my system going from the rural and slow paced village of Ransang to the chaotic concrete jungle of  Manila. In spite of the shock, I fell in love with the kids we met there. Many of them had been street kids, but were now in school and learning vocational skills. To hear their stories of transformation from homelessness and desperation to currently striving at school and learning a trade was a wonderful example of empowerment.

It's strange writing about something that happened a decade ago, because I'm not the person I was then. I suppose none of us are the same as we were ten years ago. This trip was a turning point for me. It was in the Philippines that I began to come out of my shell and leave the young timid girl behind. There's so many more stories I could tell about the people I met and the adventures we had, learning to live with giant insects and spiritual warfare, but one of the most important things that happened was I learned how to be myself. I'm still learning really, but that's where it started. One of our speakers during the school told me I was like a bird in a cage, but the door to the cage was open and it was up to me to step out and fly away. Since that time I've had so many other major life experiences that have been beautiful and extremely difficult in turn, the cage is far away.

30th Year Challenge Update

This August on my 30th birthday I made a decision to invoke on a one year challenge. I wanted to do something that would be difficult (for me) and would help me gain a better understanding of my own identity. I decided to go on a consumption protest and not buy clothes for one year. I'd been in a cyclical habit of just buying new clothes with each season and spending money and time I didn't need to spend, chasing ever changing trends. I wanted to step back and examine our society and culture of consumerism and how it had affected my life. I've completed four months of my challenge and thought it was time for an update. Here are some things I've learned:


Embrace imperfection. When I gave up chasing trends I had to accept that my wardrobe might start to feel boring, but I decided not to care. The not caring is such a freeing experience. I've spent too much of my life caring what others think and worrying about how they perceive me. The fact is, imperfection builds character and uniqueness and allows for more creativity. I tend to be a bit clumsy and so far I've ripped and stained several shirts (working with kids doesn't help). At first I'd get really upset about the fact that I couldn't replace the ruined item, but I've learned to let it go and make do with what I have. I'm getting creative with how I wear my wardrobe and pulling out old, long forgotten pieces I haven't worn in ages. It's funny how many compliments I've received about an old dress I probably wouldn't have worn again if it wasn't for this challenge.

Intentionality. I've become much more intentional about how I spend my time and money. Even though my challenge applies specifically to clothes, it's spilled over to other aspects of my life as well. I find myself thinking more about the purchases I make and making sure they're truly necessary. I still go out with friends and on dates with my husband because it's a great way to connect, but I'm less of a compulsive shopper. I've also been more intentional spiritually, spending more time reading and studying the Bible these last few months.

Better habits. Instead of shopping when I have free time, I've been working out. I bought a couple workout videos (Jillian Michels kicks my ass) and have been going on runs more frequently. As a result I'm in better shape and have more money in the bank.

These are a few things I've learned in the last four months of my challenge, I'm sure there will be more revelations to come in the next eight months. I've begun to reprogram the way I think about consumption and I hope the lessons will last a lifetime.

The Heavens, Nature and God

 It's been a long year, full of ups and downs. It has been a year of new experiences, moving into a great old house on almost four acres of beautiful land. A summer at home with the kids spent exploring our new, giant yard and tending our garden and fruit trees, discovering the dozens of flowers that blossomed around our property. Camping for a week with three kids in tow. Turning 30. A bright and golden autumn full of expectations and long walks in the country. It's also been a year of disappointment, broken dreams, lost loved ones and learning that our four-year-old foster son would be leaving us and his sisters to return to his bio parents.

This morning I was standing in my kitchen looking out the window at the frozen land. The cold and the gray felt like it was seeping into my heart and I began to feel depressed. As I stood looking at the dead, winter landscape and thought about the disappointments of the year, I started feeling angry and envisioned setting something on fire or blowing something up so there could a least be some warmth and color in the world. (I frequently have melodramatic daydreams.)  I also debated crawling back into bed, but then I felt a nudge in my spirit like a whisper, "Look closer".  Then I noticed that freezing fog had covered the plants in a thin layer of ice. Instead of going to bed, I decided to go for a walk. I got my camera and braved the 29 degree temperature. I walked around our property realizing that the ice gave the bare trees and brown plants a remarkable beauty, though at first glance they had appeared barren and ugly.

God has a way of using using nature to fill me with a sense of awe and remind me that things aren't always as bad as they seem.

The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature. --Anne Frank

Difficulty + Pain = Beauty

Being a foster parent is the most difficult thing I have ever done. Ever. It's difficult working with the "System" and getting yanked around by people making decisions about the kids that affect our whole family and our quality of life. At times it feels like I don't have control over my own life. I feel trapped by our crazy schedule and the fact that we can't just up and drive out of state to visit family or go on a road trip. It's difficult to be spontaneous and spontaneity is something I value. It's so hard learning how to be a mother of a middle school-er, (help!) a third grader and a four-year-old, when I haven't raised them from infancy. When they're crying because of their past experiences I wish they were babies and I could hold them, rock them and simply shush away the pain.

I came to motherhood non-traditionally, but I've experienced the pain of labor. My labor didn't happen in a hospital, it happened (and is still happening) during countless hours spent in government offices and courtrooms and on my knees before God hoping, praying and advocating for the safety of three amazing children.

Yet, in the midst of, or maybe even because of the difficulty and pain there is beauty.

My life is richer in ways I'd have never known if Josh and I had never taken on the responsibility of being foster parents. I can't take credit for doing something brave, we honestly had no idea what we were getting into and during a temporary lapse of sanity decided to go for it.  I don't regret it. I never would have known the beauty of laying on a grassy hill cuddled together watching shooting stars and the look of awestruck wonder on their faces. Or the triumph of teaching a child to swim and the moment they tame their fears and jump into the deep water. Or the simple, innocent beauty of being loved by a child.

What Is Love?

This is a guest post by my foster kids, Isaiah (4yrs), Rosie (8yrs) and Magda (11yrs).  I asked them to tell me in their own words what love means to them. Here's what they have to say:

Isaiah:

"I love Nora and Cody and Seth and Preston. They're my best friends. I want to share my Batman toys with them".

Rosie:

Magda:

 (She wrote a poem)

Love is something precious you must value always,

There comes a time when love comes around,

so you take it, conceal it while you can,

Love hurts, yet it is a beautiful thing.

So that is love.