My cousin text me the other day, wanting me to write a blog about how life has changed since I became a foster mom...how parenting has changed me.



My Eating Habits
From carefully creating a shopping list, finding  recipes, chopping and organizing meals into matching containers to heated taquitos with peel to open guac and calling it a day. 

From alarms on my phone to remind me to drink my protein shake every few hours to scrounging in the staff room to find four carrots and a pack of Oreos.

My Laundry Habits
Surprisingly have improved!  No time for clothes sitting around knowing that case workers, social workers, and behavior coaches are here several times a week.  Besides, R doesn't have enough socks for me to wait weeks to do laundry so we're on a weekly washing schedule around here.



Me Time
Used to look like hours on my couch, staring at my phone, literally scrolling my life away.  Now, "me time" looks like closing the door to the laundry room to fold, going to the bathroom, and making dinner. 

Exercise Habits
Hiking, treadmills, and HIIT workouts have given way to walks to the park, daily swimming pool visits and running with a scooter.

Love Life
For those who don't know, I've spent the past two years of my life half-way-kinda-sometimes in a relationship with an alcoholic.  I tried to wish the addiction away.  I went to Alanon Meetings. I tried to love him out of it.  I bribed him.  I enabled him.  I sacrificed my happiness.  It kept going and going and I. JUST. COULDN'T. LEAVE. 

Enter this new little man.

Last time he text, it ended with me replying, "Take care," and I. Will. Never. Look. Back. 

The thought of putting this little boy in any sort of situation like made me realize just how stupid I had been to stay in it myself.  (Sidenote: That is not said with any judgement towards anyone in that situation.  It's so hard.  No judgement.  Seriously.)

Cleaning Habits
"It can wait to tomorrow," has been shoved far away for "he's occupied, quick, do some dishes,"

Worries
Less than two months ago, thoughts of a dead relationship, what people thought of me, or whether I had possibly upset someone consumed me.  Now, I worry that he hasn't made neighborhood friends yet, I worry about whether he will use appropriate language when he's out with our friends and I'm not there, whether he will make it all the way through summer school without getting kicked out, if his mom will show up for their next visit, whether I gave him enough hugs that day, or lost my temper with him.  Yes, I worry still. 



Vacations
I used to make long lists for my dog sitter.  Now, I text her and ask if she can come and get ready to show this boy a state he's never seen. 

Discipline
Let me tell you about the parents I have always hated at school-the ones that think their kids can do no wrong.  It's all I can do, every time, to not say, "Umm, your kid was an asshole today.  No, he wasn't innocent and if you don't get on my team, I'm gonna make you both leave.  Stop defending bad behavior." 

Last week: My boss had to deal with the discipline incident my kiddo was involved in and she sat me down and said, "Are you ready Mom?"  I said, "Yeah, what happened?" She said, "R punched -- in the face.  -- said that R was calling him names so he pushed him and then R punched him and put him on the ground."  I kid you not, my first reaction was, "It wasn't his fault. That kid deserved it." 

WHAT?!  Who have I become?! 

What Makes me Sad
Failing relationships, failing relationships, missing my family. 

Now...a blog for another day.  I cry lots of tears-more happy than sad but sometimes this journey is hard and sad and dark...but unlike the quote below my friends know better than to ever say anything like that to me ;)




What Makes me Happy
It used to be...
Time with family and friends and where the scale was and how far I was from that last Botox appointment.  That's real.

I have no idea where the scale it right now.  I haven't seen my friends in weeks but I laughed and smiled more today than I used to in a month...and that's a fact.


My Heart
If you want to make me cry in an instant, ask me how much I love this boy.  "Katie, how can you love him so much in one month especially if you're not even his real parent and you didn't grow him in your belly?"  To that I ask, "Dads, how long did it take for you to fall in love with your new baby?" 
Yes, I am different now.


As always, I adore you for taking the time to read.  Writing is my therapy.  You reading it is my kryptonite.

And so it will be, tomorrow again, another Mother's Day.

It's a day I have come to dread...but it wasn't always that way.  It was Mom's favorite holiday-"a whole day for moms," she would say.  She believed that Moms could, should and did run the world.  She loved that title-quite possibly her favorite title, behind wife.

But then she got sick.  She and my dad called me from the doctor's office and told me to meet them at a restaurant and although it was once a cute little tea room that I loved, it will forever be the place my mom told me she was dying.  Gross.  Stupid.  File under: memories to forget.

That may have been the day I started hating Mother's Day.  Why did all my friends get to celebrate this special day with their mom who wasn't dying?

The past years have held so much pain in this day. I hated everyone who had a mom they became friends with as an adult-a world I would never know, all the while hating all of my friends who "got" to be moms-the only title I ever knew, with absolute certainty, I wanted.

The birth announcement.
The baby shower.
The hospital visit.
The fresh baby smell.
First smiles.
First steps.
First words.
First hugs.

The perfect picture.  I painted it when I was small and it was crystal clear, never wavering...and none of it happened to me.

It was all I wanted.  I spent a lot of moments over the years sad about my circumstances-questioning my worthiness, questioning God, wondering why.



And then one day it all changed and I decided to stop being a victim of my life.  I am in charge of my destiny.  Nobody but me is keeping me from the things I want.



And I came to grips with the conversations people had with me, with the conversations I began having with myself...

Change the picture.
Change the method.
Change the course.

DON'T. CHANGE. THE. GOAL.

And for the first time in twelve years, I will embrace Mother's Day.  I will be forever grateful that I had a mom who taught me the importance of reading books together before bed, making meals, and so many hugs.  Today I will embrace my foster son and all the mixed up emotions that come with him having his first Mother's Day without his mom.  I will read him books.  We will make dinner.  I will hug him tight.

I will celebrate all the firsts, the first that look and feel different but still fill my heart with my joy than I thought it could hold...
The first full cry with big tears, a few weeks ago.
The first time he mimicked our bedtime routine, last week.
The first time he shortened his recovery time, this week.
The first hug that he initiated, yesterday.
The first, "I'm sorry," he wasn't forced to say, today.

The goal never changed, it just looks a little different...and it's every bit as wonderful as I knew it would be.