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.

For all who are following this journey, I feel like I need to answer some questions...

1.  What's his name? 
For social media purposes, his name is R but if and when you meet him, he will happily (and will really try to look you in the eyes while he does it) tell you his name.

2.  Why don't you post his face on Facebook?  
I can't post any identifying characteristics about him, his case, or his family because...privacy laws.

However, that doesn't mean we can't or don't want to get to know people.  He already knows lots of the people in my world and would love to meet more (but only one new meeting a day...as evidenced by the drama that ensued today) (insert wide open eye emoji here)

If you're out with us or comment on things, you can't post his face or his name either, but you can post me-if it's at a good angle and I approve it first ;)

3.  Why did he come into your care in the first place? 
Again, I can't tell you that.  I can tell you this, however...
The Department of Child Safety is in place to keep kids safe.  If the children are safe in their homes, they don't take them from their parents.

That does not mean that they don't have parents who love them.

4.  How long will he be with you?
I. Have. No. Idea.

And it's the hardest part.  I constantly feel myself, already, loving him "too much," treating him "too much" like my own kid.  However, in the words of a very wise seasoned foster mama friend of mine, "We treat them like ours and if they ever are not, we cross that bridge then."  Ok.  Ok but even thinking about him leaving makes my heart break more than the epic meltdown we had today.

5.  (If you're watching us in a grocery store and judging my parenting) Why does he act like that? 
Because trauma and adverse childhood experiences manifest themselves in many different ways in children, and behavior is one of them.  We're working on it...all day, every day and sometimes that's just not enough.

So, feel free to give me liquor...which I will need to store in my locked cabinet along with my nasal spray and Windex.  Ha! #thisisfoster

6.  Did you know this kid before?  Does he go to your school? 
Yes and I can't answer that but he'd be happy to tell you where he goes to school...usually before he tells you his name.

7.  What does he need?  Can you post a list? 
I probably won't get around to making a list because I can't even get around to applying sunscreen to my own body. 

He needs 4 red polo shirts because I'm not going to keep washing WHITE uniform shirts after a 9 year old boy acts like a 9 year old boy.  "Who, who makes white a uniform shirt color," says that Assistant Principal of a school who helps decide uniform colors.  Ha!

He needs Children's Tylenol and, after the rash he broke out in tonight, apparently Children's Benedryl.

He needs a new bedspread and a shower curtain and a few posters for his room to make it more his. 

He needs new toothpaste because he just learned how to brush his teeth for the first time and loves practicing but hasn't really gotten how much toothpaste is necessary yet.

Honestly, I have no idea what need needs besides that.  Every day I think of something new...usually after I've needed it.

Really, what he needs more than anything is patience, love, consistency and understanding...and he needs friends.

Plus, we've received a lot from our tribe!  We love you!

Let me know if you have more questions!  If I can answer them, I will!  If you're sick of these blogs...tough s***.  Just kidding (#notreally)  They are going to keep coming though.

Also, ummm parents?  You have always had all my respect.  But, for real now. You have ALL my respect.  #thisshitisexhausting

"No, no, no, no.  I'm not ready.  What did I just say I would do?  I know this kid.  I know the difficult behaviors he comes with and I just invited them into my home.  I have no idea how to be a parent," and it just kept rolling in my head as I furiously turned the "baby" room into a boy room and dashed off to the store to pick up more "kid food" while pulling out my phone to call the case worker back and tell her I had made a mistake. I was just spinning in my head when I got a text from an old friend whose words always have an innate ability to bring me to tears or change my actions on the spot,


And the checker at the counter looked at me with eyes that said, "I'm not sure why this shredded cheese is making you cry, but maybe you shouldn't be shopping right now?"

I took a deep breath, decided not to call and cancel my request for this kiddo and just kept reading that text.  I've done this a hundred times.  I got this.

And then it unfolded like a scene from a movie...

9:30 pm: Knock on the door and I answer to two DCS workers with a terrified little boy in front of them, holding a pillowcase full of his things.  My eyes immediately got hot with tears and a golf ball swelled up in my throat-both of which I forced myself to swallow back.  Why, why had this little boy been through so much in a short time?  He had buried himself in his clothes as if to try and shield him from the pain of this day and so many that came before it.  I said, "Hey Baby.  I'm so happy to see you.  Come here.  I've missed you so much," and into my arms he came. 

As the dutiful blog reading direction follower that I am, I had a movie playing and cookies fresh out of the oven-neither of which were very interesting to him.  He got to know the dog and talked a mile a minute while I tried to fill out paperwork with the DCS workers.  As he fixed his eyes on the screen for a few minutes, I said to the women, "Is this how late you always work?  You have a hard job.  I thought I had a hard job."

They said, "No, you have a hard job and today's transition was one of the most difficult ones with him.  There were so many tears but when we told him where he was going, he was so happy.  I do these transitions for a living and I have NEVER seen that.  I almost lost it.  I have never seen a kid go into someone's arms like he just did."

And I was reminded...
for all the times I fail,
for every step I feel that I'm behind in life,
for all the qualities I don't have,

This. 

This is what I was made to do.
Loving on tough kids in tough times.

Hard love.
Tough love.
All the love.

Bring it Baby.  

And as I tucked this sweet boy, who I was already in love with, into bed in his new room, he chose, I Wish You More as our first book book on our first night.  He read to me and when he finished I kissed him on the top of his head a tear fell from my eyes and landed on his hair.

For as many days as we're together or apart, I will always wish you more sweet baby.  

The crib sheets are washed in the most delicate soap.  The pack-n-play is set up-with each piece neatly in place.  There is room for baby with all extra stuff off to the donation center.  The floors have been waxed in anticipation of not having time for that later.  The car seat is installed to keep precious cargo safe.  Blankets and clothes and diapers in many sizes have been folded and put away with so much love...

and the baby came early
and she seems healthy
and looks beautiful

and she is headed off to her wonderful forever family,
which will not be with me.

The answer to every question you're asking is, "Yes."

Yes I'm heartbroken.
Yes I am grieving a child I never had.
Yes I'm embarrassed.
Yes I'm learning that this is foster care.
Yes I will stand back up.
Yes I'm going to keep going.
Yes I will get my baby someday soon.
Yes I will continue to be all in.

In an effort to document every step of this journey, I'm writing a blog...

I have started the foster licensing process because I have been thinking about it for quite a while and a particular situation has arisen where a baby, who will be born in the beginning of April can't stay with his/her (I don't know if it's a boy or girl yet) parents and I'm first on the list as kinship placement*.  

FYI, this baby does not belong to my brother or anyone in my immediate family.

If that's the case and I'm offered the baby, I would take him/her, and then if parental rights were severed, I would apply to adopt the baby.  



*Because of privacy laws, that's really all I can say right now I think.


Answers to Your Questions
You're gonna have a baby in less than two months?
If all goes as planned, yes.

Why are you sharing this now?
Because I always share and I figure, if you know, you'll send all your positive energy my way and I want it all!

When will you know if you get the baby?
When they call me and say, there's a baby here, come and pick him/her up or I'm dropping him/her off.

Oh my gosh, so how do you prepare?
Well, it's tricky.  I have to be ready to have a newborn in my home because I'll literally have a few hours between the phone call and the time I get him/her.

At the same time, while I'm pretty sure this is going to happen, there are no guarantees.

Also, I have a lot of people praying for me right now but could use as many prayers and positive thoughts as I can get.

Are you excited?
So very, very excited.

Are you nervous it might not happen?  
A little bit...but I'm more nervous that it will and I'll have a newborn in less than two months.  




Are you second guessing your decision? 
You know when something just feels right?  Like, when every single bone in your body is telling you it's what you need to be doing?  I'm there.  No second guessing.  Not for a second.

Should you make sure you don't get "too excited" about this in case it doesn't happen?
No.  That's never how I live my life.  When I want something, I go all in and if it happens to not happen, I won't be any less sad that I would have been if I had pretended it might not happen.

Working with kids at school and having kids of your own is very different. 
That's not a question there Ace.

And, also, I know!  There's no cafeteria to cook for my kid at home.  Maybe I can just keep him/her at school and run them through the lunch line?

Don't you want to have "your own" baby?
If by "my own" you mean would I like to be pregnant someday. My answer is, "Sure."  That is something I have always envisioned for myself and that hasn't changed.  If by "my own," you mean a kid that feels more "real" than this baby coming, I say...


What if the parents take the baby back? 
That would be devastating and hard but it would also mean they've done an extraordinary amount of work to make that happen.



Things you're saying behind my back:  
Kids born addicted to drugs could have big problems.  They can have health problems or behavioral problems. 
I know.

I don't think she really understands what she's taking on. 
Maybe not but what do we do when that happens?  We figure it out.

Wow.  I would never.
That's ok.  You don't have to ;)

Words for you:
To the people who are scared for me: 
Don't be scared.  I'm a thinker, a researcher, a lover, a planner, and a very strong woman.  Best of all, I am blessed to have an army of people in my tribe who good, bad, or ugly, support me and that's what we always need right?  To be wrapped up in love no matter what.

To the people who are proud of me: 
Don't be.  My decision is selfish and giving, perhaps, in equal measures.

To the people who are excited for me.
Yes. Be that.

4 months.
4 months, numerous glasses of wine, and a new school later, I'm ready to write this blog.

On my last day at Loma Linda, I got a box.  My Leadership team had planned a good-bye breakfast for me, and as my teachers streamed through, I got a thousand hugs and wiped my eyes for the thirtieth time that day.  Sad and grateful. 

I thought that was it and then my friend said, "Did you open the box?  You're going to love it."

Inside it was filled with letters from the people I have worked for years, and it was one of the best gifts I have ever received.  Heartfelt letters from teachers, my teachers that gave me way more praise than I ever deserved.

They told me I changed them, they said thank you for the years of hard and good conversations and that they will always be grateful that I made them feel successful, and I don't think I ever told them...

You changed me too. 

I started this job, as I start all jobs, terrible.

I very quickly learned that being a great teacher did not equal a great coach.  Even though I was terrible, I wanted to be better. 

So I watched. 

I watched their body language change when I was directing or giving advice to when I was truly listening to them and dialoging with them and not at them.  I listened to what they said about their days and made mental notes of how to support them through that tough month when everyone questions their career choice.  I researched the best ways to support these people who found their ways into my heart. 



Together, we learned from one another. 

These Loma Linda teachers taught me, over and over, how to be a better coach and a better person.  They have forever changed the trajectory of my career and the way I relate to my teachers. Thank you will never be enough. 

When I left Excelencia, I thought I would never love kids the way I loved those kids.  I didn't think I'd ever connect with teachers the way I connected with those colleagues...and then I did.  One teacher. One conversation at a time.  One laugh. One tear...at a time. 



And today, when I open that box for the tenth time, I am reminded just how much these people impacted my life. 

It was a very special time in a very special place that we built together.  It wasn't a job, it was home.  Thank you for making it just that.


And when they ask where I learned what I know, I tell them...it was from some phenomenal teachers who did whatever it took every single day.  Cheers to those teachers.  May you always know your worth and the way you are changing lives each day.  It was an honor to learn alongside you my teachers, my friends.

And may the next journey be just as sweet.