Baby, it's cold outside

I am not complaining about the cold. Really, I am not. However, I did see some upsetting and ridiculous situations this morning that I need to log here because they are so wrong. Let me set the stage for you. When my husband lovingly encouraged, or rather pushed, me out of bed this morning. I took time to make sure all the kids had warm clothes to wear before even venturing downstairs to glance unwillingly at the thermometer. -3. Stupendous. Thankfully my afore mentioned dear hubby has Wednesdays off so we didn't have to transport all five kids this morning, just the older two. So, I do my normal yell while clapping along with all the words "Hats! Coats! Gloves! Boots! Let's Go!" Is this what every mom's morning is like? Seriously, winter used to be my favorite season until the myriad of outerwear showed up in the form of single gloves and hats that don't really fit anybody anymore, but we hang on to them 'just in case.' Back to my observations. The truck shuttles us to school and on the way I only have to tell the kids to "hang on" once. The conversation is actually quite light and bubbly, a welcome change from the normal cries of "Mommy! She said I said, but I didn't say" and so on. We make the circle in the school parking lot and wait our turn to drop off. As we are waiting I see children in approximately every other vehicle emerge without hat or gloves. In their defense (insert sarcasm) it is 1 degree above zero in town. I drop the big kids off and make my way slowly (pretending I'm on vacation) to the Dollar General. What could I possibly see that bothered me at the Dollar General? A display outside. Of what? Well, thank you for asking. It is a pallet of soda. Specifically a few 12 packs of Pepsi Throwback. I think I actually felt sorry for the Pepsi. (Pepsi and I do have sort of an inappropriate relationship. Unrequited love, maybe. I LOVE Pepsi.) I did mention that it's cold outside? Like the high for today and tomorrow is forecasted to be 13 degrees. I'm all for ice cold beverages, but this may be a little bit overboard. Thinking I have seen it all for today, I make my way to the sanity of my truck. I look across the parking lot knowing what I will see before I see it from the tell tale sound. Brace yourself. Someone. Was Washing. Their car. Um, are you kidding me? I considered sticking around to watch this misguided clean freak try to open their car door when they were done, but decided it wouldn't be polite. I climbed in my truck and decided I better head home before I saw someone wearing flip flops.

I'm a pro

I never thought I would be that mom who had all sorts of kids in her house all the time and never seemed to mind. I guess I'm not exactly her these days, but I find myself having more and more in common with her. Maybe it comes from the fact I would rather have my kids' friends come here than send my kids away from me. Or, seeming like the beginning of a cycle, it could be because we have built in playmates already here for the overwhelming number of single children.Could it be my calling? I have read stories of ministers and missionaries that start out with 'if you would have told me ten years ago that I would be doing this....' indicating that their path in life has taken dramatic detours from the route they had mapped out. That is certainly where I am. When I was my daughter's age, I was going to be a pediatrician and have a stay-at-home husband to raise my kids for me. I would certainly blush profusely if my husband knew that was my dream. Of course, things change, and eventually I just wanted to be a wife and mother and didn't really have any career goals. I am exactly that, although, according to the county we foster in, we are 'Professional Parents.' Who on earth thought up that term? I'm not even sure how I should be dressed when I hear myself referred to that. Business suit? Slacks and blouse? Ripped sweats and hubby's old t-shirt? Not a clue. What I do know, validated by our pastor's recent sermon, is that this is my calling for right now, and God will give me the strength to endure.

I don't understand

I just don't understand how people can not be with their kids. I'm not talking like a night out with the hubby or even a week long business trip-which both of these still bother me immensely. I mean when your children are pulled from you and place in foster care, how can you not change every.single.thing in your life to get them back? Why do these parents use it as free daycare? How can a woman go out every weekend with her friends while her husband is home taking care of their sick child? I dread the day that I am not sitting at the kitchen table listening to my kids play school or sing karaoke while the cat and dog wander around amongst them. I simply cannot imagine it. And, yet, I have a baby that is not mine calling me "mama" because her mama is too busy being young to bother with her.

Do you ever have one of those days? I got to the end of our road this morning and there wasn't any traffic. I had a sudden moment of panic and checked the clock to make sure I was taking the kids to school at the right time. As we are pulling into the school, I remember suddenly that I didn't write an excuse for Sarah being absent yesterday. Thankfully traffic was moving very slowly this morning. Probably something to do with the fact that it was fifteen degrees outside. So, I rooted around my magic purse and found a pink marker and a piece of paper and took care of business. Off Sarah and Kyle went to a wonderful day of learning and off to the grocery store went the baby and the two medium girls (so dubbed this by Megan who is NOT the little girl anymore, but is also not the big girl, so she and L are medium girls) and I. Hoping to get just a few things, I naturally emerged with more than a cart load full of groceries. A nice gentlemen even helped me arrange my Pepsi bottles (mama needs caffeine) on the bottom of the cart. In the parking lot, I loaded the girls in the truck and deftly balance the hatch of my Ford Excursion -I love my truck! -on my head (because the struts are bad) and load the groceries. We stop off to take lunch to Daddy and while there remember that we forgot Q-tips. So I load everybody back in the bus. Have I mentioned the girls can't buckle their five point harnesses with mittens on, so I unashamedly stick my rear end toward the open door while buckling the third row? Off to Rite Aid. Megan panics when we get there because she can't find her hat. I promise we'll got back to Daddy's store to get it. We cruise the aisles looking for deals and end up with the store brand equivalent of Q-tips because the were way cheaper than the others. Hopefully they will do. Back up to Daddy's store to retrieve the hat, and since Goodwill is now open, we might as well go there, right? So glad I did. It wasn't my best bargain day, but I got a nice haul. A coffee cup (not that we drink coffee) with a Coca-Cola NASCAR race theme on it, a bicycle helmet for L, Children's Place clogs for J, a Hello Kitty purse for L, a lunch box for Megan (kindergarten registrations looms in the too near future), a pair of Comfort Waist Lee slacks for me (!), the new Logo Board Game that I wanted for Christmas, a Nora Roberts book, an unopened book on CD by Sara Evans, and a children's book "Ladybug Girl Dresses Up" to give to my cousin's daughter because the main character is Lulu and the little girls nickname is the same because of her initials. All this inside a very nice, built to be on your hip, blue to match my washer and dryer, laundry basket. For the bargain price of $22 and some odd change. Not too shabby.After Goodwill, I try to scrounge enough change to run up to the car wash and rinse of the truck, but I can only find $1.50. I even ask the medium girls if they have and money. L has two dimes. I check the floor, my purse, every nook and cranny. The truck is still dirty. Now we are home and they have eaten. J is going to head upstairs for a nap and the girls are going to color. Mommy is going to make some camping reservations for Mother's day weekend and shop online for a toy hauler. I can dream, can't I? Soon the older kids will be home and it will be time for Sarah's basketball practice, supper, and the bedtime routine. Evenings go by fast theses days.

Let me share my week with you. Sit back and relax, this may take a while.

Monday: New Year's eve. It was also my son's 8th birthday. Take it from me, don't have babies on holidays. I planned his birthday late afternoon so not to interfere with party plans and as a reward, seven people showed up. At my girls' party, we had about 40. So, four people came late with snacks to ring in 2013 with us, so it turned out to be a fun night. Everyone stayed up until midnight (except the baby) and we had a great time playing Guitar Hero.

Tuesday: Nothing rouses mom out of bed faster than her oldest yelling "Mommy! Megan just threw up!" I send her to bed for a while and she claims to be fine. There was a lot of phlegm in the pile, so, thinking it was an isolated incident, I let her come downstairs. And, on cue, 30 seconds later she vomits all over the floor. Thank goodness it was the kitchen-no carpet. She goes back to bed and sleeps the day away. I nibble my fingernails down to nothing (not really, that is a disgusting habit) worrying about the other four kids in the house. I am one of those moms who cannot clean up 'the mess' without gagging herself. Great character quality, I know.

Wednesday: Back to school for Sarah and Kyle! It was rough getting everyone up and out the door on time, but apparently we weren't the only ones because traffic was crazy at the school when we were dropping off. Then it was off to the doctor's office for J's one year immunizations. Arguing with the receptionist that I could not have my contact info in her files, and seeing 2 nurses, a nurse practitioner, and someone else who introduced herself as Emily (still not sure of her title, but seemed to be the one in charge), I tried to explain to each and every person how bad J's temper tantrums are, and all they could say was "She's so cute!" Ugh. I did get a second med discontinued, and working on the third, so that was a bonus. 45 minutes and four shots later, we were off to the agency to drop off J and L so they could have a visit with their mom. Megan and I came home and did some picking up until the case aide brought them back with more makeup. We know have approximately 30 lip glosses, 15 bottles of nail polish, a bottle of real perfume, and 15 eye shadows for a 4 year old. Not happening here, so they are all packed away.

Thursday: I got up late, but we still got everyone out the door on time. Sarah and Kyle dropped off at school, and then Megan, L, J, and I head to church for MOPS. I look forward to these days! Free childcare, good food and  great fellowship with some mamas that I never would have dreamt had anything in common with me. Because I take the kids to school every day and we live out of town, I just wait in the parking lot until someone opens the church, and then we go in where it's warm! We went in and I was chatting with my dad's cousin (which makes her my second cousin, I think. Anyway, a cousin) when Megan begins a meltdown about needing a drink. I go over and lift her up to the water fountain where she takes a sip, set her down and pick up L, when Megan says "Mommy, look!" You guessed it. She puked all over the floor her boots, and her book bag. Seriously? So Clara Ann and I clean it up quickly, I repack all three girls and we head home. She really was fine after that, I'm not sure what it was all about, but we lived through it. Since it was Thursday, that means Sarah has basketball practice form 4:30-6. Thank goodness my mom volunteered to watch the other kids since my husband was helping my uncle and cousin at their house site. They had a devastating fire a few months ago and they are beginning to rebuild. So off to town Sarah and I go while mom is home with the other four. I drop Sarah off since she's too big for me to walk her in, and head to the grocery store to pick up a couple things and WIC for J and L. I take the side street like I always do, only tonight, some woman decided she was more important than I was and didn't wait for me at the corner, which forced me into a snow pile that hadn't been cleared on the side of the street. It was quite deep and I was spinning in four wheel drive for a while. Great. I rocked it back and forth and got out. I made it to the grocery store and  thought I had the details all under control this month, but low and behold, you cannot buy and 8.9 ounce box of Cheerios with WIC. You are allotted 36 ounces of cereal, and the girls like Rice Chex, but that box in 12.9 ounces, so I got another 12 ounce box of something and the smaller box of Cheerios. It's a no go.  So, I had to run back to get a different box, when to my dismay, I find that there is no 12 ounce box of Cheerios, the next size is 14 ounces. So I get two boxes of Kix. Three people left the line behind me, one even took the time to take her entire order off the belt and repack it in her cart to go to a different line. I need a sign that says "Pick a different line, this is going to take a while."
Finally I get through the line and head back to the school to pick up Sarah. I place a quick call home to see if the honey can start dinner, but Kyle answers and tells me Daddy isn't home yet, and can I PLEASE bring home pizza. Begrudgingly I did, sometimes it is the only option to eat and get the kids to bed on time. We had a VERY hard evening with J, and it left us both feeling very defeated.

Friday: Got up really late this morning, but thankfully the hubby was going in to work late, so he could take the kids to school. We got the boxes down from the attic so we could start taking care of the Christmas decorations. I'm ready to get my house back! I called Foster Care this morning and think I made it clear this time that I need some sort of help with J. Her fits are causing stress in our marriage and can't be making her very happy either. She advises she will call the caseworker and see what can be done. This upsets Aaron and he goes into a frustrated rant about they ask for help with these kids and we answer that by accepting them into our home, but when we need help, we can't get it. The caseworker we have now is very young and doesn't have children, and I am to rely on her to help me with a behavioral issue? How is that going to work. So we realize that once again that we are on our own. When he gets to work, he then calls to tell me that his overnight meeting next week that was supposed to be three hours from here, is now 7 hours and the 13 managers are expected to drive down together in a 15 passenger van. Sounds reasonable until you factor in that three of them are over 400 pounds, and they will all have a bag, and a pile of paper as they are required to take 20 reports with them. And with the time it takes to travel, he will have to leave home at 1:30 am. He will be nice and alert for the meeting. Not to mention he is leaving me home with 5 kids and then he'll be a bear when he gets home 2 1/2 days later because he will be so tired. He also said his regional manager is pushing for them to work six days and 60 hours a week on salary. Um, no way will we go for that.

Saturday: I am in the bathroom curling my hair since I cut it myself last night, when I hear a knock at the door. "Mommy, L threw up in her bed last night." Great. Closer inspection shows that J did, too. Baths and laundry all around. Grape juice for Sarah and Kyle, since a friend pinned that as a deterrent for the stomach bug on Pinterest. My mom took Sarah to her basketball game and Kyle went along to show family support. When they get back, Kyle hands me the red flag off of our mailbox, and Sarah has a pile of wet envelopes. Hooray! (insert sarcastic eye rolling here) I jump in my mom's van to go down to the end of the driveway (yes it is that long) to take a look. We pick up the rest of the pieces we find, snap a couple of pictures, and find two more envelopes with important documents in them. I call Aaron at work to let him know what happened. There are only two stores in town he could buy a mailbox, and one is closed and the other is very overpriced, so it looks like I will be figuring something out on Monday. Once L is feeling better, the kids all get dressed and go outside to play leaving me inside with J to work on some signs and words and anything but screaming.

Today: Aaron is sort of sick. He hasn't actually vomited, but doesn't feel good at all. He went to work, but is going to call someone else in so he can come home. I 'slept' on the couch last night, so I am very tired still. Our heat isn't working properly, so we are all wearing warm clothes and I turn the gas fireplace on intermittently. I have a cold coming on I think, but am attributing not getting the stomach bug to my taking apple cider vinegar tablets twice a day, but we'll see if that holds true...

Even though it has been a very stressful week, I still thank God that we are healthy overall, and we have each other. Mama could still use a nap, though.

Frustration

I am drowning in self-pity today. Life is always a series of ups and downs, but when that pattern repeats itself multiple times an a very short span, it not only looks a little bumpy if drawn out, but it feels bumpy. How can I go from laugh to near tears to prayerful desperation to supermom all in about two minutes, and not feel like someone is deliberately rocking the boat. I am learning quickly that the need for foster parents is great, and the respect of my peers is mostly positive, but the support we get from those who are supposed to be helping the children is less than stellar. For example: a caseworker 'yanks' the kids, and contacts foster care. Foster care then secures a home for the kids. The foster parents get the call, and in our case have a very brief (because they give you about 5 minutes to decide the future of your family without any history of these kids other than their sex and approximate age) conversation, a quick prayer, a mental count of how many empty seats we have left in the truck, and then we accept. The kids are then brought to us with usually nothing or very close to it. The bottle in their mouth, and maybe a coat. The caseworkers stay about 5 minutes and we don't hear from them again for a few days. Now, after repeated phone calls, telling the same story to countless 'professionals,' my desperate plea for assistance with J's unbearable screeching when she doesn't have her way has been answered. Sort of. The (new) caseworker and her supervisor, who have been on the case for a whopping 6 days are coming tomorrow to 'observe and discuss' what we can do. Yep, they will have even less information on the situation than I do-even when most of the information I have is a copy of the court documents, not from anything the caseworkers have shared as pertinent information. I'm sure J will be a perfect angel while they are here, and once again these women will react like everyone else: give me a pat on the back and telling me it will take time.