Thing 1 is obsessed with trains. Seriously. Any time he saw one, it was a big huge excited exclamation, "Oh Mommy!! A TRAIN!!" In the first full week they were with us, we had tried to go to the Train Museum in Old Sacramento. That was a full on bust. They couldn't climb on the trains, they didn't move and they didn't make any noise.
The Old Sacramento Train begins running in April, so we planned a big surprise trip to to that, and to go to the several kid-centric stores in Old Sac. We drove down, and I let them watch music videos on my phone. Their favorite was What Does the Fox Say? while James and I were partial to Phillip Phillips' Home.
When we arrived, we sat them down to tell them what we were about to do. We had learned that we couldn't tell Thing 1 our plans too early or he would obsess, so we waited until we were just about 30 minutes from departure time. At first he was confused. We tried to pump him up, explain that he would be riding a "REAL Train." Finally, we were waiting in line for our tickets when it clicked for him. He started dancing and singing, "Riding a train, uh, ride a train, riding a train..." It was really funny.
We enjoyed the train ride immensely, except that it wasn't going nearly fast enough for him. Thing 2 enjoyed it too, for the most part. He would have liked it more if I'd let him climb over and under all of the seats to his hearts content; I would not.
After the train, we stopped at the candy store, the kite store, and the costume shop. Then we went to lunch. Their good behavior was wearing thin at this point, so we opted to skip the other stops we had considered, including the zoo. That was just too much for one day, and it was a long drive home. We did stop along the way to have some ice cream. It was a really fantastic family event.
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Epiphany
We had just sent some photos to the boys' Oregon family via email. They'd asked for an update.
I was daydreaming in the car on the way home for lunch a few days later. Listening to the radio, and I glanced back into the back seat and saw the car seats. Out of nowhere, I imagined buckling those car seats into someone else's car, strapping the boys in, and saying goodbye. Closing the doors of someone else's car with MY boys inside.
My boys. My. Boys.
My stomach lurched, and I pulled over to the side of the road for a minute, surprised that I was about to cry. When I got it together, I drove the rest of the way home and told James what had happened. I said that I couldn't let them go. He started to grin..."I knew it. I knew you weren't going to be able to let them go." Despite everything that had gone on for the past 2 months, despite my assertions that going to be with biological family would be the most beneficial solution, despite my earlier feelings of despair, they had become my kids and I loved them. We were making a difference--Thing 1 rarely had a tantrum anymore, Thing 2 was speaking more and more and hadn't run from us in weeks. We were really making progress.
I called my mom. She too said, "yup, I knew you weren't going to give them back." My sister said the same thing. Am I so predictable, so transparent that everyone knew that about me but me?
We informed the social workers, who let the Oregon family know. They weren't upset--they were planning to take them out of obligation, but they were nearly done raising kids and weren't looking forward to starting again.
I was daydreaming in the car on the way home for lunch a few days later. Listening to the radio, and I glanced back into the back seat and saw the car seats. Out of nowhere, I imagined buckling those car seats into someone else's car, strapping the boys in, and saying goodbye. Closing the doors of someone else's car with MY boys inside.
My boys. My. Boys.
My stomach lurched, and I pulled over to the side of the road for a minute, surprised that I was about to cry. When I got it together, I drove the rest of the way home and told James what had happened. I said that I couldn't let them go. He started to grin..."I knew it. I knew you weren't going to be able to let them go." Despite everything that had gone on for the past 2 months, despite my assertions that going to be with biological family would be the most beneficial solution, despite my earlier feelings of despair, they had become my kids and I loved them. We were making a difference--Thing 1 rarely had a tantrum anymore, Thing 2 was speaking more and more and hadn't run from us in weeks. We were really making progress.
I called my mom. She too said, "yup, I knew you weren't going to give them back." My sister said the same thing. Am I so predictable, so transparent that everyone knew that about me but me?
We informed the social workers, who let the Oregon family know. They weren't upset--they were planning to take them out of obligation, but they were nearly done raising kids and weren't looking forward to starting again.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Birthday Party at the Gymnastics Studio
Our friends' daughters celebrated their 5th and 7th birthdays together at the local gymnastics studio. It was a place we hadn't even heard of and we had some expectations that we would likely leave early due to meltdowns. We were hopeful, though, because the boys did like active play so much and this place has trampolines, bars, and a foam pit.
We arrived and removed their shoes. It was like a little kid wonderland. They could climb, swing, jump, tumble and yell all they wanted. This was their dream space. Despite the soundtrack from Frozen blaring in the background, this was quite possibly one of the very best days we had had together.
The boys needed a lot more direction than the other kids, obviously. Thing 2 completely refused to take turns, so I spent most of my time at the activity he liked best, swinging from the big rope, keeping the peace--and often holding him while he screamed and kicked because he needed to wait his turn.
And Thing 1 had a great time. He didn't feel as much like a weird outsider when they had these organized activities to do. He had to be reminded of the rules repeatedly, but he could do everything in the room quite well (they are both very strong).
We arrived and removed their shoes. It was like a little kid wonderland. They could climb, swing, jump, tumble and yell all they wanted. This was their dream space. Despite the soundtrack from Frozen blaring in the background, this was quite possibly one of the very best days we had had together.
The boys needed a lot more direction than the other kids, obviously. Thing 2 completely refused to take turns, so I spent most of my time at the activity he liked best, swinging from the big rope, keeping the peace--and often holding him while he screamed and kicked because he needed to wait his turn.
And Thing 1 had a great time. He didn't feel as much like a weird outsider when they had these organized activities to do. He had to be reminded of the rules repeatedly, but he could do everything in the room quite well (they are both very strong).
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Bikes, and keeping our expectations in check.
You know how you buy someone the perfect present, something you are sure they will love, and you imagine their reaction? The excitement, the delight that you had gotten something so totally cool for them? If you have foster kids, be prepared to dial it back.
We started considering getting them bikes/trikes around the end of February, since they had started noticing them. Thing 1 routinely mentioned the bike and scooter he'd had at Aunty's. We ordered a 2 wheeler with training wheels for the very tall Mr. Thing 1 and a Ninja Turtle (Minger Tootools) Big Wheel for Thing 2. When they arrived I put them together in the basement after they went to bed. We then smuggled them upstairs and outside along with their new helmets and the next day told them we had a surprise for them, got them in jackets and shoes and took them to the patio.
They ran out, and both went for the Big Wheel. We redirected Thing 1 to the "big boy bike," which he checked out for a moment, then said "where's the surprise?" Uh, okay. So once he figured out that the bike was a surprise, we put him on it. He couldn't work it, which we figured would be the case, but he got frustrated immediately, since he was watching his brother use the Big Wheel very successfully, plus realizing that it had sounds and a toy CB radio. Crash. And. Burn.
No amount of coaxing would get him to focus and learn to use his bike. We finally had to put the bikes away after about an hour since every time our backs were turned he would take the Big Wheel from his brother, or coerce him to give it over.
We started considering getting them bikes/trikes around the end of February, since they had started noticing them. Thing 1 routinely mentioned the bike and scooter he'd had at Aunty's. We ordered a 2 wheeler with training wheels for the very tall Mr. Thing 1 and a Ninja Turtle (Minger Tootools) Big Wheel for Thing 2. When they arrived I put them together in the basement after they went to bed. We then smuggled them upstairs and outside along with their new helmets and the next day told them we had a surprise for them, got them in jackets and shoes and took them to the patio.
They ran out, and both went for the Big Wheel. We redirected Thing 1 to the "big boy bike," which he checked out for a moment, then said "where's the surprise?" Uh, okay. So once he figured out that the bike was a surprise, we put him on it. He couldn't work it, which we figured would be the case, but he got frustrated immediately, since he was watching his brother use the Big Wheel very successfully, plus realizing that it had sounds and a toy CB radio. Crash. And. Burn.
No amount of coaxing would get him to focus and learn to use his bike. We finally had to put the bikes away after about an hour since every time our backs were turned he would take the Big Wheel from his brother, or coerce him to give it over.
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Field Trips
We had started a habit of taking drives on the weekend, trips Thing 1 had dubbed "fieldtrips." We got a membership to Natural History Exploration Park, so we took them for the first time to check that out. The park had a huge bridge over the river that you could cross, with large beams, glass floor tiles and such. The boys adored the bridge, we got a really pretty family picture taken by a friend and we all went in. The friends' kids had been to the park before and had their favorite spots, haunts and exhibits. True to form, our kids wigged out about being in a new place. The inside walls of a large portion of the park were made to look like river banks, so up they went, climbing. I spent much of the time either peeling Thing 2 off the walls, or chasing him or crawling under things to drag him out.
Overall they had a good time, but it was definitely evident that they have no experience with or understanding of such things. While we had hoped the trip would wear them out, in reality, we were the ones who were exhausted by the end of it.
Another trip we took was up to a historic gold rush town just north of us. This was more their speed. We didn't bother with the museum as we knew they wouldn't be able to handle it. We let them run through the barns, around on old wagons and such. There was an old, restored general store that they got to check out and the docents were so patient. It helped that, unlike our trip to the exploration park, there were very few visitors so they weren't getting in people's way. We also walked through the ruins of the town and discovered an earth and wood staircase up the hillside, so while James stayed below we went up and explored. This was DEFINITELY their cup of tea--climbing, running and not being told to be quiet...they loved that.
We did trips to the mall in bad weather, since they like the play areas inside, we visited different lakes/rivers to throw rocks. We also went to local parks to burn off energy. Thing 2 could CLIMB...like, really climb. Higher than older kids. At first it made me nervous and I tried to follow him up everywhere he went but I realized that, since he didn't get scared about the heights, he was quite comfortable and stable, and was only really unsafe if I was following him and he felt I was going to pull him down or tell him to get off. Then he got reckless.
Roadtrips were a really lifesaver on weekends when there was no break afforded by Thing 1 going to school. When they were strapped into car seats, they were safe, in our control and relatively happy. I could actually relax.
Overall they had a good time, but it was definitely evident that they have no experience with or understanding of such things. While we had hoped the trip would wear them out, in reality, we were the ones who were exhausted by the end of it.
Another trip we took was up to a historic gold rush town just north of us. This was more their speed. We didn't bother with the museum as we knew they wouldn't be able to handle it. We let them run through the barns, around on old wagons and such. There was an old, restored general store that they got to check out and the docents were so patient. It helped that, unlike our trip to the exploration park, there were very few visitors so they weren't getting in people's way. We also walked through the ruins of the town and discovered an earth and wood staircase up the hillside, so while James stayed below we went up and explored. This was DEFINITELY their cup of tea--climbing, running and not being told to be quiet...they loved that.
We did trips to the mall in bad weather, since they like the play areas inside, we visited different lakes/rivers to throw rocks. We also went to local parks to burn off energy. Thing 2 could CLIMB...like, really climb. Higher than older kids. At first it made me nervous and I tried to follow him up everywhere he went but I realized that, since he didn't get scared about the heights, he was quite comfortable and stable, and was only really unsafe if I was following him and he felt I was going to pull him down or tell him to get off. Then he got reckless.
Roadtrips were a really lifesaver on weekends when there was no break afforded by Thing 1 going to school. When they were strapped into car seats, they were safe, in our control and relatively happy. I could actually relax.
Friday, February 28, 2014
What's in a name?
So, at a visit, the social worker casually mentioned Thing 1 by a nickname that we weren't using for him. Its a child's version of a male name, like Robby for Robert. Well, we'd been calling him by the shortened version (Rob in this example) or the full name. Our Foster Family agency, when we met the kids, called him the full name. We occasionally shortened it to the very abbreviated version, never being corrected by either the social workers we met with or by Thing 1 himself. They were with us for better than 6 weeks by the time we heard this...
You know, if a person has a preferred name, shouldn't that be one of the first things you learn about them?
You know, if a person has a preferred name, shouldn't that be one of the first things you learn about them?
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Hosting a party.
We hosted a birthday party for a friend. Between wrestling Thing 2 off of the various items of furniture and answering the same question for the thousandth time Thing 1 asked, we were cleaning up, making food, and greeting people arriving at the house. By the time people arrived, I was exhausted.
We had adopted a fairly strict household in order to keep them safe. We also had sort of rigidly scheduled the mealtimes, not offering too many snacks. We had noted pretty early on that they were accustomed to eating mostly crackers, chips, fruit, granola bars, etc. They only wanted to drink soda or juice and refused (vehemently) to drink water. We had to eliminate snacks almost completely to get them to eat real meals. They were kind of obsessed with food actually. If any was out (bowl of popcorn, tray of cheese and crackers) they would devour it. They knew virtually all of the fast food places by name but were aghast when I made pizza at home. Any time they saw food, food was mentioned or they were bored or unsure, they wanted to eat.
So for the party I was doling out the snack food and party foods slowly and carefully. That is pretty hard to do when friends with similar age children allow their kids to eat snacks freely. If Thing 1 and Thing 2 didn't want to eat dinner, they would be offered something else at the table of nutritional value, but no snacks or desserts later. Friends kids would refuse to eat, and complain they were hungry later to be given chips and cookies and soda. We basically seemed like jerks because we refused to do that. I was judged pretty harshly that night by the wife of a friend, so much so that I wound up in the bedroom crying.
It is pretty tough having to be the hard-ass parent in a sea of mellow parents. During the first few months of our having the boys, it was very much like I was being judged for every move I made, having my decisions circumvented at every turn by our friends (oh, here have some of this before your mom comes back. no, its okay, you can go ahead and jump on this item of furniture). No matter how many times we explained our kids and their need for structure after a lifetime of none, our friends just assumed we were being assholes. It got to a point where I would rather James left me home alone with the kids, as hard as that was, to go hang out with his friends at their homes. It was hard, I hated it, but at least I didn't feel judged.
But alas, damned if you do and damned if you don't--once I started staying home, people decided that I hated them or that I was being unfriendly. But taking the boys to other people's houses wasn't an option either--they would destroy the place, find the hazards I didn't even think to bar them from, take out every toy they could find and generally get frantic and crazy. And it wasn't like they enjoyed playing with the other kids--the same wife of a friend had everyone over, including our boys. Now in truth, our kids are sort of weirdos. They don't really know how to play with other kids and they are generally hard to play with. But I had to respond to I don't know how many yells of "stop it, go away Thing 1" or "give it back, Thing 2" until at one point I went looking for all of the kids and found that her kids and another friends' kids had barricaded themselves in one of the bedrooms while our boys were left on their own in the other bedroom to play alone. I asked the kids what had happened and the other kids said "we don't want to play with THEM." We went home pretty quickly after that.
It was lonely. Our friends thought we were making up or exaggerating the issues we were having; "that's just kids," "that's what you'd expect from foster kids," "oh, they'll grow out of it." I hated having more people over than the myriad of foster-related visitors we already got, so James and I had our fair share of fights because he felt that I was preventing him from being with his friends. I was destroyed for a while. I came to dread weekends. I mean, I wasn't happy at my job at the time either, and besides trying to work, I was the contact person for all of the medical people, agency people, social workers, and therapists. I was also on call for the crazy stuff that popped up at home, splitting my lunches to take Thing 1 to school and home again...but still work was a relief from the abject terror that was my home life, feeling like I was always doing everything wrong and hating myself.
We had adopted a fairly strict household in order to keep them safe. We also had sort of rigidly scheduled the mealtimes, not offering too many snacks. We had noted pretty early on that they were accustomed to eating mostly crackers, chips, fruit, granola bars, etc. They only wanted to drink soda or juice and refused (vehemently) to drink water. We had to eliminate snacks almost completely to get them to eat real meals. They were kind of obsessed with food actually. If any was out (bowl of popcorn, tray of cheese and crackers) they would devour it. They knew virtually all of the fast food places by name but were aghast when I made pizza at home. Any time they saw food, food was mentioned or they were bored or unsure, they wanted to eat.
So for the party I was doling out the snack food and party foods slowly and carefully. That is pretty hard to do when friends with similar age children allow their kids to eat snacks freely. If Thing 1 and Thing 2 didn't want to eat dinner, they would be offered something else at the table of nutritional value, but no snacks or desserts later. Friends kids would refuse to eat, and complain they were hungry later to be given chips and cookies and soda. We basically seemed like jerks because we refused to do that. I was judged pretty harshly that night by the wife of a friend, so much so that I wound up in the bedroom crying.
It is pretty tough having to be the hard-ass parent in a sea of mellow parents. During the first few months of our having the boys, it was very much like I was being judged for every move I made, having my decisions circumvented at every turn by our friends (oh, here have some of this before your mom comes back. no, its okay, you can go ahead and jump on this item of furniture). No matter how many times we explained our kids and their need for structure after a lifetime of none, our friends just assumed we were being assholes. It got to a point where I would rather James left me home alone with the kids, as hard as that was, to go hang out with his friends at their homes. It was hard, I hated it, but at least I didn't feel judged.
But alas, damned if you do and damned if you don't--once I started staying home, people decided that I hated them or that I was being unfriendly. But taking the boys to other people's houses wasn't an option either--they would destroy the place, find the hazards I didn't even think to bar them from, take out every toy they could find and generally get frantic and crazy. And it wasn't like they enjoyed playing with the other kids--the same wife of a friend had everyone over, including our boys. Now in truth, our kids are sort of weirdos. They don't really know how to play with other kids and they are generally hard to play with. But I had to respond to I don't know how many yells of "stop it, go away Thing 1" or "give it back, Thing 2" until at one point I went looking for all of the kids and found that her kids and another friends' kids had barricaded themselves in one of the bedrooms while our boys were left on their own in the other bedroom to play alone. I asked the kids what had happened and the other kids said "we don't want to play with THEM." We went home pretty quickly after that.
It was lonely. Our friends thought we were making up or exaggerating the issues we were having; "that's just kids," "that's what you'd expect from foster kids," "oh, they'll grow out of it." I hated having more people over than the myriad of foster-related visitors we already got, so James and I had our fair share of fights because he felt that I was preventing him from being with his friends. I was destroyed for a while. I came to dread weekends. I mean, I wasn't happy at my job at the time either, and besides trying to work, I was the contact person for all of the medical people, agency people, social workers, and therapists. I was also on call for the crazy stuff that popped up at home, splitting my lunches to take Thing 1 to school and home again...but still work was a relief from the abject terror that was my home life, feeling like I was always doing everything wrong and hating myself.
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