Meet The Fosters : family

Not the end of the story

TheFosters — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 01:00:00 GMT

Sometimes after you've poured yourself into a thing and there isn't much left to do or say, it's time to move on. I wish I could say that that were the case with Babble. I am sad today because this is our last post. I feel like I had so much more to say about what is happening in our lives and all that is about to happen to our slightly different family. I hadn't intended to end this experience even if and when our wonderful foster son leaves us. There will always be other children in this house of ours--we could never give up on being dads. I think it is a part of who we are now. Even now I am listening to the little man squeal in delight as Darrow is giving him his morning bath.

But we have come to the realization that we truly are foster parents and it's necessary for us to now behave that way. We have been so caught up in being dads that we too often forgot the foster in front of that title. That's not to say we would do anything different with our son. That will never change--we will always be his dads and he will always be our son foster or not. It is the same this morning as it will be twenty years from now. For now though, we are his foster parents and with that comes a legal and ethical commitment. I think what we are about to go through with him will have to be private and not something that can be shared, both for his sake and for his parents' sake.

I was thinking this morning that some of the amazing pictures that we have accumulated over the last several months, I plan to print and frame and hang from our living room wall as a sort of shrine, or maybe a wall to remember the beautiful son that we were allowed to care for. Our lives have changed amazingly over this last year. I expect that the next twelve months will unveil other changes that we could never imagine. We expect to report back sometime in the future because, well, we haven't really finished the story. We have received so many helpful comments and best wishes throughout this time blogging on Babble. I think that is one of the things I will miss the most. It really helped me along at times when I felt like I was going to be overcome by the sadness. Thank you all.

Everyone should realize that there is hope for us--nothing is certain with our foster son. Also we have begun to talk to an adoption agency and just yesterday we were revisiting once again, the possibility of adopting an older kid. There is always hope because there will always be children. We are hopeful daddies who seem to have love just waiting to land on the next little kid(s) that somewhere, forces beyond our control will bring into our lives.

--J

I'm going to put on a diaper and cry

TheFosters — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 02:00:00 GMT

I don’t know how to express this without it sounding a little weird, but here goes. I am needy sometimes. No, that’s not the weird part. And sometimes I want to be cradled and comforted and catered to. It’s true, I would sometimes just like to put on a diaper and cry about everything that I want and maybe just be a baby for a while.

“No, I don’t want to eat my cereal and no I don’t want any juice and no there is nothing you can do to get me to stop crying but I want you to continue to try.”

I have been through a lot lately and I don’t have to be rational, logic or even adult. I would be happy if someone would just pick me up, put their arms around me and rock me for a while. Okay, so that is the weird part. Did I tell you that I have been through a lot lately?

Somewhere along the way to becoming a daddy, I found that there was no more time for me. I don’t get the same attention from me or from my partner, but that is not a complaint, it is a fact—he has less time for me and I for him. The dreaded universe shift has taken hold. The cosmic forces have not only pushed everything out of alignment, they have fundamentally changed the dominant order. Planets that once were the center with all other celestial bodies in orbit are now the orbiters. And our little moon baby has become the sun.

I can’t be anything but a dad now and that’s what I want. But sometimes isn’t it going to be just about me? Can’t I be the center once in while? Why are there so many things to do? Can I have more than the small slice of free time that I get on the weekends—that precious two hours of Ty’s naptime on Saturday and Sunday to do everything and to take care of myself? How does one take care of oneself and partner and this old house and the dogs in such a small span of time? How do the rest of you do it? How do our friends who have two children under the age of three do it? How do Jon and Kate do it with eight? Whaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Now that Darrow and I are talking about number two, I have begun to fear that I shall never have me time ever again. And by me time I don’t mean being able to do household chores or the myriad of other things pulling on my coattails, nagging me around every corner, whispering in my ear, take care of me, and me, no, me next. Noooooooooooooooo!

No, me time is going to a coffee shop for however long I want with my laptop or drawings; taking a bath without plastic ducks floating by; reading a good book on top of the bed that doesn’t rhyme or have farm animals; going to a matinee with a bucket of popcorn and gummy bears that I don’t have to share. Miiiiiiiiiiine!

I know it’s out there—me time. My wonderful partner has offered to give me a break many times. I suppose I should take him up on it next time around. For now what I’ve discovered is that at night after Ty has gone to bed, when my eyelids start to droop, I can slip downstairs to our bedroom and go to sleep—just a little early. Our son has always loved going to bed. And maybe for now during this really crazy period I get to be a baby and have an early bedtime. Then maybe during the day I won’t be whining so much—just like a big baby.

--J

While you sleep

TheFosters — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 02:00:00 GMT

There is almost always someone sleeping in our house. Although there is a rambunctious pre-toddler who waddles everywhere sometimes pulling his wagon or pushing his mower or playschool bus, there is some heavy snoozing going on. Amongst the three dogs the oldest, Mika is typically asleep more than awake. She sleeps a little harder these days, and seems to be less aware of the commotion. But she tends to put herself in the middle of everything so she gets kicked more often than any of the dogs. We have been teaching Ty about doggie feet, that they aren't to be run over, stepped on or otherwise met with any kind of blunt force or trauma. For the first time yesterday, I saw him approaching Mika who was characteristically stretched out in the doorway to the kitchen, and maneuver his little wagon completely around her. Given her location I was impressed that he was so adept at avoiding her given that he didn't have much clearance to get through the doorway.

Milo also likes to sleep but demands comfort. Rarely will he stretch out on the bare floor or even the carpet. He requires a doggy bed or pillow when napping or sleeping at night. Seeing what a big brut of a dog he appears to be, it has always been a little endearing to see him whine at us and yawn in our faces to let us know that either the door is closed to our bedroom where his bed is, or worse that someone else has commandeered his pillow. Milo sleeps like we all wish we could: deeply, soundly, peacefully all the time. He is the only dog I know who will get excited when it's time to go to bed. He gets giddy when you cover him up completely in his doggy blankets. He absolutely loves to sleep next to us when we lay on the floor or with Rocky when they will curl up together on one little pillow when the weather gets cold. We will never understand how this wonderful dog ever made it as a stray, wondering the streets of a rural county in Maryland. He was destined to live a comfortable life in our home.

Then there is Rocky. This best friend to Ty and the sweetest and most affectionate of all, sleeps only as needed. He is otherwise on constant alert-someone, some dog, something has passed our house and he must bark. A leaf has fallen from a tree, a paper has rustled down the street, he must run to see what has happened. He is exhausting to watch, perpetually pesky, and loving to a fault. Rocky sleeps anywhere and only out of necessity. He goes and goes and goes until there is nothing left and this spent dog collapses.

When Ty came to us he loved to sleep. In fact he has slept though the night nearly every one of the last 305 nights that he has been under our roof. At first he was going down at all kinds of crazy hours: ten o'clock, midnight, eleven-thirty. After the first week he settled down to an eight o'clock bedtime. Those few times when he would wake in the night because he was sick, I would sit in the chair in our room while everyone else was asleep--Darrow and the dogs softly snoring--and rub his back as he slowly fell back asleep while on my chest. I think it is one of the most peaceful things I have ever experienced. It doesn't happen quite as often now that he is bigger, but when he is really tired he will still begin night-night time with his head down on my shoulder as I am hoisting him up the stairs to his bedroom.

There have been a few times when Darrow and Ty have gone down together for a nap. You can tell that there is some real parent-child bonding going on when they can enjoy one of their favorite pastimes together. And though it doesn't happen often, just every once in a while I am coerced into taking one too.

Friday - a Much Needed Break

TheFosters — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 02:00:00 GMT

There are times when I feel like we are in constant motion. From sun-up until sun-down, we are either doing or on our way to doing. Weekdays are when I feel this way the most. Saturdays and Sundays are their own special brand of Do Do Do!...Go Go Go!

Monday through Friday mornings are a combination of practiced choreography and pure happenstance. Juan gets up every morning just before 5. If the weather permits and I’m not feeling particularly unmotivated, I get up for a run. That’s my new/reborn effort to stay in shape. While I'm out running - a questionable description of what I actually do - Juan gets himself ready for work and takes care of the three dogs. After years of being a dog-owner, I'm still amazed that they willingly eat so early in the morning. If I were a dog, I'd like to not have to think about food the moment I wake up. Anyways, by 5:30 Juan is ready to leave for his train, which is my signal to wrap up my run. Like relay-team members passing the baton, I arrive - panting and wheezing - as Juan grabs his bag and keys and heads for the front door. That brief moment is often my first good look at him of the day.

While I get ready for work, I creep around the house, trying not to disturb Ty. The dogs, being very un-cat-like, don’t creep . Mika, Milo, and Rocky are a noisy crew. They bark at everything and everyone passing by the house, especially anyone walking another dog. So, invariably, Ty wakes up before I’m ready to deal with him. I try to squeeze in a shower while he’s in the Chatter Phase in his crib. The Chatter Phase phase is the one that comes just before the full-on Crying and Screaming Phase. As of late, when Ty wakes up, he spends the first few moments hanging out in his crib, content to chatter away with himself and his stuffed animals. The Crying and Screaming Phase comes later, when Ty has decided way too much time has passed with no attention from his dads. He's usually up by 6:15 or so. If the Gods smile upon me, Ty sometimes makes it to 7. That usually gives me time to cook a meal for the week ahead or take a stab at a sentence or two for a blog post. I find myself using a lot of morning time and weekends to cook. So far, it has been a great way to get ahead of the game when it comes to having meals ready. Neither one of has time to even think about making dinner after work.

The rest of the morning, before Ty and I make our 7:30 dash to daycare, is a mash-up of getting dressed, making breakfast, packing Ty’s lunch, playing outside, and taking the dogs out for one last opportunity for relief before I head to work. If we’ve got enough time, Ty and I will sit on the front step and hang out for a bit. He's been pleased with his sitting capabilities lately and likes to practice sitting down every time he passes a stair. And usually, any stair will do.

The evenings are more of the same…motion, motion and more motion. I pick Ty up at 5:30. Juan is home by 6:30. From our arrivals until about 8, it’s all about Ty, feeding and walking the dogs, Ty, preparing for and eating dinner, Ty, making lunches for the next day, Ty, getting clothes ready for the next day, Ty and on and on and on...and Ty. And his no-longer-new mobilty has made life even more challenging. How can someone with such stubby legs cover so much ground so quickly? We can't turn our heads for even a second. It seems like much of what we do with him is chase, redirect, and distract.

By 8pm, everyone is exhausted. Ty happily goes to bed, but for Juan and me, it seems like the evening just begins. We try to do whatever it was we couldn’t do when Ty was awake – read mail, return calls, pay bills, walk the dogs, clean, do some laundry, say hello to each other.

Breathe.

This past Friday, Juan, Ty and I took a break from our normal weekday routine – no work and no daycare. We had our own much needed three-day weekend. And that (plus some pictures) is really the point of this post. Friday was great. No schedule. No big list of to-dos. No pressure. Our day went something like this: Wake up, have breakfast, play outside, nap (Ty, not us), go out to eat for lunch, check out a new playground, take Ty to visit some of his buddies, eat leftovers for dinner, play some more, relax, go to sleep.

So that was our Friday - a great start to a nice weekend. I think we've both been under some stress lately, and these three days were definitely needed. Now, if we could just harness this good feeling to take us through to the next day off, we'll be set.

-- D

Thinking of Baby Number 2

TheFosters — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 01:27:00 GMT

It's more than a little ironic that on one of my more sour and exhausted days, I write about wanting to add another child to the mix.

Since Ty discovered that the two little stubs below his waist actually took him places much faster if he stood on them, he has been relentlessly curious, determined, and stubborn. He examines, tugs on, topples and deconstructs pretty much anything within his reach and line of sight. This morning, I watched him careen around the living room, one compact bundle of energy and drool, stopping periodically to screech out something that could have been (if I didnt' know better) "don't you do that!", but it came out more like "dondooodooodat!" He then moved on, full of purpose. In a span of maybe two minutes, he had managed to investigate an outlet cover, the dog crate, a cabinet full of CDs, the doorknob to the sunroom, his activity table, and Mika's nose. I finally scooped him up and put him in his playpen. All that motion might not tire him out, but I get beat just watching him.

He's a crafty little guy too, in a cute sort of way. Yesterday while Juan was downstairs getting dinner ready, I watched Ty try to squeeze himself under one of the baby gates in an attempt to escape to the first floor. After he realized his head was hopelessly too large for the narrow opening, he pulled at the gate, let out a sad whine and turned to me with a look that said "Don't you love me any more? Free meeeeeeee!!"

So today, despite being exhausted by Ty's toddler-ness, #2 is on my mind again. This isn't really a new thing. Before we embarked on this journey a little more than a year ago, Juan and I had already decided that we wouldn't stop at just one kid. And now that Ty is a part of our lives, it's hard to imagine him as an only child. He plays well by himself, but he really comes to life when there are other kids around.

We have a lot to consider before we get serious about #2. We've got the usual worries that come with the territory of growing a family. Money is tight, time is short, and closet space is nearly non-existent. Money has been on my mind a lot lately. I changed careers a couple of years ago and now get a paycheck that looks disturbingly similar to the paychecks I received back in 1993. In fact, I made more money in 1992 then I will this year or next. I've been wondering lately if I was a little premature in deciding to change careers before starting a family. Technology wasn't always fun, but it definitely paid the bills.

I have a love-hate relationship with our house. At times, its purple and green cottage-like nature is very comforting. At other times, the to-do list seems formidable. Is this the right house to raise a family in?   Its old with small bedrooms and ridiculously tiny closets. The basement hasn't seen a remodel since the early 90s, and there's no decent space for kids to play inside. I'm not a fan of the ubiquitous brick-front suburban homes, but they do have a certain made-for-families appeal.

So all that aside, the most pressing issue is our situation with Ty. He's not our kid - biologically or legally - which means he could very well return to the life he had before October 19, 2007.   When? We don't know. It could happen this fall or next spring. We've been told this process takes on average 15 to 18 months from the day of placement. And the key phrase is "on average". He could be two years old or closer to three before anything becomes final.

What do we do in the meantime?  Take the chance that Ty is kid #1 and get started on #2? What if we do adopt another child and Ty goes back? How would we handle the loss? How would Ty's return affect his adopted sibling? Should we wait until the outcome with Ty is more clear?

There is one thing Juan and I know with certainty. We've had enough of DSS and foster-to-adopt. It's time to give domestic private adoption a try. For now, we cannot imagine having to deal with the same problem-ridden, broken system again to adopt a young child. It's a shame that we've had to come to that decision, but we've learned a lot in the past few months and have a much better understanding of what we'll tolerate and risk.

-- D