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| It's a boy... His name is Michael, and he's 12, and he'll be here at 4 p.m. on Monday. I don't know much more than that... I think stunned is the right word. I've been waiting for so long, and now suddenly it's happened so fast (though really, it's unheard of to get that much notice). I'm really looking forward to having someone to care for, but at the same time, I don't think I'm a bit prepared for what this is going to do to my life. There's a part of me that would love to be a stay-at-home mom, but that has never been an option for me. And probably never will be. I was listening to this incredible podcast from Mars Hill about hope. I listened to it twice, in fact. He was talking about the Road to Emmaus from Luke 24, and the poignant comment the disciples made: "but we had hoped...". Two things really stood out to me: The lie: "It's always going to be this way."
The truth: "Look! I am making all things new." I love that. | | |
| Still waiting... | Here's the latest update: My home study has been submitted to the Office of Certification, Licensing & Regulation (does anybody else think that title is both redundant and Orwellian?). So far, I've gotten an email from said office confirming that the application is in progress, and a second email listing four documents that were missing from the application. Odd, since I know I submitted all four. I have copies of two, and the other two I signed at my last home visit. *sigh* Guess it's too much to ask for the agency to double-check the packet before sending it in... oh, well. At this point, I'm estimating that I'll be officially licensed around the end of June. After that, my name goes on a list of "open bed-spaces", and I could get a call anytime after that...which means, anytime there's a child who needs a home who fits my licensing criteria. I do always have the option of saying no... but really, how likely is that? "No, thanks, I don't want that kid." Uh huh. I can't go outside what's on my license (up to 2 children, ages 7-18), or my agency and I both get in serious trouble, and I wouldn't take a child I wouldn't be able to provide sufficient care for (i.e. severe special needs, major medical issues, needing constant care, etc.). Other than that, I'm pretty much open. And open, in this case, means I'm having trouble preparing mentally for this new life of mine. There's a vast difference between, for example, having a 7-year-old boy or a 15-year-old girl in the house. It's not that either one worries me, particularly... it's just that I can't get my brain around how to think about it. And it just occurred to me the other day that I might actually get both a boy and a girl, which means I need to get myself another twin bed and move the futon out of the second bedroom. And soon. Soon, soon, soon... the waiting will be over. I'm tired of waiting. I don't think I'm ready, or prepared, or strong enough... but I am ready to have somebody else in my life to think about again. I'm gettin' kinda tired of me. |
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| This is it!So I just passed my official state Home Safety Inspection, which was my very LAST paperwork hurdle... ... so now it's a waiting game. Wait to get my license, and then... at any moment, the phone call, introducing me to my kids. Craziness. | | |
| Status update: I've finished the required courses, as of last Thursday. I've got a pre-home inspection inspection scheduled for this Friday. I've completed the online application, and all the required paperwork has been turned in. That means I have the following steps left to go: - actual home inspection
- one more home visit (not sure what for)
- 12 criteria paper (basically just answers to 12 "are you sure you're ready for this" questions. I'm guessing just saying "nope" isn't going to cut it.)
- wait for my agency to submit the application
- wait for the licensing body to approve or deny the application
- wait for a placement When I finally got an answer to my questions about time frame, I was told I would probably have my first placement within 60 days. 60 days. That was two weeks ago. So in other words, by the end of May, give or take, I'll actually be a foster mom. Actual children. Real ones. Living in MY house. Calling me... yeah, that's a question, actually. What are they going to call me? "Mom"? Somebody else already has that title.
"Nadia"? Doesn't seem quite right, somehow.
"Miss Fischer"? Definitely not. I'm not their teacher, I'm their mom. One of them, anyway.
My students used to get around this problem easily--"Fisch" is less formal than "Miss Fischer", and a step or two above "Nadia"--but it's not exactly a "mom" title.
A lot of foster parents solve this problem by going with something like "Mommy Cathy". I've tried a few versions of this... it just really doesn't work with my name (too many syllables).
Guess we'll find out. It's all so surreal, still. Doesn't quite seem possible. And it's all so vague, at this point. I have no idea who my kids will be... how old they'll be (well, older than 6, at least), what they like, what they don't like, what they eat for breakfast, which vegetables they despise, what kind of candy is their favorite, what allergies they might have, what they're good at, what they struggle with, whether they bounce off the walls or tend to withdraw and keep to themselves, whether they need help with things or do everything for themselves, what their favorite colors are, how they get along with other kids or adults.... what their fears are, what their pet peeves are, what their habits and idiosyncracies are like... I try to picture them sometimes. My kids. But the picture keeps shifting on me, new faces every few seconds. They just won't sit still. I can't get a good look at them. How do I prepare for this? Are we talking Barbie dolls or fire engines? Playstations or legos? Nightlights or cell phones? Play Doh or car keys? Ayn Rand or Beatrix Potter? Sesame Street or Boondock Saints? Finding Nemo or Donnie Darko? Or a hundred other things I've never even heard of? And there are other questions:
How many hours a night does an 8-year-old sleep?
How much allowance should a 12-year-old get?
What kind of chores are reasonable expectations for a 10-year-old?
Do they have home visits every week? How far away are they?
What size shoe does an 11-year-old wear?
Can I expect a 7-year-old to brush his teeth and shower without help?
Will I need a babysitter on Wednesday nights?
Can I trust her to stay home alone, ever?
How long will it take for them to trust me?
When am I going to get to see my kids, if I work 8 hours a day and drive 2?
What happens if I get stuck in traffic and can't pick them up at 6?
What do I do when I need alone time? I've been living alone for 3 years...
How do I explain to my Sunday school class that I suddenly have kids their age?
How on earth am I going to do this on my own? And what, exactly, am I going to do when school gets out... right at the end of May, about the time of my first placement? I can't take 8 weeks off work... Well, here goes. Seems like my only option is to just take the plunge and let God figure out the details. He's pretty good at that, after all. | | |
| ConfessionsThere is a new and frightening side to my life. It's called ...shopping. I can't remember the last time I've managed to come home without a plastic bag containing some new and absolutely necessary part of my life. This is so unlike me... or the me I thought I was... but maybe that was just the me who couldn't afford to do this? Yikes. Now that's a scary thought. Discipline born of the absence of possibility, rather than the strength of will. I justify this, to the amusement of those watching the parade of new "necessities", with the idea that these are all things I need for my next life's adventure... (we'll just ignore the things I bought for or on my trip to Vienna... those don't count...) My pseudo-roommate Liz has inspired me to use lists as a method of blogging, so here we go. Recent purchases: - a bunkbed
- 2 bedspreads for the bunkbed
- 2 pillows, also for the bunkbed
- 1 sheet set
- 1 mattress (the other one is/was Liz's... wonder if she knows that?)
- a table and two chairs
- a set of cubicals with fabric drawers that match the bedspreads
- a white board calendar with dry erase markers
- a bookshelf
- a laundry basket in the shape of a turtle... I think
- a whole collection of Van Gogh prints, complete with frames
- VCR/DVD player
- 2 phones
- curtain rods and drapes
- tablecloths
- a globe
- blankets
- a rake
- a weed-killer sprayer
- a hose
- several calendars
- toothbrushes
- paint & paintbrushes, for the dresser (and possibly a few other things, yet to be determined)
- a CD of computer games
- board games
- tot locks
- a fire-safe locking box (all sorts of things need to be locked away, apparently)
- night lights
- "easy-to-install" (for an electrician) motion detector lights
- gas cap
- etc., etc., etc.
It's not really an unreasonable list, I still contend. Except for the absurdly short time frame in which all these things were purchased... and the fact that I left out a few of the more ridiculous items. Like movies. Lots of movies. And my first ever pair of 5 inch heels (which I... love...). Or that beautiful little statue I found in Safford that I absolutely could not resist. The steel toed boots were free. They don't count. Neither does the new car I'm considering, since I haven't actually bought it yet. *sigh* I still need a fire extinguisher. And a desk. And ink cartridges. Guess there's always tomorrow... | | |
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