Redefining Normal

{I’m being quite open & honest about being a foster mom to three little ones at the ripe old age of twenty three while working 45 hours a week outside of my home. My husband works full time & is a full time student. We have three kids ages 4, 21 months, and 5 months…the youngest two still in diapers & oldest two in some sort of therapy. You can find me without makeup at your local Target buying formula, diapers, playdoh, and my caffiene of choice-Pepsi}. If you have walked a mile in our shoes… now you may judge…but let’s be honest- you would probably be too tired!}

I’m exhausted. I’m ecstatic. I’m overwhelmed. I’m overjoyed. I’m HATE laundry. I’m thankful to have all those little clothes. My carpet is dirty. My kids enjoyed their living room picnic. This case is insane. This case is mild in comparison. My kids had chicken nuggets & a cheese stick for dinner. Hey, at least my kids ate their dinner & tonight was Tae Kwon Do so it HAD to be quick. My house has never been so messy. I’ve learned that there are more important things in life than cleaning…like baby laughs, kisses & playing. I’ve heard “MAMA! at least 10 times tonight in a cry of pain or frustration at their sibling. I’ve heard “Mama!” today…& they were talking to me!! It’s truly a matter of perspective & attitude.

It’s quite hard for me to admit that some days are really tough. I’ve always dreamed of being a mom & I’m going to be honest and say that this is not at all what I pictured. I not once imagined that I would become a mom to THREE little ones within six months. I not once imagined that being a mommy would involve court dates, social workers, or even daycare. I never imagined children that looked nothing like me or my husband & that we would often be stared at-even judged. {Think with me for a second…When you were daydreaming of your spouse- did you dream they would forget to take the trash out, have bad breath in the mornings, or leave toothpaste in the sink? Of course not… but that doesn’t mean you’re spouse isn’t amazing AND human. We tend to leave the imperfections & the reality that is  LIFE out of our fantasies.} I never imagined that it would change ME so much. I’m no longer just Jennifer- I’m better known as ____’s mommy.

Foster Parenting is a huge responsibility but also a HUGE blessing. I’m just at the point where I’m having to readjust MY expectations for myself …OUCH…that even hurt to type! I’m having to remind myself that just because my house isn’t as clean as it once was, or that I find myself doing things I said I never would like babywearing or going back in when they call for me even though I know its just them stalling & I rationalize by saying “but they NEED ME!”, or because my kids are in daycare… doesn’t mean I’m failing…I just know what the priorities for our family are for now….& right now that priority is SANITY! Repeat after me folks…must.remain.sane. Again…perspective, attitude, expectations, & priorities.

The only thing that scares me more than things not going “as planned” is having no plan at all. Goes.against.every.bit.of.my.being. I’m scared of the unknown. I’m kind of a control freak planner & having things up in the air makes me nervous. You remember those posts that said “of course it would be hard if they reunified with their birth parents but we are adults & we will be ok” ? Those posts from a soon to be foster parent who hadn’t fallen in love with THREE kids more & more each day…yeah, those. While my logical side tells me that is still true…my heart says that I just may crumble & wither into a dark corner of the universe if that were to happen. I must admit I’m also a bit scared if we were to adopt three kids-not because we don’t love them to pieces (because we do & to clarify would adopt them in a heartbeat) but it’s scary to take on the FOREVER TIMES THREE & what that would change for well…everything! No worries- it’s the good kind of scary- the kind that is exciting but comes with much responsibility! I highly recommend becoming a foster parent if you need to work on becoming patient…you will CONSTANTLY have no clue what is going on and be waiting for & reliant on other people. I’m still shocked I haven’t formed an ulcer!

All that said…it’s still the toughest thing I’ve ever LOVED. These kiddos mean SO much to both of us & it’s amazing to watch them learn & grow. To hear them pick up on the things we say. To see their facial expressions & behaviors refelct us. To share our love & see them share theirs with us and others. To watch our parents be grandparents & our friends & family become a natural part of their life. To remember how far they have come & how blessed we have been to lead them. To see the love of my life be the best daddy ever.

As chaotic as our life can be sometimes I have to just stop & remember to enjoy these crazy years when they are {all} so little. To embrace the hand prints on our wall & cheerios ground into our carpet. I highly recommend the book Loving the Little Years to mommies of multiple little ones- while I don’t agree with everything it was a great reminder to embrace the chaos & remember they are only little for a little while! Even though this isn’t what I imagined being a mom would look like- it’s so much more amazing than I ever imagined & I’m proud of the family we are becoming!

Since I am STILL working on getting my old posts back to a normal format & trying to re-post each one…I haven’t exactly had time for any new material. However below is a great post from a friend & foster parent-to-be  As most of you know I also used this example when many folks asked us “why not your own?” My answer…we adopted a dog because there was already one needing a home- why would we not do this for children too?! Not that having a biological child is unimaginable, but it shouldn’t be frowned upon that we chose this route first! This post is from Redhead in Raleigh.. Easily offended….you can stop reading now….;-) 

Note:  This post requires your big girl panties.  We all have a right to our own opinions. Since this is my blog, this is mine.  What is that saying about opinions and assholes?  Anyway, we’ll cover asses a little later…

Question:  Who to save?
A:  Kids
B:  Dogs

That’s the big question.  Who do you prefer to save?

My answer is A: kids.  Definitely not dogs.  Final Answer.

This may surprise most people since Rudy is plastered all over this blog.  Not only is he our dog, but he is super spoiled.  He has his own bed (yes a dog bed), but is usually found sleeping on our couch or even our bed.  He actually has his own room, aka “Rudy’s Room”.  Now he is expecting a roommate, but we kept the dog theme because he was here first.  He goes on vacation with us.  He loves whipped cream, watermelon, corn on the cob and apples.  This means that every time we have some, so does he.  In short, he is our first child.

But here’s the secret.  We ordered him from a breeder.  Yes, that means that there were other dogs “dying at the shelter”, who “need loving homes”.  We did not choose to save those dogs.  We chose to order our pure-bred, paper-bearing dog who was not even born at the time.  He didn’t come from just any breeder.  I interviewed multiple breeders, specifically 7.  I researched the different lines each of the litters were coming  from, the parents medical records and the breeders training techniques.  There was a contingency in our reservation for the puppy based on certain temperament testing results.  Yes, this means that if he didn’t test well, we wouldn’t have bought him.  Thank God he did test correctly, or that would have been another dog searching for a good home!  Well, not really since there was a waiting list for the litter.

I’d much rather choose to save a child than save a dog.  Really isn’t that the way things should be.  Save your own species before a dog.  I mean they lick their own ass after all.See, told you we’d get to asses!

I definitely understand that this is not the popular opinion and completely flame-worthy.  Mainly because I have been lectured on the destiny of those poor shelter dogs when I proudly state that Rudy is from a breeder.  I will admit that the other side of this argument has many valid points. And for some reason, society has agreed.  Adopting a dog is much more socially acceptable than adopting a child.

Wait, what?

I’ll say it again.

Adopting a dog is more socially acceptable than adopting a child.

Am I the only one that thinks that is backwards?  Shouldn’t we save kids before dogs?  Let me get this straight.  We, as a society, are choosing to save animals that eat their own shit and will never be self-sufficient.  But choose to turn a cold shoulder to children who hopefully have never even thought about eating their own shit and are more than able to become self-sufficient.

Oh the flames!

We get plenty of strange looks when people realize that we spoil the shit out of Rudy because “You know he’s a dog, right?”.  But the weird part is that we get those same strange looks when we say we are open to adoption.  “Don’t you want a child of your own?”  “One of your own blood”

The response I wish I had the cajones to say “You know there are plenty of kids in orphanages looking for a good home!”  “They really are great kids who are cute and loving!”  “There is no reason to breed a child when there are already so many on Earth to love.”   Somehow I don’t think that would go over well.  Just a guess!

So now that I got your panties in a bunch (and that should be pretty uncomfortable considering that they are your big girl panties) you are probably wondering what’s my point.
Consider saving a child.  Just consider it.  That’s all.

You could go all out and adopt a whole brood Brangelina style.  Or you could be a foster parent.  Or you could provide respite care.  Or you could be a mentor.  Or you could volunteer.  Or you could even just support someone is doing one of these things.

And please don’t look at someone like they are a three-headed monster if they are considering or have chosen to save a child!  There definitely isn’t enough of them in the world.  If it isn’t right for you, don’t assume it isn’t right for anyone else.  We all know what happens when you assume.  Here we are back to asses again!