Meeting My Kids

Tomorrow morning, we will see a picture of two kids. Kids that will in a few short weeks be ours.

It's been about a month since we first heard about this sibling group. A 5-year old boy and a girl who is somewhere around a year and a half.

First, they were going to be legally free for adoption. Then, the court case dragged on and now we're in limbo. We're told that they are still on track for TPR (termination of parental rights), but the next court date isn't until April and even then things may drag on a little while after that.

Still. These will be our kids, for a few months at least. And probably (maybe?) for forever.

We found out earlier this week that they are ready to be transferred to a more permanent home, and that we were deemed the best family for their needs. I won't lie by telling you I didn't feel a sense of absurd competitive joy when I heard that we'd "beat out" the other potential families.

Tomorrow morning we have a meeting with all of the relevant case workers. Our social worker will be there. The kids social worker will be there. Their soon-to-be adoption coordinator will be there. I suspect that others may be there as well -- like their CASA worker. (It was surprising to me to find out, during our training, just how many people are involved with kids in the foster care system.)

We know their background (which I will not share here to protect their privacy), but so far we haven't seen any pictures or really heard anything about their personalities. It's weird trying to fall in love with a child, sight unseen. And yet it also feels wrong not to try and bond with this mysterious creature that will be part of your family so soon.

I am dying to meet them, but tomorrow's meeting, where we'll see their picture and get to hear about them directly from the workers involved in their case, will have to be enough.

I leave on Sunday for one last business trip before I settle in to be a mom for the next few months. I'm trying to stay focused, to get as much done as possible, so that I can put work aside with a clear conscience--knowing that I've wrapped up projects in good faith.

But I suspect that I'll mostly spend next week in my client's offices, staring dreamily out the window and making lists for toothbrushes and spiderman pajamas, highchairs and strollers. 

Things that Terrify Me about Impending Parenthood

We are in the final countdown to foster/adoption, and I expect that we'll begin our first placement in the next 4-6 weeks.

OMG, that's not right at all. It was 4-6 weeks from the beginning of the year, which means...quick mental calculation...oh crap...I suppose we could have a placement as soon as 2 weeks from now.

*suppressing anxiety attack*

As we get closer to our placement, I'm getting more disjointed--feeling absurd amounts of excitement and terror, often in repeating cycles that do nothing for my sleep habits. I've been doing a ton of reading on parenting, specifically about the special needs that traumatized, abused, and neglected kids will have, and it's made me realize just how much of an uphill battle this is going to be. So in the spirit of "naming the fear to master it", here is my current list of things that terrify me about impending parenthood.

Chronic Lack of Sleep

You know that they use sleep deprivation as a form of torture, right? And for very good reason.

Also: I generally get 10 hours of sleep a night. As did Einstein, so don't judge.

I am terrified about the lack of sleep that comes with parenting (especially kids that may have nightmares or be too scared to sleep for months after transitioning to a new home) and what that will do to my parenting capabilities.

So much of effective parenting of hurt children (or so all the experts tell me) is to be patience and curious and empathetic--to be in the moment and and ride out the wave of emotions and behaviors that the kids express. 

To be able to give that kind of 1-on-1 attention and fully devote each moment to really "being there" is emotionally and physically exhausting. Even if you're getting a normal amount of sleep. How am I going to do it when I'm totally sleep deprived?

And Now...An Anecdote

When Bill and I had been dating for about two months, we adopted Maya.

She was 13 weeks old, with big floppy ears. We called her our "love child". I'd never had a puppy before, and didn't realize that she was very, very sick. Bill left the next day for a week-long trip, and suddenly I was responsible for this puppy. Who didn't play, or jump around, or chase the variety of toys we had purchased. She really didn't do anything but lay on a towel in the corner of the kitchen while I nervously paced the floor.

I thought that maybe she was just getting settled in, maybe she was just nervous. And then the second day came and went, and she STILL hadn't eaten anything or so much as sniffed at the water bowl. 

And, she was getting progressively snottier. So in addition to taking her outside four times a night for the second night in a row, now I was laying awake worried that she was dying. (Incidentally, because of Bill's townhouse set-up, "taking her outside" meant getting dressed, putting Maya on a leash, walking down the sidewalk and across the street to the nearest patch of grass. It was not a convenient process.)

By day three I was totally panicked, and rushed her to the vet (getting a speeding ticket on the way, which I managed to talk my way out of by being in near tears with worry about this pathetic little creature laying on the floor of the passenger seat). 

They diagnosed her with a terrible case of kennel cough, and said that she might need to be admitted to the vet hospital for an IV. While they took her in back to inject a bag of plasma into her side (to try and rehydrate her) I placed a near-hysterical call to Bill's voicemail.

The vet told me that if I couldn't get Maya to drink some water and eat a little bit of food, that she would have to be admitted. They gave me a syringe that I could use to squirt some water into her mouth, and some "extra delicious" food to tempt her with.

So I drove back home and spend the next 16 hours painstakingly dribbling water in her mouth and hand-feeding her morsels of food. I'm pretty sure that I spent most of the time leaking tears. It was not the "new puppy" experience that I had anticipated, and I felt an incredible weight of responsibility.

By the fourth morning (again, taking her out at least 4 times each night), Maya had turned the corner and was showing some signs of life. A few days later, she was actually exploring the house, peeing on everything, and traumatizing the cats. (Exhausting in another kind of way.)

When Bill came home, I picked him up at the airport and was so happy and overwhelmed and sleep deprived that I burst into tears when he got in the car. And I kept crying sporadically through the rest of the evening. (I'm sure he was thinking that he had made a terrible mistake in committing to a new puppy with a girl he hardly knew...)

Of course, after that week things progressively got better. That summer, we had such a good time celebrating our relationship and this wonderful little ball of fur. Teaching her to swim in the backyard pond, watching her gain a confidence, seeing that happy little tail wagging -- it totally made all of that stress worthwhile.

Where Was I?

Oh right. Parenthood.

Essentially, this is what I'm expecting parenthood to be. A horrible, sleep-deprived, stressful period followed by something richly rewarding. 

What scares me, though, is not knowing how long that transition period will last. I was crazy and unstable within the first four days. How on earth will I cope with weeks and months of bumpy uncertainty? 

How on earth am I going to get enough sleep? And without enough sleep, how am I going to stay sane? And if I'm not calm and collected, how will my kids ever feel safe enough to bond with us? And the longer that they don't bond with us, the longer the situation will last, and the longer that I won't get enough sleep. And the cycle will rage on until I collapse in a fetal position and need intensive in-patient treatment (e.g. three months of comatose recovery)?

Anyway...

I had originally thought I would list several things that terrify me about impending parenthood. But apparently, I've spend WAY more time than necessary dealing with just the sleep issue. So maybe I'll leave it here for now. And go take a nap.

Unexpected

As Bill and I edge closer to fostering/adopting, I find myself doing the most unusual things:

• Researching karate and Tae-Kwan-Do afterschool programs in our neighborhood. There are THREE programs that will pick kids up from our local elementary school, transport them to the dojo, and work with them all afternoon (snacks, homework, martial arts, and "life lessons"). I suspect that this would/could be a great alternative to the usual afterschool babysitter and/or daycare.
• Cursing at the local elementary school's website, which has broken links to the "new student enrollment" forms, a page that is supposed to link to each of the past months' newsletters (but without a single link), a calendar of events that was last updated in September, and lots of references to a mysterious "Students Right and Responsibilities Handbook" that can't actually be tracked down on the web. They need an intern, stat.
• Researching traditional food from Ghana.
• Looking into what it takes to own a snake, and trying to figure out how we would add yet another pet to our menagerie.
• Pricing out youth football uniforms, and wondering if I would really let my child play football after all the evidence about long-term injuries.

Tonight, I'm hoping to put a little brake on my hysterical attempts to plan for the unexpected. Instead, my goal is to wrap up our holiday cards, address them, and get them into the mailbox. I may also make some chocolate chip cookies--something adults and foster children love. A good skill to keep sharp, I think.

Where do you come from, little dog?

When we adopted Gracie at 11 weeks, we were told she was a "lab mix". As she grew, we noticed that there was a lot of "mix" in that "lab", if you know what I mean.

In the intervening two years, we've done a lot of speculating about her origins.

Many people think she is part pitbull. She certainly has elements of the breed, including a tendency to overprotect her humans.

Our vet clinic has her registered as a lab/rottie mix, which also makes sense in terms of temperment and appearance.

We went back and forth, until this past weekend when we came across a picture of a Lab/Plotthound mix. After a little research, we decided that the description fits: muscular, lean, and built for speed stamina and endurance. They can be fixated on "prey" which would explain Gracie's ability to devote her complete and total concentration to a tree where a squirrel was spotted for HOURS AND HOURS.

So says Wikipedia:

This breed is active. They are vicious fighters on game, have a super treeing instinct and take readily to water. They are quick to learn. They are often indifferent to other dogs but seek the attention of humans. Voice is open trailing, bawl and chop.

But it was the picture that convinced us. Compare this Lab/Plott mix:

With these pictures of Gracie:

I'm sold. What about you?

November Gratefulness #5

As the month draws to a close, I have much to be grateful for--not just now, but all year round. Here are a few of the things that have me sighing with contentedness these days.

A freakishly organized pantry

We purchased another 15 OXXO cannisters and moved every dry good (with the exception of some oddly-shaped crackers) into the clear storage.

To make it even more organized, I broke out the labelmaker--purchased last year and never opened--and created labels for each and every thing in the pantry. My OCD was shuddering with pleasure.

Christmas decorations

Our seasonal decor is somewhat limited--at least in comparison to my mom, who has a box of wreaths, table linens, and random "stuff" for nearly every holiday on the calendar. This year, we made a point to get what little Christmas stuff we do have in place. 

Rather than spread one item per room, we opted to focus efforts on the entryway and main living/dining area. We got a tree from our local provider (love living in the historic downtown area!) and decorated it on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Everything was in place and tidied up by Sunday, with Bill managing the bannister garland on his own while I sneaked off to catch up on work.

It was also our first opportunity to use the Weihnachtspyramide that we purchased on our vacation to Germany in April. My family had one of these when I was growing up, and I'm so pleased to have one for our home. We have it in a place of honor in the dining room--where we can carefully watch to ensure that the candles don't inadvertantly light the whole thing on fire.

Keeping up the momentum, we even designed and ordered holiday cards tonight. With any luck, we'll have them addressed and mailed by December 10. Having eschewed the holiday card routine for years, I'm delighted to tackle it this time around.

Winter Gardens

While I am professionally obliged to bemoan the state of global warming, I have to admit that it isn't 100% bad. Tonight I was able to harvest a bell pepper, Swiss chard, and bok choi from our garden. Two of the three are actually summer vegetables that should have been well past harvest date, but due to our unseasonably warm November they are still chugging along.

The produce went directly into the peanut satay stirfry that I whipped up with Thai noodles and leftover Thansgiving turkey. It was delicious, if I do say so myself. 

And last but not least...

Yesterday we purchased a new car. I am grateful for the financial success that allowed us to pay for it with cash. I am grateful that the foster/adoption approval process is coming to a close, making it possible to realistically need a car with that third row of seat. And I'm grateful for my dear husband, who (at least today) took the old car and left me with that gleaming machine for errands around town.