Frum Fostering

Ethics of self-care

2011-08-04T17:27:00.002-04:00

Okay y'all. My twitter peeps are encouraging me to take a mental health day tomorrow. I want a broader range of opinions. Here are the details:
1. I want to take the day off to go to Starbucks and while away the day with a sweet coffee drink and my knitting.
2. The day off won't really help my mental health (though my mental health HAS been a bit off lately).
3. The one piece of my job that I absolutely MUST DO tomorrow requires about 40 seconds and
can be done from my laptop.
4. If I am NOT at work tomorrow, there will only be two people in the office.
5. Neither one of the people who will be in the office normally works until 5, so one of them would unexpectedly have to stay late.
6. I willingly do my part to pitch in when others are out of the office.
7. But I feel like I do more taking-of-time-off than my most analogous colleague, who is the one who more likely would be the one to have to stay late.
8. So taking the day off is an imposition on my coworkers.

Given all these factors, what say you? Okay to take the day off, or inappropriate taking advantage of coworkers?

MIA! Quick updates

2011-08-04T17:21:00.002-04:00

A lot has happened in the last two months since my last post. Here are the bullet points:

Odessa graduated from high school. I got to go to her graduation AND meet her mom, but didn't get to celebrate with her.

Odessa moved to a new foster home. She refused to pack, so I packed her things for her. No plastic bags. When her social worker ~~dragged her kicking and screaming~~ brought her to get her belongings, the social worker commented that "we don't like to move kids in garbage bags, but bags are a lot easier to move." Uh, sorry?

I went on vacation!

We had two student interns in our office. Both over 18, both in the child welfare system, both ended up getting fired. That's a longer post that I've been meaning to write for the last month.

Odessa turned 18.

Sabrina's 6th birthday is in two weeks. I have to figure out what to get her. (Also my nephew. Turning 8. Any ideas for either of them are welcome.)

That's about it!

Odessa and Money

2011-06-01T17:48:00.003-04:00

A few anecdotes involving Odessa and money:

This morning: "I don't want to use my allowance to get my nails done for prom.* My allowance is for other things!"**

Also this morning: "All I need you for is money."

About two weeks ago: "I shouldn't have to ask you for money. You should just give it to me. And you should just have it in your pocket."***

*I did not give Odessa sufficient money for ALL the extras for prom. I gave her some money and told her that I would give her more if she showed she was able to be home by curfew and respected me as more than just a source of money. She understood that (she repeated it back to me last night) but did not do what I asked.
**When we worked out her allowance, getting nails done was added as a semi-regular expense that she could save up for. So actually, it isn't :-)
***The last bit is because pre-Odessa I rarely carried cash with me. I try to remember to go to the ATM before Sunday morning allowance time, but don't always remember. And if there's something she needs money for in the middle of the week, chances are good I'm making a trip to the ATM.

College!

2011-05-26T17:26:00.003-04:00

Odessa is going! Next year! To the four year school she wants to go to!

I'm a little befuddled by the May 26th acceptance, but I'll take it. I am super proud of and excited for her.

Now, if she could only figure out how to get home by curfew...

Curfew and Consequences

2011-05-13T15:52:00.003-04:00

Odessa isn't late for curfew every night. Just every night that she leaves the house.*

I have tried "if you are a half hour late for curfew, your curfew is a half hour earlier for the next week," but she just doesn't go out then.

I've considered charging her money (that's a way to get a teenager's attention!) because when she is late for curfew, I stay up worrying, and it affects my time and my work. I haven't actually done this.

And then last night she was almost three hours late for curfew. Her phone battery was (almost) dead, she had no cash, our subways stop running at midnight, I felt like crap on a cracker, and she hadn't told me where she was until I got in touch with her after she had already missed curfew. I was completely overcome with worry.

So I am going to do two things. The first is probably a terrible idea but I need to do something. (By the way, she also was late for curfew on Sunday. It was because she was babysitting her niece and couldn't find her brother to drop her niece off--not really her fault.) I am going to make her write sentences. To be completely honest, if I hadn't seen on blogs that some other foster and adoptive parents use this with their children, I would have thought the punishment went away with the '50s. She was 162 minutes late, so she will write "I will be home by curfew" 162 times. It would have been better for her to do it last night but she cursed at me and stormed off to her bedroom before I mentioned it, and, again, I felt like crap on a cracker.

The second is much more logical and appropriate for a teenager. Her senior trip is in 3 weeks. I've signed the permission slip for her to go, but not given the money yet. I want her to have the experience of going, but I don't know that I can trust her to make good decisions. So we are going to make a contract. It is going to involve being home by curfew (with exceptions for 1. if I've given her permission to be out later, and 2. a cumulative hour of leeway for slight delays in buses and such), not cursing at me, and completing chores that I ask her to do (which are few and far between, to be completely honest).

*In fairness, she went out on Tuesday after having ASKED permission, she called at 9 asking if she could go to her cousin's band practice, and when I said no, she was home by curfew.

The Status of my License

2011-03-30T13:26:00.003-04:00

I made a decision last night. My foster care license expires sometime in September (ish). Odessa ought to have moved to some other situation by then, and I want to buy a house. I can't buy a house where I am now because I can't afford the houses in neighborhoods that are in walking distance to synagogues. I've done a grand total of 4 hours of my mandatory 30 hours of training. So I am going to let my license lapse, work on moving, work on my mental health and attachment issues, and then get licensed in a new state after I'm settled in my new home. I'm still here. Just announcing my intentions to the world. :-)

Family Dinner

2011-03-29T18:28:00.002-04:00

I'm looking for advice about parenting teenagers. This is framed within the specific context of eating dinner as a family but probably this is just a symptom of my broader not-knowing-what-I'm-doing-ness.

I don't (think I) have that many expectations, but one of the expectations that I have is that Odessa and I eat dinner together as a family. I stated this the first night Odessa lived with me and have brought it up at intervals (usually when I'm disappointed that Odessa hasn't come home for dinner) since then.

It is hard to model this as "this is what a healthy family does" because besides Odessa, it's just me. And it is important to me that we eat together because 1. I need to make sure she's eating something healthy (and that she's eating at all), 2. it's when I talk to her about school and her friends and her plans, and 3. that's what a healthy family tries to do.

Two weeks ago Odessa complained about this expectation because it's not what she's used to and she thinks I'm "forcing" her to come home, and also when it get's nicer out, she's "not going to want to come inside." I told her I would think about it, but then I didn't say anything until she brought it up again. When she brought it up again last week, I offered her a compromise, that we could make a schedule of two nights a week that she could eat somewhere else. She didn't respond, and explicitly opted not to respond when I brought up the compromise the following day. I stated then that because she didn't respond, I would expect her to come home for dinner every night until she chooses to respond.

She was at her brother's for the weekend, came home yesterday and ate before I got home, and today went to her bedroom while I was cooking and told me she wasn't going to come out when I knocked on her door to let her know that dinner was ready.

I don't want to "punish" Odessa for not eating with me. I know that partly I need to adjust my expectations. But at the same time, I am frustrated because I come home to a television that is very loud, Odessa doesn't say hello to me, she (very teenagerly) responds to questions with at most one syllable... but she turns the TV off for dinner. I'm terrible at getting anything out of her about school (more than 2 questions and she snaps at me) and have almost no clue what's going on in her life; if I don't have 15 minutes at dinner I have nothing.

I need ideas.

And on a related note...

2011-03-28T14:02:00.003-04:00

Anyone know of jurisdictions that extend the one family-one worker model beyond child welfare to include kids involved in the juvenile justice system, food stamps and income assistance, other government programs??

One kid-one worker model?

2011-03-28T13:53:00.002-04:00

My jurisdiction has (I think!) a one family-one worker model for child welfare, so a kid's parents have the same worker as the kid. But the kid might cycle through workers: one when first removed from the home, then another for her first bit of time in care, then maybe another when her goal changes to adoption (I'm just guessing, as I've not had a kid in that situation) or she ages into teenager-hood... not to mention all of the times her worker might leave the agency or get promoted. And then there are all the extra people at the agency that the kid has to deal with--the educational specialist who helps with her FAFSA and college applications, and others. Now, I understand why it helps to have workers who have specialized knowledge of different stages of the process. But it doesn't seem good for the kid. Do any of you know if there are jurisdictions that keep one worker with one kid/sibling group throughout the kid's time in care?

Hiding in the laundry room

2011-03-20T19:19:00.003-04:00

I meant to do laundry earlier today, but Odessa (who last night said she was coming home from her brother's--where she was spending the weekend--tonight at curfew and today called me around 12:45 asking if I could pick her up) and I got home at the same time (I wasn't able to pick her up when she called, as I was out shopping) and pretty much the first thing she said to me was that she was going to do laundry. There went that plan.

So I'm in the laundry room (4 loads!) with all of my neighbors. I knew I'd have to wait at some point in the process so I brought the computer and my phone and my knitting. Odessa laughed at me when I told her I was going to "hang out" down here, but it works.

Plus I'm having a "you're driving me crazy but it's really my own problem" weekend so it's better for me to be away from Odessa. (Though I'd like to be cleaning more in the apartment and my bedroom. Later, I suppose.)

As I mentioned, Odessa spent the weekend at her brother's house. She went Thursday night because there wasn't school on Friday. Friday morning I woke up only to discover that she was home, in her bed, sound asleep. We texted a bit during the day and then about 20 minutes before Shabbat, she called me to tell me that she "needs to take some papers to the building." I kid you not. Still not sure what she was talking about but it did become clear that she didn't expect me to do anything about it. Glad she communicates but really, if all she does is confuse me, it stresses me out.

Friday night as I went to bed I noticed that my phone's screen was on. I was careful to turn it off after I plugged it in, so curiosity got the better of me and I looked to see what I had missed. It was a text message from O and all I could see of it was "please answer t". So then I spent the rest of Shabbat wondering what she wanted. It turned out...

She has a UTI and she wanted me to take her to the ER. She ultimately called her therapist who took her, but of course I feel overwhelmed by guilt that I wasn't there for her. She called me right before Shabbat ended so I called her back and she said "I just got home from the hospital and I need you to get my prescriptions for me." Okay, there went my timed-to-the-minute plan for Purim. Stressful, and I don't know why O's brother couldn't get her prescriptions filled (or, for that matter, why the ER doesn't send people discharged after 7 home with 1 day of medicine so you don't have to find a 24 hour pharmacy), but of course I'll get her her prescriptions. But I checked online and the pharmacies by her brother close at 9 on Saturday nights and it was already 8:30 so I wouldn't have been able to get there. So then I'm stressed plus feeling guilty about not being there for Odessa when she went to the ER plus feeling guilty about not getting her prescriptions filled. (But I was able to make the treats I needed to make for Purim, go to shpiel, go to the late megillah reading, come home and put my mishloach manot together though I couldn't find my stapler, and go to bed by 2:30.)

When I called Odessa back to tell her that I wouldn't be able to get her prescriptions because of when the pharmacies closed, I asked when she was planning to come home and she said by curfew tonight (10 pm). I made my mental schedule for today: megillah reading, shopping for a new suit, quick stop at the craft store for materials for a baby present, come home, laundry, dishes, make a shopping list, go grocery shopping.

I got to the mall at around 12:45 and discovered that Odessa had called three times in the preceding 10 minutes. (No message.) I called her back and she asked if I could pick her up. And we are now back to the beginning of this post, where you can see that my plans for today did not work out as I'd hoped.

This morning's surprise

2011-03-18T09:21:00.002-04:00

Odessa planned to spend this weekend at her brother's girlfriend's house. She didn't have school today, so she left last night to head over there. This morning I woke up and discovered that the laptop was not where I left it. Confused, I checked Odessa's room, and there she was, fast asleep.

Now, I slept with my bedroom door open last night. So how did I 1. not hear her come in, and 2. not hear her watch TV (the remotes were also not where I left them)? And what are her plans for the rest of the weekend? I did grocery shopping last night for the next few days, but for only myself. Someone from the Agency is supposed to pick her up today to go to the Social Security office to get her her social security card, but I don't know who it is, and that person expects Odessa to be at her "sister"'s house.

Surprise!

Vacation advice

2011-03-14T12:47:00.002-04:00

Okay y'all, I need your advice. First, let me say that obviously any decisions will have to involve the rest of my family and Odessa. Nevertheless, let me tell you what the background is and then what the options are, and then I really really really want your feedback.

Background: we booked a family vacation way back in September. Sabrina was with me then but we knew she wouldn't be staying, and of course I had no clue of Odessa's existence, or that there was even the remotest possibility that I would end up with a teenager in my home. We are going on a cruise leaving from thousands of miles away from our Big City, from a Big City2 that I've never been to. My aunt and I are to share a stateroom on the cruise, and I intend to spend a few extra days after the cruise wandering Big City2 and the BigCity3 that is a few hours away.

The question now is: do we bring Odessa on the cruise, or does she stay somewhere else for two weeks?

1. If she comes on the cruise, I can't extend the vacation. This is for cost reasons (I'm assuming that I can find enough couches to surf for a few days that I won't have to pay for a hotel. Can't do that with a teenager.)--though we'd also have to change up my ideas about what we would do for those few days, and that just seems stressful to me. (Plus her summer job will start the day after the cruise ends.)

2. Stateroom options if she comes:
a. She shares the stateroom with my aunt and me. Total cost (outside of airfare) for the extra person: $580.
b. She shares the stateroom with me that I was going to share with my aunt, and my aunt gets her own stateroom in the same (expensive) category. Total cost (outside of airfare): $4100-some.
c. My aunt and I share our stateroom, Odessa brings a friend and they share an interior cabin. Total cost (outside of airfare): $2489. (Note: I didn't ask about Odessa having her own interior cabin, my guess is that would be about $2200; I'm not sure I like the idea of a 17 year old with her own cabin, though I traveled with my parents and had my own hotel rooms. In fact, we went to England when I was 9 and my sister 14, and we shared a room that wasn't always adjacent to my parents'.)

Airfare at the moment is about $450 per person round trip. I hate spending money but I think I would be okay paying for a friend to come with her, since it would be only a few extra hundred dollars plus airfare.

3. I'm really just bummed that I wouldn't be able to extend the vacation.

4. I promised Odessa that we could go somewhere by plane so we either do this (which will give her all sorts of new experiences) or I have to plan another trip to somewhere that would end up costing about $1000 anyway. (Yes, $1000 is very different from $3500. Nevertheless...)

5. If she doesn't come, I will feel guilty for going on a family vacation and not treating her as part of the family. Even though we didn't know her when the trip was planned.

6. All this time, my expectations were for a responsibility-free vacation. I don't want to have to shift my expectations.

7. I don't know how the rest of the family would feel about the addition of a 17 year old and an 18 year old to our group. (I'm making assumptions about which friend Odessa would choose to bring.)

8. I'm cheap. Over $6000 for a vacation seems steep to me, even if it would be for three people. (I think that the $2500 I have to pay for myself seems steep, but I'd gotten used to it.)

What do you recommend I do???

Catching up

2011-03-14T11:05:00.002-04:00

It's a good thing that this blog is anonymous, not because of protecting my dear children's privacy (well, that too) but because I am going to say this:

It is just past 11 this morning. I've just finished my coffee (love ya Dunkin Donuts!) and have done maybe 20 minutes of work so far. Yes, I've been here for 2 hours. I have plenty to do, and none of it difficult, but feel like catching you all up on the last few weeks chez Foster Ima.

Odessa is still with me. I had a visit from my support worker a few weeks ago which is relevant to Odessa still being with me in the following way: my support worker clearly doesn't care about the kids in my care.

Now, this isn't entirely fair, as she did ask if I'd been in touch in Sabrina and how is she doing at dad's. But her lack of concern for Odessa's well-being as a 17 and a half year old in care was shocking and dismaying.

You all know that I agreed to Odessa coming to live with me without much thought or soul-searching on my part because it was supposed to be an "emergency" placement for "about a month." I can't say no to a teenager being without a place to live, and I could handle a month. Obviously it's been about three and a half months at this point, and while Odessa's social worker submitted a request for a new placement (see my last post for more details about how well that went over, my guilt over the situation, etc), MY worker says that the placement office won't do anything unless they feel a sense of urgency. (A lot of good that sense of urgency did when Odessa's LAWYER was the one who found her the placement at my house because the placement office wasn't acting with any sense of purpose.)

So if I want Odessa to move, I need to give 30 days notice. Of course, that could very well mean that in 30 days she moves to an emergency home and then to another foster home like mine where the foster parent(s) hasn't thought about making a long-term commitment to a teenager, and she just gets bounced around and around. I don't want that to happen. But my worker had no problem at all with the possibility of this happening and told me at least four times that I should give my 30 days notice.

Hell, no.

I am happy for Odessa to stay with me until a reasonable longer-term placement is found. I have come to accept that probably she will be with me indefinitely. She is likely to go to community college here in the fall, instead of going away, and I anticipate that she will still be with me.

***

We got cable yesterday. Odessa and I met together with her therapist a week ago and discussed what each of our top priorities are. Mine was that Odessa communicate with me. (As in, you may not give me the silent treatment.) Hers was cable. So I got cable in exchange for her not giving me the silent treatment. I should have gotten cable earlier (she LIKES watching the news--what teenager wants to watch the news?) but I was a little stubborn :-( At least I am getting something out of it now!

Now we just need to work on the concept of "turn the TV off when you leave for school."

***

Passover. Passover is coming much too quickly. However, I discovered the advantage to living somewhere where the school system is so tied to the Christian calendar that spring break is still the week after Easter instead of being in the middle of March to break up the spring semester: Passover falls during spring break. Again. I assume that Odessa is going to visit her godmother out of state over her spring break, so I will only have to worry about the last day or two of Passover with her. That is a huge load of stress removed from my shoulders.

***
Stay tuned for a post soliciting advice about vacations.

Oh sweetheart

2011-02-21T02:33:00.003-05:00

Part of why Odessa is in care is because her father passed away and then mom was just unable/unwilling to care for her. We had a very rough night chez Foster Ima and I learned the following things:

1. No one told Odessa that her dad was sick and dying. (She was about 11 at the time.) So she didn't get to say goodbye, didn't get a last time for her dad to tell her he loved her, was lied to by everyone in her family.

2. Perhaps her dad could have been helped by a kidney transplant? Odessa kept saying through her crying "I would have given you a kidney."

3. She is really angry at her dad for dying (as is completely understandable) because he is the only person she could ever count on and then he left her too and so she is in this cruddy situation.

I should add that this is all MY fault. (Not really ALL my fault. There are many times before I got involved that other people did crappy things to Odessa.) I could have said no to the placement because I'm not at a place in my life to make a life-long commitment to a teenager (or anyone). I could have suggested at our meeting on Friday that the social worker didn't need to request a new placement. But I did say yes to the "one month" placement and really should have known better! And I didn't stop the team from agreeing to request a new placement (I also didn't encourage that part of the conversation). So Odessa is feeling abandoned yet again, this time by me.

As an aside: she was two hours and 40 minutes late for curfew, including a visit by the police to take a missing persons report. So there will be consequences. (Curfew 2 hrs and 40 minutes early all week with the only exception being if she stays at night school because she can't get home by 7:20 if she's at night school, and something additional that I haven't decided on yet because she was late intentionally to piss me off. Any ideas?)

Plus there are consequences for the lack of communication with me, and that is that I get her phone while she is in her bedroom. (This so that she cannot hide out from me on the phone. She can have privacy while she talks on the phone if she would like it, but she can't say at 6:45 "I'm going to bed" and then talk and text until 3 in the morning. I'm hoping this will have the side benefit of her getting more sleep.)

Poor girl also confessed to lying about homework, so we're a little bit consequence-heavy around these parts.

(Oh, and there's a consequence for me. I was carrying around my camera for no good reason and I broke it, so now I have to buy a new one. If you have any recommendations, send them my way!)

A transcription

2011-02-20T19:14:00.002-05:00

What follows is a word-for-word transcription of my last texts with Odessa. Elaboration to follow.

2/19, 6:43 pm: Me: Sweetheart, I'm disappointed that you ignored me this afternoon when you left. Please text me to tell me where you are and when you'll be home.
2/19, 8:21 pm: Me: I'm concerned because you haven't responded to my text. Please text me to tell me you're alive and safe, where you are, and when you'll be home.
2/20, 12:16 pm: Me: Hi sweetie, have a good afternoon. Do you expect to be home for dinner?

2/20, 3:44 pm: Me: I am trying to figure out my evening. Are you planning to be home for dinner?
2/20, 3:45 pm: Odessa: No bye
2/20, 3:48 pm: Me: Thank you for letting me know. Be safe and I'll see you by 10.
2/20, 3:50 pm: Odessa: Im comin in when i feel like it
2/20, 3:52 pm: Me: No. You have been disrespectful for the last 24 hours. You will be home by 10, no arguments. There will be consequences in you are late and they will be more than just an earlier curfew for the week.
2/20, 3:55 pm: Odessa: I dont give a fuck u can do whatever the fuck u feel like im not bout to deal with that shyt do what u want...

If you look closely, you will see that I sent Odessa four text messages before she responded to any.

Yesterday she asked for her allowance. She gets her allowance on Sunday, and while I'm not averse to some flexibility, I cannot handle money on Shabbat, and she got $500 from her brother just this past Sunday. I was not unsympathetic to her desire to get her hair done, but trying to impart some real world lessons. I don't always have the money on hand for her allowance until Sunday morning, and in the real world, her pay day will be her pay day, and she won't be able to go to her boss and say "I need to get my hair done today because the girl can't do it tomorrow or Monday." Maybe the conversation could have gone better on my end, but after Odessa spent a few minutes cursing at me, she opted to put on her coat and storm out of the apartment without responding to my questions or even to my saying goodbye.

I texted her after Shabbat, the first text above.

She came home before her curfew but didn't speak to me at all. At one point I said to her that I was going to the laundry room to get my laundry, she'd had 10 hours to be mad at me, and when I got back upstairs I expected her attitude to be better.

No such luck.

This morning I left while she was still in bed. I knocked on her door, put her allowance next to her on her bed, told her I was going out and would be back later.

After I got to my car I realized I'd forgotten something, so I went back inside, at which point Odessa was awake and talking on the phone. I went back to her room and tried to get her attention (I think it's rude to interrupt someone on the phone, but would never have the opportunity to speak to Odessa if I didn't)...I mentioned her allowance, I said again that I was going out, I told her to text me if she needed me, I asked her to talk to me...nothing.

Then was the no response text early this afternoon, and then finally, after more than 24 hours, the first acknowledgement Odessa gave that I'm alive.

After the unpleasant exchange, she called her lawyer, who then called me. She told me that if Odessa isn't home by her curfew, I should call the police and tell them that I'm a foster parent and my foster daughter isn't home by curfew and to ask to file a missing persons report. I hate the idea of doing this, hate the notion of "criminalizing" being late for curfew, hate involving the police especially with these kids who think that the police are going to be called any time they do anything wrong, and wouldn't do it EXCEPT that Odessa's attorney is the only person who has been constant in her life since she's been in care, is a really great, caring attorney, shares a lot of my values, and even so she is the one who suggested this as a response.

So I'm keeping it in my back pocket as an option.

(I should add that last night there was a teenage female who was shot and killed in one of the neighborhoods where I suspect Odessa hangs out. She was home by the time I learned about this, but this is part of why I don't like it when she doesn't tell me where she is.)

Woah, you're actually interested in fostering?

2011-02-11T17:01:00.002-05:00

I caught the attention of someone on the subway today when I got snippy about the HUGE CROWD OF PEOPLE right by the door when there were many many open seats. People should realize that sitting is sometimes a good-thing-to-do, just as standing for someone who needs a seat is a good-thing-to-do. So I barely was able to get on the train, then stepped on a guy's bag nearly falling into the crowd of people, and then said a little louder than I meant to "there are seats, why is everyone crowded by the door?"

It turned out that I actually know the person whose attention I caught. Well, let me rephrase.

She knows me. Her boyfriend lives in my building but more to the point, I've met her at shul. Apparently. Still haven't a clue but we had a great conversation about how she's having 17 people over for Shabbat dinner tonight and I'm having a 17 year old over for Shabbat dinner tonight. (If she comes home. Last week she didn't get home until after I left at 6:30; I thought she'd be home by now, but she's not.)

Well, after she expressed shock that I have a 17 year old (in casual conversation I call her "my 17 year old" as opposed to "my foster daughter"--if I can avoid the fawning over how wonderful I am, I'm a happier girl), and I explained that she's my foster daughter, and she did the requisite fawning, she said that she wants to be a foster parent!

Her mother died when she was 16, she didn't have a relationship with her father, and until the last minute no one in her family was willing to step up, so she almost ended up in foster care. It turns out that the relative who did finally step up stole her social security* so she thinks she would have been better off if she had been in the system. And now she wants to be a foster parent, too. If I ever figure out her name, I'll have to keep an eye open for a two bedroom apartment for her.

* As I type this, I wonder if the relative used that money to pay for the added expenses of raising a teenager. But probably not, given how the story went.

A Meme

2011-02-07T13:13:00.002-05:00

I don't normally do the meme thing. Especially since they extremely very much often have nothing to do with the subject of this blog.

But hey, "7 deadly sins"? Talk about NOTHING to do with the blog. I've heard that the 7 deadly sins have something to do with one of those branches of Christianity. Or maybe all of them? Dunno.

Anyway, this looks particularly self-absorption-inducing and I love me some self-absorption.

I think it's "supposed" to be one sin per day, but let's just throw them all out at once:

Day 1: Pride - 7 Great Things about Yourself

Me? I've got mad skillz at hating myself.
I am the world's worst granddaughter. I could win a prize. Really.
According to the people I know in real life, I am the world's greatest humanitarian, single-handedly saving the world for all the poor kids with sucky parents.
I sleep very well.
I get lots of great ideas. It's the follow-through that's the problem.
I make a killer lime cheesecake.
I'm very good at data entry.

Day 2: Envy - 7 Things You Lack or Covet

Yarn. I mean, I have some. But I want it all.
Good friendships. Or the ability to have good friendships.
Self-confidence. Or was that not obvious already?
A house. (As in, I want to own a house. With a sunroom with tiled floor, and with a yard.)
Goals.
Athletic inclination.
Clothes that fit.

Day 3: Wrath - 7 Things that Piss You Off

People who stand by the door of the subway at rush hour when there are seats available
People who are obviously walking slower than me who cut me off in crosswalks having caught up to me at the light.
Needing to go to work.
People at work who call multiple times with the same question.
Not enough hours in the day. I need more hours, people!
When my coworkers don't answer the phone and I have to.
Stupid people.

Day 4: Sloth - 7 Things You Neglect to Do

Dishes.
Vacuum.
Wash the kitchen floor.
Change my car's oil.
Review my credit report every year.
Go to bed at a reasonable hour.
Invite people for Shabbat meals.

Day 5: Greed - 7 Worldly Material Desires

Shoes. If I go to the mall, I will undoubtedly come home with shoes that I didn't intend to buy. (I went yesterday for a specific pair/function of shoes; came home with those and another pair. Not my fault, though--Odessa made me go to the extra shoe store!)
Yarn.
Books.
DVDs of my favorite TV shows.
Earrings and necklaces.
Craft supplies.
I need a new mattress and I love to sleep; can I count a mattress as a "worldly material desire"?

Day 6: Gluttony - 7 Guilty Pleasures

Cola. I don't actually have a brand preference though I gravitate towards the one whose initials are CC. This is reason number 1 why my clothes don't fit.
Dunkin Donuts coffee with cream and sugar. This is reason number 2 why my clothes don't fit.
Grey's Anatomy and West Wing. And Glee. And Private Practice (a season and a half behind, no spoilers please).
Twitter.
French fries. Or spaghetti. Not together.
Cheese.
Anything made with ground beef. (Have you noticed that most of my guilty pleasures involve calories?)

Day 7: Lust - 7 Love Secrets

See: April Kempner from Grey's Anatomy. Though I guess that while this is a secret, it isn't so much a sin.
Oh dear G-d I have to come up with 6 more?

Race and Consequences

2011-02-02T21:27:00.002-05:00

Odessa is now quiet after about thirty minutes of very loud cursing and then a phone call with one of the many adults in her life who care about her. She had the phone on speaker for the phone call so with some effort I eavesdropped. The best line from the woman she was talking to was "cable is not a life or death thing. When you're paying your own bills, you can have cable."

[That I don't have cable is a huge thing in our house. Apparently, there is nothing in life if one doesn't have cable. I hear quite frequently when Odessa is on the phone with friends that there is nothing to do here because we don't have cable.]

Okay, so here's what happened.

Odessa had a great day at school today and I ruined it. She did not get suspended for fighting (a relief) but in my adult, parental-role opinion, I thought we needed to talk about problem solving and not punching people. I brought it up over dinner, where I learned some new vocabulary ("popping off" is swinging at someone, "I stole her" is "I punched her") and explained that I understood why she felt that she needed to preserve her dignity after her (now former) friend swung at her, but that punching someone isn't the answer. I addressed her safety and the consequences that she could potentially face if she punched someone out of a school context.

And she said "look, we're not like you. White people are calm and s***. I ain't racist but we ain't like that."

To which I responded, "It sounds to me like you're saying that black people solve their problems by hitting each other."

Yep, that's what she thinks. So from you, my loyal readers/friends: how do I respond? How do I recognize and acknowledge and celebrate differences in our backgrounds while not allowing her to think that violence is acceptable?

I know that one thing I should do is to make sure that I socialize with Odessa in situations where there are African Americans who are as calm as I am. This is a problem as we don't go anywhere together and I don't have friends over ever.

Other advice, please?

Anyway, after the part of the conversation above, I told Odessa that there were going to be consequences for fighting. I said that I was proud of her for telling me what happened and for telling me the truth, and because of that the consequences are going to be less than what they might have been. Before I was able to tell her the consequence, however, she started yelling about how "I didn't even get f***ing suspended" and "I'm done talking about this" and she stormed off to her room where she did just what I do when I'm really upset, which is to curse. Very loud.

Lots of f*** this and bit** that.

Then she called a friend and kept up the cursing. It was a lot less stressful for me with her in her room cursing. My favorite line of that first phone call was "What the fuck you gonna consequence ME for? I didn't even get fucking suspended, bitch!" Still not sure why she raised her voice and directed to me "You can call the police if you f***ing want, I ain't do nothin' man!"

So this was our evening.

(The consequence, by the way, is an evening without getting to use my/the computer. ONE evening. But not until she lets me tell her what the consequence is, so she extended it a day by not letting me tell her what it is.)

Discipline

2011-02-02T09:40:00.002-05:00

This morning Odessa knocked on my door (while I was being my typical adolescent hitting-snooze-and-fighting-waking-up self) to explain why she was in a nasty mood last night (more on that later, perhaps):

"I might be suspended."

Why? "My friend stole the money I was going to use to buy my bus pass out of my purse so I had to fight her, so I might be suspended but I haven't gotten the papers yet."

"Well, we'll talk about fighting later [keep in mind I was just waking up] but do you have enough money to get to school?"

So I gave her the money I had in my wallet (meaning that including the advances on her allowance that I gave her last week so that she could get to school*, I've given her $100 so far this week). It's not her fault that her friend stole her money and I'm not going to penalize her for it, though I do think that she would have had better luck getting the money returned if she hadn't responded by fighting. (The only conversation I can imagine in my head now is "I shouldn't have fought but she started it by stealing my money and she should have to pay me back.")

If she does get suspended, she's coming to work with me. I can find lots of scanning she can do for me so she isn't bored--and also isn't on facebook all day.

*Regarding why it sounds like she needs to use her allowance to pay for her transportation to school: where we live, there is a student transit subsidy. If she gets the card, she can pay $30/month to get to and from school. I give her that $30 at the beginning of the month. (This is the money that was stolen, though since I didn't have any $10 bills, I actually gave her $40.) If she chooses not to get the student card to buy the student pass, her transportation to and from school totals about $7/day ($35/wk vs $30/month) which comes from her allowance. She then complains about not having money from the FORTY DOLLARS PER WEEK that I give her to do things like get her hair and nails done, though we worked out her allowance together, and the $40/week was supposed to cover things like hair and nails if she used the money responsibly.

Teenagers and a kosher kitchen

2011-01-30T20:56:00.002-05:00

I got a request for more blogging about kashrut (kosher-ness). And since I just came back from the grocery store with kosher beef and a package of frozen shrimp (not to mention some other very not kosher frozen items) now seemed like as good a time as any to do so.

In eleven months, I never really figured out what Sabrina would eat. She was only with me for 4 dinnertimes a week, ate lunch at school, and ate cheerios for breakfast. Plus, she was hungry when I picked her up from school and then when we got home at 6:15 post-snack and I still needed to cook dinner, she was no longer hungry (thanks to the snack).

But I actually need to feed Odessa. Like, multiple times a day. She won't eat school lunch and is with me every day including weekends (this confuses my friends who got used to Sabrina being at her dad's on the weekend--they now think that all foster placements are for weekdays only). And she's old enough to fend for herself.

This last is really the problem.

So I've given over the microwave to her. She can have whatever she wants heated in the microwave, as long as she uses paper plates and plastic silverware. (I'm just hoping that my complete freak-out when she used a real plate in the microwave made her understand the severity of not following that rule.)

Even so, she complained to her social worker that she doesn't like what I cook. She eats what I cook, happily, so that was news to me, but it was more that I don't cook what she wants. I explained to the social worker that yes, there are rules about what can and can't happen in my kitchen and that is why Odessa isn't allowed free rein, but that I let her use the microwave, etc etc. I think that satisfied the social worker.

Well, Friday night Odessa started in on one of her mumble-the-same-thing-over-and-over-until-I-want-to-tell-her-that-if-she-says-she-wants-XX-one-more-time-she'll-never-get-it patterns, this time "I want shrimp." After about the 15th time I apologized that we can't have shrimp in the house. She got pissy, as she does frequently (she IS a teenager, after all!), and I don't want to reward that behavior, but...

I told her I would buy some not at all kosher frozen items for her and while I was in that aisle, I noticed that one of the shrimp things was on sale, so I bought it for her. I can't imagine that microwaved frozen shrimp scampi is any good, but I think that if I can get her to realize that I DO do things for her, she might be more willing to ask me to do things for her, which will make me better able to do things for her.*

*Earlier today she was on the phone with her cousin and said she couldn't go to her cousin's son's birthday party because she didn't have money to get there by public transit. (She was sitting next to her allowance, but setting that aside...) She told her cousin that she wasn't going to ask me for a ride. I was sitting right there to hear the conversation. When she got off the phone, I asked: "You're not going to ask me for a ride?" Odessa: "No." Me: "Is that because if you ask me for a ride and I say yes, then you'll be mad because you can't say that I never do anything for you, and if I say no, you'll be mad because I'm not giving you a ride?" Odessa: "Yes." The conversation then turned to how I need to be psychic. Not gonna happen. So she needs to get more comfortable asking me for things.

Language suggestions, please!

2011-01-25T07:45:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was the first day of new classes for Odessa (block scheduling). She came home with some things that I needed to sign but she got home rather late (evening credit recovery classes plus public transit problems) and was very tired and said "I'll give them to you in the morning."

It turned out that one was something I needed to sign (fine) and two were page-long "parent/guardian survey"s. As in, lots to fill out.

And it turned out that one of them was supposed to be done by today. Odessa had given it to me maybe five minutes before she needed to leave for school. So I filled out the basics (contact information) and said that I would email her teacher.

Here's the question: I don't want to completely throw Odessa under the bus for not giving me enough time to fill it out, but I don't want to place all the blame on myself because if she had given it to me last night, I would have finished it.

What should I tell her teacher?

Teenagers.

2011-01-21T07:34:00.002-05:00

I really ought to be blogging more about my experiences with Odessa. I'm taking a few moments right now to do so, even though I yikesreallyneedtobegettingreadyforwork, because there's no way I can vent/record this morning's interaction in only 140 characters!

Yesterday morning we had this conversation:
Odessa: Do I get my allowance today? or tomorrow?
Me: You get your allowance on Sundays.
Odessa: Well, I'm getting my hair done tomorrow so I need money.
Me: You get your allowance on Sundays. You need to think about whether you are going to have money before you make plans like getting your hair done.*
Odessa: She can't do it on Sunday because she won't have time to do it all.** [Walks away in a teenager-y huff.]

Last night I got home from work to be greeted by this conversation:
Odessa: Can you take me to the beauty supply shop?***
Me: Not tonight, I'm sorry. You have homework due tomorrow and I need to go to the grocery store and cook for tonight and tomorrow.
Odessa: It's just extra credit; I don't need to do it. I just want to.
Me: I'm sorry but I don't think we have time tonight.

a few moments later... Me: I'm happy to take you to the beauty supply store on Sunday.
Odessa: You don't need to take me anywhere. I'll get there myself.****

Last night, disaster with her extra credit assignment. I can't even begin to share how it went, other than that it took HOURS and involved quite a bit of cursing on Odessa's part. Frequently because I was unable to answer a question when she was the one with the computer in front of her to get the answer. Things were not improved by my refusal to write excuse notes for her absences from her history class that were either 1. before she lived with me or 2. she lived with me, but she wasn't absent from school on those days...at least not as far as I knew.

So then came this morning. I checked in with her when I woke up (she gets up before I do!) and she was still very clearly peeved with me. As in, she wouldn't answer my questions. She did, to her credit, turn down her music when I asked her to because I don't want it bothering the neighbors through her wall. She has a half day today, and it's Friday, so I was particularly interested in what she might be doing after school. And when she'll be home. So I asked:
Me: Do you have plans after school today?
Odessa: I ain't have no money so I can't go anywhere.
Me: Then I will see you when I get home from work. I'm going to go get myself ready for the day.

I went to my room and went to the bathroom. (TMI? It's relevant to the story.) There was a knock on the bedroom door while I was still...indisposed. I said "hold on a minute," finished, washed my hands, and went to open the door. There was an angry knock as I got to the door. (my interpretation? "why aren't you opening the effing door?") And then we had this conversation:
Odessa: I only have $5 on my [public transit fare card] and it's $6***** to get back home so I need $2.
Me: Okay, hold on just a second. [after rummaging in my wallet, gave her $2. Did not explicitly tell her that it is coming out of her allowance next week.]
about 45 seconds later I realized that I needed to add to the conversation:
Me: Hey Odessa? I don't always have cash on me, so it would be helpful if you could think ahead if you're going to have a problem getting to school.
Odessa: I tried to get my allowance yesterday.
Me: That wasn't my point. Yesterday when you got home, you knew you only had $5 on your card. If you had let me know then, I could have gotten cash when I went to the store if I didn't have any. [Not to mention that if I had been in the shower I wouldn't have heard the knock on the door.]
Odessa: [No response.]

I'm telling you, she's going to drive me to drink. :-)

*I didn't say quite so many words. I don't remember exactly how the conversation went. It was something like this, though.
**No, I have no idea how a weekend day has less time in it than a school day.
***Quite possibly the first time she's asked me to do something for her instead of "I need..."
****I still haven't figured out how she's planning to pay for the hair she intends to buy. Hair care is part of her allowance.
*****There is a student fare that is $30 per month. Or she can spend over $30 per week if she loses her student card. I give her $30 per month on top of her allowance; if she loses the card, she has to pay for her transportation to school out of her allowance.

Where I've been.

2010-12-23T13:51:00.002-05:00

Here I am with a teenager in my house, presumably a lot to blog about, yet I've been missing in action. Where have I been? I've been on twitter in a not terribly anonymous (okay, not at all anonymous) forum referring to Odessa as "O" (character limitations, you know) with protected tweets and only a handful of followers. But lots of interesting things about Odessa.

I have found myself more and more desirous of engaging in some other twitter conversations (local stuff) and wanting to unprotect my tweets, so I bit the bullet and created a second twitter personality. And you can follow me there! @fosterima (http://twitter.com/fosterima), not that this is such a surprising name. Much more timely, much less rambly updates.

Pics

2010-12-16T19:47:00.004-05:00

Odessa has had quite a bit of fun with my camera, taking many blog-able photos of herself that I would never have taken, such as these:

Tonight was our Christmas, as she is spending the next two weeks in another state with family and her godmother. I got some blog-able photos:

Odessa liked her presents--including the underwear, which she had asked for, and the socks, which I bought because I noticed her wearing mis-matched socks quite frequently. Gotta like a teenager who is happy to get socks for Christmas! I also bought her some books and DVDs, and a word-a-day calendar. When she gets back at the end of her winter break, there will be (hopefully!) a quilt, a scarf, and a tote bag all waiting for her, along with two necklaces that I've made already, some personalized stationery (ordered but not yet shipped to me), and probably a Starbuck$ gift card. I opted against luggage once I realized just how expensive it is, and against a computer now that I've learned how expensive teenagers are. We'll see how long Odessa ends up spending with me, and luggage and a computer could be good graduation presents.

Christmas with Odessa

2010-12-10T12:36:00.003-05:00

I am doing a real Christmas with Odessa. (Christmas itself is Shabbat, so there might be some issues, but...) We have a tree that we are going to decorate on Sunday, and I've started buying presents. Here's my list of what I'm getting her:

"cute draws" (she asked for these; I bought them last night, hooray for suburbs)
socks (she has been wearing mismatched socks; I don't know if it's a fashion statement or a lack of socks. I bought three pairs of cute regular socks and three pairs of knee-highs.)
two pairs of not-at-all-subtle tights (also bought last night)
a word-a-day calendar because she asked me to help her learn a new word a week.
two necklaces that I am going to make (I have the beads and chains, just need to make them)
books (from the used book store, I think, since I can get more books for less there)
a going-to-college-sized suitcase
a quilt that I will make
if I have time, I will knit her a scarf

She wants a digital camera, an iPod, and a laptop. I might get her a netbook if the budget allows, since this was the very first thing I thought about getting her. She has a bit of an entitlement issue (all teenagers do, and being in care I think contributes to it) so I'm a little torn about it, but I think it really will come down to budget rather than to attitude.

This list doesn't include little things that I'm sure I'll pick up over the next few weeks. But if you have any other good ideas for presents, I'm all ears!

Belated update

2010-12-10T12:18:00.003-05:00

Sorry for the complete failure to tell you all about Odessa's first week+ at my home. A few of you get my non-anonymous tweets, which is so much easier than opening a completely new browser on the computer (you know, because you can't have more than one identity open in google at the same time), etc... especially since for a few days my personal computer was non-functional (a combination of Sabrina's squirting water on the keyboard months ago and me dropping the computer off the sofa such that it broke the USB thingamajig for the external mouse). You know me, excuses, excuses...

Anyway, WOW is raising a teenager different than raising a little one. For example, you KNOW that you are going to have to drive all the way across the Big City to pick up the five year old from school. With a teenager, it's more of a last-minute thing.

Also? Natural consequences are a lot easier for teenager infractions. You're late for curfew? Your curfew is an hour earlier for the next week. You forget your key? You wait in the lobby 'til I get home. You're late for dinner? Dinner is cold.

Still, while my schedule is thrown into turmoil even more by Odessa than it was by Sabrina (see below), at least I can leave her at home alone (not sure this is legal, actually, but give me a break. I'm not getting a "babysitter" for my 17 year old so she can sit at home and do homework.

So, my schedule. Odessa lost her key. She was staying in the 'burbs with a woman she calls "mom"--the home where she is intended to go as soon as "mom" is licensed--for two days while I was visiting my sister and nephew. Tuesday she calls me after school and tells me that she forgot her key and was hungry and irritated. After another day I learned that there was more to the story, which also included why she couldn't go to the 7-11 and get a snack, but after a short conversation, we simply agreed that she would be home by 6:45. At 7:45 she sauntered in apologizing for being late. (She was also home over an hour past curfew on Saturday.) And then we had to drive to the 'burbs to get her key. Now, she had TOLD me that she had "forgotten" her key. No, she had lost her key. Not at "mom"'s house, at least not that any of the three of us could find. (I'm pretty sure that if she emptied out everything from her school bag, she'd find it. Oh well.) Consequence? The next day she would wait in the lobby for me to get home (as mentioned above). She took a snack with her to school to eat after school. And I would get a key made that evening. Instead, she had also lost her farecard for public transportation. On Saturday. But hadn't told me. So Wednesday afternoon she no longer had money to get home. She reluctantly told me, and then I had to drive across the city to pick her up. I had an appointment with my support worker that evening, so I couldn't go until after the appointment. I picked her up at about 7:15, by which time the hardware stores are all closed!

Last night, finally, I was able to go to (different) suburbs where I found a hardware store open until 9. What a relief! (Odessa was also late last night, but that was because she was with Wendy, her GAL, following a regular court hearing.) So Odessa now has another key (on a key chain that can attach to her belt loops) and there are Christmas presents under the tree. (See next post.)

Odessa really is great; all of this long rambling isn't complaint, just chronicling that she really is, in fact, a teenager! :-)

Okay, off to jot a quick post about Christmas and then I suppose I should get back to work.

The latest in the Odessa saga

2010-11-30T12:45:00.002-05:00

Odessa spent the night last night in an emergency home because I wasn't yet licensed for a teenager. (Keep in mind that I called everyone I could think of on Wednesday AS SOON AS I KNEW I NEEDED MY LICENSE EXPANDED.)

I was told that a licensing worker needed to come see my apartment. Fine, whatever. I offered for the licensing worker to come yesterday afternoon. No, they thought this morning would be better. Because of course Odessa, who has been in more than three homes in the past year, isn't being inconvenienced at all.

Wendy (the GAL, remember) and I spoke last night when she called to tell me how much she hates the Agency. She was told 1. that I didn't have a bed available and 2. they were meeting with me at that moment. "Foster Ima, they flat out lied to me!" (Not that she was surprised.)

So this morning the licensing worker came. She was 45 minutes late. She called from the lobby of my building at 35 minutes late, then had to move her car in the parking lot, and that took ten minutes. Don't ask me how. She did tell me that she "was on the wrong 5th St." (I don't live on "5th St." but that's kind of the parallel.) Brilliant.

The first comment she made about my apartment was "you have a lot of stuff. We don't like a lot of stuff."

She looked at the room-that-will-be-Odessa's, went to the bathroom, and then looked at the room again. At which point she told me "this room is stark and uninviting. This is a teenager we're talking about. We don't want her falling into a depression because the room isn't welcoming." Because I should have the room decorated already for a teenager who I don't know and who probably has pretty set preferences? I was a bit indignant because of the worker's tone, and explained that we would be going to the store together to get things for her. At which point the worker's negative attitude changed 100% to how wonderful I am. What the heck.

So Odessa should be coming tonight, at last, but I haven't heard anything back from her worker yet today, which she told me yesterday I would.

I typed up the house rules; there are only five, though there are an additional two about food and an additional three (one plus specifics) about having friends over. The first rule is my favorite: don't do anything illegal. I think that pretty much sums it up, right? ;-)

OH! Related to house rules, a quick request for more advice: Odessa has a pay-as-you-go cell phone. While at her group home, she has gotten a few dollars here and there for various things--that is, not enough to keep her phone paid for. I want her to be able to call or text me (and to be able to call or text her) reliably. I don't know what company her phone is through, but do any of you have recommendations for the most economical but reliable way to make sure that she is able to use her phone to reach me but I don't end up spending a ridiculous amount on her calling/texting friends? (To clarify: she can call or text her friends, but some pay-as-you-go "plans" have per-minute, per-text charges, and I've heard rumors that teenagers can really rack up the minutes. I don't mind paying for reasonable usage, but...) Any tips on navigating this?

Odessa update

2010-11-29T09:59:00.002-05:00

Odessa should be joining the family this evening. (Still waiting to hear from her social worker, so it could still be tomorrow, but the GAL* and I agree that tonight makes more sense.)

Her bedroom still looks like bubble gum vomited, but I put a blue blanket on the bed, so that tempers the pink-ness a bit. The play kitchen is still in the room, too. I just don't know what else to do with it.

In taking down the letters to Sabrina's name from the wall, it occurred to me that a better blog name for Odessa would have been "Gabri." That is, four of the letters in their names are the same. Anyone who knows Sabrina's real name is invited to guess Odessa's real name. Just not in the comments :-)

Last night's panic while finishing getting Odessa's room minimally ready for her? I only have kid-sized hangers in her closet. Add that to the Tar-jay list.

Trying to decide on a real tree or a fake tree for Christmas. I've never in my life dealt with a real tree, but the problem with a fake tree is storage. (Anyone have thoughts on self-storage places? This might help with the play kitchen, stroller, and passover dishes...) I'm wondering how it is that Sabrina and I never decorated last year. I had been so excited about having a reason to decorate, and then we didn't. Huh.

Thanks for the advice on house rules. I think I've got at least that small piece of things under control. (The ONLY thing I think I have under control.)

*I don't think I've ever given the GAL a blog name, but since it may end up that she and I have a longer partnership--that is, I might get all of my placements through her!--I should give her a name. Let's call her Wendy. (A name that really doesn't suit her, but follows my pattern of word association.)

Odessa

2010-11-23T22:03:00.002-05:00

It is quite possible that sometime this weekend (I assume Sunday), a 17 year old whose blog name will be Odessa will come to stay with me for a while.

I am nervous for the following reasons:
1. I haven't really contemplated the possibility of parenting a teenager. At all. So I am starting from ground zero in terms of coming up with house rules appropriate for a 17 year old. Any recommendations are very welcome.
2. My apartment is a complete disaster area. Not kidding. My depression has been in full swing for the last few weeks and so there are dirty dishes EVERYWHERE and a dead fish on the dining room table and just STUFF. I've just begged on facebook for a friend or two to come over on Friday to help me clean. I've promised money, food, and alcohol. I sure hope my plea works.
3. The bedroom is really decorated for a 5 year old girl. I should at least take the fabric letters of Sabrina's name off the wall. And maybe find something to do with the play kitchen.
4. Uh, I really was going to take a break until I got my life more together. (Yeah right, when does that ever happen?) And I only started to pull out of feeling terrible on Sunday. So what am I doing agreeing to take another kid?
5. Odessa apparently has a habit of absconding on weekends. She always (*cough* almost always) comes back for school on Monday morning, but I do worry about this piece.

Anyway, I got a bunch of details from her GAL who is the one who asked me if I could take her. (Her GAL is Sabrina's GAL, hence the connection.) It ought to be a short-term placement; there is another woman who is interested in being her foster mom--they know each other already but I didn't catch the details when the GAL told them to me--but that woman isn't licensed yet. In the meantime, Odessa's group home is closing at the end of the month.

So here we are. I'll let you all know if Odessa ends up coming to me!

Personal advice requested

2010-11-05T14:34:00.003-04:00

I want to break up with my therapist. (Needing to switch to another in the same practice due to my insurance--i.e., Kaiser.) Do I this by:
1. Sending her an email asking her to recommend someone else, or
2. Making an appointment and asking her then?

(Relatedly, my therapist's next available appointment is Dec. 2--I had to cancel an appointment back in August, then in September, and didn't make another appointment right away. Because I don't find her helpful.)

Thanks for the advice!

Sabrina went home

2010-10-25T12:42:00.002-04:00

Last Wednesday, the judge ordered that Sabrina's dad have custody. (Not actually custody, I think it was called "protected supervision" or something along those lines.) He and I agreed that the transition should occur after school on Friday, so Wednesday after school Sabrina and I had a conversation about how she was going to live with her daddy starting that weekend, and in the evening we started packing her things. (Her dad told me that she didn't need any of her things, as he has clothes and "too many" toys. However, her things are HERS. So they sure were going to go with her. However, some things I had before Sabrina came to live with me, so I let her decide if she wanted them or not.)

Thursday we shared a banana split for dinner (calcium, fruit, you know, not too bad for us!) and packed a bit more.

Friday we took a bunch of her things to school with us, then we went on a field trip (SO MUCH FUN!) and I tried to soak up all the great times. When we got back from the field trip, all the kids whose moms went with us went home early, and I stayed at school with Sabrina, the one girl who went on the trip without a parent, and the three kids from the class who didn't go on the trip. Her social worker picked her up at the end of the day, we all walked to the social worker's car, and then I had almost no opportunity for a good goodbye.

However, I still have a bunch of Sabrina's things, so I am going over tonight to take them. I hope that dad will let me have a few minutes with her. And I hope that dad doesn't get rid of her things.

But you don't care about the logistics. You care about how I'm doing. My friends on facebook have said all sorts of sappy things about how special I am and how much of a difference I made in Sabrina's life and how admirable it is that I did this... Gag me. :-)

Honestly, though, despite the bit of denial, I think I'm okay with this transition. I've known since day two that Sabrina would end up with family. And she spent every weekend and all summer with her dad. So it isn't like I've had an adorable five year old appendage all week every week for the past 11 months and now there's an emptiness in my apartment.

At the same time, though, I was shopping yesterday for a piece of Sabrina's Halloween costume (her dad and I agreed that I would handle the costume) and kept seeing things that Sabrina would like, and had to remind myself that I shouldn't buy them.

I won't be asking to be put on the vacancy list for a little while, as I need to really dedicate myself to straightening my life out, so in the meantime I emailed Sabrina's GAL (who asked me before court on Wednesday, "should we be talking about your next placement?" This before anything was official. I think she has some kids who aren't in ideal settings for them) to ask if she has any kids who would appreciate and/or benefit from a family Thanksgiving. I know that my parents would be okay with an additional guest for the day. So we'll see how she responds.

And that's where things are for now.

An interesting read

2010-10-25T10:07:00.002-04:00

I wish this had paid more attention to adoption (I think I saw a grand total of one reference) and fostering (no references), but still a relevant and interesting read: http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/ideas/articles/2010/10/24/johnny_has_two_mommies__and_four_dads/?page=full

(I'll post about Sabrina going home later. I'm still traveling down that river in Egypt...)

Court today

2010-10-20T10:23:00.002-04:00

This has to be a quick update, as I am busily discovering all the interesting things that happened in my Big City when I was three years old. (That is, doing work.) But it would be wrong to let the possibility of big things go unremarked here.

There is a hearing in an hour and a half in Sabrina's mom's case. I haven't yet spoken with Sabrina's GAL (a bit of phone tag) so I don't know what she is going to recommend, but I have been steeling myself for the possibility that the judge will allow Sabrina to live with her dad. I've also been steeling myself for dad to be P-I-$-$-E-D if the judge says no, on account of his new apartment having only one bedroom. But dad does have a new apartment, in the Big City, which takes his home county (in another state) out of the equation.

I talked to Sabrina last night about the possibility that she would go live with her dad. I'm absolutely positive that I didn't handle the conversation as well as I should have. I'm not absolutely positive that bringing it up was a good idea at all. I suppose that I'll regret it if the judge says she has to stay with me, and be glad I did it if she gets to live with dad.

My big logistical hopes for her in the event that she gets to live with her dad are that he lets her stay at her current school (which is terrible, but no worse than the neighborhood school where dad's apartment is, and she has friends there) and that he is able to take her to ballet. She starts ballet this afternoon and she is nervous about it, but I am pretty sure that she will love it once she sees that she won't be performing on stage in front of an audience today. I reassured her that I get nervous before I do something for the first time, too.

And because it wouldn't be a Sabrina-related post if I didn't complain about the back and forth with dad at least once: somehow we have three winter coats at my house (I bought none of them) and zero fall/spring jackets (I bought two). Weather today? Definitely jacket weather. Oh well.

And now, to wait and see what happens at court...

Status update

2010-10-09T21:04:00.002-04:00

Sabrina's dad has an apartment in my Big City. This takes his state and county out of the picture and leaves only the Agency and the court to make the decision about whether Sabrina can go to live with him. There is a hearing scheduled for next Wednesday (that is, a week and a half) so I imagine that nothing will happen until then. That would be the extent of my certainty about the situation. The apartment is only one bedroom, but the social worker told me she's fine with it. Sabrina has seen it, in fact, for her visit with mom on Thursday they all went to the apartment. Interesting.

I talked to dad on the phone yesterday from his new cell phone (I had tried texting him on Wednesday and got an out of service reply--isn't the beauty of pre-paid phones that you even if you let the payment lapse, you still have the phone and can just put more money on it? I wonder why he got a new phone) when the school called me at about 11:30 (I missed the calls from the school because I was chatting with a coworker and only happened to get back to my desk right before he called from his cell phone; I wonder how many times they were going to try to reach me if I had been out at a meeting or something) to ask if he had permission to pick her up. I guess the principal was out and so the administrator who was there didn't know that he picks her up on Fridays and didn't look at any of the many forms I provided stating that he picks her up on Fridays. But I'm glad that they called because otherwise I wouldn't have known that he was picking her up early. Why, I asked him. Oh, "we have some things to take care of." Could he BE any vaguer? Frustrating.

He and I talked about Sabrina's extremely expensive field trip that is in two weeks. Sabrina told me she wanted her dad to go with her, I wanted to be the one to go with her, I talked to dad and he doesn't want to take off from work. Good, that means that I'm paying $40 to enjoy the farm with Sabrina, not paying $40 and not getting to enjoy the farm. Yes, it's $20/person to go to a farm. And each kid has to have an adult. I'm fine with the field trip. (Though to be honest there are more educational farm trips than this one.) I'm fine with the requirement that each kid have a grown up with them. I can afford the field trip. But Sabrina's school is incredibly low income. (Last year, 159 students were tested for NCLB requirements. 138 qualified as economically disadvantaged.) And they are planning field trips that cost FORTY DOLLARS??? (The school also has a thing against checks; I don't want to make a special trip to the ATM just to pay for a field trip.)

I signed Sabrina up for ballet. Our city recreation department only offers ballet at one rec center which is about as far from her school as possible while still being in the city. I'll have to take off work to take her to class, but I'm going to be royally annoyed if her dad decides not to take her (if he gets custody, that is).

I'll also be royally annoyed if he switches her school to the neighborhood school where his apartment is, since the plan all along has been that he will move back to his parents' house with Sabrina after the agency closes the case, and I don't want her to have an extra change of schools after I was told that I couldn't enroll her in the better school where I live because she was going to go live with dad.

Among the many things on my to-do list for this weekend is to buy the makings for Sabrina's Halloween costume. Dad and I agreed that I could deal with the costume. She wants to be Tinkerbell, which she apparently was last year as well.

I ordered the materials to make Christmas presents for her female relatives, though I have no idea what she should do for her dad and grandpa. For the women in the family, I am going to print photos of Sabrina onto shrinky dink paper (which they make for inkjet printers, believe it or not), punch holes, bake, and turn into necklaces. Any ideas for the men?

And that's where things are :-)

Quick Update

2010-10-04T09:56:00.002-04:00

Last week Sabrina learned to snap!

And even more excitingly, last week was the first time that she responded "I love you, too" when I told her that I love her!

Sadly, our fish Tracy passed away this weekend. Contrary to my expectation, dead fish do not all float. I have left Tracy for Sabrina to see, and she and I will go to replace Tracy (if Sabrina wants) on Wednesday. (Today we have to stop by the Agency because my worker hasn't seen me in a while and she's required to, and tomorrow we're having friends over for dinner.)

Terminology

2010-09-21T11:43:00.002-04:00

Just last night I was thinking that it might be time to talk to Sabrina more about why she lives with me, how I don't know how long it's going to last, etc. Yes, I should have been talking to her about this all along, and it's not to say that I haven't been, just that it was time for something more in depth. (Age appropriate, but more in depth.) I've never used the phrase "foster care" or "foster mom" with her. Whenever someone at her school asks me "is she your daughter?" I answer that "she is just living with me for a while."

But this morning, she asked me "are you my foster mother?"

I don't know who has been using that phrase with her, but she and I are clearly on the same wavelength!

2 and 1

2010-08-31T20:34:00.002-04:00

Two cute Sabrina stories:

This morning in the car Sabrina was singing something along the lines of "I like your funk. I like your funk. I like you [something else]. I like your [the same something else]. I like your funk. I like your funk...." And she went straight from that into Miss Mary Mack.

This evening Sabrina was practicing writing her name and after she wrote one of the letters stood up on her chair and said "I've got it goin' on!"

And one gripe:

While at her dad's house this weekend, Sabrina got a lunchbox. (Not actually a lunchbox, to be honest, but a tin box that LOOKS like a lunchbox.) Today she asked me if she could take a snack to school in it. A snack, mind you. Not lunch. The one time that I packed a lunch for her last year because she asked me to, she didn't eat it. She eats school lunch. I think everyone at her school eats school lunch. Anyway, a snack. I figured she wanted it for aftercare. I packed her a package of those horrid pre-cheesed crackers, grapes, and a juice. When I picked her up from school, she said "My teacher told me you need to give me a sandwich." Excuse me? 1. It wasn't supposed to be her lunch. 2. A lunch doesn't need to have a sandwich. 3. I'm tired of everyone at her school implying that I'm not a good parent figure. (Paranoid much? This morning the aide from Sabrina's pre-k class saw that she needed to wash her face--she had a bit of a milk beard, to be honest, and I had let it slide since I didn't notice it until we were in the car--and did that annoying mother thing of rubbing her thumb on Sabrina's face and then dragging her to the bathroom.) Wow, didn't mean to gripe for that long. Anyway, we went to the grocery store to buy lunch-appropriate foods, so if she doesn't want it anymore, I'm going to be (a little) annoyed.

Off to get tomorrow's lunch ready.

Homework, part the 94th

2010-08-31T10:05:00.002-04:00

I finally got the opportunity to talk to Sabrina's teacher this morning. (I say "finally" because I wrote her a note on Wednesday asking her to call me, wrote another note on Friday--that one just explaining why Sabrina hadn't done her homework, not asking her to call--and thought I would see her yesterday at aftercare but was wrong.) The note I wrote on Wednesday said something jargon-ish like "I want to talk to you about how best to support what you are doing in class." What was in the back of my head was "she has too much homework, so what do you want me to do, skip dinner or skip getting enough sleep?"

So this morning she apologized for not calling--totally reasonable, she intended to call me over the weekend but is caring for her ill mother and didn't get around to it--and then promptly said "you can support what we are doing in class by doing the homework." At that point I explained that we were spending a half hour on it and not finishing it, that we have only an hour and a half between getting home and bedtime, and I'm the only adult in the house and just can't prepare dinner and help with homework at the same time. I also explained that we talk about school in the car (for example, yesterday's homework included finding words that start with "F" so we brainstormed those words, as well as other things like rhyming and opposites) but she can't write in the car! I agreed with her that Sabrina does need practice with writing but was just feeling hamstrung by not having enough time in the day. So we agreed that we could switch back and forth between reading and math homework, and I think we're doing to focus on writing more instead of the finding pictures part.

She also told me that by the end of the year, the kids are expected to be able to count by 2s and 5s to 110 (why 110, and not 100, is beyond me). And after they get to 20 (2 more weeks), the next project is to learn their address and phone number. After last Thursday's adventure with mom, I'm a little nervous about teaching her our address! She knows the apartment number and recognizes the building, and I did already start working on teaching her my street name, and it's super important for safety reasons for kids to know their address. But I'm nervous anyway. I told her teacher that I'm a little nervous about it, and we'll just figure something out, whether it's teaching her my address despite my nervousness, or teaching her her dad's address.

Or maybe dad will have moved to my big city by then?

Who am I kidding.

Adventures in Emergency Response

2010-08-26T21:18:00.002-04:00

The email that I just sent to Sabrina's social worker, names changed:

Wilma,
Thanks for your call today. I didn't expect to need to email you again so soon after we spoke, however a serious incident occurred this afternoon.

I arrived at school to pick Sabrina up from aftercare, and she was sitting with her mother (and cousins). The school properly did not let [Mom] leave with Sabrina, but I do not know how long she was there. (Incidentally, it turns out that she does not appear to be pregnant.)

More seriously, she walked with us to my car, and when she saw that my car is messy (cereal on the floor, wrappers from string cheese), she called 911. She actually called 911 three times, all while standing next to Sabrina and preventing me from closing the car door. The whole episode lasted about 15 minutes (I'm estimating) and was visibly stressful for Sabrina (as it was for me). Additionally, Sabrina now believes that a messy car is "an emergency" for which it is appropriate to call 911.

I do know, in case it is significant, that the third time [Mom] called 911 she spoke with Officer Jones, badge number xxxx, and I suspect that she made a particular effort to note my license plate number. The first two times she called 911 she was unable to answer their questions or speak rationally; the third time I was on the phone with [Sabrina's attorney/GAL] and therefore wasn't licensing to what she told the dispatcher.

For my peace of mind, please let me know what you will be doing in response to this incident.

Thank you,

Homework, part 2

2010-08-25T00:03:00.002-04:00

The conservative estimate for time spent on homework tonight is a half hour. (As in, I think it was longer. It was definitely no shorter than a half hour.)

Sabrina got some sort of talking-to at school today about her homework not being done; I'm not sure if it was a "YOU NEED TO DO YOUR HOMEWORK OR YOU'RE GOING TO BE IN TROUBLE" type of talking to or if it was a "sweetie, you need to listen to your foster mom when she tells you to do your homework" type of talking to, but it's the only thing that Sabrina told me about school today.

We did most of her homework, meanwhile I forgot to cook dinner so we had cereal with fruit because if we get home at 6:30 and bedtime is 8:00 and homework takes over a half hour and I'm the only adult in the house... We skipped bathtime tonight because we just didn't have time. Tomorrow night the GAL is coming over so maybe she can help Sabrina with her homework while I make dinner. There truly are not enough hours in the day.

Now, if I could get the social worker to allow me to enroll Sabrina in my much better and much closer neighborhood school, we'd have an hour and a half extra each day plus she'd get to spend two hours with a babysitter doing homework and fun things instead of aftercare. I know that that the school year has now started already, but a week in shouldn't be too bad a time to switch, right? (I don't think I have any readers who think I foster "for the money" but in case I do: I just spent over $100 on school uniforms for the current school that she won't need if she switches to my neighborhood school, and aftercare at her current school is free but I would need to pay a babysitter if she goes to the neighborhood school. Still I want her to go to my neighborhood school for her own benefit.)

I need a second grown up in the house, and then I need that person to keep me on task, limit my computer time, and tell me when to go to bed. Because I really should NOT be up right now!

Happy first week of school!

Clarification

2010-08-24T12:31:00.003-04:00

Yesterday I mentioned the possibility that Sabrina's mom is pregnant. I don't think I have any "foster-parents-are-baby-snatchers" readers, but in case, I do, I just want to clarify that when I said that I am willing to buy a crib and do whatever I need to do in order to have the (possible) baby live with me, I mean that 1. IF someone else makes the decision that the baby can't stay with Mom and 2. IF the baby's dad is unknown or unavailable or 3. IF someone else makes the decision that the baby can't stay with its dad and 4. IF someone else makes the decision that another relative of the baby shouldn't have the baby, THEN I think it's important to do what is possible to keep Sabrina and any siblings together, so the social worker should be aware that I am happily willing to take care of the baby.

So please don't think that I am actively seeking out ways to get the baby into my hot little hands.

Homework

2010-08-23T21:59:00.002-04:00

Pre-K homework was bad. Kids too young for homework, and then 4 worksheets a night? No way is that appropriate.

Kindergarten homework is going to kill me. Kids are still too young for homework. And what's up with no nap for 5 year olds in full day kindergarten? I went to half-day kindergarten and we had a nap period that was more than just putting our heads on our desks.

Oh yeah, homework. I have issues with it, but at least it is reasonable. (So far.) Practice writing your name. Write the letter A and a. Write the numbers 0 and 1. Okay, so Sabrina had a meltdown when asked to write her name, making the rest of it a little touch and go. (She wrote--traced, actually--her name once, not the recommended three times, and didn't write the letters OR the numbers.) But the rest of it. Oh, the rest of it. Cut out or draw three pictures of words starting with the letter A. Cut out or draw three pictures representing the numbers 0 and 1.

First: lawyer magazines? Great for words starting with A if you are an adult (ooh, there's another one): abacus (in an ad...and yet another one!), attorney (not obvious from the pictures but hey, it was a lawyer magazine), Alan Greenspan. Not so good if you're in kindergarten. (Here I insert another aside: I'm flipping through the magazine and come across the abacus picture. I say out loud "oh, an abacus. If I give you this one, your teacher will know that I helped you. Because five year olds don't know what an abacus is." To which Sabrina replied, "I know what it is." Me: "Really?" S: "Yes, it's like the monument." Me: "Oh close, that's an OBELISK." I'm on a mission to make Sabrina the only kid in kindergarten who knows what an obelisk is.)

Second: Lands End? Sells a lot of things that start with B. We'll be all set tomorrow. Today? Not so much.

Third: IKEA? Also not helpful.

Fourth: I don't have anything else with pictures. Really.

Fifth: Sabrina has this perfection complex so she won't draw anything because she "doesn't know how." I'm working on it, but it's slow. Anyway, I don't know how to draw an ant or an airplane either, so who am I to ask her to do it?

Sixth: We didn't even think about the math part of the homework because hello, zero is a really hard concept and, um, how do you draw zero other than in contrast to something else?

The rest of the week is the same: B, 2, and 3 on Tuesday; C, 4, and 5 on Wednesday; D, 6, and 7 on Thursday; and E, 8, and 9 on Friday. Because yes. It is kindergarten and they have homework on the first day of school and homework on Fridays.

Ugh.

Not what I was expecting from five

2010-08-23T21:32:00.002-04:00

We went to the pharmacy to pick up Sabrina's prescriptions. As we were leaving the store, I noticed that she was holding a lip balm. A lip balm, I should add, that we didn't pay for.

I took her back to the pharmacy part of the pharmacy where she found it and told her that she needed to hand it to the pharmacist and tell her that she was sorry that she took it, that it was wrong, and that she wouldn't do it again. I seem to recall reading that this is how parents deal with their teenagers shoplifting.

But she's only five.

Sigh.

First day of kindergarten!

2010-08-23T11:31:00.004-04:00

In no particular order; my brain is on ADD mode:

I took the obligatory first day of school photo, but it is on my phone and for Sabrina's parents only anyway.
***
We were late to school because the social worker scheduled Sabrina's annual physical for this morning. Only she didn't. It is on the 23rd of SEPTEMBER.
***
The system-wide school supply list bears little resemblance to the school-specific school supply list, at least for kindergarten. I now need to buy these additional items (most of which make sense, but weren't on the system-wide list): 2 folders, 3 composition books, 1 additional box of kleenex, and 2 bottles of hand sanitizer (which I don't think they should be using; sorry but I think a little bacteria every now and then is good for kids' immune systems). I don't need to buy, because I bought them already even though they weren't on the list, pencils, scissors, and paper.
***
I took today off so am sitting in a coffee shop. I was looking forward to this vanilla latte since Friday when I developed the plan to stay near school for the day. It's not that fabulous.
***
Sabrina's grandma called me yesterday and said that SHE wants Sabrina to go to the school near me. I agree but I do what I'm told. And I was told to enroll her in her old school. Where her new teacher, like her old teacher, doesn't know how to pronounce her name. There's no L in Sabrina's real name.
***
I don't know what the temperature is outside, but the sky is a nice clear blue. A good view from the window of the coffee shop.
***
While we were at our (basically) unnecessary visit to the doctor this morning, Sabrina was fantastically well-behaved. (She has been ever since she got back on Saturday afternoon. Yes, I realize I'm tempting fate.) I praised her multiple times; the last time she told me it was because G-d told her to be good. She told me that G-d is in her heart. She then asked me if I know G-d, then asked if G-d is a girl or a boy. That last was a difficult question to answer! I think she got some heavy-duty indoctrination* from her Grandma over the two months of the summer!
***
Sabrina keeps talking about getting a new baby sister. She was talking about a baby sister or baby brother at the end of last school year. Now it's more specific, only a sister, telling me what babies need (bottles, pacifiers, diapers, and car seats), wanting to knit something for her baby sister, and saying that her mom told her she would have a baby sister in 2 or 7 weeks. I think an email to the social worker is in order, volunteering to buy a crib and get licensed for two kids, if the plan is removal. (Since my boss, in my office of only five people, just had a baby on Saturday, it might be a problem to have two of us on parental leave at the same time, so hopefully 7 weeks is closer to accurate than 2! If there is, in fact, any baby at all, and if said baby does end up in my home.)
***
We did make use of being at the doctor's office this morning to get a new prescription for Sabrina's inhaler. The doctor gave me a prescription for quantity=2 so one can go to dad's house and one can stay with me, hooray!
***
It's amazing how un-crowded the walk-in clinic is on the first day of school!
***
I found my camera cord (under the dining room table; no, I did not clean at all until my frenzied mental health day on Friday) and there are some great pics of Sabrina that don't show her face!

She loves her construction set. She loves the trains even more, but all of those pictures have her face. She also loves the legos; but I'm still working with her on free-form play with the trains and legos. She is pretty insistent that they be "right" and she doesn't "know how to do it."

She also loves bubbles, but isn't so good at blowing them herself. Instead, I blow bubbles until I have a headache from the forced exhaling, and she runs after the bubbles to pop them. Or, like yesterday, catch them on her tongue. Yuck. It's nontoxic but I know it tastes bad; I got some on my lips when it dripped from the wand.

I hope that one eye only is confidential/private enough. I think this was her trying to catch bubbles on her tongue, though it wasn't yesterday so I don't remember. It might just have been her being uncooperative when I wanted to take a picture!

This is her in the dress I knit for her, that she doesn't like. I don't have any good pictures of her in it because she thought she looked "ugly" and wouldn't let me take any pictures. I thought she was going to grab the camera out of my hand after I took this one. I understand the feeling.

Sabrina loves smelling flowers. Every time we take a walk she stops to "smell the roses." Here they are actual roses; but she'll smell anything that's a color other than green.

*I don't mean indoctrination in its negative sense, but can't think of a less laden term at the moment.

Oh, Shabbat...

2010-08-21T23:01:00.002-04:00

Sabrina came back to my house today! We had a great few hours, but that's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about Sabrina's dad, and Shabbat.

There are many things that I don't do on Shabbat. One of those things is use the phone.

I happened to be right next to where my phone was charging, however, late this morning (we'll not talk about why I wasn't in shul), when the phone rang and I could see that it was Sabrina's dad. After all the chaos of the last few days, I wondered if he was calling to say "I don't care what anyone says, she's not coming back to you." But there wasn't anything I could do about it, so I just let it slide.

Fast forward to 9:30 this evening when I have finally gotten Sabrina in bed. I check my phone and see that I have NINE missed calls and four voice mails. Some of the missed calls were from numbers I didn't recognize. All four voice mails were from Sabrina's dad, as was the text message I also received.

Message 1: When is the first day of school? I want to be there.
Message 2, 10 minutes later: You really need to answer your phone. This isn't right.
Message 3, 8:43 pm while we were reading a story: Yeah, uh, I was just called to talk to [Sabrina]. You need to answer your phone.
Message 4, 8:46 pm, from Grandma: I just wanted to make sure that [Sabrina] made it there safely. G-d bless you.

Text message: When is the first day of school?

I texted him back saying that 1. school starts on Monday but the agency made her physical appointment for Monday morning, so we are going to be late to school and I don't know what time we will get there, and 2. I'm sorry I wasn't able to answer the phone today but we should be available tomorrow except when we are in the car. Hopefully that will appease him.

(Brief update on fun with Sabrina: 1. she definitely still wears a size 4. Her new PJs, size 5/6, literally fall off her. 2. I love how polite she is! 3. We had birthday cake--her birthday was Monday--and she now wants me to give away the rest of the cake so that we can make cupcakes :-) 4. I got no mosquito bites all summer until we went to the playground today.)

I now need to get myself to bed as I don't have any idea what time we'll be waking up in the morning!

Clustercurseword

2010-08-19T00:37:00.002-04:00

It is too late for me to be blogging, but since I needed to log in to this account to respond to a comment (hi Bryna!) I figured I should give a quick update on the clustercurseword that is Sabrina's relationship with the child welfare system.

School starts Monday (I hope that enough school systems start Monday that I'm not giving anything away about my location) and Sabrina has been with her dad all summer. Her birthday was earlier this week as well, so I called to wish her a happy birthday, see how she's doing, see if anyone had done ANYthing to prepare her to come back to me, make arrangements with her dad to pick her up, etc.

Sabrina has better phone skills than me and I am convinced is more polite than I am as well. What a sweetheart. Unfortunately: 1. someone (I assume dad) got her a Barbie car for her birthday so I have to do a lot to buy her love, and 2. no one had told her anything about needing to come back to my house. Nice, being the bearer of bad news.

Then I come to learn the reason why no one has told her that she would be coming back to my house: dad has done all sorts of things as if Sabrina is just with him for now and forever--enrolled her in school near his house (remember, he's in another state entirely), bought her school uniforms (I'm sorry, but any school whose uniform is a yellow top and green bottom needs to reconsider), registered her for piano lessons and another after school program--and when I tried to talk to him, he got snotty and then hung up on me.

As if that weren't bad enough, either he refuses to talk to Sabrina's social worker, or Sabrina's social worker isn't trying hard enough to reach him. So while dad kept saying (before he hung on me) "well, you need to talk to Wilma"--to which my responses were generally along the lines of "Wilma would say exactly what I am saying"--he hasn't spoken to her himself. As soon as I got off the phone with dad, I emailed Wilma, Wilma's supervisor, and the GAL (followed up with a second email after I received text messages from dad with the details of school/uniforms/after school activities and a statement that "maybe you should tell Wilma that Sabrina isn't the foster child for you") with the situation.

Guess who I did not hear from at all today? Guess who the GAL didn't hear from at all today? That's right, Wilma. The GAL spoke with the supervisor and then I spoke with the GAL. The GAL told me first that Sabrina is going to have to come back to me on Friday, which is fine although my apartment is STILL a wreck (I did finally get rid of the plants that were sitting, dead, on the dining room table when Sabrina was last here) and better for transition for Sabrina, but I don't know if the agency will ultimately agree. The GAL also told me--and this I was extremely relieved by--that the agency will have to pick Sabrina up from her dad's house and bring her to me. I expected to go myself, but after the call yesterday, I wanted to have "back up" with me to support my right to bring her to my house. And the GAL said I shouldn't have to go at all, yippee! I just need to make a list of the things that are at dad's house that Sabrina needs to bring back to my house. Like her inhalers. And the umbrella that I bought for her, and one of the two pairs of sunglasses, and the blanket I knit for her. I have no problem if things that I buy for her end up at dad's house, but I won't buy an umbrella a week or a pair of sunglasses a week just because Sabrina takes them to her dad's and then doesn't bring them back.

I still need to register Sabrina for school, and the GAL said I should hold off on enrolling her in my neighborhood school (if Sabrina goes to live with her aunt in a month or two, it does make sense--sort of mostly--for her not to have an extra school change) until we have a conversation with the social worker and her supervisor, but who knows if that's going to happen.

Even before this mess, I was talking to a friend who said I should tell the agency director about my troubles. But this friend has political clout in his job, and I'm just the local equivalent of a civil servant and have no professional relationship with the director, only with his chief of staff. So... who knows. I haven't made that decision yet.

I didn't miss Sabrina as much as I "should" have this summer, but I'll tell you what was really nice about her not being here: I didn't have to deal with the agency OR with her dad. It was nice while it lasted.

Free and Reduced Price Meals

2010-08-11T16:41:00.002-04:00

Help! I'm filling out the FARM application for Sabrina (free and reduced meals, love that it's missing the word "price") and want to know what other foster parents do:

1. Section 1 of the application is for foster kids. It asks "the amount of this child's personal monthly use income." First of all, the grammar doesn't make sense to me, but more importantly, what does this mean? Is this "how much does the agency give you each month for the child?" Or is it "I'm 5 and am just a kid, I have no income"?

2. Section 4 of the application is parent/guardian info. I'm not the guardian, the agency is. And it asks for social security number. I naively don't have too many fears about giving out my social security number (at least in contexts where it makes sense) but am I supposed to fill this section out as a foster parent? And the piece about my income? What do you do?

Ridiculousness and birthday party update

2010-07-16T15:42:00.003-04:00

Thanks for your feedback on the birthday party issue! I decided to bite the bullet and do Chuck E. Cheese--Sabrina would be happy, I could invite her family, etc.

Then I went to court.

Dad's ICPC petition was denied. So dad isn't getting custody.

But Sabrina can stay with him for the rest of the summer.

So I'm off the hook for planning a birthday party at all.

Sabrina will get some therapy to prepare her for coming back to me when school starts, so it isn't a horrible shock for her (though it will still be horrible for her!), and dad is considering moving into our jurisdiction so he can get custody, and the agency will look at dad's sister as a possible placement.

And mom is just crazy.*

*The GAL's assessment, not mine!

Birthday party ideas?

2010-07-15T21:47:00.003-04:00

HELP! Sabrina's birthday is in about a month, and all this time I've been assuming that she would be with her dad for her birthday. Ever since November she has been insistent that she is having her birthday at Chuck E. Cheese. Oy. Madame Naivete that I am, I never thought Sabrina was still going to be with me, then there was this whole summer thing, and so I also never tried to talk her down from that idea.

I don't believe in planning a party that requires us to drive 40 minutes or more to get to when we live in a city with all sorts of fun things to do.

Am I being selfish? Should I "give in" and scope out Chuck E. Cheese (where I haven't been since a birthday party when I was 6)? What are non-Chuck E. Cheese similar ideas?

Public Service Announcement

2010-07-12T19:31:00.003-04:00

I went to the Children's Place outlet yesterday, and in 15 minutes for $100, I bought a full (that should read "full") two weeks worth of clothes for Sabrina. Shirts, pants, shorts, and a spring jacket. All $4.99 or less. I assume they are having the same discounts at all of their outlets. But I also assume that supply will dwindle. (Ooh, anyone get the West Wing reference?)

Plans

2010-07-09T19:30:00.002-04:00

Sabrina's dad didn't call me back, but I talked to Wilma and am not stressing too much. She'll talk to dad during the week and then I'll call him to make plans to pick Sabrina up and bring her back to my house for the rest of the summer. I've enrolled her in camp (holy smokes the JCC is expensive, thank goodness for a friend who reminded me about the city's recreation department for a sixth the cost) for the last four weeks of the summer and only have to worry about one week of finding supervision and activity for her.

Court is Friday (did I say it was on Thursday yesterday? I put it on my calendar wrong, oops) and who really knows what the judge will do. Wilma doesn't know what the basis is for the report she gave me that it "doesn't look good" for placement with dad. That is what she was told by the ICPC folks in the agency, but she hasn't seen a written report with justification.

Since I won't be seeing Sabrina this Sunday, I have another week to clean up the disaster area that my apartment has become in the last three weeks--really, it is worse than it was before even though I was supposed to be using this time to make it better--make some dentist appointments, make a back-to-school physical appointment, buy play clothes, figure out what to send with her for lunches to camp (if I need to; since it is through the city, the summer nutrition--that is, summer carryover of the free lunch program--program might provide lunches at camp), and do about a gazillion other things.

After court, I'll register her for school.

No clue if anyone else in Sabrina's family will be available as an alternative placement. All I know is that Wilma reports that mom has been asked for other options, and she hasn't given any (at least, not any who she has already asked if they would be willing).

So we'll see what happens, and we'll see what becomes of the weekend visits with dad.

And in the meantime, I am going to spend this evening reading in front of the air conditioner.

Shabbat shalom!

Update

2010-07-08T21:37:00.002-04:00

Sabrina has been staying with her dad since school ended (actually since the Friday before school ended, because she was home sick that Monday so her dad just took her to school for the last day and then picked her up). She needs to spend an unspecified number of nights with me every thirty days so that her being with dad isn't a "placement." So I called dad on Monday and made arrangements to pick her up on Sunday. Today I called to firm up details and he said "oh, this Sunday? We have plans this weekend."

Court is next Thursday.

Wilma (social worker) emailed me today to say that she doesn't have the written report, but that the oral report is not good for dad getting custody. I emailed her back asking what that means about visits. There's also a ton of other family. If this means that we'll be indefinitely and semi-permanently in a state of 4-nights-with-me-3-nights-with-dad I am going to have to have some serious words with someone. Because that just isn't working out for me. (As in, it's not good for Sabrina, even though it is good for her to see her family.)

Wilma's email also implied that I should be figuring out what to do with Sabrina during the day for the rest of the summer. Because of course all sorts of good camps have openings still halfway through the summer. (And most of what I've found is only for half days. This makes sense, as she is only 4. But I'm not good at simultaneous planning--lining up a babysitter AND camps at the same time.)

So that's where we are. Limbo, as all good foster care placements should be. (Hi, Sarcasm? It's just me calling. How are ya?)

Hatefulness

2010-06-30T11:40:00.002-04:00

Wow, I am a hate-filled hater today. I need to get something off my chest and this is the only >140 characters forum in which I am anonymous. (Not that I'm anonymous on Twitter, but I have fewer than 40 followers and my tweets are locked.)

I have a co-worker who does the following things that annoy me:
1. When she answers the phone and it is for me (I am also annoyed by the people who have my desk number but call the main office number anyway), she yells all the way across the office to see if I'm at my desk. It's bad enough when my boss, whose office is right next to mine, calls to me at my desk. But there are acres between my office and this co-worker's. And the air conditioning in my office is LOUD. I can barely hear my boss when she calls to me.

2. When she calls to me from her office for other reasons. I get it, really I do, that if our administrative savior isn't at his desk and this coworker is on the phone and someone comes into the office that I'm the next person in line to help the person who has come in. And I'm happy to. But, I don't know, shoot me a quick email. I'll get it. And I'll go help the person. If you yell all the way across the office, I won't hear you.

3. When I vent about something (this morning it was that my email crashed when I tried searching in it), she tries to solve my problem. No really, I don't need to call tech support because my email crashed repeatedly. Actually, I just need to restart my computer.

4. And did I mention when she yells across the office to me? I did? Oh.

(Side note: Sabrina is allowed to be with her dad for up to 30 days--at 30 days it becomes a "placement"--so she's been with him for a week and a half. I miss her but it has been nice to sleep until 7:45 in the mornings!)

This arrangement is not working for me

2010-06-21T15:41:00.003-04:00

You might recall that Sabrina spends every weekend with her dad. We're really just waiting for dad's county to get off their fat bottoms and approve placement with him. The back and forth is pretty draining, not good for consistent discipline and expectations, etc., but good for Sabrina since she gets to spend so much time with her dad.

But today is a good example of why this arrangement is not working for me.

On Monday mornings I drive all the way across the city, park near Sabrina's school, and go to work, so that my car will be in the right place to pick her up. This is what I did this morning. (Yes, school is still in session.)

Tomorrow is the last day of school, so I called dad to confirm that he is picking Sabrina up after school tomorrow. (I was working on arranging a job interview for Wednesday and needed to make sure I didn't need to find a baby-sitter.) Imagine my surprise when Sabrina answered the phone.

She was sick this morning so they kept her home. Fine. But, I don't know, maybe CALL ME so that I know not to pick her up at school?

That's inconvenience number 1. (Not really adding in that now my car is on the other side of the city, I have to pay for parking that is ultimately unnecessary, and on top of it I have to drive home during rush hour. Oh well, water under the bridge.)

But I also had this big plan to make sure to tell Sabrina to say good-bye to her friends to prep her for not going to the same school next year. If she lives with her dad, she'll be going to school by him, and if she still lives with me, she is going to my neighborhood school. And I think she should have some warning about this. But I don't know that she's going to get that since now her aunt is taking her to school AND picking her up tomorrow. (Still just assuming; I left a message on dad's cell phone after getting the number from Sabrina's grandpa.)

And I don't know when I will next see her.

On the plus side, I didn't do her laundry over the weekend, nor did I buy milk or apple juice, so her not coming back to me means that I don't have to face the negative natural consequences of those failures to act.

Stress. Oh my G-d Stress.

2010-06-16T22:22:00.004-04:00

If only the phone call at 4:40 this afternoon asking us (my boss, me, and our coworker) to ignore our very logically set, long-standing Tuesday at noon deadline had been the end of the stress and not the beginning. See, the Tuesday at noon deadline is so that I have time to track things down and then our editor can get that half of our stuff ready before the other half have a noon at Wednesday deadline. Then our editor has to get everything together--individual files downloaded, page numbers added, PDFed, and then a table of contents manually made--by noon on Thursday.

So when we're asked at 4:40 on Wednesday to add another thing that we haven't seen, that I don't have all of the electronic papers I need to wrangle, etc., and my boss and I both have to leave to pick up kids and...I have a gynecologist appointment first thing tomorrow morning and my boss is leaving for vacation. So, um, do I have to cancel my appointment because someone else sat on a document and then "forgot" about the publication deadline?

Well, that all worked out, thankfully, though not without some unpleasant adrenaline.

I picked up Sabrina and all was well except that she wanted to do the following:
* make a card for her mommy
* go to a warehouse store to buy snacks for her class
* make gift bags for the snacks
* pack the gift bags

Um.

Yeah, so we got home from the warehouse store and it was already 8 pm. We hadn't had dinner. It's summer so Sabrina needed a bath. So, well, nothing else got done.

Then there was a fly in Sabrina's room. Because the ants in the kitchen aren't sufficient to drive me batty. It turns out that Sabrina is TERRIFIED of flies. A few hugs and trying to reassure her that flies only annoy us but don't hurt us later, I successfully swatted it. I didn't think it was possible. But I killed the fly. There's another one that is in her bathroom and I closed the door and told her I'd kill it, but I think I'm just going to let it be.

So now I'm thinking that I just need to manage to wake myself up early enough that I can wake her up a little early so we can at least make the card for her mom, and we'll do the gift bags tomorrow night when she gets home from her visit with her mom.

And then I checked my mail. In between my DVDs, there it was. A business card. "Investigative Social Worker." Because I need that stress.

Overdue

2010-06-15T15:10:00.002-04:00

Not our library books. They are due tomorrow and sitting on the floor in my office waiting for me to walk them to the main branch. I keep holding out hope that I will get an email saying that one of the books I have on hold is available. Apparently, if a book is reviewed in the New Yorker, that really makes it soar in popularity. At least, that's my explanation for being 8th on the hold list for one of the two books I have on hold.

No, I just mean I'm long overdue for a post!

This morning was the awards ceremony for the preschool through 1st grades at Sabrina's school. I thought it was tomorrow so I almost missed it! My observations:

oh my G-d there was a lot of cuteness in that room.
an hour is really too long for kids that age to sit and clap for other kids. Eight classes. After the second, the kids got really restless.
At least starting in kindergarten, not every kid got an award.
But kindergarten is really too young for not every kid to get an award.
What in the world does "honor roll" mean when applied to preschool? (Or pre-K? Or, well, any of those grades?)
Nevertheless, I am very proud that Sabrina got an honor roll award. Since we've stopped doing homework, I was nervous that she wasn't going to get honor roll and it would be my fault.
Sabrina's aunt came. Yay!
I didn't learn "shake with the right, take with the left" until I was in 12th grade. Those pre-schoolers were SO FREAKING ADORABLE trying to get it down.
The assistant principal of Sabrina's school is H-O-T HOT. Just sayin'.
None of the parents who got the "outstanding volunteer" award were there. Irony much?

So here we are a week away from the end of the school year, and Sabrina's teacher still says her name wrong. It's as if she called her "Stabrina." That is, she adds an extra consonant (not actually a T) between the first and second letters of her name. Grr.

***

Yesterday I picked up Sabrina at school and the first thing she told me about was the cantaloupe she had with her grandma over the weekend. I wish I'd had a video camera to record her describing the cantaloupe. So of course we made a detour on the way home to buy a cantaloupe. (Um, we had to stop at the store to buy milk anyway. My fault. I went to Costco on Sunday for our fruits and veggies and such, and I certainly was not going to buy milk there.)

We walked into the store and the first thing Sabrina saw were blueberries. How can you say no to a four year old who insists that we NEED blueberries? I tried, actually. I bought strawberries at Costco and we were about to buy a melon, and there ARE only two of us. But really, it's fruit. Then it turned out that they didn't have cantaloupes! So sad, but we got a mini watermelon instead.

As we were getting in line, we passed the "impulse-purchase-some-pie!" display. Sabrina asked--not if we could buy a pie--but "can we make a pie?" SO CUTE!

***

Sabrina's dad got a job, hooray! Last Monday he had to report at 6 am (ugh) so he asked if he could bring Sabrina back on Sunday night instead of needing to find someone to take her to school. So I gave him my address and he came by with her, and then... yesterday I got a call from him. He is installing satellite dishes literally across the street from my building. We never would have known if he hadn't had to bring Sabrina back to me last week. Crazy.

***

According to Sabrina's GAL, my post about ICPC was wrong and my city wouldn't remain on the hook financially for Sabrina if dad got custody. The GAL has another kid on her caseload in exactly the same situation. Same county. A birth dad. Money questions. TWO YEARS LATER,. that kid is still not with her dad... Hopefully the fact that Sabrina's dad now has a job will change the situation.

Nevertheless, there is something seriously wrong with kids remaining in care because a parent--not just a family member, but a PARENT--doesn't have a job.

***

Okay, back to work. More cute stories later, I hope!

ICPC and Sabrina's Dad

2010-05-26T14:05:00.004-04:00

I'm having one of those days at work where I know I have a lot to do, but am not really sure what it is. Brilliant.

So once I finally read through the remaining items from the New Yorker that were lurking in my Google Reader and then had nothing to do to procrastinate, I decided to do some research on the ICPC. ICPC stands for Interstate Compact on the Placement of Children, and its purpose is to protect the safety of kids who are sent/brought from one state to another for foster care or adoption. There are elements of it that are supposed to ease some of the bureaucracy (like maximum time for the receiving state to do a home study and such) and guarantee that the sending state remains financially responsible for the kiddo.

Sabrina's dad lives in another state (though nearby, relatively speaking, as you must have figured out since she spends every weekend with him) so ICPC applies to him getting custody.

"But wait," I hear you saying. "He's dad. It's not foster care. It's not adoption. Why does ICPC apply?"

I have been curious about this too for the last six months, and especially since last week when Wilma, the no-longer-so-terrible social worker told me that things aren't going well on the ICPC front. Apparently dad's county is concerned about dad's financial situation and doesn't want to have to pay for Sabrina. More on that detail later, but this is why today I decided I needed to do some research into the law.

Article III of the ICPC itself states (my emphasis):

(a) No sending agency shall send, bring, or cause to be sent or brought into any
other party state any child for placement in foster care or as a preliminary to
a possible adoption unless the sending agency shall comply with each and every
requirement set forth in this article and with the applicable laws of the
receiving state governing the placement of children therein.

So yeah, it doesn't look like it should apply. And if it doesn't apply, then Sabrina should be with her dad and her dad's county can complain all they want about being on the hook financially if things go south with dad's financial situation because they don't have the ICPC protection of my state retaining jurisdiction.

But there are regulations. And they say, in Regulation 3 (again, my emphasis):

1. "Placement" as defined in Article II (d) includes the arrangement for the
care of a child in the home of his parent, other relative, or non-agency
guardian in a receiving state when the sending agency is any entity other than a
parent, relative, guardian or non-agency guardian making the arrangement for
care as a plan exempt under Article VIII (a) of the Compact.

So there you have it, the ICPC applies.

But it doesn't have to (Regulation 3, 6(b)):

(b) The Compact does not apply whenever a court transfers the child to a
non-custodial parent with respect to whom the court does not have evidence
before it that such parent is unfit, does not seek such evidence, and does not
retain jurisdiction over the child after the court transfers the child.

The judge in the case opted out of such a transfer though, so the ICPC applies.

And here's the key thing (Article V of the Compact itself, emphasis mine):

(a) The sending agency shall retain jurisdiction over the child sufficient to
determine all matters in relation to the custody, supervision, care, and
disposition of the child which it would have had if the child had remained in
the sending agency’s state, until the child is adopted, reaches majority,
becomes self-supporting or is discharged with the concurrence of the appropriate
authority in the receiving state. Such jurisdiction shall also include the power
to effect or cause the return of the child or its transfer to another location
and custody pursuant to law. The sending agency shall continue to have financial responsibility for support and maintenance of the child during the period of the placement. Nothing contained herein shall defeat a claim of jurisdiction by a receiving state sufficient to deal with an act of delinquency or crime committed therein.

So dad's county? Doesn't get to use dad's finances as a cover for not approving him as a placement.

And thus ends today's treatise on why Sabrina should be with her dad, and not with me.

Swirly in my tummy

2010-05-25T13:32:00.003-04:00

I did something hugely responsible this morning: I made an appointment with my therapist. I haven't seen her in about a year. I'm not good at therapy.

Back when I was still unemployed, I was this close to making an appointment and then started volunteering and didn't get around to it, and then I got my job, and I didn't feel like I needed to see her and definitely didn't have time to because hello, I'm working.

But a few weeks ago I started thinking about how tiring it is when Sabrina bites me, and how I just don't know if I'm doing the right things for her, and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to have a neutral party listen to me, but still I didn't make an appointment.

And then came the end of last week and the beginning of this week and the end of season 5 of Grey's Anatomy. (Note: this is LAST year. Not this year. Not the season that just ended. Don't say anything about this season because I will find your anonymous self and come kick your butt.)

Let me digress a moment. When I was in my early teens or so, a local tv station showed old reruns of M*A*S*H. Have you seen M*A*S*H? What a great show. Remember the last episode with Henry Blake? He gets to go home and then his chopper or plane goes down, and they did this awesome thing in filming where no one in the cast knew that they were killing him off, and Radar opens the envelope to deliver the news, not knowing that's what was in the envelope?

I was a wreck for a week.

Remember on ER when Mark Greene gets brain cancer? And then he gets better but then it comes back and then he dies? A wreck. For I don't remember how long.

Remember on West Wing when Josh gets shot? He recovers but I still just bawl and bawl every time I watch the beginning of the second season.

Dead Poets Society, when the boy kills himself? (Sorry, I only owned that one on videotape, so haven't watched it in EONS and don't remember the character's name.)

Top Gun when the plane goes down? (Hm, just noticed that's Anthony Edwards again.)

Long digression. To say this: I suck myself in to dramas with death and dying, and then can't pull myself out of them. Those episodes and those movies are the ones that I will put in the DVD player and watch over and over and over and over again.

So at the end of last week I was watching last season of Grey's Anatomy and Izzie starts--well, I don't want to give away anything to anyone else like me who is a full season behind on all tv due to only watching it on DVD--having those situations, the ones that clearly aren't good but I for one thought they were something entirely different than they turned out to be.

And then Saturday night came around and I watched, transfixed, as Izzie's situation became clearer and my heart beat faster and I love Izzie and all of the characters so much and I watched three episodes? Five episodes? Something unhealthy and then I couldn't sleep because I just felt so swirly inside and I knew that if I were in a situation like Izzie, I wouldn't be able to tell anyone either, and I would hope that I would have someone in my life like Cristina who figured out what Izzie really needed right before her solo surgery and, oh how stricken Alex and Bailey looked, and I love their relationships and what is going to happen and I wish I had relationships like theirs (though, taking a deep breath, I don't actually think it would be a good idea to have one's only friends be the people one works with). And I couldn't sleep and got only about four hours, tops.

And I went shopping on Sunday but my mind kept wandering back to Izzie, and to Owen and Cristina and Derek and Meredith, and I just wanted to be home watching more Grey's Anatomy! Which is totally unlike me when I am at the outlet mall! but there you have it. When I finally got home I forced myself to do some productive things before I turned on the tv, because I knew I wasn't getting up once I sat on the sofa. I rewatched three episodes before putting in the last DVD of the season and then watched three of the last four episodes and on Monday I was a wreck. What George was planning to do. Izzie. The perfect wedding. Friendships. Izzie. I couldn't concentrate at work and my tummy was all swirly and I know that tv relationships are idealized and not realistic but I will never have friendships like the ones on tv and oh what is going to happen with Izzie.

And Sabrina woke up right in the middle of my watching the last episode and I was already tear-y and when Sabrina was crying and wouldn't let me comfort her I started crying, right there in her room, because I was such an emotional disaster from watching tv and because I felt like, "here is this relationship that I am supposed to be giving myself over to and I'm a failure because I can't empathize with Sabrina and just want to comfort her so that I will feel better," and...

...ugh I am the most self-centered, self-absorbed person I know even though everyone thinks I'm this totally selfless person who is so amazing for being a foster parent but even though I (say I) want to have better relationships and be really intensely close with people, things people say to me go in one ear and out the other and I don't remember important things about even the people I want to be friends with and I'll have conversations with people where I just talk and talk and talk about myself and then I'll need to leave or we'll be walking together and get to where our routes diverge and I'll realize that I barely even asked the other person how he or she is.

And even though I pretty much know what happens with the two big cliffhanger scenes at the end of last season of Grey's Anatomy, my mind keeps mulling it over as if tv were some serious, world-changing issue, and my tummy is all swirly with all of these thoughts, so I realized I should see my therapist.

Or maybe my tummy is all swirly today because of the caffeine in my coffee this morning.

Interracial parenting FAIL

2010-05-25T12:11:00.002-04:00

I promised this post, so here it is. Me confessing to the entire world that I totally blew it.

Sabrina and I were out last Tuesday when she said, out of the blue (because everything a four year old says is out of the blue!), "we are different colors." Great opportunity to have a really good conversation, right?

Well, not if you blow it completely.

It started out okay. "Why are we different colors?" "Well, a long long long time ago, our grandparents' grandparents' grandparents' lived in different parts of the world. And people in some parts of the world have darker skin to protect them from the sun." Yes, I did try to explain evolutionary biology to a four year old.

Then things went terribly, horribly wrong.

"I wish I had lighter skin, Foster Ima."

After I talked myself out of telling her about the study I read about showing that kids of all skin tones are biased towards lighter skin (yeah, a little beyond a four year old's comprehension, and not what she was looking for), I said ... wait for it ... oh you will be shocked at my incredible stupidity ...

"but your skin is part of who you are!"

[Immediate realization of what I said] "I mean, um, what you are INSIDE is makes you who you are. And you are smart and funny and have good manners."

Oops. And now I will go hide under a rock so I never say anything so stupid again.

Interracial parenting fail

2010-05-20T23:59:00.001-04:00

It's midnight and my alarm is set for 5 (gotta give myself some time to hit snooze, you see), so I can't actually blog about my fail from Tuesday. Someone please remind me that I want to do so!

Don't look in my bookbag

2010-05-20T23:51:00.002-04:00

Well of course if Sabrina is insistent that I not look in her bookbag, the first thing I am going to do after she goes to sleep is to look! She insisted that I not look before she took my phone for the second time in two days, so the question is:

Did she not want me to see the doll that she got from her mom at her visit today, or did she not want me to see that the money in her bookbag was gone?

Sabrina had a school field trip to the circus yesterday. All the kids in the early childhood grades needed to have their very own adult with them, and I couldn't go because it was Shavuot, so Sabrina's dad went with her. I paid for both of them, and the information sheet suggested $7-$10 pocket money for snacks. So I put $10 in an envelope in her bookbag before the holiday started and told her it was there and what it was for. I told her that she could have anything that her dad said was okay.

All she had was cotton candy (yum! jealous!) and I know that the change was still in the envelope last night because after some soul-searching, I decided that I would rescue my phone from her bookbag (yes, this makes twice in two days) despite the holiday just so that I wouldn't forget to ask her to give it back, and in the process, could tell that there was money in the envelope.

Today I contemplated how I could give Sabrina positive feedback about not just spending all of the money that I gave her.

Then when I looked in her bookbag tonight, the envelope was empty.

Shavuot, and how this is All. My. Fault.

2010-05-18T13:13:00.002-04:00

Sabrina and I are home sick today. She's sick, not me. She threw up in the toilet (hooray! for the toilet part, not the throwing up part), on the rug, and then, my favorite, on the dining room table. Nothing seems to be worse for the wear, except for the poor sweetie, and the plastic covering the dining room table actually seems to be cleaner than it was before.

This is all my fault, you see.

Yesterday Sabrina didn't feel well when I picked her up at school, and she had a little bit of a fever. She rested and played a bit while the GAL was over for a visit, and then she went to bed.

Meanwhile, I was VERY STRESSED about the upcoming Jewish holiday of Shavuot, which starts tonight. I finally got all of the logistics worked out (read: I found someone who can take her to and from school on the two days of the holiday, having already found an adult--her dad--to go with her on the school field trip to the circus) but still had much cooking to do. And I started thinking--if Sabrina has to stay home because she's sick, that would be very beneficial to me.

I didn't think that was going to make her not be able to keep anything down! Really! I thought, a little extra rest, some TV, and she'd feel better. Alas, I made her sick.

However, I did make two cheesecakes, a quiche, and fish, washed all my dishes except the few for the fish, put my laundry away, and have done some work (Tuesday being my busy day), so while this was bad for Sabrina, it hasn't been all bad for me. I'm all about the self-centeredness.

Paucity of posts

2010-05-17T12:28:00.002-04:00

A few weeks ago Sabrina dumped a small amount of water on my favored computer. (In fairness, we've never discussed "don't pour water on the computer." And it had definite natural consequences for her; she likes to watch books from the public library site on that computer, and they don't work on the other computer. She's had to learn that even though it was "an accident"--not really, but neverthess...--the computer doesn't know the difference.)

The computer actually still works fine, except that the trackpad is 99.8% dead. I am so grateful to my friend "hazelmoon" who pointed out to me, quite obviously and quite brilliantly, that all I needed was to buy an external mouse. Duh.

But until she realized that I am a complete dolt when it comes to realizing obvious things, I was struggling along with my old computer, on which it is difficult to have two browsers running at the same time, making it correspondingly difficult to have two google/blogger accounts open at the same time, making it therefore difficult to just open the computer and blog.

Did you care about all this? Probably not. But I've been at work since 7:30 this morning doing completely mindless tasks, and I just needed to type something. (The project I am doing literally requires almost no typing, only clicking. Bo.ring.)

Am I wrong?

2010-05-12T21:32:00.002-04:00

I need some feedback please. Sabrina's school has a field trip planned for the early childhood kids (preschool through K, I think) to a young-kid-friendly amusement park that, for the sake of anonymity, I will just say is significantly more than 2 hours from her school. I am not planning for her to go. I think that it is too far away, it has no educational value, I would have to go (meaning I would have to take a day off from work when I have a grand total of one vacation day accrued), and there would be a huge risk of Sabrina not following directions in a very large, unstructured environment.

Am I wrong? The permission slip is due tomorrow and now I'm having second thoughts.

Proud Jewish Mama Moment

2010-05-11T14:38:00.002-04:00

This morning, Sabrina told me that something looked "like a mezuzah."* Aww, so cute!

*A mezuzah is a small scroll of parchment with some (specific) text from the Bible written on it, that is affixed to each doorpost in one's house or business, with a few exceptions. It is generally housed in a pretty case.

One...

2010-05-10T06:02:00.002-04:00

One...

...hour awake

...load of laundry put away

...Dora tent fixed (after about 2 months!)

...dish drainer full of newly clean dishes

...shower curtain replaced

...lunch packed

...cookie eaten

Curse Curse Cursing Curses

2010-05-09T01:00:00.002-04:00

On Thursday I was reminded of a very important lesson: screaming curses at the top of my lungs in my car doesn't actually make me feel better.

The background: Sabrina's visit with her mom on Thursday was cancelled. Her social worker emailed me at 5 in the morning (really!) to let me know. I was moderately frustrated (we'd made a Mother's Day present, after all) but especially once I figured out that the visit was cancelled because the idiot social services aide was fired, I understood and didn't mind. (Apparently I haven't blogged about the idiot. She called Sabrina a liar in front of her after it took them an hour to find my apartment--with GPS--because "one way streets are confusing.")

Then what happened: Mom showed up at Sabrina's school. I did learn on Friday morning that this is how visits work--she meets the social worker and Sabrina at school and they ride together to the Agency for the visit--but still no one told mom that the visit had been cancelled. Mom called me to complain that no one was there, and "I just want to take her to my house and do her hair and watch a movie, and I'll meet you at school at 6."

Uh, what? No! "I really think you should call the social worker's supervisor. Here's her number:..."

I had barely hung up the phone when I called the supervisor (the social worker was on vacation) and left her a message ("oh my G-d Sabrina's mom is at school and I'm freaking out") followed by a call to the supervisor's supervisor, who actually was at his desk, but who was almost completely unhelpful. I say "almost" because he did then call mom and find out... but let's let that sit for a moment. The SWSSS (social worker's supervisor's stupid supervisor) was very apologetic about the situation. Yes. He was sorry for the inconvenience of the visit being cancelled.

He was not at all concerned, however, that, wait for it...

Mom had taken Sabrina from school and Sabrina was at that moment at mom's house, which the SWSSS found out by calling mom.

After a bit of cursing and getting directions to mom's house, I left the office to go pick her up. I got in my car and promptly got lost (prompting the first round of screaming curses at the top of my lungs in my car), followed by ending up on the wrong side of the river that divides my city, right next to a sporting venue hosting a game that evening, prompting the second round of screaming curses at the top of my lungs.

Finally, finally, I got to mom's house where she was just putting the finishing touches on re-doing Sabrina's hair, which had just been done by a professional the night before.

So we're left with 1. why didn't anyone tell mom the visit was cancelled? 2. why wasn't the agency concerned that mom, who isn't supposed to have unsupervised visits, took Sabrina home with her, and 3. how did the school let Sabrina's mom take her???

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

2010-05-04T16:27:00.002-04:00

I need a do-over of the entire week to this point. At the moment, this is because I'm SO UNBELIEVABLY STRESSED and running on nothing but adrenaline. I'm at my desk and I have eighteen gazillion things to do, but none have a deadline of 5 pm today, so I'm taking a moment or ten to blog. Please forgive that this will be little snippets that don't fit together in a coherent whole.

***
Last night was one of the worst nights Sabrina and I have had in quite some time. I truly thought that my face was going to be black and blue this morning. When she starts with the smacking/hair pulling/biting, I don't think she actually knows what she is doing. (I am reluctant to say that too affirmatively, because I don't think that it's an actual dissociative thing. But I don't think she has any control over her ability to stop.) Anyway, last night I succeeded in getting us into a seated position with my arms around her and her legs between mine, and I breathed slowly and counted out loud, hoping to calm her down. I thought she was calmer and had loosened my hug a little when she squirmed out of my arms and started hurting me again. She actually climbed on my back so that I couldn't get away from her, and just smacked the cr@p out of my head. I stood up to carry her to her room, and she grabbed onto a door in the hallway so that I couldn't go further without her falling off my back. (Okay, that sounds pretty conscious of what she was doing!) (This was all after she was supposed to be in bed.)

This morning, unfortunately, was not good either. When she snatched (her word) my glasses and I thought she was going to break them, I did manage to find my old pair. Wow is the prescription different in one eye. Oh well.

***
But what WAS good this morning was that after over a half hour of walking around the apartment in JUST her pajama shirt (as in, no underwear or anything) and following through repeatedly on her threat to "don't tell me what to do or I'll smack you," I succeeded in getting Sabrina to school in her pajamas. I handed her the clean pair of underpants we had picked out to wear today, said "put these on," and she did. I then said "we're going to school, get your bookbag" and her diversion to put on her pajama pants was very quick and without any complaint. She picked up her bookbag, not a complaint. We walked to the outside door, I picked her up to carry her to the car, we drove to school, she put on socks (she thought she would be embarrassed if anyone saw her feet, so cute!), I carried her to her classroom, we went into the bathroom, and she put on her clothes. Of course, I would have been happier if she had gotten dressed at home.

***
Since we ultimately got to school early despite the clothing debacle, we sat down to do her homework after she was dressed. We haven't done her homework since I started working. She is supposed to do it in aftercare, and if she doesn't do it there, I'm not going to take our limited time to do worksheets. We'll do other educational things. But we did her homework this morning, and I was SO IMPRESSED with her! They were introduced to subtraction, and she totally got it. We did the first problem (4 take away 1 is ____) with me counting and then covering over one, and then she did the rest all by herself. Yay Sabrina!

***
It took 18 minutes for me to get from school to the parking garage at the subway station today. You might recall that school is literally ACROSS THE STREET from the subway station. Yeah, I wasn't a happy camper.

***
In the five months that Sabrina has been with me, I've never had to do her hair. This week, she came back from her dad's with a note "here are some bowrettes [sic]. Please do [Sabrina's] hair if you can." School picture day is on Thursday and Sabrina started undoing her braids last night, so I made us an appointment at a kids' salon for tomorrow. I don't feel 100% confident that this place will know what to do with her hair, but if I get a bad feeling once we're there, we'll just leave.

***
I got a smart phone yesterday, another adventure that I hope never to repeat. Seriously, over an hour at Radio Shack. I think it was a combination of RS employee stupidity AND cell carrier stupidity. They can share the blame equally. Anyway, my phone number still isn't working, and it was only supposed to take 24 hours (and the cell carrier person I spoke to yesterday while at RS said that it was "done porting" which I thought meant that it should work right away, but maybe not).

***
When I finally got to work this morning, I had three voice mails and about 20 emails. I realize that none of this is terribly bad, but I'm used to NO voice mails and about 3 emails.

***
I can't find my camera-to-computer cable. So I can't put my most recent (really cute) pictures on my computer.

Sabrina broke my netbook last week (not on purpose, but she did pour water on it on purpose); the computer works but the track pad doesn't.

And on top of all that, I need some of the pictures to make the Mother's Day present for Sabrina's mom that I wanted to make. But since I forgot to go to the craft store on Sunday, I don't have the materials we need anyway.

So you can see why I'm a little adrenaline-riddled. Deep breaths.

Where things are with Sabrina's family

2010-04-28T20:47:00.002-04:00

Yesterday was the administrative review meeting at The Agency for Sabrina. I was inappropriately anxious about getting there early and needing to talk with Sabrina's family members without agency people there. It turned out when I got there, I was the first person to arrive. Wilma showed up 20 minutes late. No one in the family came. The GAL didn't come. It was just me, Wilma, and the person doing the review.

I learned interesting things, like that the removal was based on a positive drug test when mom went to the ER one day (CPS was called, and they did an interview that led them to believe that mom shouldn't parent her, and then the decision was made to remove her). Mom is still using. However, Mom has apparently decided to wean herself off her drug of choice by switching to pot and alcohol. Mom had an assessment that recommended that she do an in-patient drug treatment program, but she refused so that she could take classes to become a massage therapist. But she doesn't go consistently to her out-patient program, either. (Can I just say that I hope any massage therapist I go to isn't high on PCP?)

The goal is reunification with mom, though with a sidetrack to dad having custody. Today was the disposition hearing, and while I didn't go, I did get a prompt report from Wilma. This was necessary because the judge could have ruled on dad's custody petition. In advance, Wilma didn't think he was going to, but just in case, I needed to know if I was going to be the one picking up Sabrina from school or not! The outcome of the hearing was that the judge is waiting on the outcome of the ICPC paperwork before ruling on the custody petition. Dad reported that the social worker from his state is going to his house on Friday. So fingers are crossed that this crazy 4 nights with me-3 nights with dad situation will end soon. I love Sabrina but this is just not good for her.

Why there has been less blogging from the Foster Ima household

2010-04-28T20:40:00.003-04:00

Did I mention that I started a new job? Four weeks ago. And this has wreaked havoc on our schedule.

6:30 wake up. (Aspirational.)
6:50 actually wake up.
7:45 leave for school. Note that this leaves less than an hour of actual time for getting ready for school.
8:15 arrive at school.
8:30 (at best) I leave school; I have no idea how it takes 15 minutes to get her with her class and leave.
8:45 I arrive at the parking lot to the subway station that is literally across the street from school. There are five traffic lights between school and the parking lot. Today I was stuck at one of them for three cycles of the light.
9:10 Arrive at work.
5:00 leave work.
5:40 at best, arrive at school. (Today it also took me three red light cycles to get out of the subway station parking lot.)
5:55 in car to go home.
6:30 arrive home.
Dinner, bath, get ready for bed.
7:30 (I wish) bedtime.

So you see, we have very little time together these days, since she spends weekends with dad. More on that, too...

Connections

2010-04-28T20:27:00.002-04:00

At the beginning, Sabrina made a big deal out of our different noses. I don't have the stereotypical "Jewish nose" but for whatever evolutionary reason, it is true that her nose is flatter than mine. Plus of course it is smaller than mine :-)

Just a few minutes ago, she pinched my nose (not meanly) and said "our noses are almost the same." Awww...

***
Last night I said "Good night, I love you" when I left her room. She responded "Good night, I don't love you!" Much better than her previous common responses of "don't say 'good night'!" and an angry "I don't love you."

***
I went on a shopping expedition a few weeks ago. Most of what I bought was purely for Sabrina. (A bike helmet, sunglasses, an umbrella.) I also bought one of those teeny tiny window garden kits. I told Sabrina that it was for both of us, and she totally got that it was "ours." It was the first thing that she accepted as being ours, instead of hers or mine. (And she is completely and totally excited by the tomato plants.)

Another exciting first was an umprompted "I like the things you bought me." She has been reluctant to like things that I get for her. (I understand why. But that makes it all the more exciting when she realizes it's okay to like things that I like, etc.)

***
She now wants me to sit on her bed right next to her as she falls asleep. This is a little frustrating as it limits what I can do while I wait for her to fall asleep (no blogging) but is very sweet to have her lying right next to me. At first I had to sit next to her bed. (Confession: at the moment I am sitting next to her bed while she falls asleep. We're having a rough night and she is exhausted but refusing to sleep.)

***
More to come.

Big day tomorrow

2010-04-26T21:25:00.002-04:00

Sabrina finally fell asleep about 20 minutes ago after about an hour of complaining of various ailments. I don't doubt that she felt bad, but she also spent a good two hours being very chipper despite reporting that her throat and stomach hurt. I am now completely stressed about the possibility that she is sick. If it were a normal day, there would be no problem keeping her home from school, resting, etc.

But tomorrow is an "administrative review" meeting at the agency. I need to be there. So what do I do if Sabrina is sick? Yikes.

So yes, tomorrow is a team meeting, the first I've been a part of. The disposition hearing is on Wednesday, and I have no idea what the chances are that the judge will rule on dad's custody petition. I'm trying to prepare myself for the possibility that Sabrina will go home from school on Wednesday with her dad, while at the same time not trying to let Sabrina in on the possibility. I don't want her to be caught completely by surprise, but I think that's better than getting her hopes up and then dashing them.

We'll see what happens...

Oh how I wish...

2010-04-26T21:22:00.002-04:00

...that I had a video camera. Of course, I know that if I had one, it would never be around when I need it. Like today. Sabrina was having trouble with her soap dispenser (I have NO EARTHLY IDEA why it works, then doesn't, then does) so I was fiddling with it trying to get soap out.

And I shot soap all the way across the bathroom.

Sabrina looked at me and said "Foster Ima!" in the most adorablest tone of voice EVER. Then she laughed. And I laughed. And she didn't complain that I was laughing.

Oh how I wish I could have gotten a video of the way she said my name.

Consequences, again

2010-04-22T07:16:00.003-04:00

My computer tells me that there is already a post entitled "Consequences." I haven't looked back to see what it is about or when I wrote it.

The other day Sabrina was eating an apple in the car on the way home from school. "Ima, what will you do if I throw this out the window?" "Well, I suppose I wouldn't let you eat in the car anymore. No more snacks on the way to or from school." "But what else?" I wonder what she thought I would do.

Bear Hunt

2010-04-21T21:13:00.003-04:00

I kept Sabrina up late tonight so I could go to a friend's bridal shower at our knitting store (I couldn't find a babysitter). I really thought that she would sleep in the car on the way home.

Instead, among other things, she sang/chanted/recited "We're going on a bear hunt." Very cute. And even cuter when she said: "Look over there, look over there, it's a candy factory..." Not in the version I know!

Milestones

2010-04-20T19:30:00.002-04:00

Sabrina was telling me a crazy story about a boy in her class and his teeth. After she told me that the school nurse took the friend's teeth out and then put them back in, she told me that his teeth were red, pink, green, and blue! Four year olds :-)

So I asked her "what would you do if YOUR teeth were red, pink, green, and blue?" Here's where the milestone comes in. She said "I would tell my mommy, or my daddy, or you." Really, she would tell me!

Second milestone: I made flounder for dinner. I breaded it and pan fried it, but didn't expect her to like it. Boy was I surprised when she ate everything I gave her, asked for more (the first time she asked for seconds!), and then said "thank you" after I gave her more. Then she asked for thirds. Amazing.

Holy Woah.

2010-04-16T18:18:00.002-04:00

A friend of mine sent me this:
http://blog.beliefnet.com/news/2010/04/muslim-woman-denied-foster-car.php

This is so not cool. Not cool at all.

In my training class, we had a conversation in which a vegetarian was criticized by our trainers for not being able to serve culturally relevant foods to her prospective child. (I supported her and said that my house is kosher, and that's just the way it is.) My psychiatrist implied that the fact that I wouldn't take future foster children to McDon@ld's was some big problem.

Maybe I was lucky to be licensed?

Defiance

2010-04-13T21:21:00.002-04:00

I hate using the word "defiant" to describe Sabrina's behavior, but some of it I do think is willful, and other bits I just can't figure out how to summarize for the title of a post.

I'm looking for some advice.

First, the therapist suggested that I very consistently give Sabrina a time out every time she hits, bites, or pulls my hair. We talked about it a little bit in the car today and she definitely had that "I'm embarrassed that I do this" tone of voice. Not that it helped when she started hitting me this evening!

Other friends of mine have said "of course no kid is willingly going to go to time out. I have to physically move my child to his time out chair." Well, I can't physically move Sabrina. One thing that I was thinking about doing is printing out a picture of a sad face and having one in each room; when she hits, she has to sit on the paper. I haven't done that yet, though, so do any of you brilliant and more experienced parents have any advice?

On a related note, this evening's hitting came after she was supposed to be in bed. She came out to the living room and I don't even remember why she started hitting me. If I had the sad face paper, should I have given her the time out in the living room, where she was, or made her go to her bedroom because it was an hour after her bedtime?

Also related, what should I do when she starts hitting or the like and we are late to school?

Done with the time out questions.

When Sabrina doesn't want to do what I'm asking her to do (put on her pajamas, or brush her teeth before putting on her pajamas, or wipe after using the toilet), she won't look at me. As in, I ask her to repeat what I asked her to do, she completely ignores me, I ask her to look at me and she keeps her head down or will actively turn her head away from me. Is this usual four year old behavior? Do you have any techniques for me to get her to listen to me? (I feel I should add that while some of this is a little bit "selfish" in the sense that I want her to get out of bed in the morning in less than 45 minutes because I want to get to work on time, but there are some real safety issues, too, like when we took the subway--at rush hour!--and she wouldn't hold my hand and wouldn't move away from the edge of the platform.)

Thanks for any advice you can share!

She's eating WHAT?!

2010-04-12T20:53:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I made eggplant lasagna for Sabrina and myself to eat for dinner tonight. Keep in mind that this is the girl who will not eat pizza or chicken or peanut butter. She will eat: strawberry yogurt, string cheese, turkey slices, and apples.

But it was worth a shot, right? She ate it up. Happily. Here's the recipe:

Slice two small eggplants lengthwise (for some reason the grocery store had only teeny tiny eggplants). Salt them and let them sit a while too ooze the bitterness out.
Then saute the eggplant slices in olive oil.
When the eggplant is cooked, do the following:
In a loaf pan, spread a layer of pasta sauce.
Follow that with a layer of eggplant.
Spread ricotta cheese on the eggplant.
Cover with grated mozzarella.
Spoon sauce over the cheese.
Eggplant.
Ricotta.
Mozzarella.
Sauce.
Eggplant.
Sauce.
Mozzarella.
Bake at 425 or so for a long time until it's cooked.

Serve to your incredibly picky 4 and a half year old foster daughter and sit back in amazement as she eats it.

A case of the Mondays

2010-04-12T20:47:00.002-04:00

Sabrina and I were together today (pre-falling asleep) for a grand total of 2 hours. We drove home, had dinner (more on that to come), took a walk, ate some more, and then got ready for bed, and all of it was just a little tinged with the Mondays. "Hold my wrist, not my hand." "I'm not talking to you." "Be quiet." "When I say 'be quiet,' you be quiet." But it was okay. I could tell it was just the Mondays talking. She enjoyed her dinner. We got about a half block into our walk and she just started holding my hand. She still didn't want me talking to her so much. And then things fell apart when it was time for bed. So we didn't take the bath we were planning to take, and she didn't brush her teeth (yikes!), and I got a bit yelled at. But tomorrow is another day. And it isn't a Monday.

Little One's Lexicon

2010-04-08T20:10:00.002-04:00

Things I need to learn to say/not say:

Okay: All right. Not okay: Okay.
Okay: What do you want? Not okay: What's up? (In response to her calling me.)
Okay: Yes. Not okay: Yep.

To be continued...

Relief

2010-04-07T21:34:00.002-04:00

I have a friend who is a pediatrician. She assures me that the itching private parts are most likely due to poor hygiene and probably no one is abusing my sweetheart. Phew.

In my effort to forestall future moments of dehydration, I am trying a spearmint. (That is infantile-Foster-Ima for "experiment.") Snack size zipper bag, filled with water, three drops of food coloring, stick in the freezer. Snip off a tiny corner and voila, a cool-looking but flavor (and sugar) free ice pop. (Voila, stain in a bag. Hm, hadn't thought about that...)

More butt kicking

2010-04-07T19:39:00.001-04:00

Her vagina itches. Fabulous. Eczema? Maybe. Probably. I think so. I hope so. I hope nothing worse.

Fate, kicking me in the rear end.

2010-04-07T18:53:00.002-04:00

[Note: I'm not really sure it's fate doing the kicking. But my brain isn't on 100% at the moment. And my rear end really is getting kicked.]

Let's just start with the minor stuff, shall we?

First, there was that huge lack of sleep thing last night.

Second, perhaps because of the lack of sleep, this morning we had a Sabrina complaining of an upset tummy (my diagnosis? she was tired). Then my brain was befuddled and even though the time 8:15 was sticking in my head, it was sticking in my head as the time we needed to leave, not the time we needed to be at school. So we left 15 minutes late when I realized I was being stupid.

Third, after I dropped Sabrina off at school, I was on auto-pilot and turned the wrong way on the busy road nearest her school. So I had to drive around a few blocks in a not-great neighborhood that I'm not familiar with.

Then (fourth) I got thoroughly and hopelessly lost trying to find the parking garage at the subway station by Sabrina's school. It took a half hour to find. (I should add that the subway station is literally across the street from her school. But the school is on a cul de sac that has a cut-through to the street with the subway station, but the cut-through is supposedly only for emergency vehicles.)

Work was fine. Really and truly fine. A bit stressful because I was trying to take a deadline seriously and the person who is training me wasn't there, and I didn't have access to the system that I needed. But fine.

Then I had to leave a little bit earlier than I planned because yet another person attempted (I haven't followed up on the outcome) suicide by subway and there were delays on the line I needed to take to get to Sabrina's school.

All was well for a few hours. Sabrina got registered in aftercare, I went to the grocery store, I went back and picked her up (she reported that they sat doing nothing for 2 hours, but I doubt it!), and she fell asleep in the car about 5 minutes from home.

And then.

Oh, and then.

She wouldn't wake up. Major freak out. I called 911, continued to freak out, but remarkably remained fairly calm. And about 30 seconds before the ambulance arrived, she opened her eyes. Her oxygen levels were fine, and she even got out of the car by herself, so I opted out of going to the hospital. (Oh please G-d let that have been a reasoned decision and not motivated by the milk and fish that were warming/thawing as this adventure was going on.)

My guess is that she is dehydrated, but I can't force feed her water or apple juice. She's (not quite) sleeping on the sofa and I have the air conditioning on full blast.

So much for taking a bath, and doing laundry (we have no clean underwear...well, I have clean underwear, but Sabrina doesn't). At least Sabrina is doing better.

Please, let day two of working parenthood be better than day one!

Day one of working parenthood

2010-04-07T07:15:00.002-04:00

Hello, stress.

Today I have to do the following (besides getting Sabrina to wear clean underpants):

find the parking lot at the subway station near Sabrina's school
work
enroll Sabrina in aftercare
go grocery shopping (we need bread, milk, moisturizing cream, and I'm not sure what I'm forgetting)
call Sabrina's doctor to ask about her allergies
do laundry
give Sabrina a bath
make a healthy dinner

Not all in that order. Plus we both slept like cr@p last night (I'm mostly blaming my poor sleep on her waking up 6 or 7 times; I really don't know why she had to wake me up at 4:30 when her earring came out).

Today we see how well the "no coke" resolution goes.

Clean underpants

2010-04-07T07:09:00.002-04:00

Sabrina is not wearing them.

I am currently being mean and not helping her to button her dress. I told her that I would help as soon as she puts on clean underpants. Since I'm not helping, I am mean. I am bossing her around.

I confess that it is my fault that she has only one clean pair of underpants. She wants to wear them on Friday. "Sabrina, you can wear them today AND Friday." "NO!!"

I personally feel that clean underpants aren't so much to ask, since I'm letting her wear a dirty undershirt and winter tights, and yesterday's underpants are kind of gross from some sliding down a concrete hill on her bottom, and I don't know if they were clean when she put them on (though I assume they were). However, she seems to disagree.

The part of this that is the funniest? They are day of the week underpants--for Wednesday.

Spring break

2010-04-03T23:50:00.003-04:00

If you are like me, you have about 27 hundred foster/adoption blogs in your google reader and don't actually notice when any one individual blogger takes a day or two or eleven off. (Um, hi! I love you all, even if I don't notice when you fall off the face of the earth because your child has attempted to flush you down the toilet!)

But in case you, you know, are a better person than I am, I thought I should poke my head up for a quick hello.

Sabrina is with her dad for spring break. She comes back Tuesday afternoon; I have a friend picking her up from school since it is the last day of Passover and I am therefore unable to drive, and let me tell you, as much as Sabrina thinks it would be fun to walk home from school, she wouldn't make it the multiple miles and by the way, highway? Not so friendly for pedestrians.

I've decided I need to have guests for lunch on Tuesday so that I don't accidentally nap through Sabrina getting home, but half of my first batch of invitees have declined already. People! I have food! I want to give it to you! Oh well, their loss.

In actual foster parenting related news, I got a big envelope from the agency last week with a single sheet of paper (and we wonder why the city is having budget problems) telling me to save the date for a "Summit!" But it didn't say what the date of said Summit! is. Brilliant. (Or, for that matter, what said Summit! is.)

At least it isn't asking me for money. On Friday I got an invitation to join the local foster parent association. The one that I only know about because of my previous professional involvement with my agency. According to the invitation letter, it is a "time of great change for foster care" in our city and "it will take everyday citizens like you and I to assist in the change." The letter doesn't say what the association does, but I am welcome to pay $35 for the privilege of joining. I should send cash to the executive director who just happens to share a last name with the president. Sure, let me just get out my wallet.

Explained.

2010-03-26T06:59:00.003-04:00

Me: What did you drink with dinner last night?

Sabrina: Soda.

Me: What type of soda?

Sabrina: Grown-up soda.

Me: What color was it? Was it yellow, or orange, or brown?

Sabrina: Brown.

Me, unspoken: Aha.

Routine shmoutine

2010-03-25T22:52:00.003-04:00

I haven't yet blogged about yesterday's play therapy appointment, and now seems like a good time. I met with the therapist for about 20 minutes before Sabrina met with her. Her big piece of advice was "You need to set a routine and stick to it." Yes, because when you stay at your dad's house from Friday night to Monday morning and then have to come back to your foster home for only four nights and four mornings a week, and one of those nights you have therapy and one of those nights you see your mom, it is really easy to set a routine.

We wrote down an afternoon/evening routine that didn't even make it out of the box yesterday due to a wild goose chase trying to find new school clothes. (Sabrina goes to her dad's house wearing her favorite school clothes and then comes back on Monday wearing clothes that she doesn't like. I'm not helping at all by agreeing that one of the dresses that she has come back wearing is hideous.)

And of course spring break starts tomorrow so Sabrina will be with her dad until a week from Tuesday. But I decided to give the routine another shot tonight.

I aimed for in pajamas by 7:30, stories, in bed by 7:45. We missed by about 20 minutes, but here's the key take-away--at 8:05, Sabrina was in bed.

Then she was "really really really really really really really really really really scared" (yes, she counted the "really"s on her fingers, so I know there were 10 of them) so I lay down in bed with her. She normally doesn't let me do that, so I relished the opportunity to be almost snuggling with her. Then this, that, and the other thing happened, and then it was 9.

I won't go into the rest of the boring details between 8 and 10:15, but at about 10:15 I was just about to lose it. Sabrina was just trying to engage me, so I explained to her that I had told her enough times that she needed to go to bed, so she knew it without me telling her. I said that instead of telling her that she needed to go to bed, I was just going to not talk to her until after she was asleep. I listened (in case anything really needed a response) but did not respond at all expect a few fingers pointing to her bedroom. About 15 minutes ago (11:00ish) she let me pick her up (!!) and carry her to her room. She has been there ever since.

I am filled with large amounts of doubt about whether this was the right thing to do. It was horribly guilt-inducing for me, and I can only hope that it wasn't damaging to her.

The adventure did produce some interesting Sabrina quotes. I didn't type (most of) them as she was saying them, so I'm missing a lot. But here are a few:

"I thought you was my friend!"
"If you're not going to talk ME, then I'm not going to talk to YOU."
"What did I do to you? I didn't do anything to you."
While bawling and one would, therefore, expect her to do not much more than call for Mommy and Daddy: "You hurt my feelings! You really hurt my feelings!"
"I want to make you laugh!"
"I need to tell you somethin'! Foster Ima, I need to tell you somethin'!* When's it gonna turn Friday?"

* It occurs to me that earlier in the evening (the event, actually, that provoked the bawling "you hurt my feelings") she called me to her room and said "I need to ask you something. When I go to my auntie's house, I'm going to give a piece of candy to my cousin and she's going to say thank you." I got annoyed because she said she was going to ask and then told. I wonder if she is confused about what is asking and what is telling.

More on the job front

2010-03-23T21:20:00.003-04:00

I got the official job offer this afternoon. I knew that it would be a pay cut. When I looked at the pay scale for the job's categorization, I thought it would be like a $9K pay cut. (Yes, that is still big.)

Instead it's a $15K pay cut. And the HR person isn't the one authorized to do salary negotiations. So tomorrow morning I am going to call the boss and see what I can do to make sure that I at least am not making less than I was making when I started working for the city.

Sigh.

Today's concerns

2010-03-23T21:17:00.002-04:00

1. I arrived at school to pick up Sabrina, and the class was watching Nickelodeon. (It does sound like they were just watching to keep them occupied and quiet during snack time, but still is not my happiest moment about her school.)

2. We went to the library after school, and the library security guard was hanging out on the for-catalog-use-only computer with YouTube and a few other programs open (I know this because I did sneak in to use the catalog) and was listening to music through headphones. Hello, are you paying attention to what was going on around you?

Easter

2010-03-22T20:22:00.002-04:00

This post is, nominally, about Easter. And my Very. Large. Gripes. about celebrating Easter in public school.

But I have bigger fish to fry at the moment.

Sabrina brought a note home today from her teacher. It was dated today. March 22. And it said, essentially, "We will be making Easter baskets on March 19. Please send your child to school with a basket and a bag of grass no later than Thursday, March 18. I will provide the goodies."

Small fish to fry: why do I have to go and buy plastic schlock when Sabrina is going to get an Easter basket from her family anyway?

Big fish to fry: get your dates right, teacher!

Now, off to find the part of the regulations that says this is totally against the rules. (Because you know, the Constitution is such an obscure document.)

Good news!

2010-03-22T20:13:00.002-04:00

I can't post about this yet on my non-anonymous blog because it isn't official (darn city human resources department), but I have a job! This is the job that I learned about back in August when I told the would-be boss that my job was being eliminated, and she immediately emailed her boss to ask if she could hire me. Yes, AUGUST. The vacancy was finally posted in November, I applied a week later, and was interviewed last Friday. The 12th, that is. They need me to start ASAP which could actually be on Monday. If HR ever calls me to actually offer me the job.

I will be replacing the only person who has ever held the job. He was in the office since its creation some 35 or 37 years ago.

And (here's the really fun part), I might hold the job for less than a month.

Crazy, huh? The possibility exists that I could get a promotion almost immediately. This is why they need me to start ASAP. One of the (very few) other people in the office just got a new job and is leaving. Imminently. So 1. they need me to start so that he can train me, and 2. his job is better than mine and better suited to my qualifications (it's actually an attorney job), so after he goes, they will want to slide me into his position.

But for now, am just waiting for my phone to ring...

Our new house?

2010-03-22T16:35:00.002-04:00

Background conversation on the way home from school:

Sabrina: Is we home yet?
Me: Does it look like we're home? (We were about halfway between school and home.)
Sabrina: Yes.
Me: Really?
Sabrina: Yes. (With her adorable grin.)
Me: We live under that bridge?

And then the real conversation that I wanted to blog about:

Sabrina: We could live in a tree house!
Me: What would we do if it was really windy?
Sabrina: We could close the windows!

(She continued to describe our new house, with three bedrooms, but our beds will go in the living room and the dining room table will go in my bedroom. All of my stuff and her stuff will go in her bedroom.)

She's got great problem solving skills, that Sabrina!

B collage, expanded

2010-03-22T09:28:00.002-04:00

Words that start with the letter B that I have found in pictures:
bottle
boot
bag
bread
bananas
blue
balloons
butterfly
Barack
brain
bed
boys
beef
blueberries
bowl
bird
bridge
boat
brussels sprouts
blackberries

Words that start with B that I have found but thought were too difficult for a 4 year old:
building
Bartenura Moscato (really! a kosher wine advertised in the NYT Magainze!)
bison
bacteria

Today's plans

2010-03-22T08:26:00.002-04:00

I was supposed to wake up with my alarm at around 6 this morning, enjoy a yogurt while catching up on blogs, then get ready for my day and go to my volunteer job early to get lots done before picking Sabrina up at school.

Since it's only 8:30 and I'm caught up on blogs and have eaten breakfast, I suppose I could technically go volunteer, get there early, get lots done, and pick Sabrina up.

But I got up around 7, caught up on blogs while standing next to my bed (have I mentioned here that my bed is 18 feet off the floor? it makes a great laptop stand), ate pizza (homemade) for breakfast, have watched an old episode of Mad About You, and emailed in sick.

Because I am either sick (oh please G-d no) or suffering my Big City's notorious allergies and either way, feel like doing nothing other than sitting on the couch knitting, or perhaps napping.

First, though, my educationally enriching plans for Sabrina this afternoon, which require prep work. She is learning the letter B in school. So I am going to look through magazines for pictures of things that start with the letter B and we are going to make collages.

Yay, scissors!

Big News

2010-03-18T21:44:00.002-04:00

Oh yeah, forgot about this in the I'm-still-so-worked-up-about-my-terrible-evening-with-Sabrina-that-I'm-not-blogging-about-it fog. Wilma (social worker) told me tonight that the reason that Sabrina sees her mom so much when she stays with her dad for the weekends is that Mom and Dad are SLEEPING TOGETHER. Now. Still. Thanks, family.

Song lyrics by way of a 4 year old

2010-03-18T21:05:00.003-04:00

Hokey Pokey:

You put your finger in, you put your finger out, you wiggle it all about. You catch the hoke and [mumble mumble]. You do the (shouted) Hokey Pokey!

It is then very important to add at the end "Don't smile!" when the grown up with you thinks you are unbelievably adorable and smiles.

Patty Cake:

Panna cake, panna cake [something something]
Bake it, and bake it, and mark it with a "S"
Open the oven for Sabrina and me.

Big sigh

2010-03-17T19:56:00.002-04:00

I am a grumpy old troll today. In fact, I'm surprised Sabrina hasn't called me a grumpy old troll. Mr. Crankypants stopped by for a visit this morning and had so much fun he decided to come back after school.

I'm not sure if Mr. Crankypants was visiting me or Sabrina.

I'm despairing of ever being a good blogger. Only because I am reading a great knitblogger from the beginning (I'm in June 2005) and she is hi-larious. I want to be her.

We read the shortest book that Sabrina owns (digression: she has a counting book that she got from the dentist that is shorter...but there aren't words in it to read) and That. Was. It. No complaints, wow-o, but she's not quite asleep, 20 minutes later, even though all signs pointed to one exhaustified Sabrina.

We had play therapy today. I was a little distraught to find that there was only one adult in the building, the therapist, so when she and I talked, Sabrina was by herself. It wasn't the most comfortable, child-friendly place (hello? play therapy office? can we have a comfortable sofa maybe?), and of course Sabrina doesn't like to be left alone.

And OH the traffic. It took us 45 minutes to get home. The office is 6 minutes from school, school is about 20 minutes from home, but OH rush hour.

I had a professor in college who told us, I swear to all that is holy, that she had worked as a telephone psychic. (This was not all that she told us. She told us about her cat peeing on her bed. And she asked me, in her office, to read and critique a love poem she had written for her boyfriend. It was not a poetry class.) I mention this because I am really falling down on the psychic job. I just can't figure out what "mmm mmm mmm mm mmm" means when she has her toothbrush in her mouth, what "THIS!" is when she is vaguely pointing all the way across the room, or what "mumble mumble like yours" is when she refuses to repeat "mumble mumble" because "you heard me!" Any psychic tips gladly welcomed.

Off to cleanse myself of the grumpies.

What's your vote?

2010-03-16T22:09:00.003-04:00

Hijacking my own blog (not like I've never done it before) to seek personal advice. Background: I'm doing a major cleaning job of my bedroom. (Major = $500 at IKEA, yikes! plus one severely injured finger...so far.) Of the many things that I don't know what to do with, here is one:

The shmancy folder that my undergraduate diploma came in. (Actually, the shmancy folder that I was handed when they called my name at the Arts & Sciences graduation event; I had to pick up my diploma later, and it was in a plastic bag.) My diploma is framed very nicely and is in my linen closet. So, do I throw the folder out? I never look at it except when I'm cleaning and the diploma is safely stored elsewhere, but it's also not your run of the mill manila folder either. So: toss it or keep it? What's your vote?