I Could NEVER Let Them Go!

I will venture to say that every single foster parent has heard something to the affect of, "I would never be able to give a baby back". I'd like to tip my hat to Mama Foster and this post about comments like that. She says it way better than I could.

Basically, we (Me, my husband, or foster parents in general) could NEVER let a baby that we love go either. We fall instantly in love with them. We get way too attached. Our hearts break with every injustice. But what are we to do? Not help a child who has no home because it will hurt us when they leave? Are we supposed to let these kids go people who can remain distant and not invest their whole selves into these babies? Obviously, No.

Here's the practical guide we follow when giving up our children:

Step 1- Ya put on your Big Girl Panties, because the judge just said "Immediately" and you have no say in the matter.

Step 2- Pack up 6 cans of formula, Gerber puffs, Baby apples, teething toys, blankets, bottles, and 4 binkies.
If you're not going to be with this kid, you best make sure they have what they need.

Step 3- Take in as much of that smile as humanly possible.
Don't you love the boogie nose?! Gross!

Step 4- You do a load of laundry
(or 3, 'cause Lord knows I'm always behind in the laundry race)

Step 5- Do one final keepsake and take LOTS of pictures

Step 6- When Baby is sleeping, and you have a few minutes to get everything together, cry as loud and ugly as humanly possible. Don't forget to back the Medicaid card and diaper rash cream!!

Step 7-  At this point there are no more tears. You go numb and take the longest drive ever.
You've already held your baby for the last time.

The handoff was what I expected. We pulled up next to Dad's car. Brandon carried the boxes and I opened the door to our van so Dad could pick up Baby 5. Dad thanked us for taking care of his son. He said it takes special people to do what we do. Baby got mad that he was woken up during the vehicle switch and he looked right at me and cried as Dad walked away with him. I was very upset by that little face that screamed how he needed his binkie and a few taps on the butt to feel better. When we got back into the van, Brandon said Dad had yelled from his car, "Keep in touch!", but I didn't hear it. Maybe I'll text him in a week to see how things are going, although it's not like he would tell me if everything was falling apart.

I'm a little bit of a wreck over the whole ordeal. I haven't changes the sheets on the crib yet, but I made Brandon take the bassinet he used to nap in out of the living room. We put away our infant carseat. My house doesn't smell like baby lotion and formula anymore. Saying Goodbye is hard, and I hate it.

I get way too attached to my kids. I would never be able to let them go! Except, I do. I manage to get through it. I feel every bit of pain. I grieve. I cry.

And I'll do it again because it's completely worth it.

It's been a terrible week

I've been trying to write about this week since Wednesday, but nothing I can say about it is coherent enough to post. Court, BioMoms, Victim Impact Statement, Custody petitions, Article 10 case, Article 6 case, Children's Motrin, Plea agreement - That's what I've written about.

I went to a criminal court proceeding for the first time on Wednesday. Most of the time the neglect/abuse allegations that caused kids to be placed in Foster Care are handled solely in Family court. Sometimes the act is so severe, that not just CPS, but the police get involved and press charges in Criminal court as well. I went to what was supposed to be the sentencing of a parent who did something so terrible that the law allows the judge to sentence 5-15 years as punishment. On top of that, there were 5 other charges that had nothing to do with hurting a child, but each of those held a possible 2-10yr sentence. "Justice" was served and this person admitted guilt to all 6 accusations and was given 8 years in jail for their actions. I was sick. The police investigator was mad. CPS was shocked they got any time at all (since most severe abuse cases only get probation). The perpetrator was completely unreadable- flat affect, no emotion. I hope and pray I never have to sit through something like that again, except I will have to- next week.

The sentencing did not become final last week because no one had been given the opportunity to write a Victim Impact Statement to the judge. Basically, that's a letter to the court explaining how the crime in question has effected the life of the victim after the initial trauma. In this particular case, I am the one who would be writing this letter. The assistant district attorney told me about it like 5 minutes before we walked into court, so I wasn't ready this week. They want to have it on file, though, because it effects future requests for early prison release and parole. So next week I will bring this letter to court and read it to the judge in front of the person who has plead guilty to an act that requires a particular kind of evil that is thankfully very rare. The thought of that gives me hives. These are the things you don't think about when you sign up for Foster Care. You think you are going to be soothing crying babies and dealing with a 6 yr old's temper tantrums- you never think you'll be facing the person who hurt a child and literally being that child's voice to a judge. It's an overwhelming responsibility.

While I was at criminal court, one of my kids had a visit. I keep a notebook in both my kids' visit bags and I write a little update every visit so the parents stay informed about what the child is up to, when appts are, etc. I get home from court, open the notebook, and read, "We have a problem". Oh good, because exactly what I need right now is a problem. The rest of the note explains that I need to have the child always travel with gas drops, Children's Motrin, and baby wipes. The child needed all these things at the (one hour) visit and I didn't provide them. The note said, "I know the state pays you to take care of ---- so you can buy these things". Yes, I can buy these things. As a matter of fact, I have all of these things in my home right now. I am not, however, sending medicine to a visit with a healthy child so you can dose him up without me knowing what he's taken. I called the caseworker, who is going to take care of responding to that note for me, and she agrees that no medicine should travel with the child to the visits unless necessary. Then I looked in the bag, because I always send wipes, and sure enough, there was a full travel case of wipes in the bag

Next on my agenda for the week of horror was to find out from Baby 5's caseworker what she expected from our family court appearance on Thursday. The way I heard it last time we were in court, Jan 26th was the day the judge planned to order Baby 5 home to his Dad. Since then, though, I had heard some concern about this from the law guardian. Also, the county never moved from day visits to overnight visits, even though that's usually what happens when a child is being sent home. The 3 kids we've had leave were having 3 day, 2 night visits with their parent before they were sent home. Baby 5 has never slept anywhere but here. He's only seen his Dad 8 times in his whole life- which is not Dad's fault, it's the county's. Dad came to every visit that was scheduled. Anyway, I called the caseworker and she said that she thought there would be an adjournment on Thursday and that we would go back to court one more time before Baby 5 would be moved. I said, "Should I have him packed?". She said No.

We went to court and there were 2 things to be settled- the CPS case and custody case. As expected, the custody hearing was adjourned until March. What was unexpected is the Judge said that Dad is the preferred placement over any other (us), and Baby should be placed with him, "Immediately" under the CPS case. "Immediately"- had I brought 5 to court that day, I would have literally handed him to Dad right there.

I heard it and started the internal mantra, Don't puke in court. Don't puke in court. I was just holding myself together when the county lawyer says to the judge, "Foster Mother is in the court right now." Ugh! really?! The judge asked me to stand and state my name for the record, which I did. She thanked me for my service and asked me if I was prepared to transition baby today.

My head was spinning- He's not packed, 4 is at school, Brandon's at work, you ordered him home immediately? They won't get to say goodbye! I managed a head nod and  "Yes", although it must have looked pained because Dad spoke up as I opened my mouth.

He said, "I don't want to just rip him away from her. We can wait a few days." There was some banter that I didn't quite listen to because I was figuring out if it was OK for me to sit back down or keep standing in case the judge speaks to me again. In the end it was decided 1) that I could sit down 2) that Baby would be physically returned to Dad on Saturday. I owe Dad for those 2 extra days.

As we left the courtroom, I smiled and said to Dad, "That was great. I'm so happy for you!". I really am happy for him, but sad for us. Then Mom came out. She was hysterical. She wanted Baby 5 to stay with us because that meant she had the chance to get him back. She yelled at the caseworker and collapsed in my arms. She sobbed while I held her and said the most comforting and helpful words I could think of. She apologized for not being able to keep 5 with us. I told her not to be sad for us. We are happy for the time we've had with 5. She walked me to my car and told me she wants us to get another baby. I think the exact phrasing was "Put in an order for a new baby". As ridiculous as the entire day was, it's oddly comforting to know that the woman who's baby was taken from her and placed with me thinks we're good enough to take care of him. I don't know that I'd ever be OK with another woman raising my baby.

So I went home and let everybody know what was going on. It was all very business-like. I called my homefinder. We talked about being open for new placements. I got the baby's laundry together. I used up all the WIC checks we had for this month so he would have formula until his Dad could get WIC transferred to his name. I refilled all Baby's prescriptions so Dad wouldn't have to worry about that until next month. I didn't cry once even though I knew this was a sad thing.

Then last night Baby 5 started fussing. He's had a runny nose for a while that never quite turned into a cold, but is still really annoying. He screams when we clean his nose, but a quick funny face and some peek a boo quickly remedies that. His other current favorite thing is the Oompa Loompa song from Willy Wonka- well, kind of. I don't know most of the words, so Baby 5 is accustomed to my unique rendition. When I got him to stop crying so quickly after blowing his nose, I lost it. I asked a huge favor from my 6 month old. I begged him to be happy at his new house. I held him and asked him to let them calm him down when he's upset. I asked him to be OK with whatever they do to get him to sleep. Please laugh when they play with you, and snuggle when they hold you. Please don't miss the way we do things here.

That's a tall order for a baby. I hate that he has to do any of that.

Baby 5 has been our shortest placement so far- 5 months and 1 week. I love him so much it hurts. I am going to be crushed today when we take him to the county line, put his stuff in his Dad's car and watch them drive away. This is not the kind of set up where there is any hope we'll stay in contact after he leaves. Dad has been very nice to us, but that's just not going to happen, and they live so far away that it's not like we'll bump into them at the grocery store or anything. Today is the last time I will ever hold my baby, and it's awful.

It's been a terrible week.

Growing Up, Growing Out

Baby 4 is developing and changing so fast, I can't even keep up! Last week he started Preschool and Dance!

Today I got an email from his caseworker. They had court today and I didn't go because I didn't particularly want to. There have been some annoying details going on with visits and caseworkers and relative resource that have been bothering me. There is this perception of foster parents that all we want in life is to keep people's kids away from them. That couldn't be further from the truth in Baby 4's case. I have tried very hard to get the county to educate 4's family about his needs so he can spend MORE time with them. Of course I would love to keep Baby 4. If he needs forever from me, I will happily give it. I would never sabotage a reunion because I love my boy.  I have told many people on many occasions that if relative resource seems like she's going to work out, then the training and transfer should happen sooner rather than later so 4 doesn't get more comfortable with us than necessary- but every time we go to court nothing happens and Baby 4 is left hanging in the wind for another 2-4 weeks.

So the caseworker went to court and shockingly nothing happened. Relative resource asked about her petition for custody that has been ignored since April and the county was instructed to get on it and figure out what they think of her. So they go back November and DHS needs to have proof that they have prepared her to care for him and that she either can or can't. If she can, he could be gone by Christmas.

Baby 4's made so much progress in the past 6 months and I'm so proud of him. I'm proud of all of us, really. I didn't know Brandon and I had what it takes to parent a kid like him. Whether he stays or goes, he's going to be better for the time he was here. That's why we do it all, to improve a child's life- even just a little.

It's unnatural to say goodbye to your child. In foster care we are asked to make strong attachments and yet let go easily. We are asked to plan and consider our kids as if they are permanent, yet realistically they aren't. It puts a little spin on every accomplishment and milestone. We're one step closer to losing our son with every dance class and bus ride. I shouldn't have to feel this way until Highschool graduation, but I may never get to see Kindergarten with 4.

As mopey as that sounds, it makes me appreciate our time together a little more. I want to experience everything I can with him. The concept of being separated makes playing "What's this dinosaur?" suddenly tolerable- maybe even enjoyable.

While 4 may be leaving my home, he has left a permanent mark on my heart. For that I am extremely grateful.

Seeing Kids After Reunification

Just 3 days after sending him home last week, Baby 3 turned 1yr old! It was hard not to see him that day, but I was trying to give Dad some room to get adjusted to having his boys home. Brandon and I went to the tattoo parlor to get Brandon's Baby 3 Batman piece done on his birthday, which was special.



All done (with a little editing for confidentiality)



Before the boys went home, Dad had agreed to let us host Baby 3's birthday party on March 6th. I was very nervous about seeing them after a whole week apart. When we picked them up, Dad handed Baby 3 to me and it was as natural as if they had been gone just an hour. When Baby 3 saw Brandon, he spit out his binkie and put his arms out for him. I was a little offended by the preference, but it made Brandon's day. Baby 2 came out next and walked to the car and got into his carseat like having his 2 families together was an everyday occurrence. It was awkward to make conversation with Dad and his girlfriend  and try to include her kids when all we wanted to do was snuggle our babies and explain why we left them.

At the party, it was difficult not to correct and direct the parenting flaws I saw. My family was alarmed by how the baby was being held and the aggression we saw in our usually mild mannered Baby 2. It was hard to be happy for the reunified family when I could clearly see that my kids' new life was chaotic and largely unsupervised.

Brandon keeping Baby 3 out of the cake

I am stuck in a conundrum where I want to be supportive and happy so I can stay connected to the boys and build relationship with biofamily, but I also want to spare myself some heartache and not be around people who treat my children as less than royalty. I chose to separate just a bit by asking Dad if we could see the boys on Wed, but I told him we would bring them to our house for dinner instead of sharing that time with the whole biofamily.

While I am still pretty emotional about our first post-reunification visit, I feel very blessed that we have a bioparent who is willing to keep  us around. In the end I will accept feeling angry or awkward if it means I can see the boys who own my heart. I never had a visit with Baby 1 after he went home. I do think that helped me heal, but my personal opinion is that I rather heal slowly and see my kids than to never know what they look like or where they are- even if that means keeping my mouth shut if I don't like how they are dressed when I see them.

Attention Friends and Family: We've signed you up for heartbreak!!

One of the issues I've been dealing with during this time of transition is trying to care for the emotions of our family members and close friends. I am seeing how our decision to become foster parents is effecting the people who love us. A strong support system is vital to staying healthy as foster parents. Being in that support system comes with it's own joy and grief

I remember when we started to tell our family that we were becoming foster parents. We had already filled out the application and had a date for the first interview in our home with a caseworker. I told my best friend first because I knew she'd give me an honest response without being hurtful. I honestly don't remember what she said, but I remember that she made me feel like I had an ally no matter what path I chose in life. She's been a God-send to me through these past 2yrs as an open ear and the best Auntie.

Grandma and Baby 2 sitting at the same table where I told her about our plans the year before

The next task was my Mom. I took her out to paint pottery and started talking about my new job and our interest in foster care. I told her about the info meeting and said that in less than a year, we planned on becoming certified for foster care. Neither of us really knew what we were going into together. My Mom was talking about how it was so great to help children, and how she supported our decision to volunteer. I did know at that point that foster care was more than a volunteer position serving hot meals in a homeless shelter, bur neither of us knew foster care would change the family forever and become the legacy that I invest my life into. My Mom has been fully invested in every one of our kids- even the respites. They all call her Grandma and she loves them- probably more than she loves me. My Mom insisted on coming with me when Baby 1 went home for good. She held up alright in front of Dad, but she sobbed the whole way home- rambling about the system and some government conspiracies. She's welcomed all 3 of my sons home, and she has grieved all of them leaving. She told my Dad that she didn't know how much more loss I can handle. I can't help but wonder if that's code for how much more loss can she handle? She had no choice to become a foster family, but every time we transition she has to come along.

Brandon's sister and brother in law including Baby 3 in their wedding pictures

Brandon's family has been a bit more hands off than my over-involved parents. They are cordial with our sons, but treat them like cute kids we babysit. I can't blame any of them since we never asked their permission to change the family's dynamics in a non-traditional way. The exceptions to this are his sister and niece. They have opened their hearts and we greatly appreciate that. Brandon's sister even included baby 3 in her wedding photos. Now that he's home, she is left with a reminder of love lost every time she looks at her wedding album.

Baby 2 with Papa opening an early Christmas present because my Dad couldn't wait til the 25th

The process is different for friends and family than it is for foster parents. Foster parents have caseworkers to answer questions and provide support. Foster parents also have access to all the details of the child's case and history. We share what we can with our loved ones, but most info is confidential. So while we have some insight about why a child is staying or leaving, our family doesn't get it. Foster parents also build relationships with biofamilies. We know where our children are going when they leave, and we can build our opinion about the move around what we know of the situation. Our family only has only blind faith that the kids will be OK.

Uncle Bill never had grandchildren, but loves our boys

Even though I carry that guilt about causing our families grief when saying goodbye, I know that they experience the anticipation and excitement when we welcome a new child into our home. They also get credit for our children's security and and happiness as they settle into the family. It is an INCREDIBLE blessing to have your life touched by these kids, and I am proud that I provide that opportunity to the people we love.

I guess if I could do it all over, I would spend some more time talking through the actual process of foster care with our family before we got certified. I would apologize in advanced for bringing them on this rollercoaster experience. Now that the decision has already been made and they have already had loss, I just make sure I acknowledge their feelings and check in with them frequently. I realize I can't expect them to pick me up off the floor every time a child leaves because they have to care for their own hurt, but hurting together after helping a child is still better than hurting alone.

I have gone far and wide looking for resources to educate and support friends and family of foster parents. There are none. The closest helpful book I've found is In On It - by: Elizabeth O'Toole. The subtitle is "What adoptive parents would like you to know about adoption".  Highly reccomended.

Saying Goodbye

I woke up this morning and felt like I was going to throw up. Before my mind even became aware that today was the day I give away my sons, my body reacted. Blech!

Sunday mornings are all about church in our family, and for the past few months Babies 2&3 have been visiting their Dad on Sunday morning, so we get up and go to church without trying to get kids ready as well. Today, Brandon had to be at church to volunteer at 7:30 and I had to get Respite 4 ready for a visit with her bioDad at 8 and get Babies 2, 3, and myself ready to be at church at 9. I was so close to making up an excuse to skip it today, why would I want my boys in a nursery for and hour and a half on my last day with them? However, I'm way too responsible for that. Rush. Rush, Rush and we were late!

After church, I brought the boys home while Brandon stopped at the grocery store for some stuff I forgot yesterday. My Mom was already here, and wanted to hold and hug the boys. She helped me clean up the house and prep the going away dinner.

At 3:00pm, my Dad, Brandon's sister, brother in law, and brother came over and we ate chicken and scalloped potatoes and talked about how much we are going to miss babies 2 & 3. My Mom cried at least a dozen times, but I held myself together except for when I prayed for their safety before dinner.

At 5:30, We packed up the van with the last box of the boy's clothes and diapers, hugged and kissed our babies, and buckled them into their carseats, and started driving. The ride to Dad's house, now our boy's house, was quiet. Do we make small talk? Do we talk to the boys about reunion? Do we talk about our feelings? Baby 2 was happily playing with his HUGE fire truck that Papa gave him before dinner, and Baby 3 was sleeping, so we drove and said nothing. The street they live on is a one way side street, so we had to go down and loop back around to their house. On that street- one over from where my children are sleeping tonight- we saw a man getting arrested in front of a convenient store. That set us up for the warm fuzzies that is reunification.

We got to their house at 6:00. Baby 2 went right in with his firetruck. I carried a sleeping Baby 3 inside and laid him on the couch, BioDad grabbed the box, and Brandon grabbed the camera. When we were all in the living room, Dad asked some very thoughtful and appropriate questions about the boys schedule and food preferences. He reiterated his intent to have us involved in the boy's lives and we made plans for Baby 3's first birthday party next Sunday. Baby 2 went right to playing and unpacking the box of clothes that his Dad had brought in. Dad said he plans to have our contact with the boys continue as a Godparent relationship, which I found very wise since it requires no explanation about the boy's foster care placement. He hugged us when we left and thanked us for taking great care of his sons. I left feeling positive about the boy's well being. When we got to the door, Dad said "Baby 2, Say goodbye!". Baby 2 waved bye to his Dad and tried to walk out with us. Way to rip my heart out Baby 2...

On the way home, I teared a couple of times. Brandon and I tried to talk about our feelings, but didn't have anything worth saying. We both understood the other felt crushed. I can only describe the feeling like when someone gets stabbed, but doesn't even realize the knife is sticking out of their body. I knew something very traumatic had just happened to my family, but my mind couldn't comprehend the fullness of it, and my heart couldn't compute that much grief. 

I got home and put respite 4 (who was home with my Mom) to bed and tidied up while Brandon put in some laundry. We sat on the couch together in our silent house and Brandon fell asleep while I started this post.

Saying goodbye is heart-wrenching, but I would rather me feel sad when a child goes home than for my children to never have had a mother who was fully invested in them and loved them so deep that it made the oceans look like rain puddles.

I don't know what tomorrow will look like for me emotionally, but I know that I will never regret falling in love with Foster Care.

Stuff

Stuff is a huge deal when it comes to a child coming in or moving out of our home.

None of our 3 children came to us with any stuff. If they had though, I would have needed to make sure that they went home with everything that came in with them. Even clothes that don't fit anymore or are dirty/torn may have emotional connections with the child because it's from home.

Our kids stayed with us for 8 and 11 months, and it is AMAZING how much stuff they accumulated. Baby 1 went home with 3 Rubbermaid totes of clothes and shoes. I'm finishing up packing Babies 2&3, and they're going home with about the same amount of stuff.

I color coded the totes for Baby 2's clothes and Baby 3's clothes to make it easier for Dad. Those totes are stuffed with clothes for now into summer. Once fall comes, baby 3 will fit into baby 2's clothes.

Then there's the misc bags of toiletries and shoes

Packing a child to leave is very emotional for me. It makes the reality of them leaving hit me. Packing gets me thinking about what they have here that they may not have at home and I get anxiety about if I'm doing/sending enough to ease their transition back to their parents. It's not natural to move a baby out of your house.

I made sure to write notes to Dad about which toys each baby sleeps with and what their favorite games are. This giant box has a piano and drum set, build-a-bears that have our voices singing to the boys, a ride on Kawasaki, puzzles, pillow pets.

I also sent any food that came from WIC. Next month Dad will be getting the boys checks, but there is enough to get through next week until March.

Getting through packing is keeping me busy as we prepare for the boys to go home next weekend. Brandon dropped of everything except 8 outfits for each boy today at Dads house. They're spending the weekend home. Respite 4 is here for 9 days, so she'll preoccupy me for a couple of days after they go home for good. My house feels naked without all the boys stuff everywhere, but as soon as we get the call for baby 4, I'm sure stuff will fill every bare space very quickly.

Foster care gave me split personality disorder

Today was the custody and permanency plan hearing for our boys. They were ordered home by March 1, and they'll physically go home for good Feb 27th. We expected this decision, but that didn't really soften the blow. I'm still sorting through my emotions and I'm realizing that there are several different perspectives rolling around inside my one crazy head.

Personality #1: The Humanitarian

The humanitarian in me is so happy to have been part of the solution for a family in need. I feel like biological families should be together and I'm so happy for Dad. I'm reminded of the foster care mantra, "Our goal is reunification". I want to sing kumbaya or something similar while bringing the family back together. I realize that when we signed up to be foster parents, it wasn't to lay claim to anyone else's kids, but to provide a safe place when a child needs one. I want to bring the boys home today- the sooner the better! They need to live with their parents as soon as possible and then I can go on to the next case and help the next family reunite because "We are the world" and such...

Personality #2: Mama Bear

I am pressed dangerously close to violence to protect my babies. I have a gut instinct that my children are being moved from our very safe, secure home into a place that is a sneeze away from danger. I know that the life my children are used to is healthy and loving, and coming to a screeching halt. The situation they are being moved to is busy, unpredictable, and filled with new faces who haven't been around for the entire year we've had them. I'm sad about losing my loves, and angry that no one else sees that moving a 1yr old who has only known me as his Mommy is NOT healthy or pro-child. It is putting the rights of the parent above the best interest of the child. I was the one who went to the NICU everyday and held him when he was 3lbs. We got him to his healthy, 17lb 12th month. Dad said baby 3 is "easy going" just like him. UM, No! He's easygoing just like us. His mannerisms are from us. His temperment is from us. His food preference is from us. We've cared for him 11mo, 1week, and 1day. Longer than biomom was pregnant, longer than biodad was around at conception and visits combined. I am outraged that anyone would even consider nature v. nurture at this point! I'm doubting my ability to love any other children. No new kids can measure up to my boys, especially now that I'm jaded by the system. I want to keep my boys until the very last second until the caseworker has to come to my house and physically take them from me.

Personality #3- The Well-rounded Hopeful

Then there's this middle ground, where I get the legal basis of why they were sent home. I understand that Dad believes he loves these kids the best. I understand that if every child was moved into a "better" home, all kids would be moved because there is always a family who can provide more, teach better, etc. I'm holding onto Dad's word that we can stay connected with the boys after they go home. I know that new kids will come and I will heal. I also know that if the boys ever come back into care, they will be placed with us again. I believe that the kids are young enough to adjust to a different parenting style and culture. They won't notice the financial differences between their foster and bio families. I accept my complete lack of control in this situation and will ride out this final week by trying to stay present and absorb every moment with them.

I would like to see some stats about mental illness diagnoses after foster care certification, because I can't be the only one losing my mind!!

Hair's the Story: I wear my heart on my head

While styling my hair today, I had to laugh at how many looks I've sported since my relationship with foster care. Every time something changes in our family's situation, I take it out on my locks.

I'm excited to take a walk down hairdo lane:

September 2009. My 23rd birthday, our 4th anniversary, and 1mo since being certified for foster care and bringing home baby 1. I'm sporting a mid-length dark, layered look with trendy side swept bangs. Life couldn't get sweeter!

October 2009. The mom cut. It's mousy brown (I can't remember if I colored it like that, or if the dark just faded and I left it), short, and does the weird flippy thing in the back. Bangs? You can't really tell if they are short bangs that grew out or long bangs that accidentally got snipped too short. This cut happened after I was in full foster parent swing- taking care of a 3mo old and taking respite #1 (red shirt)!! Sick of pony tails, I asked the stylist for something short and fun. She gave me one look and decided frumpy best suited me. But just like my mom cut, life was effortless and and normal during this time and I loved it.

December 2009. The grow out. Here I am painting pottery with baby 1 mid-December. My hair is taking a break and letting nature run it's course. Same thing is happening in Baby1's case. Dad is fighting hard for him back, but is still not ready to keep baby safe. We have a court date the week before Christmas and the caseworker is telling me that baby may go home before Christmas since judge doesn't seem too concerned with the drug tests ("since it's just THC" !!!!!) and we've been doing overnight weekend visits for a bit over a month. I'm seeking the Lord's peace during this month, and trusting that my boy will be safe no matter what happens.

March 1, 2010. Judge orders baby 1 home by March 5 pending the safety inspection of Dads apartment. A full fringe bang and some blonde mark the occasion.

March 12, 2010- This is the last picture of baby 1 right before I bring him home for good. I was clearly 7 kinds of crazy when I decided to trim my hair myself. Apparently my bangs took the brunt of my heartbreak.

May 2010. I've had babies 2&3 for 2 months and my hair is the last thing I want to spend time on in the morning. So we go black and blonde and chop it super short with a fun high/low in the front. I feel like happy Mommy me is back, and my hair is following suit.

September 2010. My 24th birthday, 5th anniversary, and we're renewing our wedding vows!! Dad was all No's when we asked to bring baby 2&3 with us on a Vegas vacation so we could get married by Elvis. Using respite and missing our boys on my birthday was out of the question, so one craigslist ad later we brought Elvis to us and got married in my boss' backyard. My fun ringlets (courtesy of my BFF, Kiki) and "something blue" feather (courtesy of Etsy) are a great representation of how fun that day was especially since our sons were with us.

December 2010. There is no excuse for my hair. It's growing out again and my only goal is to keep it out of my face. In this picture is respite 3, who we had for 19 days. He was our first behavior respite case (as opposed to vacation respite). At 4yrs old, he has lived through too much and it shows in his acting out. This time is busy for us, and my hair is looking neglected.

Today!! I've gone with a red and short shag with quirky waves and a blunt bang. We are transitioning babies 2 &3 home. Court is Feb 17th. I feel like I should be all torn up, but I'm actually doing pretty well. Assuming the boys go home next Thursday, this hairdo will be saying goodbye to the tiny people I love more than my own life and probably welcoming the next chapter of our story. Respite 4 is coming next week. A 2yr old girl for 9days. The home finding caseworkers are pretty sure we'll have a new placement by the time she leaves.

I'm running out of new style ideas. Eventually I'll have to shave it. Maybe next year.