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Ready? Set? G….STOOOOOOP!!!!!

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I am just putting in a brief note here. 

After some Deep Thinking and pondering and contemplating and freaking out…I have decided to wait on being a foster mom. 

I am honestly just not ready.  I think I started feeling as if I HAD to be some kind of a mom.  All my friends are mom’s.  My own mother was a parent by the age I am now. 

But that can’t be the reason to do this. 

And I am sad.  I am sad to let go of the childs room that I had ready for them.  I am sad to let go of the idea of being a mom. 

But I am just not ready. 

And I would rather figure that out prior to having a placement, rather than after. 

Thank you to everyone for their kind words and advice.  I will be back if things should change!!

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Whole Hole…

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Still have not heard anything from DSHS.  I am aware that I need to find more patience.  But it’s very near running out completely.  Patience is on fumes right now.

The “baby room” as it has been deemed sits empty.  I keep the door closed.  It’s cold in there.  The curtains stay drawn.

The whole idea of being a foster mommy still scares the crap out of me.  That hasn’t changed.  But not knowing if that room should be changed into a craft room or decorated even more for a baby is just…well, honestly…it’s just sad.  Hmmm…baby room to help raise a child who needs a safe home, or a craft room for me to continue being selfish with my life and my time.  Make a difference in a child’s life, or make a change to some curtains and sew a little more…?

I am still confused.  I am still unaware.  I am still unsure. 

Sometimes I think that I am just not strong enough or patient enough to deal with the State.  Or even with someone else’s children while they try to stop being complete douche canoes.  (I know not all of the bio parents are dumbasses.  Just a good portion of them.)

I was laying in bed last night reading (Breaking Dawn – OMG I LOVE ROBERT PATTINSON!!!) and wondering what would be different if I was a mommy…foster or bio.  Would I even have time to read?  Would I be so exhausted day in and day out that I wouldn’t find things or do things that I enjoy?

I think I am just scared to lose myself.  And part of me, and I don’t know how big that part, doesn’t know if maybe I shouldn’t just wait to be a mom for a bit longer.  I am 31, but women are doing this later and later in life.  And maybe someday I will be fortunate enough to meet a nice guy who I can be a family with.  Be foster PARENTS together. 

I have never been one to wait around for a guy.  Well, I did enough waiting around when I was with the one I thought was The One…and he turned out to be The One Single Person Who Could Get Me To Hate Everything instead. 

I feel selfish.  I feel too young and too old.  I feel like an immature adult and an old kid. 

Maybe I have been obsessing with Twilight and all of it’s Saga this last month too much.  I was a bit late to the game and just started reading and watching them about 4 weeks ago.  Suddenly I gained renewed faith in finding love.  Yes, I found this from a book.  About vampires.  That sparkle.  And you know, that part that they don’t exist.  But for some reason, the girl who hates romance (uh, ME!) found a renewed spark in it.

Maybe I found that spark because I have been feeling more self confident physically.  I have lost 40 pounds in the last 6 months or so, and am starting to feel like a woman again.  One that has a figure and whose only shape isn’t just round. 

Letting Go, Letting God…My Mantra.  Need to listen to it and LIVE it.  Focus!!

I got PRIDE, yes I do, I graduated PRIDE HOW BOUT YOU?

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HA!

I gradumacated my foster/adopt PRIDE class on Sunday!  Yay!  I got my little certificate and everything!  I officially donated my weekends listening to people talk and got a certificate for it!  (Honestly though, the speakers were awesome!)

Last Friday I went and got my TB test done and did my fingerprinting. 

The TB test was a tiny needle that went under the first few layers of my skin on my left arm.  She forewarned me that it would leave a really strange bubble effect on my arm…It didn’t stop me from freaking out when I saw it!  It looked like I had some weird growth or HUGE whitehead/zit on my arm.  And it started bleeding.  So I had a nasty looking cyst type thing.  And I had to go in public still. 

I ended up with random blood dots all over my shirt. 

Thanksfully the bubble of ick went down by the time I was fingerprinted at the State Patrol office.  I am afraid that with the lack of english that the fingerprinting lady spoke, she somehow would think I had leprosy on my arm or something.  But as I said, it just looked like a small veiny bruise by then.

One of the girls that was in my PRIDE class was the most.annoying.lady.ever.  She was EXTREMELY soft spoken and no matter how hard the teacher guy tried to get her to speak up, she would always say it’s because the vents were blowing too loudly over her head and she couldn’t hear…um, we can’t hear YOU lady.  You can hear yourself in your head I hope? 

Every day Crazy Annoying Lady would bring in several different containers.  All of soup.  Different kinds of soup.  But still soup. 

And she would slurp them.  Not the little “oops, I slurped a bit” but the full fthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhht, with some of the noodles popping up and smacking their wet end on her face.  Well, except when she had the world’s most smelly broth type of soup.  That she dipped her bread with oddly colored cheese into. 

She ate soup about three times every class. 

After a full morning on the first day of class, listening to her slurp, I had already mentally evaluated that I hated the fact she was breathing my oxygen and no matter what she did, it would drive me nuts. 

And she drove several other people nuts too – that is one thing I love about “micro expressions”…they are SO easy to read on people. 

For the most part, everyone in the class was extremely nice.  A lot of kinship folks in there.  There was one couple that were a tad…whacky.  I can’t think of any other way to describe them.  No matter what she was correcting the teacher on (yes, because she knew EVERYTHING because she went to college and volunteered with kids once), her husband always looked at her with a mixture of cracked out-ness, fear and sexual ick.  She was a biiiig girl.  He was a scrawny Teva sandal wearing peg legged pants wearing wee man. 

And she always sat with her legs as far apart from each other as humanly possible.  In her skirts.  While constantly talking about how nothing but whole foods and organic were allowed in their house and how they worry about biological parents trying to rape them.  Or something…but that isn’t too far off. 

Anywho, I got my TB test read and I am negative.  I wasn’t exactly concerned.  But still – that would be my luck.  Everything else checks out but I have TB or something.  Or leprosy.

 

 

Oh, I could NEVER give up those kids…

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In 2008, when I first started going through some of the foster care classes (PRIDE), I started hearing this from people.

The “Oh, being a foster parent is not for me.  I could NEVER give back those poor kids.”….so, what?  Am I an asshole then?  I believe families should be together if it’s possible.

Or the “You have such a big heart! You can help a child!” I don’t know about all that.  And who is to say that that kid might not be helping ME?  They have almost all gone through more than most of us can even imagine.  And children are resilient.  It takes a lot to break that…and some are profoundly broken unfortunately. 

“Foster parents are saints”.  No, just normal parents.  Taking on some extra challenges.  Forming families a little differently than most.

Oh, and from a co-worker today…”Oh, Jae!  You really should talk to so and so.  What they went through was so heartbreaking.  And really think this over.  Raising children is so hard!”  Um, no shit?  But I am going to take a stab in the dark here and say that millions of women have children.  I may not be great.  Hell, I may realize that I am just not cut out to parent these kids.  Hell if I know. 

Oh and I had NO clue that children could be anything but FUN!  FUN in the morning!  Fun to take to the store!  Fun to watch cry and scream because dammit you won’t give them that chocolate milk right this freaking very second oh my God my life is over! 

Yeah…I am 30.  I have been around LOTS of kids.  I have had roommates with kids.  So yes, I have lived with kids. 

And no, I don’t think it will be the exact same as when I am the parent.

I am not the freaking brightest crayon on the box, but I am not a freaking nitwit. 

Plus, my mom DOES live with me…oh happy happy joy joy.  Granted, for the most part I don’t mind it. 

Anyways, I have the second two days of my PRIDE class this weekend.  Last weekend were the first two.  9 am to 5 pm.  On super beautiful days here in my neck of the woods.  And tomorrow, I am taking a vacation day so that I can get a TB test done and maybe get fingerprinted as well. 

My packet (application, etc) is almost completed.  I am ON.MY.WAY.

Ooh, and I have a crib, two strollers, two car seats (only one base though), a baby bath, a baby papasan…and that’s it.  And there could be a kid in there soon.

Or not…which is the part I am so scared of.  My mom recently got a DUI.  An extreme one.  In Arizona.  Eeeeesh.  She spent time in jail, has to get a restricted license, attend meetings and classes for three months…all that fun shit.

And it’s considered a gross misdemeanor.  The amount of money it is costing US (yes, I help support her) is gross.  And I am SO scared that since she has to have a background check and fingerprinting done as well, that they will say I can’t foster because she screwed up once.

Literally – once.  She has never even received a speeding ticket in her life.  She drives about 5 to 10 under the speed limit.  Typical 60 something year old.

So…who knows.  I am scared of not getting licensed, scared of getting licensed, scared of screwing some kid up worse, scared kids will hate me and kick me, terrified of the homestudy and my house not being ready, scared I won’t have the floors done in time, scared that m house smells like a damned animal and I won’t notice it, scared of Freddy Kreuger…oh wait.  That’s a different issue.  Damn it.

Honestly.  At some point I am going to start pulling my hair out.