Update Following Court

Very quick update.

Today we had a court date scheduled for LR.  This was a pre-trial conference and we were told by the DCS worker and the GAL that there would be requesting a change in the case plan.  Instead of the proposed agenda we found a new judge.  The judge continued all of the agenda items because they are retiring soon and since there would be a new judge for the remaining parts of the case they pushed all of the items to August.    So in a short statement, the update that I alluded to before actually did not occur.

On another note “LR” stands for “little roo” like “kangaroo”.  Thanks for reading and the large amounts of continued support we receive.

Parking Lot Politics

Driving into work this morning I had a quick flash back.  When we first had our first set of little ones I would go to work in the dark.  It has gotten to be that time of year again when the first lights of the horizon are barely peaking by the time I get to work.  Strange how little things can bring back a flood of memories.  I remember getting to their daycare and trying to figure out how I was going to maneuver the two little ones (remember neither of them walked in the early days) in side at the same time.  I developed a procedure.  First get the stroller ready, then the older into the stroller and with the other hand the car carrier.  I figured out that if I parked in spots with a little extra wiggle room it made my life easier regardless of how others parked.  In those early days I am sure I looked a whole lot more inefficient then I am today.

Once at work I parked in the fourth spot from the end (there is a paint smudge which helps remind me of which one is the one).  Seems like more people than not here at work have assigned parking even though we are free to park in any of the spots.  I remember a time that I overheard one of the other works upset about someone parking in their spot.  In some places, the rules of the parking lot put a unspoken rule of which spot you can park in; much of the time that I go places with the kiddos that I go regularly I find myself applying the same basic concept.

I remember back before we had kiddos at all and we were visiting dear friends in Reno.  We decided to go to Costco to pick up a few items.  The friend had just fathered his first child and explained to me that he parks further into the parking lot close to a cart return.  It seemed odd to me at the time.  I thought to myself… it has to be easier the closer you are to the front door, but the words and actions hung in the back of my mind.

Now we flash to our current situation.  Three children, one back seat.  Simple enough, we place the baby in the middle and the two toddlers go on either side.  That was certainly a puzzler.  Still, I have to drive each day after work to pick up the SUV and leave my little car for Cheryl to take home.  As I drive into our daycare (yes a different one from the earlier memory) I search.  I look for a spot that has a little more wiggle room on either side and I am willing park a bit further away if it means I am not parked next to another car; nothing against the other cars, just much easier to make the journey to center of the back seat for that baby seat.  Most times, we have the boys walk out and stand next to the car (one hand on the body) waiting for the click.  It works better than expected.  Most people at daycare follow the unspoken rules of parking… not all but most.

When we are out and about, now that is a different question.  Places like Target and Costco it is simple enough to follow the cart rule, but and the wiggle rule works itself out (if we park next to a cart return there is a little bit of wiggle).  Now going to the mall, that is a different world all together.  Even the fancy pants mall seems to squeeze the parking spots so close together.  Some time (I think Saturday) this last weekend we ventured out to “The Children’s Place”.  We pulled toward our usual small spot park garage and there were four cars waiting just to go in so we tried a different garage.  Down we drove below the shopping.  Every spot towards the front was parked in until we got almost all the way to the end of the row.  Cheryl found a “pole spot”.  These spots are more generous than other parking garage spots and allowed us to have a little, unexpected room, on one side.    We did our mall shopping came back out and as we walked to our spot we had a spot creeper.  That spot creeper sat and waited at least seven minutes while we busted it to try to get the car loaded and the kiddos set.

I know that many of these rules existed before Cheryl and I began fostering.  I also know that many of these rules are self-imposed and are not necessarily followed by some.  Much of the time they are things Cheryl and I do so that we can be productive.

Hope you all have a great day (and remember to the follow the local rules of your parking lot)

On a separate note, we have had lots of people ask for pictures of the kiddos.  Here is a link to the Baby Puzzle’s Instagram page.  http://instagram.com/baby_puzzle  Lots to upload, but it is a start.

Procedure

This afternoon I left work as normal. Drove the distance from my work to Cheryl’s work to pick up her car so I could pick up the kiddos from daycare. Then drove to daycare and home. There is an art to getting three children into the house all at once without having to many fussyness.

Dogs fed… and changed into comfy clothes. Little lady is not enjoying her swing. How about tummy time? No? Really? Wet diaper… no? Oh you just want to rock. Luckily the two boys love playing, I can accommodate a good rock. My phone gently buzzes as I rock, rock, rock. “I am leaving in two minutes,” Cheryl reports. Yes a new worker all ready on the case is coming tonight. A few more sentences and … “Cheryl I need to go.” The younger of the two boys is on the floor crying. Looks like he slipped off his push bike.

15 minutes until our appointment. I know… let get dinner started. Juice… yes works like a charm for those tears. The two boys are on a BRAT diet still. Toast started. Fruit slice, slice, slice. A little turkey (not part of the BRAT but the doctor told us to add it in). Everything on the plate and served. Let me make a bottle, just in case the youngest wants her dinner.

Cheryl walks in the front door a few minutes later. A few minutes after that… a knock at the door. A new to us worker comes in. He quickly breezes through the questioned form. Not the kiddos worker… a replacement worker for the time being. He leaves within 15 minutes of arriving. A few more minutes to finish dinner. Little lady starts to voice her need for her dinner. I finish quick. To the rocker with a full six ounces I go with the little girl.

As I set down and start to feed her I hear more crying. Unusual for the timing, but not for the kiddo. I continue to feed, Cheryl works on baths… the crying continues. Minutes tick by and what was a simple fall from a push bike looks to be a larger problem. Cheryl and I decide that he needs to go to the Urgent care. She goes I stay to get the other two down. Finish feeding and burping and rocking… the youngest goes to sleep. A few quick songs and the oldest’s eyes grow heavy. To bed.

I text Cheryl. Nothing. 45 minutes I try to call. No answer. What is wrong. What happened. Another thirty minutes I get a call with a diagnoses. The hardest part is the way Cheryl is treated. They interrogate her. Question her like she is an abuser. She was not even there when it happened. Moreover… the kiddos fall on a regular basis. We respond quickly once we realized there was something wrong. It is just “procedure”. That is what they tell her.

Time now for healing. Thanks for reading.

Old is New… Again

Yesterday was the four week mark since the little ones left our home to live again with their mom.

The hours, days and even first week felt so surreal, no way had they left our lives for good.  We would find ourselves saying things we would only say for them like our songs or our nicknames.  We would find ourselves doing things around the house like they were there.  There empty rooms we called by name even still while they sat empty.  Yesterday morning I turned to Cheryl and said to her that today was the four week mark.  She was shocked and could not believe it had been that long.  I too cannot believe it has been that long.

We both went to work, each of us about our own day.  Around noon (I think about 11:40) my office phone range with the information plate saying Cheryl’s number. “Agnes says she is putting our name in for a little three month old girl and another year and a half year old boy.  What do you think,” Cheryl said as I answered the phone.  What do I think?  I think this is what we had talked about.  This is what we decided we were called for.  Are we ready?  What should I have done this last weekend to be better prepared?  How are we going to be able to pick them up?  “Yes, let me know what you hear,” is all I really mustered up.

So much to do at work, for work.  Let me type up an emergency set of plans… just in case.  Last time we had actually received a similar call and in the end the children had been placed with a different family so there is no need to alarm the people I work for just yet.  From what we have been told, many people who foster have at least one parent who stays home.  Twenty, thirty, forty minutes wade by.  ALL of the little task I thought were an emergency seemed to get done easily and with plenty of time to spare.  I went back to the other tasks of the day.

Ten minutes later the phone rang again… again Cheryl’s number popped up.  Cheryl conveyed that our foster agency had told her that the little boy would be coming to live us.  Also, Cheryl had talked with the CPS worker and she would be at our home at 1:30… thirty-five minutes away.  I quickly checked in with a co-worker who needed something and also talked with my supervisor to let her know I needed to leave.  Yes, twenty eight minutes to make it home; should be just enough time.

I spent the afternoon introducing our new addition to our home.  One experience that I had not thought through completely is the fact that when you are parenting you get to a point where you expect certain behaviors, certain reactions.  A new addition means a whole new set of rules about what to expect.  I think the coming weeks we will really spend that time understanding out new set of expectations.

In the afternoon we were able to set up daycare.  We came up with a game plan to get to the doctor’s (by the end of the week).  We are set and ready for a new host of experiences and challenges.  This weekend also we will have guests as Cheryl’s mom will come to visit as well as the two little ones who once called our house, home.  Thanks for reading.

Two in Two

Paperwork.  I think I made more than a few comments about the paperwork as we went through the pre fostering time.  It was extensive and tedious and extensive and tedious.  Once we had completed the classes and the home study and had kiddos in our home one would have thought, maybe, that paperwork would be all done.  However… we have chopped down another forest worth of paper since then.  New paperwork is required.  Car registration and health forms…

Notice to Provider.  In order to take foster children to see a doctor, or to daycare, or physical therapy, or most other places one may need to go, a foster parents needs to have a thing called a “Notice to Provider”.  This is just a simple piece of paper which states that we are responsible for them.  The interesting thing is, you don’t necessarily know when you might need another copy of it.  Being the brilliant thinker I am J I scanned the NTP and created a PDF which I sent to myself.  In one case we were able to use the email only in the many other times this form still needed to be in paper.  On more than a few occasions we found ourselves re-printing.

Documentation.  So many things need to be documented from monthly visits by CPS to doctors and physical therapy visits, and even the bumps and scrapes kiddos learning to crawl and walk receive.  If it happened and someone somewhere else might want to hear about or know about it the thing needs to be documented.  Luckily in many cases these pages and papers could be virtual and passed along through fax or through email.  A little bit of documentation at the time of any interaction goes a long way in making things run a whole lot more smoothly.  The most interesting thing is that even after the kiddos leave your care more documentation may still be needed/required.

Certificates.   Depending on the level of knowledge you have of Arizona’s foster care system you may or may not be aware that foster parents need to be licensed (which is not a bad thing).  You also may or may not know that foster parents need to complete trainings throughout the time in order to renew this license.  And you also may or may not know that even though the license is good for two years half of the required hours is due within the first ten months.  The tricky part for those with kiddos in the home, many of the trainings are not children friendly (meaning that while the adult needs to be there most trainings do not have a place for the kiddos to be).  This is especially difficult two foster parents who work full time.  Luckily for us some of the time can be done online.  We will hit our needed hours by the end of the day.

Two posts in two days; seems like this might be the calm before the storm.  Still no idea what lies ahead of us.  Thank you all for the many kind words and for taking the time to read.

Butterflies and Jackrabitts

It is a gentle spring morning.  The hum of our Honda vibrates while the two of us sit in silence.  Thoughts racing in wonder of what would come.

Earlier in March we had sat in the same Honda with the same hum in silence.  Why?  We had just decided that our next course of action would be “IUI” and if that did not work “IVF”.  3 and 1.  That is 3 sets of insemination and one set of the more invasive in-vitro -fertilization.  Up to that point we had discussed insemination or adoption, but now a decision – our own genetics – god willing.

As we pulled off of the highway there was a sudden rush of nerves.  It was like “ok, today could be the day that I become a mom –  today is the day Nick might be a dad”.  That is an enormous thought; a thought that is played out for the rest of one’s life.  Most people have idea of about around the time it happens, but here we were.  It was this time.  We pull into our RE’s parking lot, a deep breath is drawn in –  it is time.

We walk into the waiting room, just a sole nurse sitting behind the desk.  Paper work first.  Nick fills out some brief information.  He places his name, the date “March 28, 2013” and his social security number on three stickers.  Sloppy – the numbers don’t quiet fit, but it will do.  After filling out the four pages of information the nurse gives back one of the papers and the three stickers to me. 

Again we sit, heart racing.  Now one other couple sits in the waiting area with us.  Quiet shrouds of whispers escape their lips and I swear my heart sounds louder than their whispers.  We were on time and now it seems like an eternity of listening to the butterflies chirp.   “Swoosh-squeek-squeek”  – “Nick”  Finally Nick is called back and me – left to sit out in the waiting room listening to the chirp chirp of butterflies.

Nick has left the waiting room… Will this work?  What will it be like?  What will we experience?  Will our baby be a boy?  Will our baby be a girl?  Will our baby be healthy?  What will the doctor have to say?  Will the IUI be painful?  Will this work?  Will I have a chance to see if my egg(s) have been released?  How long does this take?  Why are these chirps so loud?  I wonder what this other couple is here for?  What is Nick doing right now?  Why is so cold in here?  What will we experience?  Will this work???  Will this work?  Will this… “Swoosh-squeek-squeek”  

Nick emerges from the behind the door that he had left into while I listened to the chirping butterflies.  “Here,”  he hands me one of the three stickers that he had written his name, the date (March 28, 2013) and his social security number on.  Wait, where are the other two?  My watch tell me that there is more than an hour to wait for the second half of this appointment.  “Is there a Starbucks near by,” I decide to break the loud chirping with.

We drive to and from Starbucks.  Random conversation.  Nick described the room.  Ah… the other stickers ended up on a sheet of paper and the reception cup.  All of the random conversation still gets us back to the quiet waiting room with almost fifteen minutes to wait.  Now there are five people waiting.  The conversation between the two couples is too low to try to hear.  I can still hear the chirping of butterflies – so much waiting – so many questions – so many fears.  Will this work?

We are called back to a mid-sized examine room.   Cheryl leaves me to put on a gown.  Why do these rooms have to be so stark, so white?  What will the doctor do to Cheryl?  What is the process.  I know they said something about washing it, but what does that look like?  Cheryl comes back into the room, she looks so brave and ready to do this.  We sit in the examine room and my heart continues to thump harder and harder; I swear it sounded like a jackrabbit in my chest.  Cheryl had been a bit more quiet than usual today which made the waiting in that waiting room that much more … “knock knock”

“Good morning, Cheryl”.  I see the doctor come in – wait that’s not our doctor.  Why is he here?  Where is the person we had talked about this entire process? I thought … “Where is doctor J?” Cheryl interrupts my thoughts.  “He is not in today” says the strange unknown doctor.  I see Cheryl’s face go from nervous to wonderment and disappointment.  “It is pretty typical, we don’t always even have doctors come to the IUI treatment”.

“Wait!”  I scream in my head… the person we had put trust into would not be here for our day?  No time to show disappointment.  No time to argue the point.  NO!  I need to be here for Cheryl.

The strange unknown doctor describes the entire process.  “This is what a wash looks like”  THUMP THUMP THUMP   “Is this the same name and social security number”  THUMP THUMP THUMP  “There is going to be some pressure”  THUMP THUMP  “We wait just about three minutes”  THUMP  “Will you fill out this form while you two wait in here for 20 more minutes.”  THUMP THUMP  – Swoosh, Click.

Whoa… that’s it.  I could be a dad right now,  Oh my goodness, what all did he say, how can I help Cheryl?  What should I be doing right now?  Oh yeah the “survey”… so so so long.  No Cheryl that is why I am here.

Squeeck, scratch  mmmhp… the chair I am sitting in moves along the floor closer to Cheryl.

I stare into her soft blue eyes.  Her smile seems to glow in the low light room.  We sit exchanging smiles and short kisses.  The room seemed so sterile when we came in now seems to have a heavy heat of love and excitement.  This could be the moment.  Our lives could be changing.  We share 20 minutes in the moment of unified confident oneness.  Our hearts and souls where are ready together but in this instance that she shared, we could never take away.

The hum of Honda carried us home that late morning.  We were so excited, given directions that on April 11 we would know yes or no.  We listened again to the hum of our Honda twice more in the same way that we did on the March morning.  The chirping of butterflies and thumping of jackrabbits thundered the same way as they had.  We shared those same moments in that sterile examine room in unified confident oneness.  Our baby puzzle ended in negatives each time the same as the last months.  We continue on into July and August and September together with the confidence that we walk this journey together.