Pop Pop

A foster family will inevitably teach a foster child many new things.  Not everything K has learned at our house has been, shall we say, typical.  His response to a fart this week is usually...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmhcpbAYrYk

Yes, hand actions and face included.

Please Jesus don't let a social worker fart in front of K, and if they do, and if he says "pop pop", please let him forget who taught him to say it.

FYI...it wasn't me :)


Post script...K asked for seconds of carrot sticks at supper tonight.  Mr I don't eat vegetables, Mr I gag when my a vegetable is on my fork, that kid, he ate seconds of carrots at dinner.  (Yes, we are still singing at most meals :)

Crazy Haircuts and Eye Patches

Lots of kids struggle with getting their hair cut.  I get that.  My Nathan struggled with hair cuts until about a year ago.

K has been asking me to cut his hair so he can look like Steve.  I checked with his mom today and she said it was fine for him to have a haircut, but that he hated clippers.

So I decided to try and cut K's hair tonight.  He insisted that I use clippers, like I did when I cut Steve's hair.

The poor kid went into sensory overload. OVERLOAD!! He was hyperventilating, crying, hollering, wiggling.  I offered to use scissors, he did not want scissors and went into a full panic when I suggested it.  I offered to quit, but it was the weirdest thing, he wanted his hair cut even though it appeared to be torture for him.

At times the haircut took up to three people.  One to hold his ears (so I couldn't accidentally cut them...he might be on to something), one to hug him, and one to do the clipping.  Once I tried having William hold the clippers next to his head so I could sneak a few scissor snips in...it didn't work. He figured it out and wasn't pleased.

There was hair everywhere.  In his mouth, up his nose, down his back.  I was covered head to toe, Steve was covered head to toe, William was covered knee to toe.

I really only got about half a hair cut done.  Zero tidy up work, and nothing to speak of on the top of his head.  As you'll see in the photo, the top of his head wasn't really accessible.

So off he goes to school with half a hair cut, and a note to explain that we're doing his hair cut in stages.

We also had an optometrist appointment today and came home with a little deja vous :)

Eye patches.  

The Power of a Song

We've been pooping up a storm here at the Richardsons.  Many things have contributed to this success, more fruit, veggie + fibre juice, regular warm baths and perhaps our most powerful tool....this magical song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hxS2EAmE9NM 

It's only 45 seconds, and worth the flashback to 1980 if you watch it.  Now imagine Steve singing it.  A lot.

K so enjoys someone singing for him that he's asking for songs for just about everything.  So tonight, when he put up a fuss that we asked him to eat some cucumbers, Steve offered to sing him a cucumber song for every bite he took.  He ate one whole slice of cucumber, one bite, and one song at a time.

There are no amusing links for a cucumber song, because, as you've probably guessed, Steve had to do a little improv.  Steve currently has a song for carrots in production.  I can't wait to hear it.

Best thing he said all week?  When my sister was over for dinner yesterday, K looked at her hair, and asked her, "Why is your hair so 'Wowee wow?"  Quite a clever little man.

Our most EPIC first day ever

In 1998 (or so), we got a call about placing a set of twins in our house.  It was a boy and a girl who were 10 years old.  They were currently living with their Mom, and the worker that had been involved in their family was picking the kids up at school, and placing them in foster care.  We said we'd take them.  

Our kids were 8, 6 and 3, and we had 2 brothers already living with us.  The brothers were 9 and 11.   

The worker brought them to the house around 3, gave us the information they had, and left by 330.  I had to head out to a horse auction that night, so I left Steve at the helm of our new crazy household.  

It was pre-cell phone days, so at 8 or so I called Steve from a cell phone to ask how things were going.  One of the best all time answers, "Well, I called the police".

After I left Steve started making dinner.  The twins were in one of downstairs bedrooms.  After about 15 minutes Steve went down to check on them.  They weren't in the bedroom, or the basement...or anywhere.  He went back to double check the bedroom and noticed the window was open.  It quickly became obvious they had climbed out of the window.

So Steve ran outside to see if the twins were in the yard.  They weren't.  He can't remember the details of how he went to look for the kids, whether he called a neighbor to watch the houseful of kids, or whether he packed all the kids in the van, but somehow he got out and looked up and down our driveway (our 1 km long driveway). The twins were no where to be found.  

So he called the after hours worker, who told him to call the police.  He did.  He gave a description of the kids.  This was the description...two kids, a boy and girl, twins, ten years old.  They had identical hairdos, sort of curly, but mostly just sticking straight off their head.  (Think of a cross between Mowgli from the Jungle Book and Buckwheat from the Little Rascals).  The boy was wearing a coat that was about 4 sizes too big.  They both had a lisp.  Thank the Lord the worker left some paperwork or Steve wouldn't have known their last name.    

At about 730 the police called back to say they's found the twins, they'd gone back to their moms.  They brought the twins back to house.  When they got here they filled in the details about how they got home.  

They crawled out of the window, and to avoid being seen they went through the swamp between the house and the highway.  They went through belly deep freezing cold water in October.  Then they walked up the highway towards Brantford.  A four lane busy highway.  About 500 meters up the highway they knocked on someone's door and asked for a ride home.  Two little kids who were soaking wet and didn't have a good reason for why they were so far from home.  Someone drove them 15 kms into Brantford.    

Thankfully their Mom called the CAS to let the after hours worker know that the kids had shown up at the house.  And they were safely returned to our house.  

And so ends the tale of the most EPIC first night of a placement in our house.

Double Yay

It's been a quiet couple days.  In the land of foster parenting that is a small miracle.  I love small miracles!

We were in Toronto on Monday and Tuesday.  We took a mini family vacation. We asked to take K along with us, but he wasn't allowed to miss a scheduled visit with his mom.  So the poor kid missed a day at the zoo.

We got him out the door for school on Monday and Rachel (who's living with us at the moment) watched him Monday night.  He was as happy as a peach when we got home Tuesday night around dinner time.

The last few nights K has asked for a sleepy song on his way to bed.  I don't know what song he's looking for.  I've been singing him one of my kids favorites, but I don't think it's the right one.  I'll have to ask his Mom at the next visit if he has a usual lullaby.

This wee man has had a hilarious vocabulary the last few days.  The list (that I can remember) of words that he has used, in context and without any prompting?
Fabulous
Buttercup
Fantastic
Marvelous
Double Yay
Stupendous

Honestly.  So funny.

I can't overstate how nice it is to have a little guy around who is fun and easy to live with.  I think I'll have to dredge a few stories out of the foster family archives to keep this interesting.  Stay tuned for tales that have reached legend status in the Richardson household  :)

Food Issues

There is one thing I assume when a new foster kid moves in.

There's probably going to be an issue with food.  They might eat too much, or eat too little, or hoard food, or sneak it out of the garbage can at night. 

So we weren't shocked on day one when we gave K a banana and he carried it around for two hours.  He wouldn't let us throw it out, but he wouldn't eat it either.  Thank God for a petting farm, it was a big enough distraction that we could toss it.

It only took the weekend to figured out his thing is not eating, unless it's a favorite (and the list is short).   

I've been making an effort not to draw battle lines over what he eats, it's not worth it in these early days.  But I've also been balancing that with the concept that kids need boundaries, they need an adult to be in charge, and there are some issues that a 4 year old just shouldn't self pilot....and of course there is the whole poop issue.

Enter the bologna dilemma.  

K seems to like bologna.  We don't usually have it in the house (I don't think it's actually food) but he asked for it, and it's a good "meet you in the middle" food.  He happily ate it a few times last week.  

This morning he ate about 1/2 a cup of Sugar Crisp (don't judge, we're trying to diversify into the world of cereal here).  At noon I gave him a small dinner bun with bologna and cheese on it.  He didn't want to eat it.  He rolled the bun into tiny bits and stuck the cheese to his cup.  I'm not sure he really likes bread or cheese, so I threw it out but asked that he eat his bologna.  

He dug his heels in.  He was not eating it.  He rolled it into tiny little bits, and let it bake in the sun. 

So, I decided to do part one of "the food issue" mountain today.  I knew he was probably hungry, I knew that he likes bologna, it was only 1/2 a piece and I have all day.  I checked out my motives (it wasn't about a power struggle, I want him to be healthy and poop regularly), figured this was as good a time as any to let him learn that he is not in total control of what is served and when, and gave him a fresh 1/2 piece of bologna.

K paraded out all of what must be his usual "this'll get me what I want" tricks. We did tears, logical (bologna is yucky) and illogical (it's too red) arguments, gagging, yelling.  Every trick he had.  I just smiled at him and asked him to eat the bologna.  

I wondered more than once if it was worth it, but he needs to eat more than just yogurt and scrambled eggs right?  And it's a food he likes and he's hungry right?  There is value in learning to eat when it's time to eat, it happens every day in school right?  (Oh yes...that is self doubt....)

Anyway, he had to eat it before he could have a cookie, and he had to eat it before he could go outside and play with the boys.  It took over an hour, but in the end, he ate it.   

The whole time I was worried that I might be damaging the trust we've built up this week.  That it wasn't worth it because he would feel unloved.  It's a careful balance that doesn't have the same common denominators as you have with your own family.  I hope that deep within my kids bones they have the, "I'll always be here for you", "You can trust me", "I love you", soundtrack playing.  But foster kids don't have that history with me.  At the moment I'm just a stranger making him eat bologna.  

About 10 minutes after he left the table, K brought me in a flower he'd picked for me outside.  Later he sat happily down at the table for dinner.  He didn't eat much, but I wasn't doing another chapter in "the food issue" today.  He would have liked to have dessert, but managed to live with the "no dinner, no dessert" rule.  

I think we'll be alright.  And maybe, just maybe in a few months this post will seem like a life time ago.

Oh...of course...

Figuring out all the details, big and little, when you get a new foster kid is always a journey.

Some things are easy to figure out, and some things aren't.  Some things you get information about, and some things you guess.  Some things are really important, and some are incidental.  And sometimes you use a 4 year old as a source of information.

When we met K, one of the pieces of information we got was that he wore glasses.  When he arrived at the house, his glasses were safe and sound in their case in his backpack.

The worker let me know that they were corrective glasses.  (I'm going to be mature and not make any of the very obvious statements I could make here.)  She didn't know when he needed to wear them.  So I asked K.  He let me know they were only for school.

To double check, I put the glasses on him and he treated them like reading glasses.  Looking over them, perching them low on his nose...you get the picture.

So, I put the glasses away for the weekend, and by some miracle remembered to get them in his school bag on Tuesday.  The first person we saw when we got to school was the secretary.  Right after saying hello to K, she asked where his glasses were.  It was with a slightly smug feeling of pride that I let her know they were in his backpack.  I got a little bit of a sideways glance, but it didn't really register.

Next up, his teacher.  Hello to K, hello to me and ...."Where are K's glasses?".  Being every so socially perceptive, I started to see a pattern.  Apparently he should be wearing the glasses.

Turns out he needs to wear them all the time.  Every day.  He went the whole weekend, the fair and family visits, without seeing a lot of what we thought he was seeing.  (perhaps that's why he got bored at the derby?)

FYI....I didn't admit to the teacher that I got my information about the glasses from a 4 year old.  And thankfully this wasn't a make or break issue.

And now he has his glasses on every morning when I drop him off for school.  

Doctors Appointment

I took K to the doctors for his initial medical today.  It was a routine medical, and he did great.  At the end of the visit, the doctor asked if there was anything else.  K's response?  "Just the bill."

He had another visit today, but he had a much harder time saying good-bye to his Mom.  Lots of tears.  Even though he is settling in nicely with us, this is so far from ideal for a little guy.  When there aren't any off the wall behaviors it's easy to forget the trauma that goes along with being put in foster care.

By the time he got back home, he seemed to be back in a happy place.  

It has been a big week for the little guy.  We just met him seven days ago, and now we'll always be a part of his story. And he'll always be a part of ours. 

Seven Day Visit

Within seven days of a child moving into your home, there is (mandated by law) a follow up visit with the worker.  Ours was today.

The worker picked K up from school, and chatted with him on the way home.  After such a crazy weekend all he had to say was that he saw cars racing at the fair and that he ate turkey.  Thankfully our over the top, visit till you drop weekend didn't seem to traumatize him.

The worker and I did some grown up chatting and then something wonderful happened.....K asked the worker to peel his banana, and when she started to peel it, he did his yelling/crying thing, "I don't want you to peel my banana, I can do it myself!"  Why so wonderful?  Because it can be very difficult to explain to a worker what a particular behaviour looks like.  And somehow, as if by some magic, most kids don't show their 'stuff' to workers.  So when you are lucky enough for the worker to see it, it's a good day.

We're settling into a nice routine.  A nice bubble bath, hopefully a poop, some peek a boo, and off to bed.

Honestly, this is one of the easiest foster kids we've ever had.  I'm not complaining.  Not one bit :)

First day of school...with us anyway

There are different sorts of ways a kid can come into foster care.  When a child is apprehended, there is a little more uncertainty of what the short term plan for the child will be. So, to make things a little less chaotic for the child, foster parents are asked to maintain their current school placement for at least thirty days while the dust settles.  That means driving this guy to school for the next month.

The first day of taking a kid to their school is always a little weird when you’re the “new kid” on the block, but this morning went great.  We got ready and went out the door without a fuss.  And drop off was pretty easy too.  This man was happy to see his teacher, and she was happy to see him.

About 1 o'clock the worker called to let me know he'd have a supervised visit with his Mom from 2 - 4 today.  Visits will be twice a week after school.

Mom wanted to meet us, can't say I blame her, so Steve chatted with her after the visit.  We got a chance to ask what foods he liked etc.  She sent him home with a couple of his favourite toys.

I used to find biological parents intimidating, but I don't any more.  We've fostered for 18 years now, and had a lot of little people live with us over that time, and I can only recall 2 parents that we didn't have a good working relationship with.

We had a couple mini-melt downs during dinner but no big deal.  (ie: asking to be excused from the table, we say yes, he gets up and then hollars, "I want to sit at the table")   This little man is so good I may have to cease blogging....there isn't enough to write about :)

We had our first quiet evening tonight, and we spent it playing board games and drawing on pumpkins.

First weekend under our belt...

I know you were holding your breath waiting to see how the whole poop thing would work out.  It worked out :) The day started with a poop.

Breakfast was uneventful.  Then this little man went out to jump on the trampoline.  I was peeling apples for a pie and watching him jump through the window. (while you're reading this next part please remember I was not through my first coffee yet)

He bent over to look at his car, and then stared at it for a long time.  Then he ran to the door and lost it.

I thought this would be a good moment to teach him how to open the door (see coffee comment above).  He wasn't exactly responding well, then I figured out he was saying, "I pooped in my pants".  Yes, all the holding still and staring was really just round 2 of pooping (see coffee comment above).

I've got to be honest, I wasn't that worried about it.  I was just kind of glad he pooped.  I scooped him up and carried him upstairs to the toilet.  This didn't help his state of mind.  He went from a medium temper tantrum to an almost big temper tantrum.

I told him he wasn't in trouble, but that the rest of the day he'd need to do his poops on the toilet.  He was mad I made him sit on the toilet. He was mad that he needed to have a bath. He was even mad there was poop in his pants. I ignored him, and washed him up.  When he was over his fit, I talked to him about pooping on the toilet, and told him that if he pooped in his pants again he'd have to wear a pull up.  (I'm not sure if that was over the top or not, but he is four, and it wasn't like we were rushing around, I think he might just have an aversion to sitting on the toilet)

He looked at me and said, "It's a choice". I wasn't sure what he was talking about, so I asked him, what was a choice.  Cute smiled answer, "Wearing a pull up.  It's a choice."

How can you argue with that.

The rest of the day was great.  We had about 40 people here for dinner and he managed quite nicely.  Well done little guy, well done.

Day 3 - A few bottom issues

Our little man woke up in a good mood again this morning.  He played happily until we asked him if he wanted breakfast.  Then he did this little 1 second melt down thing.  He screams 'no', kind of cries and panics, and then may or may not do what you say.  So far he's been easy to redirect, but it's momentarily dramatic.  We saw about 10 of these today.

Breakfast was eaten, and then a bath was on the schedule to wash away the fair grime from yesterday.  Half way through the bath he asked to sit on the toilet to poop.  Seemed normal, warm water helped lots of my kids go to the bathroom.

Then the poor guy had a melt down.  A few quotes from the moment..."Help me, it's stuck", "Get the poop out", and my 'favorite', "it's stuck in the hole and it won't come out!"

And this is when it sucks not to have a clue about what is "regular" for a kid.

Does he normally struggle with being constipated or is this because of the stress of coming into foster care.  If it's normal what does his Mom do for him?  If it's not normal how can I deal with it in a way that isn't traumatizing?  How do I get him to stop screaming?  (I suggested returning to the tub and it worked)

So because it's a weekend and I can't connect with his worker, I'm going to go for the least intrusive solution for now.  We seriously cut back on the bananas, and pushed grapes all day.  And I'm going to sneak a suppository in tonight. (I hope that's as easy as it sounds)  That's the best I've got for now.  If that doesn't have the desired 'results', I'll give him a child sized dose of laxative tomorrow night.

Then we headed off to Steve's parents where he was perfectly delightful all day.

Funniest part of the day?  We went to a little park just around the corner, twice I looked over and he was standing there with his pants around his ankles.  Butt to the wind in the middle of the park.  I asked if he needed to pee, he responded with the 1 second melt down, said no, and I pulled his pants up for him.

Here's hoping for another good day tomorrow.  And a little (or big) poop.

Day 2 - A day at the fair

Day 2 -A day at the fair

I'm not sure how it happened, but this little man had an amazing day today.  He slept in past 8, woke up in a good mood, and acted like he's lived here for a lot longer than 17 hours.

A fair day for any four year old is tricky...how many treats will I get, how many rides can I go on, how long do I have to sit here and wait for the demolition derby to start...let alone a four year old who's just met you.

I questioned my judgement at taking him to the fair at all, but it's a big deal to the rest of the kids and I didn't want to ding their weekend by missing out on one of our major family traditions.

So off we went.  And then he had a great day.  Just a couple very minor melt downs, that we easily worked around, but besides that I'm still in a bit of shock that we not only managed the day, but that it was fabulous.

Day 1 was Nathan's day to shine, playing cars and keeping the little guy happily distracted.  Today was William's, and he helped out lots with hand holding and little guy corralling.  Seeing your kids help love a foster kid is really a blessing.  It's a small affirmation that we've done something right along the way.

I figured out he'll happily eat a hot dog and fries, and now at least have one meal in my bag of tricks if he doesn't eat much for a couple meals. 

One hilarious moment of the day?  He threw his empty drink box a few rows forward in the bleachers.  I'm not sure if it hit the guy in the head, but it did hit him. Thankfully it was empty...and thankfully the kind man didn't get upset.

I love that he refers to our house as "the country".

Kids are so resilient, he's had a crazy two days, and months leading up to his being taken into care, but he just did a whole day with smiles and cuddles.  It actually makes me sad is that he is okay with it.  What journey has this guy had that this isn't throwing him for a huge loop?  

Don't worry, by 18 years of being a foster parent haven't left me delusional, I know we won't be all sunshine and lollipops in this journey....but I'm glad the first two days have been.  

Day 1 - We have a four year old boy who needs a placement

I’ve been asked many times about what it is like to be a foster parent.  I thought I’d share this journey with you so you can have a front seat view.

Yesterday we got a call at 11 to see if we’d like to take a placement.  A four year old boy who was being apprehended that afternoon.  We were happy to say yes, and he was brought to the house at 3.

He settled in and was playing happily with Nathan in about 5 minutes.   That’s maybe the weirdest part of this day.  A little boy was taken out of his home by two police officers and three social workers, said good-bye to his Mom and settled in in a moment.  I was waiting for the storm.

He didn’t eat much dinner, and what he did eat didn’t get to his mouth with a fork. 

We needed to go shopping because he only had a toothbrush, a few toys and a backpack.  He has lots of stuff at his Mom’s house, but she was understandably flustered by the whole situation and didn’t get anything packed for him.  I was worried about going shopping with him, but it needed to be done. 

I asked Felicia and Sarah to come with me just in case things got ugly at the store.  While we were waiting to leave he got quiet, and I asked, “What are you thinking about?”, heartbreaking answer, “I’m thinking that I miss my Mom”.  All I had for the sweet little guy was a kiss and hug, but for the moment it seemed to do the trick. 

He was a rock star at Walmart.  The only very small glitch, refusing to get out of the cart to see if the pants were the right length.  I can live with that.  He was laughing his head off playing peek-a-boo.  Other shoppers commented on his gorgeous laugh.

He didn’t go to the bathroom all day. 

Bedtime was the next big test of the day.  Again he was a rock star.  He quickly settled in and fell asleep….and stayed asleep until 8. 

So far so good.  It is commonly referred to as a “honey-moon” period.  But we’ve had lots of kids that didn’t bother with the honey-moon and jumped right in to WHAT HAVE WE DONE phase!!

So we’re heading into Thanksgiving, one of our busiest weekends of the year with a four year old who’s known us less than 24 hours.   Pray for us :)