Turns out clocking four and a half hours of exercise yesterday may have been overkill. We (me and the foster kiddo I'm providing respite care for this week) certainly were both overtired today. Between that and a rain shower that killed our long morning walk, we only had about two hours total of exercise today. And I was so tired that I let her watch a movie before and then after dinner (just one short movie, with a break in the middle for dinner).
Something about all of those factors was a recipe for tearsville. She demanded to sleep in my room; I refused to budge (nicely and lovingly, but unwaveringly). It should have been heartbreaking. She was expressing loneliness and fear, and my heart should have simply melted into a puddle of compassion. It didn't. And I don't think that's because I am a heartless, cruel, and selfish woman who yearns for the hours in which I get to sleep alone and unkicked (though that last bit is certainly true). I think it's because I knew it wasn't entirely genuine.
If I were faced with a child who was legitimately lonely or fearful, I'd like to think I would come up with some sort of self-sacrificing compromise (like offering to sleep upstairs on the couch outside her room). But in the world of kids from hard places, it can be hard to tell what is true need and what is fatigue, overstimulation, or manipulation.
I had some clues:
1. She unfailingly sleeps like a rock from the moment I finish the bedtime ritual.
2. There is a baby monitor between her room and mine, and she knows I will come when she calls.
3. This is her sixth night here, and she has never had any fear or loneliness at bedtime before.
4. She cried actual tears only when she was looking at herself in the mirror, and stayed in the bathroom as long as she could to watch herself cry. (this was the biggest clue--a child who loves to watch herself cry is probably not really that upset)
5. She stopped cold as soon as I began to read our bedtime book. (real crying has a wind-down period)
6. She had well-practiced stock responses to some of my suggestions, which she emitted long before I had offered them. For example, "I need something ALIVE!" came out several minutes before I reminded her of the stuffed toys she sleeps with.
If a child is truly frightened in the night, then I believe you should comfort her. If, however, what the child needs most is sleep, then I'm not going to sacrifice my night of sleep to give her something that will actually impede her ability to sleep. Plus, the ramifications of my not sleeping will be far more disastrous than a ten minute tear fest at bedtime.
Compassionate or cold, I responded the only way I could. She fell asleep the minute I walked out the door.
February 29, 2012
February 28, 2012
Daily Schedule
I love schedules. If I'm going anywhere: road trip, conference, cross-Europe concert tour, I want an itinerary. And if it comes in a binder with color-coded tabs and footnotes, even better. And yet, once I have that bright, shiny, informative itinerary, I'm more than happy to veer off course at any time.
So, naturally, I formulated an ideal daily schedule for this foster respite about a week before I ever met the child. I have waited several "real" days before posting it, just so it would be as accurate as possible and not some kind of mythical creature.
What is the purpose of the daily schedule? It serves many useful purposes:
1. Reassures the child that there is a plan and that it is predictable (it's posted in her room and on the fridge, and she checks it often).
2. Reduces the number of times the child will ask about particular activities (she actually held the schedule in her lap for one of our drives today).
3. Makes sure we are getting food into that little one every two hours, on the dot. I cannot over stress what a massive difference this makes.
4. Makes sure we're getting enough exercise. (Hint: we absolutely are)
5. Keeps me from getting sidetracked, lost, or flustered (as much as possible, anyway).
6. Establishes a routine for our days, which is a huge help in establishing felt safety.
What does ours look like?
7:00 Walk around the block
7:20 Breakfast
7:40 Morning chores: brush teeth, get dressed, make bed
8:00 Art/Reading
9:00 Snack
9:15 Interactive game (bought or invented)
10:00 Fun Outing (varies each day, usually involves exercise, lasts til lunch)
11:00 Snack
12:30 Lunch
1:00 Quiet time
2:15 Snack
2:30 Afternoon exercise (long nature walk, playground, etc.)
3:30 Doll or puppet play
4:15 Snack
4:30 Free Play
6:30 Dinner
7:00 Evening chores: tidy up, lay out clothes
7:15 Bath and brush teeth
7:30 Story time
8:00 Bed
Obviously this varies depending on when she wakes up, but 7 has been pretty constant. And she is not always able to handle "free play," so we have done a variety of other activities around the house. The morning chores we do together, first all of her chores and then all of mine (I am already dressed, of course, but she likes watching me put on makeup). I had originally given more time to the bath, but she is not that interested in playing for long periods of time in the tub, so it has ended up being about 15 minutes each night.
Some objections to the schedule:
1. It's a lot of exercise.
Yes, yes it is. We have found some ways to cope with this--swim time, affordable gymnastics classes, even inventing an imaginary exercise class we were running out in the driveway. For most of these kiddos, exercise is a great way to balance out their brain chemistry and burn off some of those stress chemicals. So yep, there's a lot of exercise.
2. You really feed her every two hours?
You better believe it. We do a lot of portable snacks: trail mix, healthy granola bars, carrots. And the snacks are fairly small but balanced (with as little sugar as humanly possible). Meals are also smaller, though not by as much as I was expecting.
3. That seems awfully rigid.
It's not actually. It's flexible on everything but food. We stretch things out if we have a longer outing or a special afternoon activity. This is just the basic framework--I'm not blowing a whistle every time we're supposed to switch activities.
4. Doll and puppet play, what's that?
We literally play with puppets (or dolls). It's a great opportunity to practice emotion scripts and social situations without feeling threatening to the child. Milo the monkey is rude and then learns a nicer way of sharing with Perry the Panda. Brittney the doll is feeling sad. What can she do when she is feeling sad? etc.
5. That seems really hard.
Yep. We are pretty much within 3 feet of one another all day long. She loves it, but it's hard on introverted me. The nice thing is that it builds trust quickly. We are already worlds improved from just four days ago in terms of manners, "house rules," and some self-regulation stuff (i.e. she will catch and correct herself mid-sentence). But yeah, it's incredibly tough to stay cheerful and creative when I just want to sit by myself and breathe for a while.
6. Quiet time? How does that work?
That's material for tomorrow's post. This post is long enough!
So, naturally, I formulated an ideal daily schedule for this foster respite about a week before I ever met the child. I have waited several "real" days before posting it, just so it would be as accurate as possible and not some kind of mythical creature.
What is the purpose of the daily schedule? It serves many useful purposes:
1. Reassures the child that there is a plan and that it is predictable (it's posted in her room and on the fridge, and she checks it often).
2. Reduces the number of times the child will ask about particular activities (she actually held the schedule in her lap for one of our drives today).
3. Makes sure we are getting food into that little one every two hours, on the dot. I cannot over stress what a massive difference this makes.
4. Makes sure we're getting enough exercise. (Hint: we absolutely are)
5. Keeps me from getting sidetracked, lost, or flustered (as much as possible, anyway).
6. Establishes a routine for our days, which is a huge help in establishing felt safety.
What does ours look like?
7:00 Walk around the block
7:20 Breakfast
7:40 Morning chores: brush teeth, get dressed, make bed
8:00 Art/Reading
9:00 Snack
9:15 Interactive game (bought or invented)
10:00 Fun Outing (varies each day, usually involves exercise, lasts til lunch)
11:00 Snack
12:30 Lunch
1:00 Quiet time
2:15 Snack
2:30 Afternoon exercise (long nature walk, playground, etc.)
3:30 Doll or puppet play
4:15 Snack
4:30 Free Play
6:30 Dinner
7:00 Evening chores: tidy up, lay out clothes
7:15 Bath and brush teeth
7:30 Story time
8:00 Bed
Obviously this varies depending on when she wakes up, but 7 has been pretty constant. And she is not always able to handle "free play," so we have done a variety of other activities around the house. The morning chores we do together, first all of her chores and then all of mine (I am already dressed, of course, but she likes watching me put on makeup). I had originally given more time to the bath, but she is not that interested in playing for long periods of time in the tub, so it has ended up being about 15 minutes each night.
Some objections to the schedule:
1. It's a lot of exercise.
Yes, yes it is. We have found some ways to cope with this--swim time, affordable gymnastics classes, even inventing an imaginary exercise class we were running out in the driveway. For most of these kiddos, exercise is a great way to balance out their brain chemistry and burn off some of those stress chemicals. So yep, there's a lot of exercise.
2. You really feed her every two hours?
You better believe it. We do a lot of portable snacks: trail mix, healthy granola bars, carrots. And the snacks are fairly small but balanced (with as little sugar as humanly possible). Meals are also smaller, though not by as much as I was expecting.
3. That seems awfully rigid.
It's not actually. It's flexible on everything but food. We stretch things out if we have a longer outing or a special afternoon activity. This is just the basic framework--I'm not blowing a whistle every time we're supposed to switch activities.
4. Doll and puppet play, what's that?
We literally play with puppets (or dolls). It's a great opportunity to practice emotion scripts and social situations without feeling threatening to the child. Milo the monkey is rude and then learns a nicer way of sharing with Perry the Panda. Brittney the doll is feeling sad. What can she do when she is feeling sad? etc.
5. That seems really hard.
Yep. We are pretty much within 3 feet of one another all day long. She loves it, but it's hard on introverted me. The nice thing is that it builds trust quickly. We are already worlds improved from just four days ago in terms of manners, "house rules," and some self-regulation stuff (i.e. she will catch and correct herself mid-sentence). But yeah, it's incredibly tough to stay cheerful and creative when I just want to sit by myself and breathe for a while.
6. Quiet time? How does that work?
That's material for tomorrow's post. This post is long enough!
February 27, 2012
Today's Hero
I would just like to thank the lady we spoke to today at The Little Gym who rode in on a conversational white horse and saved the morning.
I had a rough night of very little sleep, and had maxed out my creativity this morning handling some "no" situations that needed complicated mental gymnastics to turn them into "yes" situations. The little one did not eat enough breakfast or enough morning snack, so blood sugar was low. We walked into the Little Gym, and of course the bright shiny leotards on display beckoned to her like a desert oasis. I'm all about empowering harmed children and giving them voice, but there was no way I was going to buy a $40 outfit for a kid who's never tried a gymnastics class in her life. I said, gently and lovingly, no.
Bless the sweet lady behind the desk, who swooped in and said, "Why don't you wait and see what the other girls in the class are wearing? My daughter takes that class, and she wears just shorts and a t-shirt." Crisis averted!
That is a variation on what I would have said if I had been better rested or if we had had a smoother morning. I know sometimes strangers say the absolute worst thing possible, but in this case, I thank God for the lady who jumped in with the perfect response.
Grace upon grace.
I had a rough night of very little sleep, and had maxed out my creativity this morning handling some "no" situations that needed complicated mental gymnastics to turn them into "yes" situations. The little one did not eat enough breakfast or enough morning snack, so blood sugar was low. We walked into the Little Gym, and of course the bright shiny leotards on display beckoned to her like a desert oasis. I'm all about empowering harmed children and giving them voice, but there was no way I was going to buy a $40 outfit for a kid who's never tried a gymnastics class in her life. I said, gently and lovingly, no.
Bless the sweet lady behind the desk, who swooped in and said, "Why don't you wait and see what the other girls in the class are wearing? My daughter takes that class, and she wears just shorts and a t-shirt." Crisis averted!
That is a variation on what I would have said if I had been better rested or if we had had a smoother morning. I know sometimes strangers say the absolute worst thing possible, but in this case, I thank God for the lady who jumped in with the perfect response.
Grace upon grace.
February 26, 2012
Two Choices
Another Karyn Purvis method that I've been using nonstop is the concept of two choices. You give children two choices in order to help them feel empowered and to let them know that they have a voice. Over time, this builds confidence and connection.
So I have been throwing choices like there is no tomorrow. "Do you want the big spoon or the little spoon?" "Do you want to scoot your chair in or do you want me to scoot it in?" I make up things to give choices about all day long. Slowly, it is building trust between us. It is also a great, non-nagging way to practice asking with respect. You can also use it as a clever way of saying no and making it sound like you're saying yes. For example, my respite kiddo wanted to go to McDonald's for lunch (because they have a playground). So I responded, "we've got yummy sandwiches at home, would you like to go to the park after lunch or do some art?" The child feels heard, feels like she has a say in things, and yet we don't have to go eat junk at McDonald's. Win win!
You can read more about two choices and other strategies in Dr. Purvis's book, The Connected Child.
So I have been throwing choices like there is no tomorrow. "Do you want the big spoon or the little spoon?" "Do you want to scoot your chair in or do you want me to scoot it in?" I make up things to give choices about all day long. Slowly, it is building trust between us. It is also a great, non-nagging way to practice asking with respect. You can also use it as a clever way of saying no and making it sound like you're saying yes. For example, my respite kiddo wanted to go to McDonald's for lunch (because they have a playground). So I responded, "we've got yummy sandwiches at home, would you like to go to the park after lunch or do some art?" The child feels heard, feels like she has a say in things, and yet we don't have to go eat junk at McDonald's. Win win!
You can read more about two choices and other strategies in Dr. Purvis's book, The Connected Child.
February 25, 2012
Do Vs. Don't
Okay, so I'm 26 hours into my first respite gig in foster care. And I'm exhausted, but it's going really well. I hadn't fully realized how tiring it would be for introvert to spend 13 hours a day without ever being alone for two seconds. Plus I didn't really sleep last night, listening in case she needed anything (we've got a baby monitor setup between the bedrooms, which is a must, even though she's seven). But anyway, on to what I've been thinking about and trying to do all day.
Dr. Karyn Purvis, whose methods I've been following as closely as possible, talks about the importance of building as many yes's into your interactions with kids from hard places. You are building the trust that a new mother would build with an infant over 12-18 months of meeting that infant's needs. I am completely on board with that concept, but it turns out that almost everything a seven-year-old wants to do or have is either off limits or actually dangerous. That kind of goal vs. reality struggle will really stretch your creativity!
I grew up in a house with strict parents and a lot of rules. It was an upbringing that had a lot of positive results, results which I would like to see in every child I know. Basic manners, hygiene, and a sense of responsibility are all important things for parents to teach. What I ran into today was the challenge of teaching these things without lobbing a bunch of "don'ts" at a child with whom I need to build trust. A hundred times today, I would have liked to say "don't leave the light on," "don't dump your things on the floor," "don't talk with your mouth full," "don't run with a stick in your hand," and on and on and on. Instead, I had to find ways to make the same point without the negative verbiage.
What I did that worked (at least for today), was to focus on "do's" instead of on "don'ts." The biggest factor that made this effective was to do all the "do's" together. We brushed teeth together; we made beds together; we picked up toys/clothes/hair accessories together; we carried plates into the kitchen together; etc. etc. Kids from hard places crave connection so much that they will in fact do these things with you (which doesn't necessarily hold true for children without trauma histories). I did it all with a playful tone of voice so that it was more of an activity and less of a chore. Now, I've heard some feedback on this where people say that it takes longer if you do it this way. I would argue that it actually doesn't. True, it takes time you could be spending doing something else. But usually you'd be spending that time asking the child to do or not do something, repeating that request (perhaps several times), and probably then doing or redoing the original thing yourself after all of that. So to me, it is more efficient to do the things with the child and try to make them fun (borrowing a bit of Mary Poppins' magic).
And some things I just let slide, waiting to tackle those after we've built more of a relationship. Washing hands every time we go to the bathroom or come in from outside? Non-negotiable. (we even bought special soap that reveals a toy the more you use it--score!) Not keeping your mouth closed when you chew? Something we can work on later. You can't teach four years of math in an afternoon. You can't teach four years of manners, habits, and awareness in an afternoon either.
Obviously, some "don'ts" just have to be said in the interests of safety and respect. I tried, with a fair amount of success, to correct with playfulness whenever possible. "Oops, did you forget to ask permission?" is much less threatening to a child with a history of trauma than, "Stop grabbing my stuff!"
The point is, "don'ts" are fine when you have those solid baby years of "do's." But if you are working with a kid who has heard far more, and perhaps far nastier, "don'ts" than "do's," try working your "don'ts" into "do's."
In my head, that paragraph makes sense, which may mean I do need to go to bed. =)
Dr. Karyn Purvis, whose methods I've been following as closely as possible, talks about the importance of building as many yes's into your interactions with kids from hard places. You are building the trust that a new mother would build with an infant over 12-18 months of meeting that infant's needs. I am completely on board with that concept, but it turns out that almost everything a seven-year-old wants to do or have is either off limits or actually dangerous. That kind of goal vs. reality struggle will really stretch your creativity!
I grew up in a house with strict parents and a lot of rules. It was an upbringing that had a lot of positive results, results which I would like to see in every child I know. Basic manners, hygiene, and a sense of responsibility are all important things for parents to teach. What I ran into today was the challenge of teaching these things without lobbing a bunch of "don'ts" at a child with whom I need to build trust. A hundred times today, I would have liked to say "don't leave the light on," "don't dump your things on the floor," "don't talk with your mouth full," "don't run with a stick in your hand," and on and on and on. Instead, I had to find ways to make the same point without the negative verbiage.
What I did that worked (at least for today), was to focus on "do's" instead of on "don'ts." The biggest factor that made this effective was to do all the "do's" together. We brushed teeth together; we made beds together; we picked up toys/clothes/hair accessories together; we carried plates into the kitchen together; etc. etc. Kids from hard places crave connection so much that they will in fact do these things with you (which doesn't necessarily hold true for children without trauma histories). I did it all with a playful tone of voice so that it was more of an activity and less of a chore. Now, I've heard some feedback on this where people say that it takes longer if you do it this way. I would argue that it actually doesn't. True, it takes time you could be spending doing something else. But usually you'd be spending that time asking the child to do or not do something, repeating that request (perhaps several times), and probably then doing or redoing the original thing yourself after all of that. So to me, it is more efficient to do the things with the child and try to make them fun (borrowing a bit of Mary Poppins' magic).
And some things I just let slide, waiting to tackle those after we've built more of a relationship. Washing hands every time we go to the bathroom or come in from outside? Non-negotiable. (we even bought special soap that reveals a toy the more you use it--score!) Not keeping your mouth closed when you chew? Something we can work on later. You can't teach four years of math in an afternoon. You can't teach four years of manners, habits, and awareness in an afternoon either.
Obviously, some "don'ts" just have to be said in the interests of safety and respect. I tried, with a fair amount of success, to correct with playfulness whenever possible. "Oops, did you forget to ask permission?" is much less threatening to a child with a history of trauma than, "Stop grabbing my stuff!"
The point is, "don'ts" are fine when you have those solid baby years of "do's." But if you are working with a kid who has heard far more, and perhaps far nastier, "don'ts" than "do's," try working your "don'ts" into "do's."
In my head, that paragraph makes sense, which may mean I do need to go to bed. =)
February 24, 2012
Am I Ready? Episode Three: Groceries
My house is, for the most part, kid friendly. My kitchen is not. I eat strange things. I go to the grocery store every few days to pick up whatever I fancy. I don't keep a stocked pantry.
I was babysitting a bunch of kids at my house a few months ago, and I had lunch all set for them but assumed they'd be going home for dinner. I got a text from their mother around 5:30 asking if I could feed them dinner. They ate an assortment of granola bars, fruit salad, and old crackers. It's not a kid-ready kitchen.
So today I went to the grocery store to stock up for a week's worth of kid time. I got to use the full-size cart, which was very exciting until about the fourth time I got stuck between two other full-size carts in an aisle. I made a list. A typed list. With foods grouped into store sections. (I felt very fancy checking things off said list as I sailed through the store with my big grown up cart) I could post that list here, but I can't figure out a way to make it look nice, so I won't. I planned out all the menus for the week. And typed it up. And posted it on the inside of the pantry door. Very fancy. I bought organic everything, even down to the super-not-filled-with-chemicals hot dogs and the made-fresh-this-morning tortillas.
And I will never do that again. Turns out organic food is craaaazy expensive. I knew it was more expensive, but when I bought for just me, it really only meant an extra 20 cents per bag of frozen blueberries. Buying organic everything really racked the price up. Plus, I shop every few days, so I spend $30 or so each trip and it seems like not much. Stocking up for a family for a week, with all the chemical/hormone/preservative free foods was a whopping $200. It was a shock.
Granted, there are ways to trim the cost. I bought easy to prepare stuff because I knew I wouldn't have time to really cook this week. And I probably overbought on a bunch of things because I wasn't sure how much would be enough. Plus I was stocking a virtually empty pantry. To do this every week, I'd have to learn to be more savvy and take better advantage of store sales and such.
And there's the other thing. Yes, it was awesome to have all the meals planned and the grocery list printed and practically color coded. But that took me an hour to prep this morning, and another hour and a half to get to the store, get the stuff, and get home again. I'm betting most moms don't have a spare two and a half hours to mess around with columns in Microsoft Word.
Today was a learning experience, definitely. I'm betting the next grocery store trip will be even more enlightening. And to the moms who shop with their kids, I'm impressed.
I was babysitting a bunch of kids at my house a few months ago, and I had lunch all set for them but assumed they'd be going home for dinner. I got a text from their mother around 5:30 asking if I could feed them dinner. They ate an assortment of granola bars, fruit salad, and old crackers. It's not a kid-ready kitchen.
So today I went to the grocery store to stock up for a week's worth of kid time. I got to use the full-size cart, which was very exciting until about the fourth time I got stuck between two other full-size carts in an aisle. I made a list. A typed list. With foods grouped into store sections. (I felt very fancy checking things off said list as I sailed through the store with my big grown up cart) I could post that list here, but I can't figure out a way to make it look nice, so I won't. I planned out all the menus for the week. And typed it up. And posted it on the inside of the pantry door. Very fancy. I bought organic everything, even down to the super-not-filled-with-chemicals hot dogs and the made-fresh-this-morning tortillas.
And I will never do that again. Turns out organic food is craaaazy expensive. I knew it was more expensive, but when I bought for just me, it really only meant an extra 20 cents per bag of frozen blueberries. Buying organic everything really racked the price up. Plus, I shop every few days, so I spend $30 or so each trip and it seems like not much. Stocking up for a family for a week, with all the chemical/hormone/preservative free foods was a whopping $200. It was a shock.
Granted, there are ways to trim the cost. I bought easy to prepare stuff because I knew I wouldn't have time to really cook this week. And I probably overbought on a bunch of things because I wasn't sure how much would be enough. Plus I was stocking a virtually empty pantry. To do this every week, I'd have to learn to be more savvy and take better advantage of store sales and such.
And there's the other thing. Yes, it was awesome to have all the meals planned and the grocery list printed and practically color coded. But that took me an hour to prep this morning, and another hour and a half to get to the store, get the stuff, and get home again. I'm betting most moms don't have a spare two and a half hours to mess around with columns in Microsoft Word.
Today was a learning experience, definitely. I'm betting the next grocery store trip will be even more enlightening. And to the moms who shop with their kids, I'm impressed.
February 23, 2012
Faithfulness
The Lord is so much more faithful to me than I am to Him. It is my greatest sorrow. For He deserves my everything and gets practically nothing. I deserve nothing and get His everything. Praise the Lord, oh my soul.
Your lovingkindness, O LORD, extends to the heavens,
Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the mountains of God;
Your judgments are like a great deep.
O LORD, You preserve man and beast.
How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God!
And the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings.
They drink their fill of the abundance of Your house;
And You give them to drink of the river of Your delights.
For with You is the fountain of life;
In Your light we see light.
O continue Your lovingkindness to those who know You,
And Your righteousness to the upright in heart.
Let not the foot of pride come upon me,
And let not the hand of the wicked drive me away.
~Psalm 36:5-11
Your lovingkindness, O LORD, extends to the heavens,
Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the mountains of God;
Your judgments are like a great deep.
O LORD, You preserve man and beast.
How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God!
And the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Your wings.
They drink their fill of the abundance of Your house;
And You give them to drink of the river of Your delights.
For with You is the fountain of life;
In Your light we see light.
O continue Your lovingkindness to those who know You,
And Your righteousness to the upright in heart.
Let not the foot of pride come upon me,
And let not the hand of the wicked drive me away.
~Psalm 36:5-11
February 22, 2012
If You Only Read One Thing Today
Read this. Never have I agreed so emphatically with anything. It's short. Read it.
February 21, 2012
What I'm Reading
I read. A lot. As in 250-300 books a year. I don't read this much because I'm smarter than you are, or a speed reader, or some kind of pompous snob (at least I hope not!). From my earliest infancy, I spent the half hour before bed reading. Obviously, my mother read to me during those early years. But even long after I could read to myself, my mother read to me each night before bed. Those evenings remain some of my favorite times of childhood. And because of them, the habit was built into my marrow that I can't go to bed without reading first. On top of that, I'm not one of those people who falls asleep when reading (except for a few rather dense textbooks in college and grad school). So I often look up from the page to realize five hours has passed instead of a more reasonable half hour.
I love to read. I choose reading over a social life frequently. I choose it over sleep far too often. I have even chosen it over my job--I took a day off of work when the seventh Harry Potter book came out and delighted in it. I worked in a library for a year, which proved a blessing to my finances but something of a detriment to my studies (fiction, let's face it, is more fun than theological treatises).
So what do I read? Well, some unusual things, I guess. I don't much like American writers. I rarely read anything (for adults) published later than 1939, though I make exceptions for modern works set before 1939. Since I've been in seminary, I've read a lot of juvenile fiction to balance out the rigors of theology textbooks with some imaginative prose. And, of course, I read a lot of books on adoption and foster care.
But what am I reading right now?
Nelson's New Illustrated Bible Commentary. This is for my current (and final!) seminary class: Ruth, Psalms, Jonah, and Selected Epistles (otherwise known as the class for people who didn't take Hebrew 3 or Greek 4).
And I Will Praise Him: A Guide to Worship in the Psalms. Another textbook for my class. My professor is the author, and he's amazing. (I'm reading this on my Kindle, so it's not in the picture)
The Connected Child. I am rereading this, because the Empowered to Connect conference this past weekend reminded me how phenomenal it is.
Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States. I adore Bill Bryson's writing, and this subject matter is the stuff English nerd dreams are made of. If you know me, be prepared to be bored to tears by an endless recital of the fascinating facts this book contains.
A Damsel in Distress. P.G. Wodehouse is one of my favorite authors, and I always turn to his writing (he wrote 93 books!) in times of stress. The world just doesn't seem as daunting when you dream of a village named Market Snodsbury.
So that's a snapshot of the current occupants of my bedside table, purse, computer, and briefcase.
“Children are made readers on the laps of their parents.” - Emilie Buchwald
I love to read. I choose reading over a social life frequently. I choose it over sleep far too often. I have even chosen it over my job--I took a day off of work when the seventh Harry Potter book came out and delighted in it. I worked in a library for a year, which proved a blessing to my finances but something of a detriment to my studies (fiction, let's face it, is more fun than theological treatises).
So what do I read? Well, some unusual things, I guess. I don't much like American writers. I rarely read anything (for adults) published later than 1939, though I make exceptions for modern works set before 1939. Since I've been in seminary, I've read a lot of juvenile fiction to balance out the rigors of theology textbooks with some imaginative prose. And, of course, I read a lot of books on adoption and foster care.
But what am I reading right now?
Nelson's New Illustrated Bible Commentary. This is for my current (and final!) seminary class: Ruth, Psalms, Jonah, and Selected Epistles (otherwise known as the class for people who didn't take Hebrew 3 or Greek 4).
And I Will Praise Him: A Guide to Worship in the Psalms. Another textbook for my class. My professor is the author, and he's amazing. (I'm reading this on my Kindle, so it's not in the picture)
The Connected Child. I am rereading this, because the Empowered to Connect conference this past weekend reminded me how phenomenal it is.
Made in America: An Informal History of the English Language in the United States. I adore Bill Bryson's writing, and this subject matter is the stuff English nerd dreams are made of. If you know me, be prepared to be bored to tears by an endless recital of the fascinating facts this book contains.
A Damsel in Distress. P.G. Wodehouse is one of my favorite authors, and I always turn to his writing (he wrote 93 books!) in times of stress. The world just doesn't seem as daunting when you dream of a village named Market Snodsbury.
So that's a snapshot of the current occupants of my bedside table, purse, computer, and briefcase.
“Children are made readers on the laps of their parents.” - Emilie Buchwald
February 20, 2012
Am I Ready? Episode Two: Kid Supplies
So next week I get to provide respite for a foster kiddo for a week. I am so excited! I was putting together our daily schedule (more on that in a later post) and realized I needed a bunch of supplies. I headed to Target to stock up. I’ll need to go to a teacher supply store, but Target wore me out so I’ll do that another day.
Here’s what I bought:
Art supplies. I don’t have a craft-oriented cell in my body, so I don’t have any art supplies in my house other than a fairly crusty watercolor set left over from my nieces. And while I have zero interest in art projects myself, they are amazing sensory activities. So there’s a slot for art in our daily schedule. I bought a coloring set: crayons, markers, stickers, glitter glue, etc. I also got finger paints, play doh, sidewalk chalk, and model magic.
Active play equipment. Karyn Purvis recommends exercise every two hours. We’ve got walk time built into the daily schedule, and a couple of our outings (again, more on that later) involve exercise. I’ve got a mini trampoline already, and we’ll be having dance time each day. I picked up a cool hoola hoop that lights up—good for exercise and for talking through respecting personal space. I also got a “sit n’ spin” because kids love them. Lastly, I bought a catch game set—it has things you put on your hand that are all Velcro (so the ball sticks). Oh, and I got a board game where you do fun activities.
Kitchen stuff. I’m a single lady with all breakable dishware. Not a good idea with little kids! So I bought an awesome plastic plate/bowl/cup with cute monkeys on them. I also got a kid-sized water bottle (hydration is super important for healthy brain chemistry!). I snagged a cool insulated tote bag for carrying snacks and some freezer packs to cool it. Dr. Purvis recommends feeding the kids every two hours, which means you need to carry your apple slices and trail mix with you wherever you go. And I got lots of sugar free bubble gum. Kids love gum, and the chewing motion helps calm and focus them. Win!
Miscellaneous safety items. I got cute fish-shaped sticker things for the bottom of the bathtub (to prevent slipping). I stocked up on wipes to keep in my purse (kids are dirty). I got an extra night light for the bathroom and a small flashlight she can keep by the bed. I got a baby monitor so that I can hear her if she calls out in the night. And I got some tinkerbell bandaids, because they were super cute and are a great fun way of communicating, “if you are hurt, I will help you.”
I still need to go to the teacher supply store to get a few puppets, but today’s trip filled in some holes.
Here’s what I bought:
Art supplies. I don’t have a craft-oriented cell in my body, so I don’t have any art supplies in my house other than a fairly crusty watercolor set left over from my nieces. And while I have zero interest in art projects myself, they are amazing sensory activities. So there’s a slot for art in our daily schedule. I bought a coloring set: crayons, markers, stickers, glitter glue, etc. I also got finger paints, play doh, sidewalk chalk, and model magic.
Active play equipment. Karyn Purvis recommends exercise every two hours. We’ve got walk time built into the daily schedule, and a couple of our outings (again, more on that later) involve exercise. I’ve got a mini trampoline already, and we’ll be having dance time each day. I picked up a cool hoola hoop that lights up—good for exercise and for talking through respecting personal space. I also got a “sit n’ spin” because kids love them. Lastly, I bought a catch game set—it has things you put on your hand that are all Velcro (so the ball sticks). Oh, and I got a board game where you do fun activities.
Kitchen stuff. I’m a single lady with all breakable dishware. Not a good idea with little kids! So I bought an awesome plastic plate/bowl/cup with cute monkeys on them. I also got a kid-sized water bottle (hydration is super important for healthy brain chemistry!). I snagged a cool insulated tote bag for carrying snacks and some freezer packs to cool it. Dr. Purvis recommends feeding the kids every two hours, which means you need to carry your apple slices and trail mix with you wherever you go. And I got lots of sugar free bubble gum. Kids love gum, and the chewing motion helps calm and focus them. Win!
Miscellaneous safety items. I got cute fish-shaped sticker things for the bottom of the bathtub (to prevent slipping). I stocked up on wipes to keep in my purse (kids are dirty). I got an extra night light for the bathroom and a small flashlight she can keep by the bed. I got a baby monitor so that I can hear her if she calls out in the night. And I got some tinkerbell bandaids, because they were super cute and are a great fun way of communicating, “if you are hurt, I will help you.”
I still need to go to the teacher supply store to get a few puppets, but today’s trip filled in some holes.
February 19, 2012
Brave
Be careful what you wish for, fathers.
I don't know if my father actually ever prayed that I would be more like him, but the wish must have crossed his mind a few thousand times during my childhood. As a kid, I could not have been more different from my dad. It often seemed like we were speaking two different languages, on two different planets. He's a stock broker; I'm an English nerd. When he heard the name, "Fannie," he thought of Fannie Mae. I thought of Jane Austen's Fanny Price. He would play Monopoly to win. I would play Monopoly because I liked to imagine an endless backstory for the top hat and the Scotty dog. He was convinced I could catch a ball if he threw it to me. I was convinced (and was repeatedly proven correct) that such an endeavor would break at least one of my fingers.
Literally, on the Myers-Briggs personality matrix, the two of us are polar opposites: INFJ and ESTP. And for the first several decades of my life, it seemed that the only thing we had in common was our thick, wavy, brown hair (a rarity in my family of towheads).
This past weekend, the two of us (and my mom) attended the Empowered to Connect conference. Having spent a semester studying with Dr. Karyn Purvis, I knew the material backwards and forwards (though it's always good to hear again), but it was all new information for him. The very fact that he agreed to come was a miracle on the scale of mountain-to-mohammed. But I think it was a really uncomfortable couple of days for him.
For one thing, I think he thought he was there to learn how to parent in a completely different way. That would be overwhelming for anyone who has three grown (and rather spectacular) daughters. Especially because Karyn Purvis' approach is often opposite to the way we were raised. I wasn't actually wanting him to learn a new parenting style for himself--I just wanted him to learn the background and theory of why I'd be doing what I will be doing with my kiddos. I really just needed him to know enough so that he wouldn't yell out "why are you letting him get away with that?!" in the middle of a meltdown.
But mostly, I think he was stunned by the stories he heard of just how difficult it is to parent kids from "hard places." He hasn't had a lot of exposure to the stories of how rough life is for these kids, from everything to the impact of prenatal stress on their brain development to the often catastrophic behavioral strategies they have learned to survive. No parent ever wants to hear that his child might be in danger. I'm sure it is incredibly alarming to consider that your child might be in significant danger from the child she's chosen to parent. There were some dark stories told from that stage. And that must have scared him, at least a little bit.
But here's the thing. Yes, we are wildly different people, my dad and me. As I've grown, though, I've recognized a few similarities along the way. We both love parties. We love music. We love going out to restaurants. We love tasting wines and pairing them with foods. We love to take on new challenges. We love to laugh. We love to find a gift for someone that will light up their day. We'd take a mountain over an ocean any day. We thrive on the stress of deadlines and pioneer projects. We are fiercely loyal. We are rabidly protective of those we love, even if it isn't always obvious. And we are brave.
My father is tremendously brave. He is a decorated war veteran. He thrives in an industry that would eat most people alive. He is ever ready to fight for what he believes in.
And despite decades when he seemed as wholly different from me as two separate species would be, he raised a brave daughter. He raised a woman who looks forward to the challenges of what lies ahead-- who knows the future may hold wet beds, massive tantrums, and threats of harm or even death. And who keeps walking forward into that future.
I am not stepping into this journey of foster-adoption to make my father proud. My father is already proud of me, and I thank God daily that He brought us both to a place where he could say it and I could hear it. I step forward in obedience to God, to bring glory to His name, and to overflow the love He pours on me to those who most desperately need it.
But I wouldn't be able to do any of this if I had not been raised by a man who has made me brave. I don't know if he prayed, specifically, that I would be more like him. I wouldn't blame him if he had! But I do know that those prayers, spoken or not, have been answered. I am brave as my father is brave, and as my Father empowers me to be. I step out, into a war zone, passionately fighting for my beliefs, just as he did. And I am unendingly grateful that he is here, walking beside me, even if he doesn't fully understand why we're here or where we're going. I am brave as my father is brave. And may God continue to bless us with the courage and strength we will need for this fight.
I don't know if my father actually ever prayed that I would be more like him, but the wish must have crossed his mind a few thousand times during my childhood. As a kid, I could not have been more different from my dad. It often seemed like we were speaking two different languages, on two different planets. He's a stock broker; I'm an English nerd. When he heard the name, "Fannie," he thought of Fannie Mae. I thought of Jane Austen's Fanny Price. He would play Monopoly to win. I would play Monopoly because I liked to imagine an endless backstory for the top hat and the Scotty dog. He was convinced I could catch a ball if he threw it to me. I was convinced (and was repeatedly proven correct) that such an endeavor would break at least one of my fingers.
Literally, on the Myers-Briggs personality matrix, the two of us are polar opposites: INFJ and ESTP. And for the first several decades of my life, it seemed that the only thing we had in common was our thick, wavy, brown hair (a rarity in my family of towheads).
This past weekend, the two of us (and my mom) attended the Empowered to Connect conference. Having spent a semester studying with Dr. Karyn Purvis, I knew the material backwards and forwards (though it's always good to hear again), but it was all new information for him. The very fact that he agreed to come was a miracle on the scale of mountain-to-mohammed. But I think it was a really uncomfortable couple of days for him.
For one thing, I think he thought he was there to learn how to parent in a completely different way. That would be overwhelming for anyone who has three grown (and rather spectacular) daughters. Especially because Karyn Purvis' approach is often opposite to the way we were raised. I wasn't actually wanting him to learn a new parenting style for himself--I just wanted him to learn the background and theory of why I'd be doing what I will be doing with my kiddos. I really just needed him to know enough so that he wouldn't yell out "why are you letting him get away with that?!" in the middle of a meltdown.
But mostly, I think he was stunned by the stories he heard of just how difficult it is to parent kids from "hard places." He hasn't had a lot of exposure to the stories of how rough life is for these kids, from everything to the impact of prenatal stress on their brain development to the often catastrophic behavioral strategies they have learned to survive. No parent ever wants to hear that his child might be in danger. I'm sure it is incredibly alarming to consider that your child might be in significant danger from the child she's chosen to parent. There were some dark stories told from that stage. And that must have scared him, at least a little bit.
But here's the thing. Yes, we are wildly different people, my dad and me. As I've grown, though, I've recognized a few similarities along the way. We both love parties. We love music. We love going out to restaurants. We love tasting wines and pairing them with foods. We love to take on new challenges. We love to laugh. We love to find a gift for someone that will light up their day. We'd take a mountain over an ocean any day. We thrive on the stress of deadlines and pioneer projects. We are fiercely loyal. We are rabidly protective of those we love, even if it isn't always obvious. And we are brave.
My father is tremendously brave. He is a decorated war veteran. He thrives in an industry that would eat most people alive. He is ever ready to fight for what he believes in.
And despite decades when he seemed as wholly different from me as two separate species would be, he raised a brave daughter. He raised a woman who looks forward to the challenges of what lies ahead-- who knows the future may hold wet beds, massive tantrums, and threats of harm or even death. And who keeps walking forward into that future.
I am not stepping into this journey of foster-adoption to make my father proud. My father is already proud of me, and I thank God daily that He brought us both to a place where he could say it and I could hear it. I step forward in obedience to God, to bring glory to His name, and to overflow the love He pours on me to those who most desperately need it.
But I wouldn't be able to do any of this if I had not been raised by a man who has made me brave. I don't know if he prayed, specifically, that I would be more like him. I wouldn't blame him if he had! But I do know that those prayers, spoken or not, have been answered. I am brave as my father is brave, and as my Father empowers me to be. I step out, into a war zone, passionately fighting for my beliefs, just as he did. And I am unendingly grateful that he is here, walking beside me, even if he doesn't fully understand why we're here or where we're going. I am brave as my father is brave. And may God continue to bless us with the courage and strength we will need for this fight.
Give ear, O my people, to my teaching;
incline your ears to the words of my mouth!
I will open my mouth in a parable;
I will utter dark sayings from of old,
things that we have heard and known,
that our fathers have told us.
We will not hide them from their children,
but tell to the coming generation
the glorious deeds of the Lord, and His might,
and the wonders that He has done.
He established a testimony in Jacob
and appointed a law in Israel,
which he commanded our fathers
to teach to their children,
that the next generation might know them,
the children yet unborn,
and arise and tell them to their children,
so that they should set their hope in God
and not forget the works of God,
but keep his commandments.
~Psalm 78:1-7
incline your ears to the words of my mouth!
I will open my mouth in a parable;
I will utter dark sayings from of old,
things that we have heard and known,
that our fathers have told us.
We will not hide them from their children,
but tell to the coming generation
the glorious deeds of the Lord, and His might,
and the wonders that He has done.
He established a testimony in Jacob
and appointed a law in Israel,
which he commanded our fathers
to teach to their children,
that the next generation might know them,
the children yet unborn,
and arise and tell them to their children,
so that they should set their hope in God
and not forget the works of God,
but keep his commandments.
~Psalm 78:1-7
February 18, 2012
Out of Words
Today I spent 8 hours at an amazing conference, drove 4 hours on I-35 in the rain, and then completed a major assignment for my seminary class.
I'm out of words. My brain is fried. I have a chain of knots in my back that have taken over my entire right shoulder and collarbone and the resulting ache has moved definitively from an occasional pinch of protest to a constant barrage of pain.
I am going to bed. I will tell more about the conference and some cool things in the works tomorrow or Monday.
Love to all!
I'm out of words. My brain is fried. I have a chain of knots in my back that have taken over my entire right shoulder and collarbone and the resulting ache has moved definitively from an occasional pinch of protest to a constant barrage of pain.
I am going to bed. I will tell more about the conference and some cool things in the works tomorrow or Monday.
Love to all!
February 17, 2012
Brain Too Full
I am up in Dallas for the Empowered to Connect conference. And I don't have Internet access (I'm typing this on my phone). So I will fill in at greater length when I get back. But for now, if you ever have a chance to attend this conference, DO!
February 15, 2012
God is So Good
All through December, I really struggled with the whole waiting portion of this adopting-out-of-foster-care business. The injustice (and if I'm honest), the inefficiency of the whole system was just eating me up, every day. And then one day I decided, enough is enough. I'm going to quit whining about this and try to focus on things that are hopeful.
Well here's the crazy thing--it worked. Since I made the decision to stop whinging on about every little delay, waiting hasn't bothered me a bit. Yes, I still ache for the children who believe themselves unloved, unsought, simply because it takes overworked CPS folks a long time to wade through the paperwork. But on a personal level, I have felt an unreal amount of peace since I decided to focus on God's goodness instead of man's inefficiency.
And God has worked miraculously during this time. Things I thought far too audacious to even pray for have become possibilities and realities. I have had time in my schedule to bless other foster families with free babysitting. [And the truth is, I have loved every minute of it--even the poopsplosion, super-exhausting minutes.] I have even experienced tremendous joy in filing, knowing that I'm helping families get a few steps closer to opening their homes to needy children.
I don't know what God has next for me. The number of unknowns in my life right now is perhaps higher than it has ever been. Yet my peace is more complete than it has ever been as well. Yes, I grieve for my children, wherever they are. And I pray for them constantly. But I rejoice in the unfailing goodness of God my Savior; I trust Him with this brief, miniscule life of mine; and I delight in His infinite surprises.
Trust in the LORD and do good;
Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.
Delight yourself in the LORD;
And He will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the LORD,
Trust also in Him, and He will do it.
He will bring forth your righteousness as the light
And your judgment as the noonday.
Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him.
--Psalm 36:3-7
Well here's the crazy thing--it worked. Since I made the decision to stop whinging on about every little delay, waiting hasn't bothered me a bit. Yes, I still ache for the children who believe themselves unloved, unsought, simply because it takes overworked CPS folks a long time to wade through the paperwork. But on a personal level, I have felt an unreal amount of peace since I decided to focus on God's goodness instead of man's inefficiency.
And God has worked miraculously during this time. Things I thought far too audacious to even pray for have become possibilities and realities. I have had time in my schedule to bless other foster families with free babysitting. [And the truth is, I have loved every minute of it--even the poopsplosion, super-exhausting minutes.] I have even experienced tremendous joy in filing, knowing that I'm helping families get a few steps closer to opening their homes to needy children.
I don't know what God has next for me. The number of unknowns in my life right now is perhaps higher than it has ever been. Yet my peace is more complete than it has ever been as well. Yes, I grieve for my children, wherever they are. And I pray for them constantly. But I rejoice in the unfailing goodness of God my Savior; I trust Him with this brief, miniscule life of mine; and I delight in His infinite surprises.
Trust in the LORD and do good;
Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.
Delight yourself in the LORD;
And He will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the LORD,
Trust also in Him, and He will do it.
He will bring forth your righteousness as the light
And your judgment as the noonday.
Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him.
--Psalm 36:3-7
February 14, 2012
Happy Valentine's Day!
Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
One of my favorite professors at DTS, Dr. Mike Lawson, gave one of the best messages on love and relationships that I have ever heard. You can view the message here. In it, he recalled a seminary assignment that asked the students to go home and say this passage from 1 Corinthians to their spouse, substituting their own name for "love." Then the spouse was to evaluate them on how they were doing. I'm guessing that was a fairly uncomfortable conversation.
Spouse or no spouse, I think saying this passage with our own names in place of love is a humbling exercise and a good reminder of the kind of love we are called to live out on this earth. It doesn't require chocolates, roses, or fancy dinners. It requires a whole lot more. It requires dying to selfishness, to pride, to comfort. And it requires this sacrifice all day, every day.
No one loves like this except for God. But our goal should be, with the help of the Spirit, to emulate this kind of love to the best of our ability. Try substituting the word "Christians" for love in the passage. Pretty far off the mark, aren't we?
I pray we all seek more earnestly to live up to this kind of love, the kind that suffers unjustly, forgives unreservedly, and dies unhesitatingly for a world that desperately needs to see True Love.
Spouse or no spouse, I think saying this passage with our own names in place of love is a humbling exercise and a good reminder of the kind of love we are called to live out on this earth. It doesn't require chocolates, roses, or fancy dinners. It requires a whole lot more. It requires dying to selfishness, to pride, to comfort. And it requires this sacrifice all day, every day.
No one loves like this except for God. But our goal should be, with the help of the Spirit, to emulate this kind of love to the best of our ability. Try substituting the word "Christians" for love in the passage. Pretty far off the mark, aren't we?
I pray we all seek more earnestly to live up to this kind of love, the kind that suffers unjustly, forgives unreservedly, and dies unhesitatingly for a world that desperately needs to see True Love.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son,
that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.
John 3:16
that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.
John 3:16
February 13, 2012
Adoption: it's more affordable than you think
I attended the Future and a Hope conference this past Saturday, which was excellent. And for a while, I stood by the Caring Family Network table, helping field questions from people interested in foster care and adopting through the foster system. One of the biggest things that drew people to the table was the realization that adopting from the foster care system is so affordable. Now, I am not ranking types of adoption. All the babies and children, worldwide, who are living without families need mothers and fathers.
But, the average cost of adoption (domestic and international) is $30,000. That's the figure given by Adoptive Families in November of 2009. Adopting from Foster Care is often free. If the child/children meet one of the following criteria, the adoption is completely free, though there may be costs involved in preparing your home for a child. 1. If the child is a minority and over the age of two, or caucasian and over the age of six. 2. If the child is a member of a sibling group (all of whom are being adopted). 3. If the child "has a verifiable physical, mental, or emotional handicapping condition, as established by an appropriately qualified professional through a diagnosis that addresses: (a) what the condition is; and (b) that the condition is indeed handicapping." Apparently this is the toughest to document/prove. You can read more about the qualifications and red tape here. If the child/children meet one of these criteria, then they are eligible for:
--Medicaid coverage until age 18
--Reimbursement for adoption expenses (usually lawyer fees) up to $1500
--Monthly subsidy to help with the child's expenses (similar to the foster parent reimbursement, but lower in monetary value)
--Free in-state tuition at any Texas state college/university/vocational training institution
Over and above that, check out the adoption tax credit information below:
The Facts:
• Since 2003, families who adopted a U.S. child with special needs from foster care could claim a federal adoption tax credit even if they had no adoption expenses (as long as they met the fairly generous income requirements).
• Children who receive adoption assistance/subsidy benefits are considered children with special needs. Even families who receive a deferred subsidy ($0 per month but medical coverage through the subsidy program) are eligible.
• All adoptive families (except those who adopted a step-child) are eligible for the credit, but those who adopt children other than those with special needs must have—and be able to document, if requested by the IRS— qualified adoption expenses.
• For 2010 and 2011 the credit was made refundable. If parents who adopted as long ago as 2005 had credit to carry forward into 2010, that amount of the credit also became refundable. In 2010 and 2011, parents can claim the credit even if they don’t have income or any tax liability.
• The amount of the credit for 2011 is $13,360 per child. The Information:
• IRS Form 8839 Instructions
• IRS Form 8839
• IRS – adoption tax credit FAQ’s
• Voice for Adoption’s distributable postcard
• Tools & Resources from the North American Council on Adoptable Children (NACAC)
But, the average cost of adoption (domestic and international) is $30,000. That's the figure given by Adoptive Families in November of 2009. Adopting from Foster Care is often free. If the child/children meet one of the following criteria, the adoption is completely free, though there may be costs involved in preparing your home for a child. 1. If the child is a minority and over the age of two, or caucasian and over the age of six. 2. If the child is a member of a sibling group (all of whom are being adopted). 3. If the child "has a verifiable physical, mental, or emotional handicapping condition, as established by an appropriately qualified professional through a diagnosis that addresses: (a) what the condition is; and (b) that the condition is indeed handicapping." Apparently this is the toughest to document/prove. You can read more about the qualifications and red tape here. If the child/children meet one of these criteria, then they are eligible for:
--Medicaid coverage until age 18
--Reimbursement for adoption expenses (usually lawyer fees) up to $1500
--Monthly subsidy to help with the child's expenses (similar to the foster parent reimbursement, but lower in monetary value)
--Free in-state tuition at any Texas state college/university/vocational training institution
Over and above that, check out the adoption tax credit information below:
The Facts:
• Since 2003, families who adopted a U.S. child with special needs from foster care could claim a federal adoption tax credit even if they had no adoption expenses (as long as they met the fairly generous income requirements).
• Children who receive adoption assistance/subsidy benefits are considered children with special needs. Even families who receive a deferred subsidy ($0 per month but medical coverage through the subsidy program) are eligible.
• All adoptive families (except those who adopted a step-child) are eligible for the credit, but those who adopt children other than those with special needs must have—and be able to document, if requested by the IRS— qualified adoption expenses.
• For 2010 and 2011 the credit was made refundable. If parents who adopted as long ago as 2005 had credit to carry forward into 2010, that amount of the credit also became refundable. In 2010 and 2011, parents can claim the credit even if they don’t have income or any tax liability.
• The amount of the credit for 2011 is $13,360 per child. The Information:
• IRS Form 8839 Instructions
• IRS Form 8839
• IRS – adoption tax credit FAQ’s
• Voice for Adoption’s distributable postcard
• Tools & Resources from the North American Council on Adoptable Children (NACAC)
February 11, 2012
Are You Ready? Episode One: The Car
When I was a kid, one of my favorite things in the world was going with my dad to get the car washed. It was rare one-on-one time, and to a kid with a lively imagination, a carwash becomes an underwater cave, a burrow under an avalanche, a magical cloud. I still love it—the sounds of the foam and water spraying all around, the silence of being encased in soap bubbles, the delight of driving in filthy and coming out sparkling.
When I got my first car, I was rigid about keeping it clean. No food was allowed inside, ever. One passenger stupidly allowed a few M&Ms to melt on the back seat and heard me rant about it for the next 100 miles (honestly, who keeps loose M&Ms in a backpack pocket?!). The car endured half a dozen cross country trips without anyone ever eating in it, and I even kept a stash of grocery bags to collect trash, thereby keeping the car clean and uncluttered after every outing.
If you’ve ever been inside my current car, you do not believe a word of that paragraph above. But it’s true! I kept my car, if not spotless, then certainly empty and clutter free. And then I got a dog. A dog who left hairs on the seats, nose prints on the windows, and dirt basically everywhere. On one memorable drive, he was in a crate in the backseat and I took a turn a bit too sharply. The crate tipped over, he threw up, and I almost had a heart attack before pulling over and surveying the impressive amount of mess.
Getting a grown up job also had a negative impact on my car’s cleanliness. In grad school, I had a backpack that held everything I needed, and it was easy to shift everything into and out of the car, especially since I only used it a few times a week. Suddenly commuting to a full-time office job every day meant I had a lot more to carry and a lot less energy to carry it (my apartment was three floors up with no elevator). And so, over time, my car became more and more of a catchall and I became less and less bothered by it.
Twice this week I got phone calls which could have meant there would be a kid in my home within 24 hours. One was for a foster placement and one was for respite. Neither went through, but it was a good test for me. As I waited the five to ten minutes between calls from my caseworker, my brain did a rapid readiness inventory. My house is ready. My schedule can be made ready. My kitchen is one grocery store trip away from being ready. There are several nonessential projects I would love to have completed by the time I get a kiddo, but none of them would impact the child at all. But my car? Oh my goodness, not ready!!
So I just spent the past almost two hours cleaning out the inside of my car. Two hours. For just the inside. That should give you a clue to how gross it was in there. I filled a bag of trash and most of a vacuum container. I uttered an astonished “Eww!” about forty times, the loudest when I discovered that the “aged leather” color of the steering wheel was in fact just dirt [shudder]. And, for your entertainment, here are some of the more humorous items unearthed in the great excavation.
Now that the car has been purged of all this (and more!), it is lovely and clean. Next up, I’ll be assembling a kid-oriented car kit. I’ll post the contents when it’s finished. Ideas welcome!
When I got my first car, I was rigid about keeping it clean. No food was allowed inside, ever. One passenger stupidly allowed a few M&Ms to melt on the back seat and heard me rant about it for the next 100 miles (honestly, who keeps loose M&Ms in a backpack pocket?!). The car endured half a dozen cross country trips without anyone ever eating in it, and I even kept a stash of grocery bags to collect trash, thereby keeping the car clean and uncluttered after every outing.
If you’ve ever been inside my current car, you do not believe a word of that paragraph above. But it’s true! I kept my car, if not spotless, then certainly empty and clutter free. And then I got a dog. A dog who left hairs on the seats, nose prints on the windows, and dirt basically everywhere. On one memorable drive, he was in a crate in the backseat and I took a turn a bit too sharply. The crate tipped over, he threw up, and I almost had a heart attack before pulling over and surveying the impressive amount of mess.
Getting a grown up job also had a negative impact on my car’s cleanliness. In grad school, I had a backpack that held everything I needed, and it was easy to shift everything into and out of the car, especially since I only used it a few times a week. Suddenly commuting to a full-time office job every day meant I had a lot more to carry and a lot less energy to carry it (my apartment was three floors up with no elevator). And so, over time, my car became more and more of a catchall and I became less and less bothered by it.
Twice this week I got phone calls which could have meant there would be a kid in my home within 24 hours. One was for a foster placement and one was for respite. Neither went through, but it was a good test for me. As I waited the five to ten minutes between calls from my caseworker, my brain did a rapid readiness inventory. My house is ready. My schedule can be made ready. My kitchen is one grocery store trip away from being ready. There are several nonessential projects I would love to have completed by the time I get a kiddo, but none of them would impact the child at all. But my car? Oh my goodness, not ready!!
So I just spent the past almost two hours cleaning out the inside of my car. Two hours. For just the inside. That should give you a clue to how gross it was in there. I filled a bag of trash and most of a vacuum container. I uttered an astonished “Eww!” about forty times, the loudest when I discovered that the “aged leather” color of the steering wheel was in fact just dirt [shudder]. And, for your entertainment, here are some of the more humorous items unearthed in the great excavation.
Multi-colored paperclips. So many multi-colored paperclips.
One pair of cowboy boots and a pair of high heels. I haven’t worn either since 2007.
One large hiking stick.
Every assignment I ever had in college, separated by year.
Two full sets of children’s blocks.
Three bath towels, one of which isn’t even mine.
Ten books. Ten. Half of them hardbacks.
Three dog toys and two leashes.
One massive automotive emergency kit (thanks to my awesome brother-in-law).
Two winter coats, neither of which I have worn in at least a month.
Two Swiss army knives and two flashlights, only one of which worked.
A one-pound hand weight (thanks Angie!).
Several tubs of makeup powder, complete with brushes. (I don’t actually wear powder)
And a contraption which I discovered, after launching some into the air and inhaling it, contained pepper spray. Ouch.
One pair of cowboy boots and a pair of high heels. I haven’t worn either since 2007.
One large hiking stick.
Every assignment I ever had in college, separated by year.
Two full sets of children’s blocks.
Three bath towels, one of which isn’t even mine.
Ten books. Ten. Half of them hardbacks.
Three dog toys and two leashes.
One massive automotive emergency kit (thanks to my awesome brother-in-law).
Two winter coats, neither of which I have worn in at least a month.
Two Swiss army knives and two flashlights, only one of which worked.
A one-pound hand weight (thanks Angie!).
Several tubs of makeup powder, complete with brushes. (I don’t actually wear powder)
And a contraption which I discovered, after launching some into the air and inhaling it, contained pepper spray. Ouch.
Now that the car has been purged of all this (and more!), it is lovely and clean. Next up, I’ll be assembling a kid-oriented car kit. I’ll post the contents when it’s finished. Ideas welcome!
February 10, 2012
To Ask or Not to Ask
The amazing Kristen Howerton over at www.rageagainsttheminivan.com has a great post today answering the question, "Is it okay to ask if someone's kids are adopted?" She makes a lot of great points, and there are even more handy tips in the comments. There were several factors/perspectives I hadn't considered, and I've read a lot of different blog posts on this issue.
Working in our church's Sunday school program, I am constantly tempted to squeal at a mom and exclaim "I love adoption! Let's get coffee! Read this book! Can I babysit your kids?" Luckily, because I am super shy with strangers, I restrain myself. Kristen gives some great suggestions on ways you can politely connect with folks without risking trauma or embarrassment for their kiddos. A great read, and one to pass along to friends and family members too!
On a related note, who are these people who ask wildly personal questions of strangers? And why does the grocery store seem to be their primary hunting ground?
Working in our church's Sunday school program, I am constantly tempted to squeal at a mom and exclaim "I love adoption! Let's get coffee! Read this book! Can I babysit your kids?" Luckily, because I am super shy with strangers, I restrain myself. Kristen gives some great suggestions on ways you can politely connect with folks without risking trauma or embarrassment for their kiddos. A great read, and one to pass along to friends and family members too!
On a related note, who are these people who ask wildly personal questions of strangers? And why does the grocery store seem to be their primary hunting ground?
February 9, 2012
It's Not Just Us
If I had a million dollars (and a talent for navigating international paperwork), I would move to England, buy a big house, and run an orphanage/boarding school. This is a pipe dream born of too much exposure to Victorian novels, I admit. But unfortunately, the need for excellent foster homes in Britain is rising. In January of 2012, Britain hit an all-time high of 903 kids referred to care (their term for foster care). You can read more about it here.
The theory explaining this increase points to a growing awareness in England of the harm caused by parental neglect. Child welfare agencies are therefore expanding their investigative criteria to include neglect as well as abuse. Dr. Karyn Purvis taught us that the message of abuse is "I don't like you," while the message of neglect is "You don't exist." Surprisingly, neglect tends to be far more destructive to brain chemistry and development than abuse. As one band flippantly puts it, "A kiss with a fist is better than none."
903 is a big number. If they continue through the year at that rate, Britain will have 10,836 new children in care in 2012. The scary thing is, though, that Texas took 17,108 new children into foster care in 2011. And the total number of children in foster care in Texas in 2011 was 31,092. That is five times the number of students who attended my university while I was there. I can't really picture how many kids that is. But I know this--it is 31,092 too many.
To break it down even more, there are about 3,000 kids in foster care in the Austin region. There are almost 500 CPS caseworkers for those 3,000 kids. That seems somewhat manageable--each caseworker has six kids to handle. That would be a lot, but doable. Except for the fact that the Austin region had 20,857 investigations in 2011. And that's not even counting the number of complaints they received that didn't result in investigations. Bottom line? Those folks are overwhelmingly overworked. And therefore kids needing families and families needing kids wait for weeks, months, and even years, staring across a broad ocean of paperwork that just seems to sit on desks and never gets anywhere.
I don't have a solution. I wish I did. All I know is to pray pray pray.
Sing to God, sing in praise of his name,
extol him who rides on the clouds;
rejoice before him—his name is the LORD.
A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
is God in his holy dwelling.
God sets the lonely in families...
--Psalm 68:4-6
The theory explaining this increase points to a growing awareness in England of the harm caused by parental neglect. Child welfare agencies are therefore expanding their investigative criteria to include neglect as well as abuse. Dr. Karyn Purvis taught us that the message of abuse is "I don't like you," while the message of neglect is "You don't exist." Surprisingly, neglect tends to be far more destructive to brain chemistry and development than abuse. As one band flippantly puts it, "A kiss with a fist is better than none."
903 is a big number. If they continue through the year at that rate, Britain will have 10,836 new children in care in 2012. The scary thing is, though, that Texas took 17,108 new children into foster care in 2011. And the total number of children in foster care in Texas in 2011 was 31,092. That is five times the number of students who attended my university while I was there. I can't really picture how many kids that is. But I know this--it is 31,092 too many.
To break it down even more, there are about 3,000 kids in foster care in the Austin region. There are almost 500 CPS caseworkers for those 3,000 kids. That seems somewhat manageable--each caseworker has six kids to handle. That would be a lot, but doable. Except for the fact that the Austin region had 20,857 investigations in 2011. And that's not even counting the number of complaints they received that didn't result in investigations. Bottom line? Those folks are overwhelmingly overworked. And therefore kids needing families and families needing kids wait for weeks, months, and even years, staring across a broad ocean of paperwork that just seems to sit on desks and never gets anywhere.
I don't have a solution. I wish I did. All I know is to pray pray pray.
Sing to God, sing in praise of his name,
extol him who rides on the clouds;
rejoice before him—his name is the LORD.
A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
is God in his holy dwelling.
God sets the lonely in families...
--Psalm 68:4-6
February 7, 2012
Felt Safety, Taught by a Dog
Dr. Karyn Purvis, the pioneer behind Trust Based Relational Intervention, talks a lot about the importance of "felt safety." Children from hard places: trauma, abuse, neglect, have survived because their brains have adapted to highly dangerous situations. That adaptation may have saved their lives, but it makes transitioning to a stable, secure situation difficult. Having once escaped a man-eating tiger, they will be constantly watching for more tigers. And saying to them, "there are no more tigers" doesn't work.
Dr. Purvis, therefore, stresses the need for adoptive and foster parents to build environments and routines that communicate safety in ways children can understand, even when the more advanced sections of the brain (like those that process language) have been shut down by the fight or flight fear response. For example, a child who did not get enough food as an infant will have that primal starvation fear hardwired into her brain. She may become obsessive about food--hoarding, stealing, or overconsuming it. Dr. Purvis advises a daily schedule in which the child is fed every two hours (like a newborn) so that all five senses get the message, six times a day, that she is not starving.
Felt safety is a huge catalyst for intellectual and emotional development. Once the fight or flight sector has been soothed, the more advanced areas of the brain can perk up. Language skills jump, imaginative play emerges, and empathic connections begin to appear. All the things we can do with our brain when we are not running for our lives come back online.
As adults, it is not always possible to communicate felt safety as thoroughly as kids from hard places need. But dogs, good dogs, often can. Here is a great (though long) article about a service dog and an adopted boy. It is worth the read.
It is highly unlikely that you will find a miraculous Lassie who heals your child's heart, grooms its own flowing white coat, and saves Granpa's barn from fire. But a good dog can help your child feel safe. And then you just might experience a few more giggles, a few more uninterrupted nights of sleep, a few more tantrum-free days.
You will also have a lot more mud stains on your carpet, dog hairs in your laundry, and nose prints on your furniture/windows/lap. To my mind, it's worth it.
Dr. Purvis, therefore, stresses the need for adoptive and foster parents to build environments and routines that communicate safety in ways children can understand, even when the more advanced sections of the brain (like those that process language) have been shut down by the fight or flight fear response. For example, a child who did not get enough food as an infant will have that primal starvation fear hardwired into her brain. She may become obsessive about food--hoarding, stealing, or overconsuming it. Dr. Purvis advises a daily schedule in which the child is fed every two hours (like a newborn) so that all five senses get the message, six times a day, that she is not starving.
Felt safety is a huge catalyst for intellectual and emotional development. Once the fight or flight sector has been soothed, the more advanced areas of the brain can perk up. Language skills jump, imaginative play emerges, and empathic connections begin to appear. All the things we can do with our brain when we are not running for our lives come back online.
As adults, it is not always possible to communicate felt safety as thoroughly as kids from hard places need. But dogs, good dogs, often can. Here is a great (though long) article about a service dog and an adopted boy. It is worth the read.
It is highly unlikely that you will find a miraculous Lassie who heals your child's heart, grooms its own flowing white coat, and saves Granpa's barn from fire. But a good dog can help your child feel safe. And then you just might experience a few more giggles, a few more uninterrupted nights of sleep, a few more tantrum-free days.
You will also have a lot more mud stains on your carpet, dog hairs in your laundry, and nose prints on your furniture/windows/lap. To my mind, it's worth it.
February 5, 2012
A Good Thing About the Superbowl
Confession: I haven't watched the Superbowl. I don't even know what two teams played in it. I don't have television; I just have an old TV that will play DVDs and VHS tapes, but nothing else. And I like it that way.
But apparently the rest of the country has been watching this game thingy. And apparently, adoption was highlighted because of a famous coach, Tony Dungey, who is an adoptive father. And that is awesome.
So if, like me, you missed all the hoopla, you can see his video here. Watch and be changed!
But apparently the rest of the country has been watching this game thingy. And apparently, adoption was highlighted because of a famous coach, Tony Dungey, who is an adoptive father. And that is awesome.
So if, like me, you missed all the hoopla, you can see his video here. Watch and be changed!
February 4, 2012
Scripture Saturday: Ephesians 3
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God.
Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.
Ephesians 3:14-21
Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.
Ephesians 3:14-21
February 3, 2012
Climb Every Mountain
These past two weeks, I've been babysitting a lot of different "kids from hard places." (When you babysit for free, your schedule books up pretty quickly!)
At one such babysitting gig this evening, I watched The Sound of Music with the elder of the two girls. I was reminded of what a great movie it is, and not just because I adore Julie Andrews (who happened to pen my favorite children's book). As I watched, I thought: this is the dream. To love and nurture seven motherless children, healing their hearts with lots of fresh air, exercise, and a few music lessons. I can do without the dishy but domineering Captain, and I'd definitely rather not have the invading Nazis, but other than that, it's pretty great.
And I know that the idyllic children/new mommy relationship in The Sound of Music bears little resemblance to reality (even though it's based on a true story). But, as I lulled the younger daughter to sleep with another Julie Andrews song, I smiled as my stubborn brain reiterated, that is the dream.
A dream that will need all the love you can give
every day of your life
for as long as you live!
At one such babysitting gig this evening, I watched The Sound of Music with the elder of the two girls. I was reminded of what a great movie it is, and not just because I adore Julie Andrews (who happened to pen my favorite children's book). As I watched, I thought: this is the dream. To love and nurture seven motherless children, healing their hearts with lots of fresh air, exercise, and a few music lessons. I can do without the dishy but domineering Captain, and I'd definitely rather not have the invading Nazis, but other than that, it's pretty great.
And I know that the idyllic children/new mommy relationship in The Sound of Music bears little resemblance to reality (even though it's based on a true story). But, as I lulled the younger daughter to sleep with another Julie Andrews song, I smiled as my stubborn brain reiterated, that is the dream.
A dream that will need all the love you can give
every day of your life
for as long as you live!
February 1, 2012
Something Funny for February
I don’t know where it started, Twitter or YouTube, but there is a running joke going around the interwebs where the punchline reads (a bad word for) “things” + random people group + say. There are some pretty funny YouTube videos out there, but I won’t post the links because of that bad word for things. =) [And, for the record, I thought the Harvard Sailing Team did a genius bit on this a few years ago.]
Anyway, I had the privilege of getting to know a gal in college who is wicked smart, consistently funny, and a great writer. She is also now a new mom and navigating the choppy waters of living in a different country with a tiny tot. She has many hilarious things to say about that, and you can read more on her blog here. Her post on how IKEA can wreck a marriage (and, I would argue, a thumb, a toolkit, and your sense of self-worth) is particularly guffaw-inducing.
Today she posted a string of things on Twitter with a hashtag I will creatively reword as “things no baby ever says.” Having spent the morning with a room full of 1-2 year olds, this struck me right on the funny bone. So enjoy!
“I'm not going to throw this yogurt on the floor. I may not care for it but there's no reason to be rude.”
“It's freezing outside. I'd be a fool to take these mittens off.“
“Hey Mom . . . sorry, didn't see you were on the phone. I'll wait.“
“There are healthy snacks in the kitchen so I don't need to eat this disgusting thing I just found on the floor.”
“I have plenty of toys. Why would I need your keys/phone/remote control?”
“No thanks, I've had enough cheerios.”
“I respect your privacy. I'll just wait outside the bathroom until you're done.”
“Please! I'm a handful. Take a minute for yourself and I'll just wait quietly ‘til you're ready.”
Courtesy of twitter.com/@corinnepurtill
Anyway, I had the privilege of getting to know a gal in college who is wicked smart, consistently funny, and a great writer. She is also now a new mom and navigating the choppy waters of living in a different country with a tiny tot. She has many hilarious things to say about that, and you can read more on her blog here. Her post on how IKEA can wreck a marriage (and, I would argue, a thumb, a toolkit, and your sense of self-worth) is particularly guffaw-inducing.
Today she posted a string of things on Twitter with a hashtag I will creatively reword as “things no baby ever says.” Having spent the morning with a room full of 1-2 year olds, this struck me right on the funny bone. So enjoy!
“I'm not going to throw this yogurt on the floor. I may not care for it but there's no reason to be rude.”
“It's freezing outside. I'd be a fool to take these mittens off.“
“Hey Mom . . . sorry, didn't see you were on the phone. I'll wait.“
“There are healthy snacks in the kitchen so I don't need to eat this disgusting thing I just found on the floor.”
“I have plenty of toys. Why would I need your keys/phone/remote control?”
“No thanks, I've had enough cheerios.”
“I respect your privacy. I'll just wait outside the bathroom until you're done.”
“Please! I'm a handful. Take a minute for yourself and I'll just wait quietly ‘til you're ready.”
Courtesy of twitter.com/@corinnepurtill
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