PTSD

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

 

     Living with a person who has been diagnosed with PTSD is challenging. Living with a child who has been diagnosed with PTSD is heartbreaking.

  From an academic perspective of learning more about this mental health issue, helping a child through PTSD would probably bring more insight to the issue than perhaps working with an adult. Children are, after all, unfiltered versions of adults. Their reactions and the simplicity with which they are able to express themselves are often highly insightful.  From an emotion-filled and parent perspective, however, it is indescribably difficult. On a daily basis, as a family, we are dealing with a very hurt, very vulnerable and fragile child who became this way not by our doing. He is a helpless victim. He did not ask to be born into his circumstance. It is not his fault that his very sensitive nature has caused him to struggle so much more than his siblings, siblings who experienced the same trauma and witnessed the same events. It is difficult as parents for us to refrain from showing our own emotions (helplessness, sadness, anger—anger at the people who caused him such pain, not anger at him). We are certainly learning a lot—about him and about ourselves, his limits, our limits, his triggers, our own triggers.

   I am actually surprised that more people are not diagnosed with PTSD. As things unfold, and more information surfaces about my child’s history, I cannot help but begin to wonder how I would cope given the same circumstance. The strength that I see everyday as this little guy gets up and moves along in his life is inspiring. He is trying new things, learning about his emotions, and making extraordinary gains. We are not doing anything fantastically special with this boy day in and day out. We are only giving him what our own biological children, and most children take for granted. Love. Compassion. Physical and emotional safety. Routine. Food. Shelter. Security. 

   When we are in the middle of one of his triggered episodes--they happen only every 2 weeks or so now, reduced from the initial daily frequency--I must remind myself of how far he has come. For example, once he is calm, he can now use his words to explain what made ‘the feeling’ come. Months ago, we would have a three hour crying jag that alternated between extreme sadness to extreme anger that brought no understanding to what was the cause and left everyone feeling completely baffled, drained and helpless. We are beginning to be able to predict and prevent triggers. For example, when going somewhere new, we have learned to point out all the exit signs, smoke detectors, fire extinguishers, fire staircases. If it is a seated event (play, hockey game etc) we make sure to be sitting on the aisle in case we need to make a quick departure. We talk through scenarios of what we would do should an earthquake/flood/fire/monsoon/hurricane strike. He has an extreme fear of disasters (natural and man made) and if we discuss how to deal with them (as opposed to minimizing them by saying everything is fine,  or brushing them away by saying these things won’t ever happen, as is our instinct as parents), we allow him to feel somewhat in control of his circumstance. Totally understandable for someone who had terrible things happen to him that were out entirely of his control. There are several ways that we have adapted to help him through his days. We have discovered that anxiety builds when the laundry gets behind, and the fresh clothes are stacked in the laundry room instead of in his drawers.  Totally understandable when you stop to think about it, as we now know that this triggers feelings of the old days when he had no clothes at all to wear. At first, I worked hard to keep his drawers stocked. Now, he helps me put his clothes away and I sense this gives him more of a sense of control over his belongings than if I just did it. I am helping him to own his present.  Another trigger that is unavoidable is the phone ringing. The ringing phone used to cause him to come running from wherever he is to say “It’s the cops. They are coming to take us away.” Now, he will continue to do whatever he is doing, but he will always refer to the police under his breathwhenever the phone rings. That one is getting better but it will resurface if it is a particularly anxious day.

   Learning about PTSD is an ongoing learning process.  For example, if I am going to visit the school for any reason, I am sure to tell him. One time, in the early days, I did not think to tell him. One of his classmates told him that he saw his mom in the hall. This triggered a full blown five hour episode consisting of crying, anger, screaming, sobbing, rocking, destroying things…followed by a repeat of all of the above actions. We finally were able to understand that when his classmate told him this, he had a flashback and thought I was his biological mother and that she was coming to get him. Upon speaking with his teacher, we learned that he was absolutely fine all day at school. This meant that he held it in all day only to release once he was home and felt safe. I get exhausted and emotionally drained just remembering this particular incident and putting myself in his shoes as he made his way through his school day with this in his heart. I cannot imagine living through it as he did.

  We have learned that when an episode is brewing, or has suddenly appeared for a seemingly unknown reason, we must stop what we are doing and deal with it. Difficult to do as it often surfaces at the worst times….trying to get out the door, while dinner is cooking, while another sibling is getting helped with homework, at an amusement park, or a family gathering. I have created my own coping mechanism by likening his triggered events to having a child who is sick, or has a chronic issue. When you think about it, if a child suddenly vomits, we don’t get stressed at the child…we stop what we are doing and deal with it with love, concern, sympathy and compassion. One of my children had a year of having inexplicable seizures. These seizures were always unpredictable and we always stopped what we were doing to deal with it with love, concern, sympathy and compassion. Once I was able to rationalize his bouts of  extremely difficult and sometimes destructive behaviour, that I admit initially struggling with quite a bit, I was in a much better place emotionally to stop what I was doing and deal with it, with love, concern, sympathy and compassion.

    The bright side of all of this is that he is not his history. His history does not own him; he owns his history, just as he owns his present and future. PTSD manifests differently in each person who has it. In our case, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and our son is a reminder of the resiliency of children and the simple power of love, structure and safety.

Winning the Lottery

    I have always told my kids that if I were to win the lottery, the first thing I would do is go back to school. They think I am crazy, of course. Who in their right mind would go BACK to school once they no longer HAVE to?  I did not win the cash lottery, but I am back at school…sort of.
      For me, post secondary education had always been just out of reach. I did not attend university straight out of high school. I did the applications, got the acceptance letters. I even had a dorm room and a roommate assigned to me. However, it was not to be for me, at that time. Although I have some regrets about not getting school out of the way as a young person, I know that things work out as they should. I am well aware that the stars would not have aligned as they did for me had I gone. I wouldn’t have had all of my life experiences that led me to marriage, family and the great life that is mine. So, I went about life, busily raising five boys five and under…and when my youngest child entered grade one, I entered first year university. His first day of big boy school was my first day of grown up school.  I felt very fortunate and life was good. After all, my ‘job’ was to read great literature, discuss it at length, and then write about it.  I felt stimulated and validated. Fast forward a decade or so through various job gains and losses. Our home changed, pets came and went and our boys grew up. Just like they say “The days are long but the years are short”. Again, life moved along, and we found ourselves back raising a brood of young children, this time, they are children who desperately need a full time parent at home each day…someone home to send them off in the morning, and someone home to greet them at the end of each school day, at least for a year or two, maybe more. When we made the decision to adopt four young children, we also made the decision to dedicate one of us (me) to being the rock that they needed to make them feel secure and safe in their new life.  I didn’t win a cash lottery, but I definitely won the life lottery. So, here I am, true to my word, freshly at home with life lottery winnings. What to do, what to do. Go back to school, of course! Online learning. An amazing evolutionary tool. Get a degree from the comfort of your own home. Last time around it was a major in English Lit and a minor in Women’s Studies. Relevant for my life at the time…I loved literature, hence the English major. I grew up surrounded by brothers and I was raising five sons who by golly gum were going to be raised with feminist principles if it was the last thing I did, hence the Women’s Studies focus. My poor boys. They have many a story to share about mom’s highly attuned feminism outlook and the effect it had upon them during their formative years.
     This time around, it will be a diploma in Addiction Studies, possibly followed by a Family Counselling Certificate. Relevant for my life now, as my fostering experiences often cause me to wish I understood more about the primary reasons that children come into care, and I have encountered addiction issues within my own social circle. Looking back upon my childhood, I see things in retrospect that were there and that contributed to my own development and attitudes. I have taken mini ‘addictions 101’ workshops that touch upon the many multi- layered issues surrounding addictions. These workshops have stirred up some uncomfortable feelings about the world around me, past and present, and caused me to examine my own relationship with alcohol. For me, discomfort is often a sign of my needing to learn more so, it seems like a good fit for my current stage of life. Who knows how this lottery will turn out.

 

 

Sunday Dinner

     Sunday dinner at our house begins long before we are all gathered around the scuffed old pine table. Sunday dinner begins with Sunday mornings. Just like Lionel says, ‘Easy like Sunday Morning” I love Sundays. For me, Sundays honour past memories, create the present and form future history.

   Sunday dinner feels like payback for all of life’s hard stuff. It’s when all of my young roosters come home…some with their special people, some on their own. It’s when all the tough stuff that’s happened over the years can be brought out and revisited with laughter, tenderness and even tension. It’s when a young voice (out of the mouths of babes) can pipe up with the questions…. “Did you get a job yet? When are you getting married? Wow, your hair is long/short/pink/ purple/messy/nice. Where’s your girlfriend? Did you hear the latest about Stephen Harper/Rob Ford/Whoever-is-in-the-news? Why are you sad today? Did you kiss yet? When did you get that big dent on your car?” …those questions and situations that everyone may have been avoiding, the questions that create a moment of discomfort, then erase the tension and allow us to heave a sigh of relief and move on to the business of sharing food. Sunday dinner allows for a decompression of the week’s stresses. The starving students get stuffed. The childhood stories get pulled out and new memories get made. Politics abound, kids get root beer and grown ups get wine. And there’s always, always a special dessert or two. All the years of cooking a roast beef when they were young and didn’t notice, have finally resulted in the goal being attained…the ultimate plan…cook a Sunday dinner and they will come. And come they do.

   Although my own mother died before I had children of my own, she is with me every Sunday. She’s with me as I peel the potatoes, as I guide the table setting and teach the fancy napkin folding. She’s with me as I sip wine and cook and as I remember her sipping her ever-present gin and tonic while cooking. She’s there as I listen to Sunday afternoon CBC while remembering her belting out the tunes alongside Frank Sinatra on the oldies station. How she loved Frank Sinatra. The memory of her scrunched up face as she hand whipped the eggs for the lemon meringue pie makes me laugh as I make my own lemon pie (with a mixer). I remember the time that a jokester brother (or maybe it was a friend—there were always extra faces around our Sunday dinner table) swapped the sugar with salt resulting in the worst lemon pie ever. Somehow she didn’t even get angry at the ruined dessert.

   Every Sunday, after the faded, mismatched coffee tables were rubbed with Pledge, fresh towels put out in the bathroom and carpets vacuumed, as the roast roasted, and after the pots and pots of potatoes were peeled, we sat and played gin rummy together. Sunday afternoons as we shuffled the cards were the backdrop for our mother daughter conversations. Under normal circumstances, these conversations would make my normally animated and easy going mother very uncomfortable. But with a drink in one hand, a pair of pairs in the other hand, she could talk. My mother had a way of talking to me and making points with the fewest of words and the subtlest planting of the smallest seed. For example, my mother, acknowledging my adolescence was marked by the simple phrase. “You will be starting your period soon. There are supplies in the back of my closet when you need them”. (Yes, feminine hygiene products were to be kept hidden and out of sight).There. We just successfully navigated the birds and the bees.  I have great admiration for how my mother handled my first serious boyfriend years later, who was clearly a bad boy (every girl needs to have had at least one bad boy in her life). She held her tongue but when the time was right, she got out her garden hoe to sow the seeds. “Do you ever go on dates? Like, to the movies?” We didn’t. “Did you do something nice for your birthday?” We didn’t. Did _______ like your new haircut? He didn’t notice. He didn’t last much longer after I started noticing that he never noticed anything. She said so much without ever saying a word. Admirable trait in a mother. A trait I try hard to emulate, but always forget and end up using too many words.

    Sunday dinners mean a lot to me, and I hope to my kids as well. Sunday dinners are filled with warm memories as I think about my own childhood Sunday dinners, as I watch my older children reminisce about their childhood antics while the younger ones listen with wide eyes and baited breath.  I am filled with pride as I look around the table at the amazing assortment of children and young adults who come together each week because they want to, not because they have to. They arrive and they bring the important people in their lives to join into our family, and slowly, my memories get tangled up alongside theirs.

    

Adoption Video Short

Here is a little video that I created for our far away family who haven't yet met our new additions.  Please excuse the amateur quality.

Playing with a Bully

Playing with a Bully Pillow time is a longed for period of time on any given day. However, there are two drawbacks to pillow time for me. The first is that I almost fear going to bed because I love it so much, but it inevitably means that I will have to get up in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, I love my life and my busy days….yet I am not and have never been a morning person. I am married to a leap-out-of-bed-no-snooze-button-required kind of guy. I set my alarm for 30 minutes earlier than necessary just so I can hit the snooze button several times. It is safe to say that I am not at my sunny best first thing in the morning. Before getting out of bed each morning I find my inner voice negotiating many things…such as, What is worse…getting the dogs outside now before they pee, or having the extra time in bed but having to clean up the pee. I will then feel badly all day (and give even more fuel to the bedtime bully who you will soon meet—read below) for denying the dog’s dignity for my own selfish reasons. Or, I know I swore I would wash my hair today, but hey, I have a hat that I could keep on all day. These are my silly, humorous, lazy- ass reasons for not liking bedtime. The second reason that I dread bedtime is somewhat darker. Bedtime has become the time of day for me when ‘Critical Mom’ has been rearing her ugly head. Critical Mom has darkness to her…a darkness that she brings to my heart while whispering ‘anxiety disorder’ in my ear. She erodes my confidence and self-worth. She is not always anxiety-provoking; the odd time she’ll boost me up, makes me feel like supermom and a role model to all. When that happens, bedtime is bliss, life is sweet and I feel in control of my life. Most times, Critical Mom is the mom in me who comes out and wants to play almost every night. She is not a nice friend. As I lay with my head on the pillow, her presence seeps out. She often tries to come out earlier; I can often feel her knocking at my mind’s door… when I am brushing my teeth, washing my face, putting the last load of laundry into the wash. I can often push her away if she arrives before bedtime. It is when I am in bed that I am trapped. Out she comes, knocking on all my doors and windows, begging us all to come out and play. “C’mon, Guilty Mom,” she calls, “You were active today. Let’s play! Oh, you know you want to join in, Tired Mom. Don’t even bother calling on Happy Mom, Doting Mom, Patient Mom, Awesome Mom or Crafty Mom today, they are no fun. They will put Anxious Mom right to sleep with their soothing, ego-building antics and we won’t see any of the fun moms for awhile! We want to play for a long time tonight, so let’s go get Short-Tempered Mom and Busy Mom to come out. I heard that Frozen-Pizza-for-Dinner Mom and Skip Bath Tonight Mom are up for some fun too. Did you meet Secret-Chocolate-Eating-Mom and Wine-on-a-Tuesday Mom? They are sure to induce guilt and feelings of self-loathing. That’ll keep her in the game, wide awake with heart palpitations into the wee hours!” I have a love/hate relationship with Critique Mom. I truly do. I hate her because she causes my heart to skip a beat, my blood pressure to rise and my much loved sleep to remain elusive. She causes me to examine all of my actions and reactions. She makes me go outside of myself and analyze one of my greatest sources of pride…my abilities as a mother. She brings me down and makes me angry at myself. Many of these ‘hate’ reasons are also my love reasons. Without Critique Mom, I wouldn’t strive to do better the next day. I wouldn’t walk a mile in my children’s shoes. I wouldn’t revisit my sometimes sharp tone through sensitive little ears. I wouldn’t proactively come up with strategies to make myself feel better, so I can be better. She is both the monkey on my back and the cheerleader in my court. Critique Mom often gets the best of me, despite my best intentions. She can be easily foiled and put away simply by my being a perfect, awesome, smiley and loving mother in every circumstance, at every moment. Of course, that is not realistic, or even human. I know this on a rational level. Heck, I even know that most of the time, I’m a damn good parent, despite my flaws. What I need to learn is a way to manipulate Critique Mom. I need to pull her out on my own terms to keep myself in line. I also need to dance with her when I deserve to be happy and positive, and tell her to *&$% off when I’ve had a bad day. It’s all about control....the control she has over me, and my control over her. She can be a bully, but as they say, keep your enemies close. For now, she continues to take up space in my mind rent-free. I am working hard on controlling her, but at this point, she seems to have the upper hand, both in my mind and on my pillow.

Our Kind of Crazy

Parenting…Second Time Around I live in a strange world. It is a world of dichotomies. My world involves Tosh.0 on one television set, while Phineas and Ferb are up to their crazy adventures on another. My home is a land of juice boxes on the front porch and red beer pong cups on the back porch. The flowerbeds host stained popsicle sticks alongside a soggy cigarette butt (that I know doesn’t belong to me, my husband or the mailman).My driveway lays waste to pink bicycles with training wheels lined up beside assorted cool cars and rusty trucks being worked on by young mechanics. We have teen foragers in the kitchen crunching cereal at 3 am, with cereal again at 7 am for the school aged bunch. Together with my husband Chris, we have embarked on what we like to call Parenting…Second Time Around. (Insert dark music here) Our children’s ages are as follows: 8, 9, 10, 12,18,19,19, 23, and 24. The twenty four year old does not live at home, so at the moment we only have eight children. (Only?) For a period of time there were only seven, but one boomeranged back home after a summer of adventures (we’d rather not talk about it). Five of our children are biological, and four of our children are adopted. I don’t think I mentioned that we are also foster parents, and we have recently begun fostering babies aged zero to two. I know what you are thinking…but, like our son’s summer of (mis) adventures, we are not going to go there either. Living this kind of crazy has its upsides. For instance, a discussion between us and he-who-shall-not-be-named over the use of a car (we said no), normally may have been filled with angry tones, a possible expletive concluded with a slammed door or a dramatic exit. Instead, the denied car-borrower walked into the next room, where a loving seven year old sister approached him, said hi and hugged him. The tension immediately disappeared, followed by a hug back and a sigh. Situation-diverted. Another upside? Where else would you find a nineteen year old sitting in the living room, somehow finding himself watching a Barbie movie, and yelling into the kitchen, “Should they be watching this? It seems inappropriate.” A future concerned dad is born. Parenting second time around must involve patience, energy and humour. In many ways it is easier…we are more experienced and laid back. We’ve navigated many a parent/teacher interview and know our way around every childhood illness possible. In other ways, it can be challenging…we have to work hard to avoid the ‘been there, done that’ mindset. Yes, we’ve already had the puppies, kittens, pet birds, hamsters, guinea pigs, turtles and lizards. But they haven’t. Yes, we’ve been to the ocean, amusement park and road trips across Canada. But they haven’t. We are discovering that doing the same activities through a different lens keeps us young, although we have definitely earned our pillows at the end of a day. Parenting second time around is not for the weak-of-heart, but I highly recommend it. I get to hang out with cool young parents. It gives me an excuse to keep coaching, help in classrooms and Brownie lead. It forces me to get out of the house when I normally might have stayed in to watch another rerun of Modern Family with glass of wine in hand. Parenting second time around ensures that I at least feel that I've earned that post homework/bath/story/bedtime glass of wine followed by my desperately needed pillow time.

Child File / Recipe File

We have all received that phone call whereby a child has been described to us over the phone. We know that the person on the other end has likely never met the child, and that they are reading from a file. Imagine if you are holding that file, having never met the child and trying to imagine who he/she truly is. Imagine you are holding a recipe file for a loaf of bread, having never seen a loaf of bread before, and trying to imagine what a loaf of bread truly is. We know a loaf of bread is the sum of flour, yeast, eggs, sugar. The order of mixing the ingredients and the quality of the ingredients used (nature) are important. The utensils used, what type of oven it is cooked in and the very person mixing the dough (nurture) also have a great impact on the final result. If we have never laid eyes on a loaf of bread before, or felt it, smelled it, tasted it, we will still have no idea what bread will be from reading the recipe. We know a child is the sum of personality, strengths, weaknesses (nature). The environment, past experiences and an uncertain future are all mixed in as well (nurture). If we have never laid eyes on this child, met their eyes, taken in their ‘self”, experienced their strengths and weaknesses, felt their pain, their sadness, their anger, we will have no idea who this child is from reading the file. When we have made the decision to head to the kitchen to bake a loaf of bread (no bread machine here!) we find the one-dimensional recipe and jump in. We know making bread can be a multi-step; complicated undertaking that may or may not work out. Yet we’ve decided to give it a go and try our best. We are not afraid of that ingredient we have never seen before. If it works out, that is great, we’ve learned something about ourselves, and if things do not work out, we might go back and re-think a step or change our method. The same can be said for fostering. We’ve made the decision to do it, and when we are given the one-dimensional file, we jump in. There are no guarantees with anything, and that one-dimensional file does not give us the true essence of who will arrive in front of us. I think if I was given myself a file about me, I might not want to take myself on. Who in their right mind would voluntarily take on a person like me who has been known to be sad sometimes (depressed?), and angry (hostile?) at other times? I am someone who will admit to hoarding chocolate and Oreo cookies from others and privately indulging. I am a person who can be lazy at times, (lethargic?) and crazy-busy (hyperactive?) at other times. I have been known to avoid all exterior interactions when engrossed in a good book (anti-social?) These are labels that could be recorded in my file. However, I am told that I can also be fiercely loyal, loving, generous and kind. I like to think of myself as a generally good person. These last attributes would only become known once you get to know me and once I am in your life. You’ve made the decision to try to bake bread, so get in the kitchen and give it your best effort. Try not to be intimidated by the bread recipe file or the CAS child file. Try not to imagine the finished product until it is in front of you. Look past the ingredients and look at the potential before dismissing the file as too challenging or too intimidating. You really will not know until you’ve looked past the file to the child in front of you.

Seeing Patterns

Jack Tobin's situation is a tragedy. His best friend Alex Zolpis is gone forever and in the world’s eyes, he is to blame. We all know it could happen to any family at any time. Jack Tobin's troubles clearly began days after first receiving his learner's driver's permit, around the age of sixteen. It is at that stage during adolescence that behaviours must be analyzed. If an adolescent has displayed a large number of repeat infractions, one can assume that there were other worrisome behaviours surfacing as well. It is so much easier to chalk up teen (mis)behaviours to 'boys being boys' or 'teens being teens'. Clearly with this many infractions of the same nature peppered throughout one’s life, mistakes were not being learned from. It is up to the adult involved to look hard at this pattern and make the decision to intervene. Is there an underlying mental health issue? Severe ADHD? Impulsivity? Mood Disorder? Should a third party be called in? Does this teen require constant supervision, if only to save them from themselves? Does the parent need to take time off from work to get to the bottom of things, even if it causes professional and financial hardship? Is the school atmosphere contributing to the behaviour? The friends? The adults involved must ask themselves “Why is he/she repeating the pattern over and over again? Why is this child not connecting the dots and learning from the past? What can I do to intervene and remove my child from the current environment that may be contributing to the behaviours? Do I need to remove them from school, keep them home and show them how serious things are?” Sadly, as parents, we are so busy trying to get by, and often feel that once our child is into adolescence, they are on their way to adulthood and we can back off and relax a bit. I would argue that the opposite is true, and if a teen is showing any signs of troubling behaviour, that is an indicator for the family to stop dead in its tracks, evaluate all circumstances and take whatever measures necessary to get that teen back on track. We only have one chance to get them through these tumultuous years, and in order to keep them and others around them safe, it is up to us to step in early on, and take drastic measures if needed. There are many lessons to be learned from this situation, and one lesson should be for all adults to aggressively insert themselves into a teen’s life and halt troubling behaviour before it becomes a pattern. Patterns are very hard to break once established, and once that teenager is out on their own, all bets are off.

Fostering Siblings

Sibling Visits

When foster parents receive new placements, they are given a brief history of the circumstances that brought them into care, if available. Troubling and unhealthy family relationships are the norm. Sibling relationships are usually intense and emotional. Biological parents are often angry, resentful and highly negative and critical of foster parents. Foster parents are protective by nature, so the idea of encouraging and nurturing relationships with the very people that contributed to them being placed in care can be a very difficult part of the job. However, if the foster parent wants to build trust and develop a relationship with their foster child, they must always be positive and warm toward the biological family. Not to mention it is the mandate of all children’s aid societies to provide every opportunity for families to remain connected, if there is no risk to safety.
Sibling visits are often up to the foster parents to organize. Once the green light has been given for sibling visits, the planning begins. Usually it is planned and organized between foster parents (if the siblings are all in care and are split up), or they are planned between foster parent and biological child, particularly if they are older.
It is very easy and very tempting to make excuses for these visits to not happen. ‘We are too busy’. ‘I am afraid it will keep the child attached to their sister/brother and will not attach to us.’ ‘I am worried it will bring up painful memories.’ ‘That brother / sister is a bad influence.’ ‘I am nervous about what they will say about me as a foster parent.’ ‘I don’t like the look of that smoking brother/sister who is full of piercings and tattoos.’ It is easy because the agency is depending on you to make sure these visits happen, yet often do not follow up because they trust that the foster parent will keep their end of the expectation. It is tempting because none of us want to step outside our comfort zone if we don’t have to, and these visits can be nerve-wracking and stressful.
It is imperative that the foster parent not only make visits happen, they make them happen with regularity, with confidence. They must make each visit special, and they must make sure that photos happen. Foster parents need to ensure that their foster child comes away with the feeling that their sibling is special, likeable and important. The foster parent should adopt the: “If they are important to you, they are important to me” attitude with their foster son or daughter. If the foster parent is able to do this, it will help the relationship and will enhance attachment, not hinder it. The child will feel accepted and special, and will relax.
Memories are memories. Families are families. Bonds are bonds. Their grandma opening KFC boxes with a cigarette dangling out of the side of her mouth generates the exact same amount of love and comfort as reminiscing about your own grandma stirring gravy and baking a pie. This is not stereotyping, I witnessed the KFC story being shared between two biological sisters in care, and my own grandmother stirred gravy and baked pies. I witnessed the glistening eyes and the love in their voices and I identified with their memories. These siblings are already judged by the rest of society for being in foster care. They do not need to be judged for their warm, loving and precious memories.

Fostering in Ottawa

See the link below for an article that describes some fostering experiences:

http://www.myvirtualpaper.com/doc/coylepublishing/oflsummer2011_v3/2011051301/#8

Fostering Adolescents

Fostering Pre Teens and Teens

“We have a 14 year old boy. He has been in 5 homes in 4 years.” “There is a 13 year old girl. She just wants to belong but doesn’t know how to show it.” “We have 12 year old twins, a boy and a girl.”

These sentences, usually stated over the phone, often in the middle of a busy day, may strike fear and uncertainty in the hearts of many. When I get this call, a feeling that is a mixture of protectiveness and empathy instantly wells up. I immediately start mentally rearranging the house and bedrooms to accommodate our new arrival. I imagine what they look like and wonder when their birthday is. I ask about food preferences, school, clothing situations and bio family interactions. Once we have decided to accept our new placement, the work begins. Grocery shopping to ensure we have familiar foods. Rearranging furniture. Prepping our kids. Waiting for the worker and child to arrive. Introductions. Appearing cool and collected when we feel anything but.

There are basic strategies that we have found that seem to work with most teens. Adolescents tend to respond very well to:

Fairness: All kids (but especially teens) have a keen sense of justice. They are extremely sensitive and are hyper-aware when they feel that they are being treated unfairly. It can be as simple as ensuring (to the inch) that a piece of pizza is the same size as the others, or as complex as being aware of their perception of your tone of voice and body language. Teens NEED to feel they are getting a fair shake and they need to feel that they are valued in the same way as everyone else in the house, from the moment they step foot in the door.

Tolerance: If four letter words and tales of graphic experiences make you uncomfortable, then fostering teens is not for you. Youth need to feel they can express themselves and need to feel they are good people, no matter what their past experiences have been. You need to be prepared to hear about hair-raising events , frightening experiences, and stomach turning parenting practices (often while driving or cooking or reading) AND, you need to hear it and stay calm and cool while listening. While listening, you will also need to think ahead to your careful and appropriate responses to ensure it happens again, as this is a wonderful and positive thing! Teens will often listen to you only after you have demonstrated that you can listen to them. Also, try hard (even if it is painful) to listen to their music while driving. Listen to the lyrics together. Get to the meaning. This is a good way to start discussions while driving. Don’t forget to call or email your worker and your child’s worker with any disclosure of any kind.

Honesty: By the time a teen in care reaches your home, they are knowledgeable, sceptical, cynical and guarded. They deserve the truth, and can detect a cover up a mile away. You owe it to the youth to be honest to the best of your ability and within Society guidelines. Not only do you owe it to your adolescent, you really owe it to yourself as a person trying to establish a positive relationship. If you lie or cover up, and the teen discovers it, they will probably never trust you again. They have been lied to and let down much of their lives, and you will now be just another person to add to that list. Your goal is to become the person they can always count on for the truth, and that you are reliable. Never, ever lie, and if you are ever unsure about what to say, then refer the teen to their worker or tell the teen that you will check with the worker and get back to them. You can never undo a lie and the damage will be irreparable. They will not forget it.

Parenting: No matter how much they resist, teens in care are fundamentally no different than any other child. They think they are tough, cool and they think they know more than everyone (especially you, the parent figure). Just remember, they want to be parented, and they are really just overgrown children. They feel valued when there are limits. They enjoy a good fight, but are secretly glad that you care enough to make the effort to argue. They need you at their school, advocating for them. They want someone to make their lunches. They need to be reminded to brush their teeth. They need limits and fair consequences. They need you to be involved and know who their friends (and their friend’s parents) are. Persevere. Don’t give up. They also like treats and rewards and spontaneous moments of silliness and fun.

Don’t be afraid of teens. They can be our most difficult placements, but they can also be the most rewarding. They will remember everything you say to them. You can and you will make a real difference in their life path, but only if you are confident in your heart that you really want to.

A Gradual Path, a Sudden Turn.

As with everything in life, one's activities, goals and priorities must be pulled out, examined, re-ordered and re-prioritized from time to time. Being a parent and foster parent requires an ongoing revisiting of strategies, routines and focuses. When it seems as though suddenly everything is in turmoil, it may actually be that conflict and stress have been building slowly and silently, coming to the surface, seemingly as the result of a particular incident. Our most recent need for re visitation of our life goals, routines and priorities came as a result of several mitigating factors converging at once and causing a brief moment of havoc in our lives. However, as experienced parents, responsible adults and flexible work situations, we are now sitting at the other side waiting to see if our changes will result in calm waters, if only for a little while. I believe our need for a drastic change came about as combining result of:

• a foster child arriving


• another foster child leaving


• a job loss


• 2 foster children arriving in sudden flurry


• a job gain


• troubling teen behaviour


• a significant job reduction

All of these factors built up, converged and caused a sudden need for drastic re-prioritizing.

When a foster child arrives, there is a readjustment period. Even if the child is a positive addition to the family, it is always stressful for all involved to adjust to new routines, new rules (in this case the child was much younger which required a change in TV programming, video game censoring, dinner table discussions, evening routines).

Soon after, another boy left to go home quite suddenly, and not necessarily to an emotionally healthy environment. This created a sense of loss and worry for all.

Then came a surprise job loss 2 weeks before Christmas for the father of the family, which created a new dynamic with him now at home all day. Enter in 2 foster children arriving in a flurry, add in a job gain, and through all of this, one teen in the family was quietly going about unproductive and self damaging behaviour, which required a sudden halt to everything and a readjustment to home priorities. It seemed like it all happened at once, but looking back, one can track the gradual path that was being trampled down, like the subtle path down our front yard where the kids cut through the hedges to walk to their bus stop.

Where we are sitting now is the father is back at work, but the mother has almost completely cut back hours to be in the home much more. This has caused a loss of income but a gain in psychological comfort. We rationalized that we made a conscious decision when we had children that I would stay at home and raise them until the youngest was in school full time. I would now argue it is equally important to remain physically and emotionally available when kids are navigating through the tumultuous teen years and all of the choices to be made there. Parental supervision is only one of many duties during these years. In fact, for us, we are now actually back to where we were at the beginning of our child rearing years, when ironically I always envisioned the teen years to be the end of the child rearing years. I feel I am actually needing to step up my parental involvement rather than wind it down!

The decision that we made as a couple for me to leave work and stay home this time around has come with mixed feelings. I am feeling the loss of my identity, my personal and professional satisfaction and (let's face it) my pride in myself of being someone who could always hold it all together, despite what was being tossed at me. That said, I am also feeling the strength of having made that decision to put my kids first and sleeping at night knowing in my heart it is the right thing to do for our family at this time. Maybe this is what separates some from others. Upon reflection, perhaps this is why our family is able to care for other family's children ;the fact that as parents, we are able to put our children's current needs (and other's children's current needs) above our own? That is a thought for another time.

For now, we are navigating new waters with a new family dynamic, a renewed hope that things will get better, and a view to being ready for whatever is coming along at the next fork. Whatever comes at us next, I am sure we will not feel prepared, we will stumble and question ourselves as parents and we will need to reorganize our life around it again, and will settle back in to whatever that new reality brings. One day at a time.

Being the Foster Brother

After looking around the internet and googling stuff like ‘being a foster sibling’ or ‘effects on bio kids when fostering’, I discovered that there are not many descriptions of what it is like when your parents decide that becoming a foster parent will be good for the family. Don’t get me wrong, being a foster brother has a lot of perks, but there’s also a lot of stuff that people seem to forget about. When I say people, I mean my parents, my friends, and the actual foster kid.
When a new kid comes into your house, it is very weird at first. Basically a stranger is coming to live with you and you are supposed to treat them like your own brother or sister.
Lots of times the kids are fine with us but act bad to our parents, especially when they’re teenagers. So we are supposed to be friends with them while they are badmouthing our parents and Children’s Aid. They don’t seem to want to get that we are helping them and we are not the reason why they are not with their own families. They act like we are treated better by our own parents when really it seems to us that they are treated better because they never get in the same trouble we would if we acted the way they did. They usually love to tell us the stories of all the bad stuff that’s happened to them too, which can be freaky and we have to pretend it’s not a big deal when inside we can’t believe how bad it is the stuff they are telling us.
Foster kids are usually fine at first, but then after about a month interesting things start to happen that can be annoying. Things like our stuff can go missing and turn up in their room. Things like all the good food getting eaten and the wrappers are in their room or all over the house. Things like them trying to take our friends away or telling stories about our family at school (if they go to our school). Things like them arguing and swearing at our parents and stressing out our parents which makes them cranky to us sometimes. One kid called my mom a bitch and told her to fuck off. I don’t even know what would happen to me if I ever did that. I don’t want to know. Another kid punched a hole in our living room wall. Our parents tell us this is because they may have never had these kinds of things and don’t know how to go about getting them the right way. We learn that apparently every behaviour has a reason, but it’s still annoying when it’s happening.
Some of the perks are you get to go shopping for clothes with them and see how glad they are to get cool stuff that I never even really thought about. But even that is weird. They are sort of glad but they also have this thing where if they don't get everything they want or if they can's have the most expensive name brand they get mad. It's like they're glad to get stuff, but mad that they can't have everything. They love our food and getting signed up for sports and stuff with us. It can be cool because teachers and other parents think you are a good person for doing it and sometimes it seems they treat us nicer. You learn a lot about the ways other people live and feel lucky to have the life you have. When they go away for visits or camp, it’s really nice when we are all together with our own family, so we appreciate our own family time. You get to see them change. There’s something that changes in them and it’s hard to describe. It’s like they become nicer when they get used to how stuff is at our house.
People think it’s really hard on us when they leave, but it’s not really. Maybe kids are different than adults, but when they leave we say goodbye and keep in touch on Facebook and stuff. Then before long we get another call and our parents ask us if we are ready for another kid. We find out their age, their family story a bit, and they ask us to think about it. Even though it feels like it is already decided, it’s interesting to think about them and to meet them and start over again. We always know if things don’t work out, our parents will always do what’s best for everyone. If the kid or us are just not happy and it’s not working, they’ll change stuff so none of us are unhappy at home. Maybe that’s part of why it’s not so bad.

Two Sides to the Coin

There are many postings out there from individuals who feel they have been wronged or mistreated by a Children's Aid Society. I am sure they have their reasons for feeling this way, but I wonder if they stop for a moment to think of the go-between, also known as foster parents. Foster parents are the link in between the Children's Aid and the parent who has had their child apprehended. Not all children are apprehended against the parent's will, but most are. Other reasons could be the parent reaching out for and getting help, it could be temporary until the parent is back on their feet. It could be as a result of the death of parents. However, the majority of children in care are in care against the parent's wishes.
The foster parent is right in the middle, and plays a vital role in the conflict; they are caring for the child in question.
There are many rewards that come with being a foster parent, and there are many challenges.
Children often come into care with minimal clothing. they are often underfed, or have been fed a very unhealthy diet. They have not experienced routine, structure and consistency. They often lack social skills and manners. They are usually angry with CAS, their parents, their teachers, the world, and you. They may be separated from their siblings. They are feeling loss, and will grieve, much as one would with the death of a loved one. As a foster parent, you may not know if/when this child has ever been to the dentist or doctor. It is your job to get that in order right away. You do not know their developmental history, or their prenatal history. There are often problems at school, and usually they are behind academically.They often want nothing to do with you, and will fight attachment tooth and nail. Who can blame them? Who wants to attach to people that they will be leaving soon? They go to visits with their parents, and instantly regress back into the behaviours you have worked so hard to overcome. The parents enjoy a sugary filled visit that is full of fun, then they come home to you more angry and missing their parents. No matter how much progress a foster parent makes, how much love, the pull toward the biological family is usually stronger, even if the child was neglected or abused. You have to become the bad guy again as you start all over with the routines and rules.
The rewards, however, are there. As with most things, the dramatic, negative side of things is the side that gets the most attention. Whoever hears of easy births? It is the long, drawn out tortuous birthing sessions that garner attention. The rewards are very subtle, often abstract, and one must watch carefully. Lying in bed at night, knowing there is a safe, clean, well fed child sleeping nearby, and they are all of those things because of you. That is a reward. A child saying: 'But if you work late tonight, who will read with me?"..Reward..A child openly and with gusto enjoying your food. Reward. A child donning a soccer uniform for the first time ever, and the pride in their eyes as they run their hands along the silky fabric. Combing freshly shampooed hair. Being the one to be able to demonstrate that home means warmth and safety, not fear and conflict. You get the glory job of being a warm and heated blanket to a child who is cold and shivering on the inside. Knowing that many of these things are first time experiences for these children. The rewards are there, but they are not often measured in an empirical way, the way we can measure and list the challenges.

Interesting article and link:

Here is a link to a good foster mom story.
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/facts-and-arguments/my-life-as-a-foster-mom/article1748325/?service=email&utm_source=Shared+Article+Sent+to+User&utm_medium=E-mail%3A+Newsletters+%2F+E-Blasts+%2F+etc.&utm_content=1748325&utm_campaign=Shared+Web+Article+Links.

Coming Together

I read my horoscope yesterday and it said "You have what it takes to finally do what you have been wanting to do for so long. You have the discipline to make it work". It was a timely message, as I am on the cusp of publicly speaking for the first time on a topic that is near and dear. Talking to parents about computers, video games and cell phones, ipods, mp3 players and hand help video games. I want to tell parents that they are ruining their kids by allowing them to engage in these activities while ignoring the real people around them and not learning any social skills! I am not an electronic prude. Our kids have always had the latest and greatest video systems, but we have always had limits. The stories I hear every day at work by parents are appalling! Things like: "I can't get them to do homework because they are on the computer" When I suggest unplugging the computer, they look at me with a horrified expression and say they could never do that because then their child would be mad at them!Well, this workshop is the first in what I expect to be a series.

Also trying to get the word out about local Children's Aid Societies. October is child abuse prevention month.

Also want to share feelings about having foster children leave at holidays and come back after. How hard it is to parent with structure and go through hard times, yet not be able to enjoy the fun family times. I think I need a few blogs! Will try to stay organized and on task.

My goal is to use the blog as a journal to record my thoughts. Fairly certain it won't get followed, which is why I feel able to speak candidly. So, to recap: Parenting Workshop, foster children away, strong parenting and tough times.

By the way, how is all of this foster parenting affecting the biological kids? Yet another topic to explore!

Reinstating my blog.

I have decided to reinstate my blogsite. The world of parenting and fostering is not without it's challenges. I removed my blog because individuals with negative experiences with various Children's Aids Societies began commenting on my posts. These comments were made by people who had their children apprehended, or people who were foster children themselves, albeit with negative experiences. These circumstances caused these particular indiviuals to be hostile toward my posts, toward a person who has chosen to care for children who need care during a time when their families are unable to provide a safe and healthy environment for their own children.
At the time, I was not in a state to deal with that negativity and anger, but I am now more experienced, confident and committed to parenting and foster parenting. I have decided once again to share my experiences, observations, interactions and strategies.
Stay tuned!