Perspective

Do you ever feel like life is going way too fast? I am just having a hard time keeping up right now.  We are fine, but moving forward at full force.   Nothing earth-shattering has happened, but all of a sudden we have a full plate of needs to deal with.

Angie is going to have another laser treatment on her face and arm in the next few weeks.  The treatments have been a blessing and we are grateful for them, but they do leave her with purple spots covering her face and the stares we get when we go out are never welcome.  It bothers me a lot and yet Angie doesn't even notice.  And, not surprisingly, it is adults who are most unkind.

Another round of botox injections is also in our girl's future.  We saw "Dr. Steve" this week and he is happy with the results of the injections but he wants to see if we can get more relief for her shoulder this time.  She has recently been complaining of pain when she is dressing and when the therapist stretches her shoulder.  Again, I am grateful for every opportunity to make her life better.  I complain about Oregon Medicaid, but she has not gone without anything she needs. We are so blessed.

Levi is struggling with pain in his ankle and is walking on his toes again.  Just when I had almost forgotten his cerebral palsy diagnosis I am reminded of the physical challenges he experiences.  He should be wearing leg braces but refuses-ABSOLUTELY REFUSES.  And I am aware of the amount of arguing we will have with him when we try to address his muscle tone in the way it should be treated, with braces or botox.

Today, I took Angie to the hospital for an evaluation with a new physical therapist.  During the evaluation, the therapist asked Angie to perform different tasks to test her strength and balance.  It was hard work.  In the middle of the session, as I saw that she was struggling to complete the tasks, I was aware that I was holding my breath.  My heart rate was racing.  I was almost beside myself with wanting her to be successful.  And then, I thought So what!  Really, who cares if she can stand on one foot for 30 seconds?  Or with her eyes closed?  Or get out of a chair without using her hands to push up?  Who cares?  Of course, this test was not to determine success or failure.  It was just a measurement of her skills.  I knew that in my head from the beginning, but my heart took a little longer to understand.  My girl is already a success.

What a relief! I know now that my life does not depend on test results, and neither does hers.  If she is never able to stand on one foot, but she is kind and considerate and has a handful of friends, she is a success.  You know what?  I am not sure if I can stand on one foot for 30 seconds.  Can you?

Working Hard

The word "hard" has been on my mind a lot lately.  Mostly because I have been having a pity party and considering my life hard.  Taking care of special needs kids is hard.  Being a foster parent is hard.  Keeping our crazy schedule straight is hard.  Being a wife is hard.  Mothering a teenager is hard.  Going to work every day is hard.  You get the idea.  But today I realized that I have it all wrong.  My life is not hard at all.  Not even close.

Angie had 3 appointments at the hospital today.  Speech therapy, Occupational therapy, and a follow-up appointment with Dr. Steve to check the results of the Botox injections.  As I watched her stretch herself and use every ounce of energy in her body, I realized the true meaning of Hard.  She puts all she has into everything she is asked to do and it is exhausting.  And Hard.  She has to work to make her mouth form sounds correctly.  And to learn to write her name.  The therapist stretches her tight muscles and it hurts.  Dr. Steve does it all over again and it still hurts.  She does not complain, though, taking it all in stride.  What in the world am I complaining about?

The other day we went to a basketball tournament with Josh and the gym was up two long flights of stairs.  As I watched Angie struggle up the stairs (and refuse my help) I realized how Hard it is for her to do tasks that others take for granted.  And she never complains.  I have watched her adapt to make difficult tasks more manageable and her perseverance brings tears to my eyes.

School is Hard, too.  Angie has struggled to comply with the demands of Kindergarten and to learn the routines of the classroom.  She is frequently knocked down at recess-or she falls in the rush to get to her friends to play.  She is frustrated by much of the work.  In spite of all that, though, Angie cannot wait to get to school each morning.  And it is Hard.

Angie has taught me many lessons in our time together and today I realized she is not done with me yet.  I have a new perspective about what is "hard" and I am grateful for Angie's example.  In many ways, she is much wiser than I, and I am privileged to have her to keep me humble and honest.  She truly is a miracle and I believe she was sent to do God's work here on Earth.  

I saw her today

I saw her today.......the mom who is so much like me.  I watched from a distance while she went through the motions of having her child evaluated for developmental delays.  She came in with few concerns, only following her doctors instructions to go through the testing process.  She left with her life forever changed.  Everyone did their job today, the testers, the office staff, the mom, even me.  And yet, a mom's heart was broken.  Her reality changed forever.  Her child is impacted by serious, global delays.  We were powerless to make the outcome any different.

I have been this mom, with a slight difference.  I knew from the very beginning that my children's conditions placed them at risk for developmental delays.  You know what?  It doesn't matter.  I believe it is equally hard to hear the numbers and percentages that identify the delays.  The process repeats itself over the years and it never gets any easier to hear the tough information. It reopens the wounds.  Every. Single. Time.

I wanted to take the pain away for this mom.  I saw the pain in her eyes as she rushed out to "find somewhere that she could cry".  I wanted to tell her that it would be okay.  That she would find a "new normal" and that she would love her child even more for the lessons and truth that he would reveal to her.  That every milestone will be even more precious because of the time and energy it would take to reach it.  But I couldn't.  It is too soon.  She must find her own way to process the information and to see the light that is ahead.

I hope I can tell her someday, about the precious blessings my children have been to me. About the hope and the strength that God gives parents as they struggle through the dark days.  I hope that I can support her through the process that is never easy but always necessary.  I hope I can help her see that her child is much more than his delays.  He is a beautiful, strong, gift from God.  I hope someday I can tell her.

Broken brains=broken behavior

There is a theme in my life right now and it is most unwelcome-apologizing for my children's behavior.  I am a strong believer that children need to take responsibility for their actions,  and I try to make sure they do, but I still feel the need to apologize for them.  It may sound like an exaggeration, but my children's behavior truly does require an apology almost every day.  I cannot stand to have others' feelings hurt or have them inconvenienced by my children-or by anyone, really.  It is inexcusable.

On any given day, my children might spit, hit, yell profanity, throw items, run away, or refuse to comply with requests or complete schoolwork.  They might lock you out of the house.  I am often the recipient of the behaviors but when it is someone else, I am horrified.  Embarrassed, ashamed, mortified, angry, upset-you name it, I feel it.  I have to apologize, even though that won't "fix" the situation.  I want to take away the hurt.

Behavior is based in the brain, both positive and negative.  This is true for all humans, young and old.  Most children learn from past experience, modeling, or consequences which behaviors they should and should not repeat.  For children with brain dysfunction, this is much harder.  Not impossible, but extremely challenging.  My children have brains that are broken, and this fact breaks my heart on a daily basis.  Their brain dysfunction impairs their ability to learn behavioral norms and control their impulses and behavior.   Fortunately, the target of their negative behavior is almost always an adult and they are not physically aggressive towards children.  But still.

I am overcome by the emotions created by my kids' negative behaviors.  I am sad for them that they have challenges that impact every area of functioning. I am angry at the birth mother that caused a disability that is 100% preventable.  I am grateful for the understanding and compassion of the teams of people who work with my children.  And I am thankful for a God who knows and sees everything and who loves my children more than my mind can comprehend.

If my children have hurt or offended you, I am sorry.  I will continue to apologize and then will turn to my children concentrate my energy on helping them learn new coping skills and improved self-control.  We will get there, one baby step at a time.

Another new normal

There is one thing that we can be sure of in the Harris household-THINGS WILL CHANGE.  That's just the kind of family we are.  We assume that what is "normal" today will have a completely different definition tomorrow.  Toby has often joked that he counts the heads of our children when he comes home at night because he never knows how many there will be.  I am so glad we are that kind of family.

We received a precious 2 year-old in our home last week.  "Little Miss" is the first child we have had placed in our home in many months, due to the complicated needs of the other kids.  She is an amazing, resilient child and we are thrilled to have her, but now more than ever I am struck by the pain that foster care placement brings to a family, especially her mother.  Because she is with us, her mom aches with the loss.  She worries, prays, and wishes for her child to be returned.  There is a myth that foster parents want to keep kids from their families and that could not be farther from the truth.  I worry, pray, and ache for the same things.  This little one needs her momma, but she also needs to be healthy and safe.  Life is so complicated.

While we wait for the Child Welfare department to decide her future, we have expanded our family to include one more.  It is encouraging to watch my children interact and bond with the foster children in our home.  They have so much love to share and it makes me proud to watch them pour it on.  They are compassionate and kind as they help the children to feel comfortable in a completely foreign place.  Angie included, despite being displaced as the baby of the family.  She has accepted this new family member unconditionally, without jealousy or resentment.  She adores her and tells her often:)  It has been so good for Angie to have a playmate and a friend.  They are learning from each other and my heart is happy as I watch their relationship grow.

I am passionate about foster care and about helping families become healthy and whole.  It is tough business, though.  To become a foster parent, you must be willing to have your heart broken over and over again.  To continue being a foster parent, you must be able to admit that you cannot fix other people and that you will often not agree with the outcome of the child's case.  Many find that this is a deal-breaker and I understand why they do.  The system does not always honor the child's interests and the laws can be contrary to what seems to be common sense.

We have been foster parents for 14 years now.  Over the years, we have hosted nearly 50 children in our home and some of them have returned more than once.  A few will stay forever.  Our hearts have been broken by some of them.  Others have moved on and have kept in touch over the years.   I love to remember the children who returned to their parents and never came back into foster care because the parents changed their lives and sustained the changes.  Those are the foster care success stories.  This is what I hope for "Little Miss".  That we will witness a life change that allows her to be with her momma, who loves her so much.  And then, we can move on to our next assignment and another new normal.

So proud of my girl!!!

See this girl:

She officially became a nurse today.  I am so proud of her.  Kirsten has known she wanted to be a nurse since she realized she could not live with her parents forever-about 2nd grade.  She has strived, struggled, saved, and survived on minimal sleep since she started college.  She amazes me.  You see, Kirsten was diagnosed with ADD when she was 13 years old.  Before that, doctors attributed her learning challenges to anxiety, strong will, and laziness.  No.  She truly could not focus.  She was discouraged, frustrated, and about to give up on school.  But, she had a dream......

Kirsten has overcome so much to reach her goal.  She has spent 4 years caring for dementia patients while going to school and she has loved every single one.  They are her people.  She was made for this work.  Perfect training for her nursing career.  Yesterday, Kirsten took the licensing test and she is now a Licensed Practical Nurse.  She will continue in the nursing program for 3 more terms and then she will be eligible for her RN.  I have no doubt she will achieve her ultimate goal.

We celebrated Kirsten tonight with a special dinner.  What a privilege it has been to watch our child reach for her dreams.  Also, tonight, we wait for a new guest to arrive.  It has been a long time since we have welcomed a foster child into our home and I almost forgot the anticipation.  So many emotions at once.  Sadness for a family about to be torn apart.  Despair for the conditions that bring a child into foster care-how long have they already gone on? Anxiety. Fear.  And, not least of all Hope.  Hope that we will make a difference in the life of a child.  After all, that is what foster care is all about.

Sick

My baby girl has been sick.  And I mean SICK.  Today was day 7 and she was able to return to school but she came right home and crashed.  This sickness was the pneumonia-like kind that sent her to straight to the hospital in the past, but this time I was prepared.  I am going to tell you how we avoided a stay at our (not) favorite place but first I want to make it clear that I am not  trying to sell anything.

About 2 months ago, my friend invited me to her home to learn more about DoTerra essential oils.  As I listened to the many uses for the oils, I wondered how my family, with its multiple challenges, might be affected by trying the oils.  It couldn't hurt, right?

First, I researched oils that have been used for children with behavioral concerns.  The stories were intriguing and I decided to give it a try.  I started with two blends, Balance and Serenity.  I didn't tell anyone at first.  I applied them to Angie's skin before school and the influence on her attention and focus was pretty evident.  Not a miracle, but a noticeable change.  I used them on our days at home and it was obvious to me that the oils were helping our girl regulate her responses and manage her emotions.  It was pretty powerful.  Now, each person and child are unique.  I am just reporting what has happened in our family.

So, this week.  The SICKNESS.  It started with Angie coming home from her long-awaited sleepover with her sisters without her voice.  The illness progressed to coughing, congestion, and eventually, the inability to keep anything in her stomach.  By the second day, I started applying OnGuard and Digestizen, two DoTerra blends, to her feet every 2-3 hours.  I added Rosemary and Oregano to the regimen the next morning and kept up this routine for the rest of the week.  I am convinced that this illness would have landed her in the hospital without the oils.  I have seen it so many times.  We are fortunate to have the medical equipment to monitor her at home and her oxygen levels were getting to the danger zone when I started the protocol, but they did not stay there for long.  I kept her hydrated and she was clearly not getting worse as the days went on, but it was still a long week.

Like I said, everyone is different.  I am just sharing our experience.  I will continue to use the oils when I can and, of course, I will seek medical care when needed.  I am just grateful that we were able to stay home this time.  Especially because Toby was out of town and I was home alone with the kids.  I actually enjoyed the "normal" of caring for a sick child, not a desperately sick child, as I have in the past.  Crazy, I know.  But I crave the normal and regular.

I think we are out of the woods. Although it is hard and helpless to watch your child when they are sick, I am grateful for the quiet time at home and the return to normal without a trip to the hospital.