"you're such a good person"

I’ve been a foster parent for almost 7 years now.

I don’t say that to impress you. In our agency, our longevity is hardly impressive. There are families who have foster parented for decades and had untold dozens of children in their care. I’m just telling you that I’ve had some time to reflect on typical conversations.

A friend of mine who is just starting out as a foster parent texted me yesterday.

Any advice on how to respond to people who say things like "you're such an inspiration" "you're such a blessing to her"?  I feel like I want to answer/correct with paragraphs which is rarely appropriate the situation so I end up just keeping my mouth shut?! 

Since I’ve asked heard this comment repeatedly, kicked myself after missed opportunities, and given more than my share of stumbling, horrible answers, I’m sharing my thoughts somewhat coherently here. Whether I’m equipping another foster parent with a helpful answer or helping someone else know NOT to say this, here is my response to this line of thinking.

But first! Before I get into what I think is a good answer, I want to admit what I think was a spectacular but hilarious failing of my own. Picture me at the gym, sweaty post-workout, and corralling multiple humans, some who look like me and some who do not, toward the door. Someone is wearing their coat backwards, someone has their face in a book (about to walk into a doorframe), and someone just wiped their nose on my shirt. I’m at the gym a lot, so people know me, and people have gotten to know that we are foster parents.

• Person: [smiles, waves, touches baby’s cheek] You’re definitely going to heaven for what you do for those kids.

• Me: Ahhh. Uhh, ok, I don’t think that’s how that works. [walks off awkwardly chuckling]

Terrible theology aside, there was a chance for me to lovingly direct the person to consider the implication of their comment. Instead, I’ve been kicking myself for weeks. “I don’t think that’s how that works? Come on, Kelley!” [facepalm]

So, is there something WRONG with telling a foster parent they’re ‘a good person’ or ‘an inspiration’?

First, thank you for meaning something good. There are deliberately mean comments you could make, so I’m always going to give you the benefit of the doubt for trying to be positive. But unfortunately, let’s think about what you said. I don’t think you’ll like it.

The implication behind your statement is: That child is an unwanted burden. Even if you didn’t think that when you said it, you don’t look at someone with a delicious chocolate ice cream cone and tell them they’re a good person for eating it. You don’t tell the average person he’s an inspiration; you say that to the person facing cancer. Saying I’m a good person means I’m handling an undesired task so the rest of you don’t have to. And that’s not what I’m doing.

But, wait! You are! Nope. Not a cause. Not a task. You go tell the executive director of our agency that he’s a good person. Go tell the caseworker she’s an inspiration. Go tell the CASA he’s going to heaven. Because they are involved in a cause. I am parenting a child. And children are a gift, made in the image of God. And I’m honored to have whoever God sends me to care for in this home.

So, here’s the good answer I try to formulate when people say this:

“Actually she’s an awesome kid, so we think we’re the lucky ones!”

This gives them a moment to realize they just implied that a child (who is often standing right in front of them) was some form of hardship, a burden. Something society needs cleaned up. From experience, I’ve seen this response can change their perspective without correcting them, and sometimes they actually offer a follow-up that’s more appropriate.

Be impressed when people fight for a cause. In fact, become a CASA! Raise money for a foster care agency! Be that good person! But if you’re talking to me, I consider what I’m doing a privilege. You don’t need to thank me, be impressed by me, be inspired by me, or think I’m a good person. In fact, it’s so great! Let me talk to you about why you should pray about being a foster parent, too.

setting up Crib (again)

Have you seen that meme that compares a profession or activity in four quadrants: what society thinks I do, what my mom thinks I do, what I think I do, what I actually do. They’re pretty funny. I decided today that if I made one for foster parenting, the boxes would be:

• what society thinks I do: abusing children and living the fat life off those huge government checks

• what my mom thinks I do: snuggling babies

• what I think I do: folding endless laundry

• what I actually do: setting up and tearing down Crib

Not to be all #shamelessbrag, but I’m at the point where I don’t need instructions to set up and tear down Crib. And it isn’t like a simple process. You need, like, a drill and all kinds of hex key tools. But this sucker has been up and down enough times that it’s like “we gotta get Crib out again” and an hour later, there’s Crib. Boom.

We bought Crib when we were pregnant for the first time, almost ten years ago now. So exciting! We set it up carefully, my husband following the instructions for the first time in his life because I was being fanatic about safety. Then we did the thing where you, like, try really hard to shake it apart, and when nothing clangs to the floor, you nod at each other like, yeah, nothing’s going to tear this sucker apart.

Our 9yo slept in that thing in our old house for a while, then I cried the day I went in to get him from nap and he had chewed the CRAP out of the sides. Like just a single nap, he got bored and nibbled down basically every piece of wood he could reach with those irritable two little teeth on the bottom. I was heartbroken. Poor Crib!

Truth is, I was pregnant again and was picturing a new baby in this now less-than-pristine wooden Crib, and it made me angry. Turns out, she would never sleep in Crib, just safely in the arms of Jesus. (you can read more about that journey here)

No one can stand empty Crib, especially one that was to be filled, so we converted it to a toddler bed. A few years later, we were about to move and I was pregnant again, high-risk, and all of a sudden, I was recovering from a month-early C-section instead of helping our whole family move our house. I never got to say goodbye to the old house, but Crib turned out in the new place with a new baby in it. I don’t honestly know who set it up that time. But there was Crib. Ready to cradle another baby.

Just three short months after that, we got our first foster placement of a newborn and an eleven-month old, and suddenly Crib had a bunch of co-workers! People said we looked like a daycare with now three cribs and a barely four-year-old just adjusting to life in a big boy bed.

Looking back, Crib likely felt like he had it easy, as his occupant was a sweet sleeper, and the other two babies (who were in the midst of one of their young lives’ great traumas) were experiencing physical symptoms and emotions they didn’t understand. Endless crying and thrashing with all the strength their tiny bodies could muster probably made Bonus Cribs shudder. Truthfully, Bonus Cribs saw a lot of sadness, but—I hope and pray—maybe the beginning seed of some healing, too.

After we returned to a family of just four, Crib become a toddler bed again briefly, then did a brief stint in the attic. Crib was probably lonely, but not for long.

Another call and another baby, this one a micropreemie full of medical needs and uncertainty. But, oh—did that boy grow! Did he amaze us? Every. Single. Day.

As micropreemie turned into best-little-brother and precocious toddler, Crib had to be moved into big brother’s room—inseparable little buddies—because it was better to have Crib in the same room than risk anyone climbing out of (or INTO!) Crib to share the night. Crib must have felt so much love in those cuddles.

I’m going to yadda-yadda-yadda the part where this particular Crib occupant left, because it’s still a little fresh even a year later, and I don’t have a lot of words for that experience—but Crib has stood solidly empty since last July as a salve for formerly-big-brother who was now missing his smaller counterpart. He solidly refused to have Crib taken away, preferring to sleep with an empty bed than all alone.

Crib was empty and quiet for nine months. We only recently decided it was time to put Crib back in the attic, adding a set of bunk beds in his place.

Goodbye, Crib.

Now the phone rings.

And so it begins again.

Another baby.

Hey, Crib? It’s me. I have the hex keys and the drill. I’ll see you in an hour.

Welcome back. You’ll be wearing pink for this next part of the journey.

donate your small talk

I follow a lot of foster care media online, and the best campaign I’ve seen in a long time (possibly ever but there are some awfully good ones) is #donateyoursmalltalk. The concept is that the simple act of sharing information about foster care can make a difference. As a foster mom, I love this because there is an ABUNDANCE of mis-information out there, and it’s critical to speak truth. I invite you to watch, learn from, and love these spots. Then, donate your small talk. (Copy/paste facts below the videos.)

More than 700 youth enter the foster care system every day.

23,000 foster kids age out every year.

1 in 5 kids will be homeless when they age out of foster care.

Adopting children from Foster Care can be of little or no cost.

1 in 184 kids in the U.S. are in Foster Care.

The average age of a child in foster care is 8 years.

There are over 400,000 kids in the foster care system at any given time.

70% of foster youth aspire to pursue a college education.

34 months is the time it takes for foster kids to get adopted.

"boy, you have your hands full"

A lady at the grocery store must have felt my two boys were being too loud today because she gave me 'the eyeball' and said, "Boy, you have your hands full. I hope they still nap."

Hmm.

What 8-year-old naps, lady? And, also, mind your business.

I do not have my hands full. This is, in fact, the lightest my hands have been since I became a mother 8 years ago. I had just the one newborn, then, and I may have thought my hands were full, but they were not. Because shortly thereafter, I was pregnant and had a toddler. But still, my hands were not full.

Two years later, we were a foster family and I was parenting four-under-four. Yes, I had a 3-year-old, an 11-month-old, a 4-month-old, and a newborn. Ok, that was PRETTY close to full, I'll admit... The issue there was that I hadn't thought through what three non-walkers meant. I'll tell you what it meant: it meant wearing one baby while pushing a double stroller LITERALLY EVERYWHERE.

More recently, for three and a half years, I had three boys. Loud, boisterous, energetic, silly, prone-to-running-and-swordfighting BOYS. They started out as a 5-month-old, a two-year-old, and a five-year-old. But, as children are known to do, they grew up. They were 3, 5, and 8 years old when that stage of our lives ended this summer. 

So, lady with the judgmental eyes, I do not have my hands full. I would venture to say that none of us do. None of us are doing enough. Few of us are really giving all we can to help others.

Someday soon, my hands will open wide again and more children will be in my family. Today is not that day for us, as today we are healing. But trust me, that day will come. 

Some stranger will see me pushing a double stroller, or holding a baby with one hand while I scold a toddler, or corralling a bunch of preschoolers. And the stranger may think (perhaps keeping their thoughts to themselves), "her hands are full."

But my hands will not be full. Because there is always room for us to do more.

What happens in a Foster Care Home Evaluation?

In addition to all your background checks and a family study, a foster care caseworker will come to your home for a Home Evaluation. While this probably varies greatly from state to state and even agency to agency, here’s a good idea of some things to expect. Some of them are obvious, but some of them really surprised me the first time!

1. They will flush your toilet. Not kidding. They watched the water go down and come back up in our potty! (They have to make sure the plumbing works.)

2. They will run your sink to make sure the water gets hot. Have any handy conversation starters for when you’re in the bathroom while a stranger holds her hand under your running sink? I didn’t.

3. Read carefully about your state and county’s firearms/weapons policies (and their storage if applicable). For us, a firearm and ammunition must be stored separately and locked separately.

4. They will look at your cleaning products and medicine storage. Make sure everything is up high where little hands can’t reach, that all containers are clearly labeled, and that all potentially dangerous substances are locked up.

5. You will need a date-stamped fire extinguisher accessible near every source of fire or flame. (We are required to show separate ones for our fireplace and gas stove even though they are nearby.)

6. They will test all the smoke detectors… as in press the button down on every one to make them scream. Lesson learned: don’t schedule a home evaluation when you have a little one sleeping! You need one on each floor of your home, including the attic and/or basement.

7. Our agency requires two posted (and visible) “no smoking” signs on the main living floor of our home. I got pretty ones so they blended a little better with the décor and my living room didn’t suddenly feel like a Pub.

8. Our agency requires a posted fire escape plan on the main floor. Keep in mind, my house is small enough that there isn’t an angle I found from which I couldn’t see either the front or back door. Still, I had to get out my crayons and graph paper to outline my house to draw colorful arrows that pointed to the exits. Safety first.

9. Emergency phone numbers have to be posted, visibly. (We have the side of our fridge reserved for foster-care-related signage, because it adds up!) We have to showcase 911, poison control, police/fire, and gas emergency. My mom is also on that paper because Grandma is always the #1 contact for our everyday “emergencies”!

10. They will check your bedrooms. All of them. (There’s no where to hide the wash you didn’t finish; just embrace it.) Each child needs a bed, so they have to visibly count.

11. If you’re looking to host young children, they will check for outlet safety and make sure your extension cords or long lamp cords are stored securely. (In our case, we changed all our outlets to child safety outlets were acceptable rather than messing with the push-in plastic pieces.)

12. They asked questions about our pets, our neighbors, and our stairs. They also checked the backyard for basic hazards (like holes and ungated swimming pools, not like uneven pavers).

While the Home Evaluation seems like a simple “check” on the long list of items toward becoming an approved family, I was in for some definite surprises. I hope this helps as you prepare and consider this great calling!

table for 4

With great hope that God’s loving plan for our son's life is unfolding exactly as He’d always been planning, we share with you that our family of 5 will return to being a family of 4 one week from today. Foster parenting is a unique journey, and ours has been remarkable. We have loved and parented Lil Man for 1,206 days. 3 years, 3 months, and 18 days. What a blessing he has been!

To address quickly three questions that many have asked us.

1. It would be atypical for us to have future contact with him, but we would love that if it is offered.

2. Yes, if he would come back into care, we would be called. But my friends, please, oh please, do not hope for this. Please do not hope for our son’s family to fail.

3. Yes, we still feel God’s call to be foster parents in the future, but we do not know what that will look like.

Our requests:

• Please pray for all three of our beloved boys to be resilient. Our hearts are absolutely breaking for our older two sons.

• Please pray for Lil Man and his family. This will be a difficult transition for everyone. Pray for his safety and emotional adjustment.

• Above all, please pray for Lil Man's eternal future. Reminder: Lil Man does not need the Waller family to “save” him. Like all of us, all he will ever need is Jesus.

Finally, we want to remind you that the four of us are at the center of this circle. We promise anything you feel and want to “vent” about – we feel MORE intensely.  Instead of making us grimace through your expressions of frustration, please join WITH us in rejoicing in God’s plan. 

We are so honored that you have chosen to be active foster grandparents, foster aunts and uncles, foster cousins, and FRIENDS for this precious boy. We will never be able to thank you enough for your prayers, babysitting, random acts of kindness, and sacrificial acceptance of this calling. We have no doubt of our Father’s merciful plan for Lil Man.

Great is His faithfulness.

With love and anticipation for the future,

Matt and Kelley

P.S. If you wish to write him a letter or send a picture, feel free (some of you did this last May) – we will put it into his Life Book.