Laughter, Tears and Love
Jumping into Toddler Momming Through Foster Care.
My sweetheart came into my home at 16 months old. In the time she has been with us, I have laughed more than I had in a long time. She is sunny, and funny, and goofy! She is also able to get into anything and everything! She has found things in our home we didn’t even remember we owned.
Yesterday she started chanting, “No! No! No!” because she had heard it soooooo many times over the previous few days. She is always looking for new and exciting ways to accidentally harm herself. And then gets upset when we stop her.
Typical toddler behavior, I know. I admit to feeling like I’m constantly falling short on this mom thing. I should know she’ll be able to get into something. I should anticipate behaviors. I should be able to calmly and lovingly redirect her towards safer activities. But, in the moment, I panic as thoughts of her hurting herself, of not being able to keep her safe, of explaining to the caseworker why this child got injured in my home—and I fail to be calm and soft voiced. My voice goes to hysteria range as I beg her to stop what she’s doing.
It’s not just these safety moments that I disappoint myself, it’s when I turn around after having my eyes off my beautiful child for 10 seconds, and see everything in the room pulled out and spread across the floor, and I say a defeated, “Baby, no!”
All parenting is learning as you go, but when you jump into a child’s life as a foster parent, it’s baptism by fire for learning this kid. We aren’t glorified babysitters, we don’t get a set of likes and dislikes and a schedule. We get a child with the clothes on their back, and maybe a change of clothes, and are supposed to figure out everything else. It’s hard.
That being said, while I would change my reactions, I wouldn’t change a thing about this beautiful soul who I fall in love with every day. I laugh and giggle and sing along with her. My heart melts when she lays her head on my shoulder at sleep time, as I sway and sing to her. Foster parenting is full of laughter, tears, and joy. And so much love! Because even if I only get to love her for one day, it’s one person and one day more she was loved, and that is totally worth it!
About the Creator
Rebecca Bailey
I’m a believer, a foster mom, a dog mom & an amateur baker.
Keep reading
More stories from Rebecca Bailey and writers in Families and other communities.
Failure
I had failed, that’s all I could think. I was a failure as a parent, a foster parent and a decent human being. In training, they all but said that if we disrupted it was all our fault because we weren’t trying hard enough. (Disrupted means asking a child to be removed from your home before they are reunified, sent to live with relatives, or moved to their forever home). I had tried so hard, but I just couldn’t take it anymore and this child and our family was suffering because of it.
By Rebecca Bailey5 years ago in Families
~Mother~
Mama, I see you. It took a long time but I see you. I can understand now. I got hurt because they hurt you. It doesn't make what was done right but that is the hard truth of generational trauma. We all are little children who need to feel loved, wanted, needed, accepted, and protected. When that doesn't happen for one reason or the other, that is when trauma comes into play. Our human minds can't accept the fact that someone who was supposed to love us, someone who was supposed to protect us has rejected us. We will forever question, why? What did we do to deserve this? It must be our fault somehow we assume. Most of the time, it is not about us but the person rejecting us and their past. The pain they felt; and rejection get projected onto someone else. The pain isn't meant to be shared but it has to come out some way and too often it comes out in the wrong way. This needs to end. We are all human; at the end of the day, we can only do our best. However, a genuine effort needs to be made to not pass this poison down the line to our children and the next generation. I'm personally working on my change and my truth. There are better outlets, more healthy outlets, than passing our anger, hatred, bitterness, and pain onto a loved one.
By Lindsey Altom2 days ago in Families
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.