Day 60 Why It Matters

Michael and his frog blanket

I was on my way to Pierre, having been invited by DSS to give my input on how to improve foster parent training in my state. I sat in the back seat listening to the workers talk about the heart break they deal with everyday. "I wish we had some welcome bags" One said. "I had to drop those girls off in dirty clothes and underwear in the middle of the night. With nothing at all. I felt so bad." My mind wandered back thru some of the kids I'd cared for and how important welcome bags are. The spinning wheel of kids in my head stopped on a little boy, maybe three years old. He came with his infant sister in the middle of the night. She slept soundly while I tried to comfort him. Wide eyed and hyper-vigilant, it was clear we would not be sleeping tonight. So I sat with him. Earlier I had taken off his urine soaked shorts, no diaper or underwear, and his dirty tee shirt and dressed him in clean Pjs. He had lice but I wouldn't discover this until tomorrow. We just sat he and I. A little refugee from the war torn country of his family. When he arrived I took the things out of his welcome bag and put them in a clear container with his name on it. "Your things" I said as I showed him. I put his bucket on the shelf next to the other kids buckets. I spread his welcome blanket over his bed, although it would be weeks before he felt comfortable enough to sleep in it instead of collapsing on the floor in a heap when he became exhausted. "Your bed" I said as I motioned.  In the coming weeks he blossomed. He talked more. We conquered  the lice. He learned to sleep in his own bed at bed time and not wander the house if he awoke in the middle of the night. Several times everyday he went to his bucket and looked inside. "Mine stuff" he would say to himself. He put the winter hat on his head. He took out the little cars and looked at each one. Rolling them on the floor and then carefully placing them back in the bucket. He put the socks on his feet and took them off again. All the while muttering "mine stuff." After a few more weeks the call came. A relative placement had been found. He would be moving tomorrow. That is the way it goes sometimes. We said our good byes. My heart was sad as I wrote a little note to put with his new clothes and his welcome blanket and toys and a few books I would send with him. Just a little information about his likes and dislikes and his routine. A month later I got the call. He was back in foster care. Just the boy this time. Not the baby.  Could I take him? Of course I would. He arrived with nothing again. Clutching the lone thing he had left in the world, one of the cars from his welcome bag. Where did his other stuff go? I don't know. What happened to him while he was away? I have no idea. Where was baby sister? She was with a different family member. As soon as he arrived he went and sat on his bed. I spread out his new welcome blanket. He went to the shelf and looked in his bucket. I filled it with his welcome bag toys and items. "mine stuff" He said, this time with out the wild hyper-vigilant look in his eyes. He didn't stay with us long. I don't know what became of him. Many years later I got a call saying his sister, now 7, was back in foster care and could I take her? I could not. My house was bursting at the seams and I was now a single work outside the home foster mom. Where was the boy I asked. The worker did not know there was a brother and did not have any information about him. They had different fathers. Perhaps He had been placed with his fathers relatives. My heart was broken. But I never forgot how much that welcome bag meant for that little boy. When you have lost everything even the simplest things mean something. This is why I knew I wanted to help when I heard there were no welcome bags. I called the people I know at the department and asked if I could help. There is a beautiful soul in the foster parent association who has been fostering kids for 45 years. She is amazing and she has been lovingly assembling welcome bags for kids for years. The problem is storage. The foster parent association used to have a storage unit that was donated. The property was sold and the unit was lost. Right now the supplies are stacked high in a garage and they are difficult to get to. A new storage area will hopefully be available soon. So my kids and I spent a few hours on a Saturday helping Susan, from the Black Hills Foster Parent Association, moving some things around and talking about foster care and welcome bags. I decided, as my contribution, I will collect and assemble 50 welcome bags. I have 645 Facebook friends. If each person donated one or two items this would be more than possible. I would need to clean out my own garage to store the items. My minions and I could do that. So I made some lists. And I put it out there. So far two generous ladies have donated some items for infants, toddler and teens. And one beautiful lady included the information in her agency newsletter to spread the word. I am hoping that after the holidays people will pitch in and we can do this. These kids belong to all of us. Not everyone can foster. But everyone can do something.

Wrong things made right day 55

Listen here. I don't much like this blog anymore. If I'm honest it feels dull and lack luster. I'm loving Project 50. Just not writing about it. And I just couldn't pin point why. I was at church and the pastor kept talking abou the story of the gospel unfolding. He kept saying story. And Then I understood.  I've  been writing about it like its a list of things to be done. A progress report. I love lists. I find them very satisfying. But this is not a list. Its a story. My story. The every day details and grand ideas of my life. The narrative is what is missing. So let me start again. Let me tell you my story. 

It started in the 8th grade. Miss Williams public speaking class at Dillingham Middle school. I hadn't meant to take the class and don't know for sure how I ended up there. But I remember the first time I connected with an audience. I was giving a speech about funny things that happen when I babysit. I hadn't thought people would respond so well. I never knew I was funny. But kids were literally falling out of there chairs laughing. A few days later someone I didn't know stopped me in the library and asked me if I was that speech girl who told funny stories. And I was off and running. Over the years I have had the chance to speak in public many times on a variety of topics. Some times I have absolutely flopped. Nobody was picking up what I was laying down. Maybe it was a topic I didn't know enough about. Or maybe something the audience was not interested in. These times keep me humble. We all need humility in our lives. Failure is a part of learning. I always start out thinking how did I get myself into this? I wish I had not said yes. But then I start to talk and it is magic. The connection that I make with people feeds my soul. The stories that people come up and tell me when I'm done. The people who encourage me and tell me how much they enjoyed listening to me. This is the spark that makes me love public speaking. There are a few things in this world that I know in my soul I was made to do. I hear it whispered to me in the twilight between waking and sleeping. Speak. Write. You were made to do this. So when I started watching TED talks I knew someday in some venue I would be doing this. Ideas worth sharing. I have ideas. I watched my heroes Dr. Nadine Burke Harris and Brene' Brown speak so passionately about things that stir my soul and I knew in my bones that I should pursue this idea. The problem was I could just never pin point the right topic. I have spoken about foster parenting, adverse childhood experiences, child development, resilience, home visiting and a variety of other topics. None of them were right for this. I applied to give a TEDX talk last year and was turned down because my topic was to broad. But I finally have an idea. An idea worth sharing. I am going to apply again this summer and I am going to apply for a national TED talk fellowship later next year. Maybe I don't get picked. But maybe I do.  A guest speaker at our church once preached a sermon and pretty much the only thing I remember from the whole thing is that is dad always told him the only fail is a no try. So I'm going to keep trying until its right. What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail? 

We were finishing up dinner and Christopher brought up the question again. "When are you going to get a boyfriend?" This need for me to be paired up ran deep for him. It had been five years since his father and I had divorced. His dad had girlfriends. He had even been engaged. But here I sat uncoupled. So on the spot I playfully made up a name. Pulled it out of thin air. I was lying. He knew I was playing. Just lightening the mood. "I have a boyfriend!" I declared "His name is Carl Jensen." He paused and studied my face. "Nuh uh. you do not! Show me his profile on Facebook. It happened to be the profile of a dog puppet named Carl Jensen. He went to Cheese university in Ho Chi Minh and he worked for the post office. Perfect. We all busted out laughing. But I insisted that Carl Jensen was my boy friend. "No way! He is a puppet!" They insisted. Over the years Carl Jensen has become a house hold name. When I, briefly, got a real boy friend the kids couldn't wait to come at me with comments like "What about Carl? He's going to be so mad" and When it didn't work out. "At least you will always have Carl." One day we started talking about all the Carl Jensens in the world. How does your name influence who you turn out to be? How were they the same and different. Michael dared me to send friend requests to as many Carl Jensens as I could find on Face book. Challenge accepted. I friend requested so many people on Facebook named Carl Jensen that Facebook had to remind me only to send friend requests to people I know. Out of all of those Carls I got three new Facebook friends. And thus the Carl Jensen project was born. Wouldn't it be neat to send letters to as many people named Carl Jensen as I could find? I love writing letters and I love hearing peoples stories. So I got on the internet and looked on the white pages. There are a lot of people named Carl Jensen. So I decided only to focus on the ones spelled Carl Jensen. No Karl with a k. No Jenson with an o. I started with ten addresses. Then I waited because there is no way to say hi I'm a stranger but I'm not crazy. I am just curious about you and what your life is like. I promise I'm not a stalker. Finally I just did it. I wrote my first clumsy awkward letter to a Carl in RuthHaven, Iowa. I stamped it and threw it in the mail. That same day I noticed that the Carl whose name I picked from literally hundreds of Carl Jensens was one of my three Face book friends named Carl Jensen. What are the odds. And Carl, if you are reading this now I am really not a crazy stalker lady. I'm just curious and interested in people and how they are different and alike and what their story is. Next week I will write another Carl letter and we will see what becomes of this project. 

50 Days and 50 things

Hi Y'all. I'm a little behind this week. And frankly I'm not in the mood to be funny or inspiring. So here is a list of 50 questions and some pictures for the week. More to come on Tuesday.

1. Do you prefer to write in blue or black pen? I prefer to write in pencil. I like to erase my mistakes.
2. Would you prefer to live in the country or the city? The city for sure. But not the big city. The middle sized city.
3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? learn to drive a bus. People always need bus drivers.
4. Do  you drink your tea or coffee with sugar? Do you know me but at all? Sweet sugary goodness. Of course I do.
5. What was your favorite book as a child? The Bunny Twins or Nurse Nancy. My Aunt had these tiny Golden books that I was fascinated with. I think one of them had a duck smoking a cigarette. They were the most interesting little books.
6. Do you prefer baths or showers? I take showers to get clean and baths to relax.
7. If you could be a mythical creature which would you choose? For sure something Narnian.
8. Do you prefer reading paper or electronic books? Paper for sure. Nothing can replace the sensory experience of reading a book.
9. What is your favorite item of clothing? My John Mayer Where the Light is t-shirt. Its really soft. It fits just right and it has John Mayer on it.
10. Do you like your name? Would you ever change it? I often tell my children that my actual real name is Henrietta Pickles. I really do like my first name. For reasons you can imagine I am not fond of my last name. But its the name I share with my children. So I'll keep it. Unless someone gives me another one.
11. Who is a mentor to you? I have had so many wonderful mentors. The one that comes to mind is my old boss Karen Long. She encouraged me to go back to school and taught me so much about the way children learn and grow. She used to tell me that I was the little engine that could.
12. Would you ever want to be famous? If so what for? I would like to be famous. But not famous famous. Like famous in certain circles. But not so famous that I couldn't go to the store without being mobbed. I would like to be famous for writing a book or giving a Ted talk.
13. Are you a restless sleeper? Because of my sleep apnea I never sleep deeply. I am always having some crazy ass dream. So I would say I'm a restless sleeper.
14. Do you consider yourself a romantic? No. I'm not very romantic. I'm thoughtful. But not romantic.
15. Which element best represents you? It would be tin. Because it has an atomic number of 50. Also because the tin man needed a heart. Hearts are my favorite shape.
16. Who do you want to be closer to? I wish I was physically closer to my family. They all just need to move here.
17. Do you miss someone at the moment? My friend Ernie passed away 20 years ago this Christmas. His birthday is coming up this week. I really miss him. Especially this time of year.
18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. Once when my sister were taking a bath a baby mouse came up the drain.
19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? An armadillo.
20. What can you see outside your bedroom window? My front porch.
21. What are you most thankful for? Without a doubt my children. They have caused me to learn things about myself. They know me better than anyone else. They are the light of my life.
22. Do you like spicy food? No. Heartburn. Besides. yuck.
23. Have you ever met someone famous? One time I saw Howie Mandel on the street in LA. Besides that no.
24. Do you keep a diary or a journal? I have a diary that I only write in on New years eve. I started it when I was 19. Once a year I make predictions, record world events, life updates. include pictures. Its pretty interesting.
25. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil? I already said pencil. This year for Christmas I'm getting myself a food processor, a 360 mop and an electric pencil sharpener.
26. What is your star sign? I don't do that.
27. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy? Who likes soggy cereal. Gross. Crunchy.
28. What would you want your legacy to be? Extravagant love. Love that doesn't even make sense. that is the way God loves me. So big. I don't ever have to earn it. It goes beyond logic.
29. Do you like reading? What was the last thing you read? I love to read. I didn't learn to read until I was 9. I have a learning disability. Learning to read was tough. I remember sitting in a reading circle in first grade crying because I put so much effort into trying to read and I still couldn't do it. I never take reading for granted. I am in the middle of a book now called "Bad with Money"
30. How do you show someone you love them? I tell them right out. other than that I give them a note or a card or buy them a gift.
31. Do you like ice in your drinks? I am an ice cruncher. I chew my ice up. My ex husband used to yell at me that I was going to break all my teeth if I didn't stop. But I haven't broken a tooth yet.
32. What are you afraid of? Mice and rats. So afraid. Phobic.
33. What is your favorite scent? Lavender. New baby smell. New car smell. Sun screen.
34. Do you address older people by their first name or their last name. Depends. How older are they and what is the relationship? How were they introduced to me? I'm from the south. So maybe Miss so and so or mister so and so. Play it by ear.
35. If money was not a factor how would you live your life? Near all the people I love. I would have a compound for sure. My table would be long.
36. Do you prefer swimming in pools or in the ocean? In the pool please. The ocean is grand. I love a beach vaca. I'll stick my feet in but I don't want to swim.
37. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground? Look around to see who might have lost it. If no one then pay a bill or put gas in my car or take my family out to dinner.
38. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish. I did and I did. I suppose you want to know what I wished. It was a matter of the heart.
39. What is one thing you would always want to teach your children? Don't run from the cops. They will catch you. They have more resources than you.
40. If you had to have a tattoo what would it be and where would you get it. I have two tattoos and I am never getting anymore. The first one means so much to me. Courage Dear Heart is my life motto. Its on my wrist. The second one is a small shark on my rib cage. I hate it. It was a mistake. I am glad other people cant see it.
41. What can you hear right now? My teen aged sons laughing from the other room while they are watching tv. It is music to my ears.
42. Where do you feel the safest? Here at home with my dog. He will eat you if you try to bother me. Not really. He's a big baby. But he barks a good game.
43. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? Codependency. The habit of taking care of other peoples needs to the detriment of my own needs. Always being the fixer.
44. If you could travel back to any era, which would you choose? You know I'm going back to March 1932 so I can see who stole the Lindbergh baby.
45. What is your most used emoji? I think it's the laughing face with the tears streaming out.
46. What is your favorite season and why? I like summer. I am a hot weather girl. I like it hot. Flip flops and sunscreen. Sweet iced tea. Air conditioning. Summer all the way.
47. How would you spend your ideal day? Taking a nap. Eating really good food. Sleeping.  Any of those things would brighten up my day. Ha, ha I said sleeping twice.
48. Describe yourself using one word. Weird
49. What do you regret the most? Wasting five years of my life on someone who could never love me.
50. Invent your own word. What does it mean? fliggityfloo. A whimsical word that describes a carefree feeling.

Movie theater date night

Bowling alley date night

Holy cups batman 

Organizing the kitchen

Dentist

Helping out with Black Hills Foster Parent Association and welcome bags

Library day

40 Days of Weird

Don't be a hater. Christmas is fun

I don't mind telling you that I go to therapy once a month. I don't think that should be any more surprising than telling you that I go to the doctor when I have a sore throat. I am single mom of 5 kids with varying degrees of need and I have a trauma history of my own that leads me to a high ACE score and a propensity to fall in love with alcoholics. Of course I need caring competent adult to bounce things off of. Help me expose the stigma of getting treatment for mental illness for what it is. I remember many years ago sitting in a foster parent meeting. One of the CPS workers was  explaining that she had just discovered that one of the foster parents she worked with was in therapy. Gasp! She stated that if any of us were attending counseling or receiving mental health services the department would need to know about it. I understand that if a foster parent had a serious mental illness the department would need to know. Just as if they would need to know if you had a serious physical illness and you were caring for vulnerable children. But I wonder why it is necessary to shame people for reaching out. I long for the day when people feel as comfortable saying I have a counseling appointment today as they do saying I have a dentist appointment today. Mental illness is not like fight club. We can talk about it. So I have a wonderful therapist. She listens to my hair brained ideas and usually is on board with my crazy schemes. She hardly ever says I told you so. We can spend the whole hour talking about how something is a really bad idea and I shouldn't do it. And at the end of the hour she doesn't even act surprised when I say I am going to go ahead and do it anyway. But seriously y'all. Her insight and listening ear have been invaluable. And, truth be told, she usually lets me talk until I come to my own conclusion about what is healthy or right or helpful for my life. So imagine my surprise when she seemed unimpressed when I explained my project 50 idea. As I talked she slowly started typing on her lap top. She does that when I say something weird or noteworthy. She peered at me over her computer and asked me if I was doing this as a way to stay busy so I don't have to deal with that other thing we were talking about. Wait. What? Was she really not getting this. She is usually so tuned into my ideas. This is not a time filler idea. I have plenty of crap to keep me busy for decades. I'm trying to get my shit together here. Why was she not as excited about this as I was. Then it dawned on me that not everybody is going to get it. To some people this might seem like a strange idea. Then it also occurred to me that I really don't care. Because the more I talk about my ideas and put my goals in front of my face the more achievable they become. Because my kids are watching. They see my list up on the wall. They see me get out my notebook every night and check off the things that I have accomplished. They are invested in helping me plan family date nights and being a part of helping make welcome bags for kids. They are sitting at the table with me when I write letters to friends and loved ones and they are writing their own letters right along with me. My teenagers are helping me make the monthly budget and seeing where our money is going. They are watching me when I fail. They are seeing me say "well that didn't work. let me try again" They are in this. And a lot of my friends and family do get it. I have cheerleaders that I never expected. I am only 40 days into this project and I am having fun. My 15 year old and I found an app for my phone that shows what I would look like bald. We were sitting on my bed downloading pictures and laughing until we were gasping for air. And its inspiring. Last week we went thru the drive thru at McDonalds and I got one too many fries. We saw a homeless guy sitting on the curb with a sign. I thought here was a chance to do a random act of kindness. I tell you this not to toot my own horn. Usually when we see a homeless person my kids ask me to give them money and I explain that the best way we can help homeless people is to give to organizations that help homeless people like the Hope Center or the Cornerstone Mission. I always explain that even if we can not give money we can always give respect by looking people in the eye and not turning away. We can always say good morning or hello because often homeless people feel over looked or invisible. But this day I said "Michael. Hop out and give this guy these fries" My 14 year old ran over to the guy and handed him the food. As we pulled away my son said "Look at that mom. He's digging in!" From the back seat my 8 year old yelled "We helped a guy!" My 15 year old asked "What if he is not even homeless. What if he is a faker?" I explained that it's not even our job to decide. We just gave a hungry guy some fries and that all we need to worry about. I don't think they will forget it. I may be odd. That's ok. But stay tuned. This journey has just begun. Wait until you see my bald head riding down the street on my new bike with my make up on point and my well trained dog running along side of me on the way to some fun family outing with my crazy kids. I do it my way y'all. I'm getting my shit together.

The gang 

At the doctor for my leg appointment

Family trip to Sioux Falls

Carving our Scary Steve Pumpkins