Article: It's Crazy how kids blossom

I am a resident of La-La land. For 13 years or so
(who counts when you're having so much fun?), I have
been a foster parent. I've been called noble, dedicated, wonderful,
on and on, ad nauseam. I've been called what is more
accurate--crazy. Usually articles on foster care are serious. Well, there is alot of humor in foster parenting, and maybe more people would be receptive if they knew that it was not all nobility.

There was a little girl who was precocious. We lovingly outfitted her and sent her off to second grade. We thought all was well until I got a note to come in for a school conference. Seems our little darling was writing sexually explicit notes to her classmates. Of course, we explained she was in treatment, etc., and all the teacher kept saying was, "Couldn't you watch your language around her?" Somewhere there is a teacher who thinks the pre-Vatican II girl was capable of saying what was in those notes. My husband laughed all the way home.

There are placements I have turned down. How about, "This is an emergency placement...it will only be a few days." We have adopted several of those short-term placements...after four years, why not? I've never met a social worker with a good concept of time. They always start with, "It's just for the night."

The problem with taking foster children is they're like potato chips; you can't stop with one. How else could you have a career that is so underpaid, unrecognized with lousy benefits--yet gives so much gratification? I had the privilege of watching grubby little monsters grow up into lovely young people. Of course, along the way, I've grown gray in their service. The social workers have gotten younger since I started: there is a big turnover. Next to the foster parents, they are the lowest paid in the social services field, and they have the second hardest job. They have to convince you to take these kids on a temporary basis and love them on a permanent basis.

Most of the kids are in care because of problems, so this isn't your average soft sell. They use a great approach in the hard cases: "I can't find her/his folder; I'm sure there are no major problems."

The fact that the average kid is always placed last thing in the day minus clothes and toothbrush on the day when every store in town is closed is a big incentive to become a foster parent--it teaches you resourcefulness. I've been given kids and had to find beds. The first rule of foster care is that there are more kids than beds at any given time. The second rule is they hate whatever you serve for dinner the first night.

At the holidays, my floors are always done in colored sugar crushed jimmies; and the house smells of mittens. But what really warms my heart are the presents they make for me or buy at those school bazaars. I have wooden spoons painted in the myriad colors, Swiss knife key chains, scarves from 6 inches to 7 feet in length in glow-in-the-dark tones, and that timeless treasure--plastic casts. I've been given perfume that won't admit its country of origin and jewelry that would make Madonna self-conscious. And--I've had to WEAR IT.

What really makes it worthwhile, though, is watching a streetwise teenage girl go off to college and graduate. Or seeing the battered child blossom into a skateboarding little urchin who is feisty and outgoing. Try watching a sexually abused child who was afraid of males play in the pool with her foster dad and brothers with never a sign of hesitancy. Or seeing an angry teenager mature into a woman who is a wife and an excellent mother, or a failure-to-thrive infant who grows up and plays soccer and loves history.

So even if all my clothes have stains from the knees down due to small, grubby hands and moist noses, and even though my nights out are limited to Burger King, it's been a great time. Every now and then, when you see know they grow and blossom, giving to society--well, it makes up for a fridge covered with demented drawings. The good feelings almost overcome the living room mined with GI Joe Claymores and AK47s.

So if you're one of those who think that foster parenting is reserved for the noble, think again. It's for those who can see the future in a child eager for a start or a nudge. It's for those who like a little spice in life, a little zip to the day. Somewhere out there is a child who needs a home for a while or forever, and that child could be the one with the answers--but only if you reach out to them.