“Growing apart doesn’t change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I’m glad for that.” -Ally Condie
The Bowden Girls
Growing Up & Being Brave
“You are growing into consciousness, and my wish for you is that you feel no need to constrict yourself to make other people comfortable.” –Ta-Nehisi Coates
Landen had a big weekend. She started Cotillion and had a 5 hour dress rehearsal for Drill Team. Lots of hair, makeup, undergarments, dresses, shoes and accessories! And I got to be with her every step of the way. I am so thankful! And so proud of the young lady she is becoming. She is kind, thoughtful, curious, observant, creative, meticulous and sensitive. Secure yet insecure. Shy yet bold. Scared yet brave. Independent yet dependent. Serious and silly.
“I don’t want to be little again. But at the same time I do. I want to be me like I was then, and me as I am now, and me like I’ll be in the future. I want to be me and nothing but me. I want to be crazy as the moon, wild as the wind and still as the earth. I want to be every single thing it’s possible to be. I’m growing and I don’t know how to grow. I’m living but I haven’t started living yet. Sometimes I simply disappear from myself. Sometimes it’s like I’m not here in the world at all and I simply don’t exist. Sometimes I can hardly think. My head just drifts, and the visions that come seem so vivid.” -David Almond
10 years ago, We Had No Idea
Ten years ago, Gregg and I lived at Shady Oaks. We had an 11 month old daughter, a 15 year old son and a 17 year old son. Gregg owned his own construction company. The latest client wasn’t paying his bills and the company was going down. I was struggling with postpartum depression (although I didn’t realize it) and an identity crisis. And we were about to embark on a journey that would test our faith, marriage, family and core being. It would also make us stronger individuals, strengthen our faith and cementing our family together for all times.
We had no idea.
It actually started to intensify 7 months earlier. Chase, 15, wanted to throw an end of year party for his friends. It had been a rough year for all of us. He hated school. Punishments didn’t motivate him. Rewards didn’t motivate him. Little did we know the path that we were all about to travel. The party for 10-15 people grew to 50 people within minutes. Food and sodas were available, music, swimming and more. But alcohol had been slipped into the party and within an hour, our house was trashed and Chase’s girlfriend was passed out on his bed. And the crew of 45-50 kids departed as fast as they had come. This was just the first sign of the trouble that was to come.
We had no idea.
Chase had always been convinced that he had ADD and needed medicine. We thought he really just wanted a magic pill because we didn’t view him as being ADD, but after the year we had had, we decided to get him tested. The testing did not show he was ADD but it did show he had an auditory learning challenge. One of the recommendations was a smaller class environment. A perfect segway to private school. We thought it would be a good re-boot. Chase started his sophomore year at a private school, 15 minutes away. Landen and I were his primary ride.
We had no idea.
November 3, 2006: Senior night at the High School football game. Mitch was being recognized as a Silver Spur. It was also the night of Chase’s first suicide attempt. Chase was grounded from going to the game and was ticked. All of Mitch’s parents were going to the halftime event. My parents had come into take care of Landen (9 mo). Sometime between dinner and 930 pm, pills were taken. And by midnight we were all at the ER wondering what had just happened.
We had no idea.
Counseling was required and our next week was all about keeping Chase alive and attending out-patient therapy. Gregg and I followed all of the counselor’s recommendations which wasn’t popular with Chase or his mom. By Christmas, Chase was done with our rules and decided to live with his mom. He also wasn’t speaking to Gregg. It was a very hard Christmas to say the least.
We had no idea how hard it was about to get.
Private school got exchanged for a new public school close to Jenny (his mom). And in January 2007, Chase started his third school in less than a year. It seemed every day, several times a day, we were on the phone with Jenny and John arguing about what was best for Chase. And then early one morning, January 21st to be exact, we got a call. Chase was being taken to the ER via ambulance. It wasn’t good. Know one knew what he had taken or how much. Gregg headed straight to the hospital. I, however, had 4 kids that night. There aren’t many people you can call in the middle of the night for help but we have those people and thank God for them. Jan and Craig got to our house around 230AM. Jan stayed with the kids so Craig and I could go to the hospital. It was BAD.
Chase was in a vegetative state and not able to speak. We didn’t know how much of what he had taken. And he was like that for 72 hours. Those next 72 hours are a blur. We had huge decisions to make without many resources. Once he did finally wake, he was broken. He begged for help. He was a scared kid and we were scared adults.
We had no idea.
We learned a lot in the next week. Like the fact that there are very few residential treatment programs that will take on a kid that have actually ‘attempted’ suicide. Even less that aren’t sterile medical places. That people would rather judge our parenting skills for having a kid that attempted rather than help us locate a place to help him. That this was a taboo topic to be open about. And many, many other things. Chase was transferred to a the Seay Center in Plano until we could figure out what to do and to get him some interim help. It is a lock down sterile facility. We had 5 days to determine our next steps.
We had no idea.
Lots of phone calls and internet research. And then we found one…in UTAH! They were willing to work with our insurance (not that it would pay much), were more residential than sterile, they didn’t promise a miracle in 30 days and they had a spot open. Eagle Ranch Academy. Chase was not thrilled. In fact, he was pretty pissed and said he wasn’t going. So Gregg gave him the option of flying and driving peacefully with us or being transported by large bouncer dudes in a van. Chase is smart…he chose to fly.
So on Landen’s first birthday, Gregg, Chase and I flew to Las Vegas and drove to ERA. We toured the facility, admitted Chase to ERA and headed back home. The tears of sadness and relief and exhaustion were constant as we drove back to Las Vegas. To know your child is in a ‘safe’ place after months of uncertainty is more than a relief. Gregg and I made it back to Vegas and had our best night of sleep in over a year.
We had no idea.
Chase spent 8 months at ERA. The treatment is student driven. And he was a tough one. There was very little communication in the first few months until he began to actually work the program. We visited a few times for family therapy and education. In the mean time, Chase turned 16, Gregg’s business went bankrupt (and he started another business), Mitch graduated from High School and I was learning how to be a stay at home mom.
In August of 2007, Chase came home. He had been doing school on-line in rehab and wanted to continue it at home. It would allow him to finish HS a year early and he was finding success with the curriculum. So we became home-schoolers. Chase was disciplined and did his schoolwork and started earning privileges back at home. He started dating a CHS girl and we started doing a lot of painting and photography. And for 20 months, Chase was sober.
Then in the Fall of 2008, he disappeared during the night, drove to Colorado and began another difficult path. He wasn’t allowed to live with us after that. He bounced around to his mom’s house and friends houses for a while. He lived out of his truck for a long time. And we didn’t know where he was most of the time. We said he could visit if he was sober and we were home, but that wasn’t often.
The spring of 2010, he hit a lower level (not bottom) and was feeling suicidal again. Gregg was working in Houston during the week. Landen was 4 and Reece was almost 1. The girls were at preschool and I was talking with Chase on the phone. Then a few texts and no response. I started driving. All I had to go on was that the cops were there and it was somewhere in the neighborhood behind Mooyah. I found him. He was tired, sad and broken. I called Gregg, called the airline and put him on a plane to Houston.
Chase lived with Gregg for a few months. He worked on a construction site and trying to remain sober. Having a place to sleep, food to eat and clothes to wear allowed him to breathe a bit. But that didn’t last long. He got tired of the rules and the structure. So he headed back to Coppell. I think he actually lived with Jenny for a while after that and tried the whole work, sober-ish living. But living in someone else’s house under their rules was not his strength, so he went back to the streets.
By 2011, he had a restaurant job and was consistently working and pulling himself together. He got an apartment with a friend and was able to pay his bills and eat. And he started to see the value of sobriety. He started coming around a bit and talking about wanting more in life. By 2012, we were able to connect him with a job in the kitchen at private school with a great friend. He did great at the routine and the job. The people around him were supportive and encouraging. He began to use less and work more.
I will never forget the day in the Spring of 2013, when Chase mentioned going back to school. He had already had 2 chances at the local community college with our money and had not finished either semester. We told him if he wanted to go back to school he would need to pay for it first and then we would re-imburse him once he completed the course with a decent grade. He dreaded going to the community college but he wanted an education. I challenged him to open his options up and look outside of the community college. It blew his mind. He had never thought of that. He didn’t respond for a few weeks after our conversation.
Chase’s latest girlfriend was headed to SCAD in the fall of 2013. He wanted to go as well. He didn’t have a resume, a portfolio or a good track record at anything. It was the first time we had seen him excited about anything in a very long time. So we walked him thru the process of applying. It was a long shot but if he wanted to try, we would walk beside him. It was the first time he followed through on the steps of the ‘system’. And he was rejected, however there was one option. He could prove himself at the university. IF he paid full tuition AND lived in the dorms, he could attend SCAD for a quarter. IF he made good grades, he would be admitted to the university. We leaped.
Gregg and Chase visited the campus and fell in love with Savannah and SCAD. And by March of 2013, I was moving Chase into his dorm at SCAD.
Chase has always been a creative and intelligent person. He is sensitive, loving and caring. He is considerate and kind. He is persuasive and easily persuaded. He looks at the world differently than most and always felt like an outsider. He had found his place with the mis-fits, the druggies and the disadvantaged. But this opportunity would help him find his place in academia, in creative expression and in hands on results. It had everything he needed, academia that could relate to the artist, the intensity to demand attention and results and the hands on application to cultivate hidden talents. It fed his self confidence, his brain, his creativity and his curiosity.
And in June of 2016, Chase graduated from SCAD with a degree in Service Design.
Ten years ago, we had no idea we would ever see this moment. We had no idea we would get the privilege of traveling this path. We had no idea that we could or would love him even more. We had no idea how it would change our life as a family, as friends and as individuals. We had no idea we would be so thankful.
The Truth
The truth is, I drink too much alcohol for my soul.
The truth is, I drink too much alcohol for my soul. WOW, big truth there. I have struggled with thinking that I drink too much but then I justify it. I don’t drink until I pass out. I don’t drink until I throw up. I don’t HAVE to have it everyday, I WANT to. I don’t get the shakes if I stop for a couple of days. I have known alcoholics and I don’t drink nearly as much as they do.
justify: to prove or show to be just, right, or reasonable – Merriam-Webster Dictionary
So how much do I drink daily? Anywhere from 2 glasses to a bottle of wine. Whew I said it. Some may think that’s a crazy amount and others may think it’s nothing. And the truth is it may not make me an alcoholic but what I have finally figured out is that it is too much for my soul and it’s a habit that must be broken.
My drinks involve vodka or wine and i love to socialize around either. To celebrate or to commiserate…there is always a good excuse to drink wine. But it’s gotten out of control. Now drinking wine is like drinking water. It doesn’t seem as special anymore. Now it goes all evening. It numbs my brain and relaxes my body. I would say it’s not every night but it is more nights than not. I have taken something that I love the taste of and turned it into a habit or dare I say a god? The truth is i don’t enjoy it anymore because I have taken it too far for me. I am drinking too much for my soul.
abuse: improper or excessive use or treatment – Merriam-Webster Dictionary
And i just described the word abuse. WOW. <deep breath>
A New Normal
Entering the ‘new normal’ is a process. Of course it depends on what ‘old normal’ you care coming from.
I feel as if I’m coming out of a battle and not really feeling like I won (the battle or the war). So I’m feeling a bit tired, sad and sore. I’m also feeling a bit thankful, appreciative and to be honest a bit nervous about the next ‘normal’.
We have chosen to take a full year off from fostering. It’s hard to fathom yet I am ready for the break. We have taken breaks here and there over the last 3 years but the longest has been 5 months and that was due to my surgery.
Coping Mechanisms
I got whacked in the face yesterday by two ideas. And they both stung.
- I can’t remember a time when i wasn’t taking care of someone. And yesterday it was proposed that maybe caretaking isn’t always an expression of love and sometimes the caretaking is about the caretaker…in a selfish way. WHOA! HOLD the phone! I get that concept and I have seen it in others but I have never thought of myself like that. Is caretaking a coping mechanism for me? Has it always been and does it continue to be a survival tool? Has it become counter productive?
- Do I use ‘victim’ language when I don’t meet my personal goals? Do I take a passive voice as if I don’t have control over my time or actions? It was proposed that instead of staying in touch with my power to choose, I somehow let go or give up when it revolves around choosing ‘me’. I put everyone else and every other thing before me. Am I collaborating with an old Krista? One that is undervalued? Do I self sabotage? By adding to my list continually and minimizing down time?
Foodies
“There is no love sincerer than the love of food.” -George Bernard Shaw
I love my foodies. I love watching them analyze, discuss, theorize and execute recipes. I love the excitement in their eyes. I love the bonding. I love the results. Joy all around.
Joy filled Flight
“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.” -Thich Nhat Hanh
“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” -Leonardo da Vinci
‘fly me with your feet, momma…please’
trying is succeeding
contagious giggles
guttural giggles
everlasting joy
irreplaceable memories
‘fly me with your feet, momma…please’
-kdm
LL Cool Baby
LL Cool Baby was hard to care for and hard NOT to fall head over heals in love with. He came to us at 2 weeks (after NICU). By 4 weeks he was re-admitted to the hospital with a major UTI (into his bladder and kidneys). And by 6 weeks he was starting with upper respiratory and reflux issues. Yet he was growing and developing (slowly) and just look at those cheeks and the twinkle in his eye. He had us all wrapped!
Unfortunately, his health didn’t get any better as the girls started into school for the Fall and I started chauffeuring to after school activities. Development delays were in full bloom. (He was born at 35 weeks.) I kept thinking surely it would get better. WE (the Doctors and I ) would figure out what his underlying health issues were and fix him up and we would move on down the road. But that didn’t happen. Instead it was a constant stream of Doctors appointments and ER visits. Medicine prescribed and failed. Virus they would say. Breathing treatments. And through the entire time, he kept getting worse. He sounded like Darth Vader on a good day.
The baby that could be soothed if distracted or held, couldn’t be soothed anymore. He would go into fits of rage and be inconsolable. This would happen several times a day for up to an hour each time. The baby that we would get smiles from, who was close to rolling over, was grabbing at toys and swinging with Gregg, was miserable. And the worst part was that I didn’t know how to help him. Medical professionals were throwing out theories but nothing was helping. His oxygen level would look normal when tested so he must be just a ‘fussy baby with a virus’. ARGH!
Then one day in early December I had a revelation. LL and I were finally at the Pulmonology Clinic. (2 months wait list) Of course, when we arrived at the Pulmonologist, everyone was concerned about his breathing. (duh…me too) Medical professionals are swarming around us to get him a breathing treatment and take his puls ox. And then I made the fatal mistake…I told them he had Rhino Virus. And then all they could think about was Rhino. We were in that examination room for 4 hours. Two things came out of that exam room: a cool nose sucker and my realization that I had to let LL go. He had become 100% of my time. And while I loved him and wanted to advocate for him and help find a diagnosis, I was neglecting myself and my family and I needed to advocate for LL in a different way.
There are different levels of care within the foster care system. (Basic, Moderate, Specialized, Intense) We are ‘basic’ level care home.
LL had exceeded the basic level of care and needed to be moved to a moderate (preferably medical) home. When we got home from the specialist office, I called the caseworker and yelled ‘calf rope’. Then I proceeded to write and email to formally request his removal and re-location.
calf-rope: to give in, surrender
When i was little, my dad would play tickle monster with me. He would be the ticket monster and the only way I could get him to stop tickling was by saying ‘calf rope’. Well, I hated to say ‘calf rope’ because it meant giving up. I wanted to be able to wiggly out and away and ‘beat’ the tickle monster. I never want to surrender.
That’s when the really hard stuff started. I requested he be moved within 7 days. The things I learned about levels of care after requesting removal:
- The state legally has 30 days to re-locate a child unless said child is inflicting harm to themselves or our family.
- In order for his level of care to be changed, paperwork has to be submitted with medical backup and then approved by directors.
- CPS only supports basic level homes.
- In order for a child to be labeled medical they must have a machine hooked to them 24 hours a day.
I began to unravel. Did I mention it was Christmas time? Or that Chase had moved home and then to NYC? Or that Mitch and Liz had moved home? Or that LL was crying ALL the time? Or that G was traveling?
When I submitted the formal request to remove LL, I felt like I was saying ‘calf rope’. I had spent every last bit of energy and effort and I didn’t have any more to give. So after a visit with LL’s caseworker telling me that there weren’t any homes and that he might have to come live in her office or be taken to a shelter, and 10 days out from the request, I called our FAD caseworker. I pleaded with her to find someone. She called back with her Supervisor and that is when things got ugly.
A lecture about the ‘quality’ of children in the foster care system and my ability to care for them would not be received well at any time. But a lecture from OUR FAD workers Supervisor on a day when I am more than overwhelmed sent me over the edge….to the ugly cry/rage. To inconsolable disbelief. To calling G. To G and I getting on the phone with the Supervisor so that he could clear things up because to say ‘I lost it’ was an understatement.
Fourteen days into the request, I got the call they had found a placement. It was a Wednesday and they were moving him on Friday. Great! I had just left to take Landen shopping and we would have enough time to pack him up and say goodbyes. About 10 minutes passed and the caseworker calls back. They have to move him today by 5pm, should she send a transporter or do I want to bring him to her office? So much for shopping. Landen and I headed home to pack.
We had him packed up within a couple of hours and then G and the girls helped us load up and I took him to South Dallas to the caseworkers office. It was hard but I knew it was for the best. We got to the office and she was’t ready and needed to finish paperwork. So I sat and played with him and tried to feed him. They were going to move him to a family in Henderson, TX. I didn’t know where that was and I really didn’t question anything about the placement because I expected that CPS would be placing him according to what was best for HIM: A moderate level home that had a lot of medical experience and had the flexibility to take him to all of his specialist appointments.
There are certain looks that kids can give you that can break your heart. When their eyes show fear and are looking for you to comfort them is one of the worst. When I got LL loaded in the caseworkers car to head to his new home, he gave me that look. The look that he knew he was being separated from the momma he had known for 6 months and he was scared. It can actually rip a part of your heart I think.
I wailed.
I was so relieved when the caseworker texted later that evening to say that the foster parents were both nurses. Yea God!
The evening was spent snuggling my girls and gregg, eating pizza and watching a movie. The next day I was doing pretty good. I was cleaning out baby stuff to lessen the clutter. I really felt (still feel) like God had his hand in moving him to an unofficial medical home. And I was moving on with the girls. Reece had a friend over and Landen’s friend was headed over. I was going to take all the girls to ice skate at the Galleria. Everyone was excited as we headed to Dallas.
And then, LL’s caseworker called. The caseworker had taken LL from his parental visit and was headed to ER. The new foster family had been up all night with him and were very concerned about his major respiratory distress, but they were headed to a family event. So the caseworker decided to take him to the ER and ‘not leave until she had answers’. Of course, she didn’t know anything about his medical history so she called me.
One of the hardest things as a foster parent is letting go. No matter how long the child has been in your care, it is hard to let go. It’s even harder when the child is sick and you have been in the trenches with them for 6 months. So when the caseworker called, I immediately wanted to head to the ER and comfort LL. He had been with strangers for the past 24 hours and he was still physically feeling lousy. But I was on track with my kids to go Ice Skating. I was torn. While the caseworker had said I could come to the ER, I had talked with Gregg and Julie and they discouraged me from going. Julie said that the hospital wouldn’t let me in see him because I had no legal rights and Gregg said I needed to let go. And I’m pretty sure a bit of my heart ripped deeper. So a 6 month old baby in a strange place with strangers, feeling horrible and wondering where did my momma go?
It still hurts to think about it.
I stayed with the plan to ‘play’ with my girls. Ice Skating didn’t work out but we managed to salvage the afternoon by making a mess in the kitchen.
The next morning I received a call from the new foster family. They had not intended for the caseworker to take LL to the ER or for the hospital to keep him. They thought they were coming to Dallas for a visit and family event. So they didn’t have my number but called as soon as they could. Bonnie is a pediatric nurse and her husband is an ER nurse. They have 5 children and are adoption motivated. THANK YOU GOD! When they accepted placement of LL they were told he was healthy with one specialist and up for adoption. Once he came into their home, they learned the truth. They are 2.5 hours away from Children’s Medical and realized that this kid has lots of medical needs. They immediately submitted for him to be relocated.
Why on earth would CPS place a medically needy child so far from the best medical care in North Texas?
So LL was admitted to the hospital on December 22 and didn’t get out until the evening of the 24th. Doctors said he had the Rhino Virus again. And CPS changed their mind and wouldn’t let me visit. And all I could think about for those 48 hours was…a 6 month old baby that is in the hospital AGAIN, but this time with out his ‘momma’… Instead he is being ‘monitored’ by a stranger. Even without his new foster parents because they are 2.5 hours away. And I felt like my heart might actually burst.
Bonnie, the new foster mom, was able to pick him up the evening of the 24th and take him home with her. He remained with her until January 6 when he was moved to another foster home. During his brief stay with Bonnie, she was able to get him to breath better. She regulated his breathing treatments and got him into a pediatrician that was actually able to remove and dry up some of his mucus. She figured out that depending on how he was positioned determined his oxygen quality level and she was able to start him on a new asthma medicine. She also knows the new foster parents and they have another child that has respiratory issues so they feel very comfortable caring for him.
I don’t doubt that God has been in LL’s life from the beginning. I don’t doubt that he continues to comfort him and care for him and guide his path. And I believe He is with our family as well in this fostering journey. I do wish it wasn’t such a painful process.
We all loved LL Cool Baby and still do. He is a special little boy. He is sweet, cute, loving and strong willed. I will pray for him always. He has a piece of my heart forever but I am still healing from his departure.
Home Alone
The girls are at school. Gregg is headed to the airport. Mitch and Liz are in their new apartment for the first time last night. Chase is in Brooklyn and we don’t have a foster kid. I am officially hope alone at 8 am on a Monday. And I am emotional. I am intentionally trying to feel this moment. I am not making to-do lists or cleaning, I am feeling. And its weird.
I am intentionally taking time. Enjoying space. But I haven’t done it in so long it feels awkward. This is my revelation.
I have no words of wisdom. No epiphanies. Just quiet and time.
‘Revelation is a terrible thing…because once you see, you cannot unseen.’
Life on this Roller Coaster 