Foster Care Facts 2013

I realize I've been an absentee blogger. My computer doesn't have a "home" anymore, so I just don't sit around like I used to. Great for the house work and kids - bad for the blogging.

May is National Foster Care Awareness Month. We adopted our oldest son through foster care, so it's something that's near and dear to my heart. I do a literal happy dance when someone tells me they're going to adopt through foster care. These kids need homes and love!

According to the childwelfare.org, the latest data I can find is for 2011, there were over 400,500 children in foster care throughout the US, almost half of which were in non-relative foster homes. And for about half of those kids, the goal is to get them back with their family.

Sadly, 6% of them - that's over 24,000 children - are in group homes. In Upstate SC, where we live, there are several children's homes that are at capacity. It breaks my heart and we regularly make donations to some local homes to help out. 

In the 2011 fiscal year over 250,000 children left foster care (yay!). Just over half (52%) went back to their parents. 20% were adopted (that's 50,000 kids), and 14% went to live with another relative or guardian.
With the kids who left foster care, 46% spent under a year in care. I'm fairly impressed with that number. I mean, ideally no kids would have to go into care, but I'm glad that it's less than a year for almost half of them. Sadly, 16% will spend more than 3 years in care.

I bet you're wondering how old these kids are. The median age for a child in foster care is 8.8 years old. That's because many of them don't get into care until they've entered elementary school. The average age of entry is about 6.5.
This is scary. My daughter is 6.5. I can not imagine her being ripped from her family, no matter how dysfunctional, and being thrown into a family dynamic she had no clue about. Can you imagine your kids doing that?

So what will become of these kids? 

Of the estimated 400,540 children in foster care on September 30, 2011:

• 52 percent had a goal of reunification with parent(s) or
• principal caretaker(s).
• 25 percent had a goal of adoption.
• 6 percent had a goal of long-term foster care.
• 5 percent had a goal of emancipation.
• 3 percent had a goal of living with other relative(s).
• 4 percent had a goal of guardianship.
• 5 percent had not yet had a case plan goal established. 
  
  
  So you can see the facts are...sad. Really sad. So many children. Over 100,000 waiting to be adopted in 2011. Did you know if all the adults in the three counties around me adopted one child, no more children would be waiting for parents in the US. And those are just the ones ready to be adopted. 
  But if you paid attention - 100,000 kids waiting. Only 50,000 were adopted. So 50,000 more kids were left waiting for a forever family.
  
  If adopting, fostering, or even doing respite care is an idea in your head, look into it. Why not? Gather information. I promise it's worth it!

The Breastfeeding Post

This is your fair warning. If the title didn't clue you in, this post is about breastfeeding.

When my daughter was born, the whole breastfeeding thing didn't happen. I had PPD, I had a colicky baby, and any time we tried breastfeeding it was at least 30 minutes of crying, and SB wasn't too thrilled either. After 2 weeks of trying and what felt like failing, my mom said I could give her a bottle - it was like a light bulb lit up. We switched to the bottle and never looked back. It was the best decision I made for both her and me.

When I had a second chance come up with Jay, I really wanted to try harder to breastfeed. I knew I could do it. I was armed with everything under the sun - special foods, vitamins, and gear to help me out. The first week was tough. He got a bottle more than he got me, but before giving up for good, I gave it one last try, and you know what? It worked. My goal: nursing for 3 months.
It worked through supply issues - Fenugreek was a life-saver. It worked through trying to get away for a while - the awesome pump I was gifted was amazing.

Jay was a champion nurser! But, that's right, I said was. At six months old we had two things happen. 1 - teeth. Two beautiful little teeth that like to bite. And, 2 - Jay thought lunch time was play time. Alternating between nursing and playing every two minutes left me, well, exposed. So bottle feeding became easier at that point. I weaned him down, switched to the bottle, and pumped for several weeks so he was still getting the good stuff until we switched him over to all formula.

So the point of this entire post is this: Feed your baby however you see fit. If you want to breastfeed for 3 months, 6 months, or 18 months...do it.And when you decide to stop, stop. It's okay. The earth will not shatter. Your baby will not suffer unduly (as long as he or she takes to the bottle all right, of course). And if you just formula-feed outright because of need or choice, that's awesome too. Formula is awesome!

As long as you are feeding your baby and he or she is growing and thriving, it's all good, however you do it.

What did you do? Chime in and share with me!

Pick Up the Poo

I can only imagine all parents deal with this to some extent - disobedience and lying. I mean, it's normal for a kid to test his or her boundaries, right?

Last week Mac decided to test his. He peed on the stairs. About 5 feet from a bathroom. And about 8 feet from another bathroom. And 9 steps and another 5 feet from another bathroom. Get the picture?

I asked him what was going on. He said he couldn't make it to any of the aforementioned potties.

Me: Oh no! Are your pants wet? (I knew this was not the case)

Mac: No.

Me: So how did you have an accident and not get your pants wet?

Mac: I pulled it out of my pants. (you know, "it," the part that pees)

Me: You had time for that but not to make it to the bathroom?

Mac: No. I just decided to pee on the stairs.

I made him clean it up, of course. But I wanted something else. Because not only did he pee on the stairs, but he lied about it.

So I told him maybe as punishment he needed to go in the yard and pick up the dog poo. I'm thinking I'm pretty smart. The punishment fits the crime and all. Besides - we have a chihuahua, he'd spend 5 minutes out there with a shovel and bucket, find nothing, and be done. I mean really - chihuahua poo is tiny and there's no telling where it might be in our big yard.

But Mac bursts into tears over this.

What on earth? I didn't think it was that bad. It's not against the law to have your kid clean up the poo from your yard, right?

I took his hand and calmly asked why he was crying.

His response: Can I at least use a NAPKIN??? **waaaaa**

I couldn't help myself. I busted out laughing. My poor boy thought I was going to make him pick up poo with his bare hands.
He was not too amused with my laughter, so I had to calm down and reassure him I would never make him touch poo with his bare hands. Then I decided that the mere idea of handling poo napkin-less was enough and let the rest of the punishment slide. 

My poor sweet boy.  I'm still laughing over this one!

Sharing the Love

Right now I'm studying Francis Chan's Forgotten God. It's a great book about following the leadings of the Holy Spirit. This week we were to go out and share the Love of Jesus with others.

This is not something I am comfortable with. At all. At all at all. And, of course, Marshall had to work. So I was alone. I know it sounds contrary to my outgoing character, but blindly witnessing to someone is not how I feel called. If I build a rapport with someone - sure. Or if the moment comes naturally... But just walking aimlessly around? Not so much.

I had planned to just donate some food to a local mission. Easy peasy. No interaction. But then we watched the little video about how someone had blindly gone to talk to someone and that person had planned on committing suicide at that very moment and - well - I didn't want to miss that kind of opportunity.

So we set out. My first thought was to "pay it forward" at a drive-through. But then I wouldn't be sharing any message. So I went where any good Southern woman would go - WalMart. I wandered around. I nervously said hi to a few people who pretty much ignored me. Now - the South is the friendliest place on earth, but you really don't mess with people while they're shopping at WalMart.

Then I got an idea. I went to the McDonald's inside WalMart (I know, I know). I got a few of those new snack-sized McFlurries and set out on my mission. Well, first, I asked the cashier if she had a home church. She said she did when she wasn't working. I handed her a card for my church and told her she was welcome to come any time.

So I set off with my ice creams and looked for a few people to share with. I happened upon a pair of teenagers sitting on a bench. They looked like they were waiting for Mom or something. I asked if they were interested in the ice cream, hoping I could invite them to the youth group. The younger one perked up, but the older one stopped and said no and put a hand out over the other teen to stop her.

Okay, so no teens. I then spotted two guys who looked like they had just gotten off a hard day's work. They were grubby to be honest. I approached and asked if they wanted the ice cream. They eyed me suspiciously. I told them they were free. One asked what the catch was. I told them no catch, just know someone was thinking about them, and I handed them the ice cream and added in the cards for our church. I told them to come any time.

Then I walked away. I'll be honest, I didn't even wait for a thank you. I just wanted to get out of dodge. But I did it.

I'm not sure if I shared the Love like I was supposed to. But it was certainly out of my comfort zone. And maybe one of those guys was having a really hard time and just needed a treat. I'll never know. But I shared!

Greek Easter

If you didn't know, I'm Greek on my dad's side. Something I am very proud of! And one of the best things about being Greek is celebrating Easter Greek-style.

If you're not familiar with Easter in the Greek tradition, let me tell you a little about it.

In Greek, we say, "Christos Anesti!" "Alithos Anesti!" It means, "Christ is Risen!" "He is Risen Indeed!" It's something we say to each other all the time in Easter Season. Of course, Christ is Risen, and saying it in Greek is fun for the kids. 

Of course, in Greek, Easter is Pascha pronounced PAHS-khah. It could also be referred to as Anastasi (ah-NAH-stah-see) meaning resurrection.

One of the best traditions of Greek Easter that really shows the true meaning of Easter - the death and Resurrection of Christ - is a game called Tsougrisma. (The word tsougrisma means "clinking together" or "clashing." In Greek: τσούγκρισμα, pronounced TSOO-grees-mah)

Each player holds a red egg (and I do mean RED), and one taps the end of her/his egg lightly against the end of the other player's egg. The goal is to crack the opponent's egg. When one end is cracked, the winner uses the same end of her/his egg to try to crack the other end of the opponent's egg.
The player who successfully cracks the eggs of the other players is declared the winner and, it is said, will have good luck during the year. 

Why do we play this game with red eggs? Well, eggs symbolize rebirth, and our rebirth as joint heirs with Jesus. Usually the eggs we eat are white symbolizing the purity of Christ, dyed red to show the blood of Christ that was shed for us. 

Give it a try with your family! I promise it will become an annual tradition!