Monthly Archives: October 2024

Not giving up but letting go and renewing a sense of purpose

I’ve been deeply reflective and feeling pensive about the foster care system for the last few days.

I shared with my social worker earlier this week how difficult it’s been for the last several months; I’m constantly dealing with emotional outbursts and one particular child who is seemingly oblivious to boundaries; it’s very draining and demands enormous patience. Ds7’s behavior has gotten quite obnoxious and all of us are finding it hard to be around him. (The therapist was happy to hear about this and told me they usually hope to see these behaviors at 2 – 3 years after placement so he’s ahead of schedule at less than a year and a half; I laughed and told her she’ll be even happier to know that dd7 is doing the same kind of things but less often.) It’s challenged me because there are things I have no tolerance for – specifically disrespect to parents – and his behaviors trip over that.

With the schools being closed and no other outlets outside of the home available due to the war, I’ve been stretched thin emotionally.

Usually I’m allotted additional babysitting hours during the summer or holiday months from the foster care agency. Since the kids can’t go to school because of the war, I requested additional hours, but this time was told I could have only a minimal number of hours, with the explanation that implied that I didn’t deserve more. I told the social worker I understand if they don’t have the funding now because everyone wants extra hours, but it’s very frustrating and invalidating to get the response I did, and I wonder if they understand the reality of living with emotionally needy and intense children.

I reminded her that we committed to what we were told would be involved, but more and more continues to be demanded of us without any additional support or even understanding of the difficulty of what we’re being asked to do being recognized.

She responded that she genuinely understands and any time it’s too much for us, I can tell her and they’ll rehome the twins (the likely placement would be to an institution).

I don’t know if the intention was to be reassuring – this is the second time I was told this, the first was after the harassment from the guardian ad litem – but I really wasn’t happy with this response.

I said very sharply, I’ve never said I want to find a new home for them, that’s not at all my intention and that’s not the point of anything I’ve said. Don’t you see the absurdity of spending 10 – 20,000 shekels a month on a dormitory school per child, but there’s not enough funding for even a few hundred shekels a month for respite for foster families, especially when everyone knows the outcome will be much better with a family than for children placed in institutions??

I’ve come to the realization that as well-intended as some in the foster care system are, the system itself is not there to help or support me as a foster parent – and that’s not the primary goal for foster children, either; in fact, their policies can work against the wellbeing of children. I see this again and again, that in the focus on minutiae the big picture is lost.

Here’s an example. The above conversation began when I was notified a couple of days ago that ds7 and dd7 won’t be getting therapy in school due to a shortage of in-school providers, despite the expectation that would be available for them. I was informed that as a result of this, I need to take them privately. To do that, I need to take each child to therapy, then drive them afterward to school, which is an hour away, and then come back home. That would be one entire morning every week of my time spent on one therapy appointment, for just one child.

But there are two children, so it’s not one morning, it’s two mornings. My schedule is already filled with commitments (like weekly speech therapy for ds7 and ds12 that takes one full morning, therapeutic horseback riding two afternoons a week and regular orthodontist appointments for two children). I have to go to parenting sessions as a foster parent because of the challenging situation we’re in so as to document our case and protect ourselves. That’s also hour away, every other week. Every other week I take the kids for visitation with their parents in the morning because there are no longer after school hours available at the mediation center, and then have to drive them to school. That’s four hours each time, so two more mornings gone.

I don’t have two mornings a week to dedicate to therapy. It’s not a question of unwillingness. I simply can’t. I told her I only have Friday mornings available – this isn’t exactly a free day; it’s the only day that my husband and I have that we don’t have commitments other than Shabbos preparations. Last year dd7 stayed home from school every Friday because I had to take her to therapy, and I’ve been really, really looking forward to some relief from that. While I offered to take them both on Fridays, which will take up my entire Friday morning and necessitate making all of my Shabbos preparations the day before, I can’t take two children to two different therapists in two different areas at the same time and the working hours on that day are limited. (Currently dd’s therapist is reaching out to other therapists in her area to see if anyone has availability so I could coordinate them both at a similar hour.)

There’s no possibility of anyone agreeing to them not having weekly therapy, because the law says the kids need to get it, and this is a good thing. It really is. They deserve every bit of support they can get.

What’s not good is that the system loses sight of the forest for the trees – if I can’t get them to their appointments, then I’m not fulfilling the necessary requirements as a foster parent. It isn’t relevant that we are a home that provides much more therapeutic emotional support than is usually available for foster children, and as a result, the children have been doing much, much better than the norm. In order for them to get a weekly 45 minute session of play or art therapy, they would be placed somewhere else if we can’t take them to these appointments – and this is intended to benefit the child. But when looking at the whole picture, it brings up the question if that really is to their benefit?

I can twist myself more and more into a pretzel to do all the things I’m told I need to do, none of which are unreasonable but have become very burdensome for me when taken as a whole. It’s hard to add these things in when the schedule for the year was planned and committed to, each activity having been considered for the value it brings and the price it will exact, before I was told about the changes for therapy and visitation that necessitate at least an additional ten hours a week of my active involvement.

Or I can tell them to take the kids and I’ll go back to living my more peaceful life that was quite full but had more white space.

But there’s no point in talking to anyone in the system, in sharing my thoughts or opinions or experience about anything. I thought that communicating would have some benefit, that some adjustments could be made, there would be some understanding or willingness to adapt or find solutions, but now it’s clear that they really have no help to offer except to rehome the twins. They aren’t being callous or unfeeling to offer that – it’s literally the only way they can offer support. It would devastate the kids and everyone knows that, but nonetheless that’s the only offer.

I’ve felt disappointed that due to the extremely full days with the kids home I haven’t had time to do a yearly cheshbon hanefesh, a spiritual review of the past year and make a plan for the areas I want to work on in coming year. But working through so much to move past the compassion fatigue and burnout, to remind myself why I’m doing this, and to renew my commitment to be the best parent I can to all of our children is my spiritual process at this time.

G-d knows I’m doing my best in a challenging situation. There’s so much I want to be doing that I can’t do, and I’ve had to work on letting go and putting to the side what I wanted to be doing at this time. I’m accepting that G-d has different plans for me than what I planned for myself. I can fight it and be frustrated and annoyed that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be, this isn’t what I committed to, this isn’t how I want to be using my time. Or I can go with the flow and consider that there are new ways to grow and learn that will benefit me on this path that I’m surrendering to.

The therapist gave me a gift today, a book called The Man Who Planted Trees. She said since the first time she met me she’s been continually reminded of this story when speaking to me. (Here’s a free pdf of the book – it’s a short and inspiring story.) It’s about planting seeds for the future at a time that those efforts seem small and unlikely to effect change, while holding on to the vision of the future results you want to have; small and consistent effort in the direction of your goal will yield beautiful results.

May we individually and collectively experience the coming year as one of peace and abundance of all sorts.

Avivah

The war is on and the kids are home

As residents of the north we are affected by the war with Lebanon, though thankfully here in Yavneel not too dramatically so.

I’m grateful we haven’t had any sirens, though we do hear and see the missile interceptions. (**Edit at end of post) I feel like we live in a cocoon of safety; the adjoining towns have had sirens and even missiles landing, but we’re in a blessed island of safety. At the store today I chatted briefly with a woman who lives a twenty minute drive from me, who told me a missile fell on her next door neighbor’s home. But for us, our involvement has been limited to hearing the interceptions.

Here are more interceptions again as I’m writing this – three, four, five, six, seven, eight…nine. It sounds like that’s it for this round. I’ve only counted nine or ten at a time but on this same day my son heard and saw twenty two in one round. It’s miraculous that there have been so few injuries and I feel Hashem’s protective hand over us all.

I wasn’t talking to my children about the war because I didn’t think it’s necessary at that point but then a neighbor’s child was here when the booms of the interceptions happened, and he started excitedly exclaiming, “They’re shooting missiles!” The twins ran after him and repeated what he said very excitedly. Then ds7 stopped and asked me, “What does ‘shooting’ mean?” I wasn’t appreciative to have this concept introduced to them but now that it’s been said, it had to be addressed.

Before the kids weren’t aware of what the loud noises were – a new home began being built right across from us on the Sunday morning that the war began, and since since the machinery was so very loud, they didn’t realize that the sounds in the sky were something different from the heavy equipment. But now they’ve become aware of the interceptions, which in Hebrew are called ‘boomim'(booms).

I explained the booms by telling them, “Those are the sounds of Hashem protecting us.” Whenever we talk about anything related to the war, I keep it very low key. My message is, everything is okay and we’re not going to get excited about it. Kids take their cues from the adults around them, so it’s important not to project anxiety because they pick up on it and internalize it.

School hasn’t been in session in the north for the last week and a half, and no one has any idea when the kids will be returning to school. Three of the younger four kids have Zoom classes set up but I’m not interested in having our children participate. I don’t have any positive feelings about young children using Zoom as a substitute for school. Zoom is a decent option for adults who are very interested and motivated in their learning, though nothing compares to in person learning. But for kids, particularly in the earlier grades? I can immediately see their energy become more frenetic and disorganized when they get on a Zoom call.

Ds7.5’s teacher set up a phone line where she leaves a recording each day for the students, and they can call in and listen at their convenience. I like that much more. A couple of times I called for ds7.5, and he enjoyed hearing his teacher greet each child individually and then he davened out loud with the recording. I’ve only called in twice, and each time he listened for under ten minutes before he asked to hang up.

The kids have asked why they aren’t going to school, and I explained that there are children who would be scared if they were far away from their parents when they heard the booms, so all the children are staying home until there are no more booms. That was easy for them to understand.

After my posts about my appreciation of my schedule, now that’s all changing. It’s not only school that is cancelled. Our speech sessions are in an area where they are having a lot of sirens, and the therapist told me it’s not safe for us to come. I thought we’d be able to continue with horseback riding since it’s just a ten minute drive from here, but they are acting in accordance with the security recommendations for the north and also cancelled.

A couple of weeks ago I decided I wanted to dissemble the pool since the weather is getting cooler, and my son finished taking it down first thing last Sunday morning – yes, the first morning of the war. Now the kids are home, the temperatures are close to 100 degrees and they are so irritable. When we took the pool down, I thought that if the weather shifted and got hot again, I’d take the kids to the Kinneret. But now the beaches are closed because of the war, so that’s not an option.

During covid I embraced everyone being home for an extended time and deeply appreciated that period. That’s not my experience now.

Last year was very challenging for a number of reasons and most days at least one child stayed home with me. That was followed by a long summer with everyone home that demanded a lot of patience on my part. It wasn’t an easy year and it wasn’t an easy summer. I’ve gotten through it all with a good attitude but have very much looked forward to everyone being in school and having time to myself.

When the cancellation of school was announced, I couldn’t find any feelings of positivity about it, and I didn’t want to try to be positive. I was frustrated and resentful that my long awaited time was being stolen from me. After a couple of days I realized I needed to let myself feel the disappointment and everything else that was flooding me, before I could move into acceptance of the reality.

I’ve done some journaling about my concerns about losing this time, my distress about of losing my momentum and even my motivation to pursue my other goals, my fear that I’ll never do those things. I let myself be with that for a couple of days, and every day have been more able to be with the kids without thinking about what I should be doing instead percolating in the back of my mind.

At this point I’m in a place of acceptance. I’m letting go of expectations for myself and what I thought I would do, and also for the return to school. Maybe after Rosh Hashana the kids will go back to school. Maybe this will be a long term situation. No one knows. I’m able to honestly say I’m okay with that now.

Am I embracing having them home? Not yet. I’m at a stage that parenting is demanding and intensive, and takes a lot of emotional and physical energy. One child in particular is challenging from the minute he wakes up and it takes a lot of conscious effort to stay loving towards him. Right now he’s having a time-in with me, sitting in my room with me as I write this, stroking the dog as I have relaxing music playing in the background. It’s been twenty minutes so far and he’s finally moving from defiant and obnoxious to calming down and becoming sweet again. At 8 am, this is the first intervention for him of the morning, but it won’t be the last.

Acceptance is a good place to be for now.

** Edited to add – Ten hours after writing this, numerous ballistic missiles were sent from Iran. As I got home from errands, I saw them in the sky and heard them exploding before I the warning siren sounded to go to a safe room. Thank G-d, we continue to witness unfathomable miracles – how can there be so few deaths after a countrywide barrage like we just experienced? I will be going into Rosh Hashana with heightened appreciation and gratitude for Hashem’s overwhelming kindness. May we all have a good, safe year of many blessings!!**

Avivah