Taking in
teenagers? No way! They are unpredictable, impossible to
control, and maybe even dangerous! I am
more than willing to care for babies and toddlers, and I would consider
fostering school-age kids, but definitely no teenagers! Such was my perspective when my husband and I
first began our foster parenting journey almost 17 years ago. And actually, who would have blamed me? Getting used to being a mother is challenging
enough, but at least when you have a baby, you get a chance to become secure in
your parenting role as the baby grows and matures through the different stages
of childhood. But to jump right into the
parenting experience with a teenager?
That would have been incredibly overwhelming for even the bravest adult!
Okay, so this is, like, so
lame! You would think that after
spending most of my 16 years in this stupid foster care system, that changing
homes and getting to know different families would be no big deal. But really, it’s not like it’s getting any
easier. I mean, how am I supposed to
even know what to expect any more? Is
this placement going to last just a few months like the last one? It’s such a bummer that I won’t even get to
stay at the same school this time! And I
hate my social worker! She didn’t even
let me say goodbye to my boyfriend!
I first met
her at a family event that our agency had planned. She had recently moved in with a foster
mother that I knew, a fairly inexperienced single woman who had agreed to take
this difficult-to-place teenager. When
we were introduced, I could tell from the girl’s sullen expression, her arms
folded tightly across her chest, and her mumbled responses, that this party was
the last place on earth she wanted to be.
My heart
gave a brief flutter of compassion when I learned of her sad life in the foster
care system, her birthmother always doing just barely enough to prevent her
parental rights from being terminated, but never quite enough to prove she
could be responsible for raising her daughter.
It’s so annoying when people ask me
personal questions. Like I really want
to talk about the fact that I’ve never had a permanent family. Sometimes when I’m by myself I try to remember
how many different homes I have been in, but I’ve pretty much lost count. Maybe 10, but it could have been 12. Anyway, who cares?! And I really hate answering questions about
my mom. People always think she’s some
loser who couldn’t take care of me, but I know she’s really been trying. The last time I heard from her she said that
she has a new job, so maybe soon I’ll be able to live with her again. Ugh!
How much longer do I have to listen to these people? I really wish we could just leave so I can go
back to my new room and be left alone.
Despite
that small stirring of sympathy I felt for her, I mostly remember thinking how
brave that woman was, welcoming this aloof, sulky teen into her home. Wasn’t it uncomfortable always trying to make
conversation with someone who obviously didn’t want to talk? Thank God I’m not in that situation! I truly love my little foster kids, and I’m
even learning to relax about the tantrums and messes. I’m just really glad that God has called OTHER
people to care for the bigger kids!
