ho ho ho.
It is no big secret that I am not a big Christmas fan. It is the gift thing. I like the giving of gifts part, it is the being on the receiving end that I can’t handle. The pressure to be grateful enough, the pressure to be excited enough, I just can’t. No matter how I react, I have this self imposed guilt that I am going to give someone the impression that I don’t appreciate the gift, the thought, the time, whatever it may be. I’m just not an outwardly excited type of person. If I take the time to thank you, I mean it. The thank you isn’t followed with some gush of emotion, because, well, I just don’t know how to do that. I know a pretty common want is to win the lotto. Me on the other hand, while the cash would be fantastic, the thought of winning is comparable to that of having a cheese greater ran over my knuckles. No thanks.
Christmas brings on an entirely new set of concerns as a foster parent. Firstly, there are a lot of people up in here! Teenagers are expensive, and that doesn’t get any less true at the Holidays. While foster parents get some help from agencies as far as gifts go, you never know what’s coming until mid-December, if not later. I was chatting with another foster parent yesterday that had the gifts for her placement delivered. What Christmas dreams did the agency make come true for her placement: a new hat, a new pair of gloves, a led light strip and a plastic pretend archery set. Here kiddo, you are going to spend this holiday in a strangers house without your family, have a pair of knit gloves from the dollar bin. Ugh. Don’t even get me started that gifts show up in a trash bag. (Seems this is pretty common way to transport a kids belongings. Don’t even get me started on that.) Mind you the gifts I reference are coming from private agencies, and I am licensed via a private agency.
In years past, I have also been what’s called a borrowed bed for other agencies, including, Macomb County DHHS. I haven’t had a placement via that agency in many years, until last Friday. When in comes the giant red fabric bags with pretty tags, full of gifts, all wrapped with care. I was so happy to see them, especially when taking a placement this close to Christmas. I could have cried if I were a “normal” in touch with my feelings and willing to display them kinda gal. At least I now have one kiddo handled for Christmas. Only eight or so more to go, on a budget that now includes college tuition payments. Not to mention all the other costs no one talks about. Like a load of diabetic supplies that I will never see reimbursement for, (so I am not going to bother to ask), graduation expenses (times three) that I’m told the state will assist with, eventually, two pairs of glasses out of pocket, and a month worth of a particular medication because someone in the medicaid office decided my kiddo didn’t qualify for a refill that month. When you value your sanity, you call the pharmacist and pay out of pocket for the medication, trust me. I know someone is getting the funding for all this, that someone just isn’t me, and I’m not sure why. Anyway, so right about now, I’m pretty thankful for Macomb DHHS.
To help offset what I now know will be little help from the private agency, I spend a fair amount of time looking for other non-profits that assist with holiday gift drives for foster children. This year and last year, our local foster closet did a stocking event. I was able to pick up stockings for our placements last night, while dropping off a large load of teenage sized girl clothes for donation. If you want to help a foster parent in Macomb County, consider helping out at the foster closet, or donating, they are SOOOOOO much help. I know they have been great for me, especially with the last minute needs that you can’t really prepare for until a placement shows up. If you are going to donate, please consider the number of teenagers that make up the foster care population. The section of cute little baby clothes is giant. The section of women’s/men’s/junior’s not so much. The foster closet also accepts hygiene and personal care items. When you find yourself living in a house with up to 8 estrogen filled teenagers at a time, your bathroom looks like a Tampax warehouse. Every so often, I find that at the foster closet, too! Score. (Foster parents of teenage girls: the only section of the population over excited for free tampons.)
In other news, I only had one call from the school today, a handful of bowls have reappeared in the cabinet and I am now up to six spoons left.
