Foster parenting can feel a lot like getting on a to the moon and back fostering. The world is a confusing place. One minute you are on solid ground and the next you’re trying to navigate the cosmos. No manual, no automatic system of navigation, only the heart, which is full of love and hope with a dash of fear.
Imagine a small stranger entering your home. They don’t really know you, and neither do you. It’s just like hosting a foreigner–culture shocks, communication barriers, mutual hesitancy, etc. are common. It’s the awkward moments that are magical. Remember when Timmy offered his broken toy timidly? When Sarah wrote you a handwritten thank-you in a shaky handwriting, do you remember? These small moments, even though they may seem insignificant, are important. They represent trust being built, layer by layer, over many years, just as moon dust is formed.
The once stilted and sparse conversations at midnight begin to flow. While stargazing, you may find yourself talking to your foster child. They may share their dream to become an astronaut or simply talk about their favorite flavor of ice cream. You will be rewarded with these moments, a constellation in your sky.
There are days when you don’t see stars. There are moments of fear, frustration or overwhelming sadness. You may remember the time when your foster child came to you angry and for no apparent reasons, or the time they cried themselves into sleep. You can feel your spirit dwindle when you experience such moments. What keeps you grounded? It’s the knowledge that they see you as their moon. Their home in a vast and chaotic life.
Have you ever experienced a misfire in a rocket launch? Sometimes foster parenting is like that. Some days, your plans can fall through and you may end up eating cereal as dinner rather than the spaghetti you made after spending an hour cooking. You may have weeks filled with school meetings, appointments at the doctor’s office, or emotional meltdowns. It is chaotic and messy, but it’s worth every minute.
We can’t pretend that everything is roses, or even moon dust. You’ll have to deal endless paperwork, bureaucratic redtape, and visits by social workers. Imagine you are knee-deep with forms. Half of them make no sense. You answer the phone and find out that your school has called to request an urgent parent/teacher meeting. Your first thought was? Can’t I be alone on the Moon !?”. One of my foster parents gave me the best piece of advice I’ve ever received: “Dance in rain. It will make sunshine feel better.” Although it may sound corny, this is actually true.
It is surprisingly comforting to talk with other foster parents. It can be surprisingly comforting to share battle stories over coffee. You might hear about a father who stays up all night to comfort an upset child, or a mother who bakes cookies for foster children because they smell the cookies and feel safe. These stories not only inspire, they also let you know that you aren’t alone on your cosmic adventure.
Humor helps, too. When you tried to make a dish and accidentally triggered the fire alarm. The dog went into a barking fit and your foster kids were in fits of laughter. When your foster child decided to make the cat a spaceship out of aluminum foil and cardboard. This is the type of memory that becomes family folklore.
It is important to accept your imperfections. You have to be there, show up, and try again even if exhausted. You might not feel ready or prepared. For example, an astronaut may train in a virtual environment before realizing that space is unpredictable. It is not important to be perfect. The goal is to be present.
Fostering is a long journey. It is about bumps, detours and, sometimes, crash landings. The journey is unpolished but real. It’s marked by moments of small, shining joy that make it worthwhile. Although intimidating, the night skies are breathtaking. Your role as foster parent is shining brightly in the celestial dark, like a beacon of love and unwavering faith.