Foster Parent March

On Becoming a Foster Parent – March

On Becoming a Foster Parent By far, the most difficult month and poem to write was March. This was our turning point – the climax where our battle was at its peak. I chose a sonnet filled with war imagery to represent this change in our relationship. From here on out, the poems take on a new emotion…

Foster Parent February

On Becoming a Foster Parent – February

On Becoming a Foster Parent February was the month of ignoring bad behavior and focusing only on the good. Naturally, a calligram was in order. I started with the sentence, “I can’t hear you when you’re yelling,” and took one word away as the tantrums became less and less effective. Then as I tried to design the poem…

Foster Parent January

On Becoming a Foster Parent – January

On Becoming a Foster Parent Exhaustion sets in after the holidays. January was my month of letting things go, letting my house get messy, saying no to obligations, and trying to see the humor in the tantrums. My foster daughter turned two in January, so I decided a couplet was the answer. January The one who claims two…

Foster Parent December

On Becoming a Foster Parent – December Poem

On Becoming a Foster Parent Christmastime rolled around, and along with it came a sense of sadness for my foster daughter’s biological mom. I tried to see her as she was, and tried to imagine where her mother was and how she was feeling. I wrote her a letter, then discarded it because at that time I…

Foster

On Becoming a Foster Parent – November Poem

On Becoming a Foster Parent If you are considering becoming a foster parent, don’t let these poems scare you. It really wasn’t as terrible as it sounds, but I definitely had some emotional setbacks before feeling the joy and rewards of such a job. At this point, I am extremely thankful to have had the…

Foster Parent October

On Becoming a Foster Parent – October Poem

On Becoming a Foster Parent By October, the honeymoon was over. Our new foster daughter threw tantrums every five minutes the entire time she was awake for four straight weeks. There wasn’t one day that I didn’t want to give up. There wasn’t an hour that went by that I hadn’t shut myself in the closet to…

foster parent september

On Becoming a Foster Parent – September Poem

On Becoming a Foster Parent About this poem: September marked the beginning of becoming a foster parent to a 19 month old girl. She was beautiful, feisty, intelligent, active, and extremely loud, especially when told, “No.” The first few weeks went by without too many issues. Considering this baby had already been torn from three families…

Forget Me Not

The Things we Bury

Miriam slapped my hand, leaving a smear of mud across my knuckles. “I told you I don’t need any help. Keep those hands young.” I rolled back to a sitting position, and watched her dirt-encrusted fingernails rip a weed from the ground. Soil drizzled from between the roots. Her fingers looked like she could push…