Paul and Aimee Budrow welcome foster children with love, stability and a devotion to ‘real family’
By Ann McCreary
Sometimes they arrive in the middle of the night, frightened and disoriented. Sometimes they stay for only 24 hours, sometimes for a year or longer. And some will never leave.
For the past six years, Aimee Budrow has been taking foster children into her care, giving them love, security, and in a couple of cases, a new permanent home and family.
She has taken in about 40 children over that time, and each child becomes her own, if only for a while.
“I used to try to take a picture of each kid, to put on a wall. But I realized that I’d never have a house big enough to hang them all,” Aimee said.
She and her husband of the past two years, Paul Budrow, are the only licensed foster parents in the Methow Valley at this time. Their home is currently at the maximum allowed under state foster care guidelines, with seven children — a mix of biological, adopted and foster kids.
“All of them are my real family,” Aimee said. “DNA determines the color of your eyes and how big your feet are. But DNA doesn’t determine the elements of a family. And we are a family.”
As foster parents, the Budrows take in children who have experienced abuse and neglect, and the added trauma of being removed from their homes.
The Budrows envelop their children in warmth and stability, and a big dose of humor.
It’s helpful, said Paul Budrow, “that I have the mentality of a child.”
On a recent Sunday afternoon, the Budrow bunch gathered around a bonfire next to their house on the Methow River, south of Twisp. The children, ranging in age from 3 to 16, perched on folding chairs and boxes around the fire. They were joined for the weekend by two of Paul’s children from a previous marriage, bringing the family census to 11.
As the youngest of seven siblings, “it feels normal to have a big family,” said Aimee. “I’m sure it’s why I’m a foster parent.”
Wanted more children
Aimee began foster parenting while married to her husband of 18 years, Harry Grant, and seven years after the birth of her son, now 13. The pregnancy was made possible by in-vitro fertilization, but it was a difficult process and she didn’t think she wanted to go through it again.
Aimee knew she wanted more children, so, she decided in 2009 to become licensed as a foster parent. The experience of foster parenting has been overwhelming, heart breaking, joyful and full of surprises, she said.
“I thought it would be like Burger King. You just put in your order: ‘I want one 1-year-old and one 4-year-old.’ But of course, it didn’t turn out that way,” Aimee said with a laugh.
Any child placed into foster care has undergone trauma, if only because they have been removed from their parents and their home, Aimee said. They are “poor, wounded souls … it’s truly PTSD [post-traumatic stress syndrome]” in some cases, she said.
She often doesn’t know what circumstances have led to a child being placed in foster care when they arrive at her home.
“Even the social worker may not know a lot of the story. It may not come out for a while — the extent of the abuse, or sexual abuse, or if the parent tested positive for meth,” Aimee said.
Neglect is the primary reason a child comes into foster care, often as a result of alcohol or drug use by parents, Aimee said. The goal of foster care is always to return the child to their biological parents or other relatives, after social workers determine it is safe to do so. Still, many kids must be removed from their homes more than once, and may feel abandoned as a result.
“Parenting a foster child is not at all like parenting a child who hasn’t been in that situation,” Aimee said.
For instance, a common form of positive discipline for children is “time-out” — isolating a child briefly until the child has calmed down. That approach is not appropriate for a foster child who may already feel isolated or unwanted, Aimee said.
So she uses what she calls a “time-in” — bringing an upset or disruptive child to sit or stand right next to her, or holding the child on her lap until the child has settled down.
“Putting a child who has been abandoned in a corner is going to escalate the situation. It puts them in hyper-awareness that they are alone,” she said. “A time-in helps break the cycle of abandonment in their mind.”
May happen quickly
Most of the children placed with the Budrows come from Okanogan County. The children usually arrive within an hour or two after the Budrows receive a phone call from Child Protective Services (CPS), Aimee said.
“When they find a kid who needs to be taken from a home, that happens pretty quickly,” she said.
Sometimes children arrive in the middle of the night, she said. “They come wearing a diaper, wrapped in a blanket. If they come with clothes, I wash them and put them in a box … they’re not the kind of clothes you’d want them wearing.”
Soon after a child arrives, Aimee makes sure to buy new pajamas and clothes. “Nothing makes a kid feel better than brand-new pajamas or new clothes when you go to school. They all need a couple new outfits, then I supplement with clothes from the thrift shop,” she said.
The first week or two after placement is busy for the Budrows and the children. There are home visits from social workers, enrolling children in school, setting up required well-child checkups, and in some cases appointments with therapists. The social, emotional and educational status of each child is closely monitored by CPS.
“Most kids need some form of counseling, if only because they’ve been separated from their parents,” Paul said. “The more they’re in the [foster care] system and bouncing around, they get the feeling nobody wants them.”
Life at the Budrow home is as structured and organized as possible, in part to provide stability for the kids, and in part “to save my sanity,” Aimee said.
“It’s amazing what structure and safety and stability can provide a child,” especially one who has never experienced a sense of security in their lives, Aimee said.
Chores for all the children are listed on a board and change weekly. The family tries to eat dinner together as often as their schedule of after-school sports and other activities allows.
When things get chaotic, as they occasionally do in a family of seven children, Paul has a useful tool.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I have a loud voice. I just say, ‘Quiet!’ and things go back to a dull roar,” said Paul.
The family travels together in a big 12-seat van. “It looks like we’re electricians or plumbers. It’s not attractive,” Aimee said, adding with a laugh, “I want my Miata back!”
Sacrifices, rewards
While Aimee and Paul have given up many things — like small cars and evenings together — to be foster parents, Aimee said her 13-year-old son has shown even more generosity and selflessness. He’s given up bedroom space and time alone with parents, and accepted new children coming and going in his home, she said.
“He understands. We’ve talked about how everyone in the world should find their passion … find a way to make things better. We are changing lives every time we get a kid. He sees them come in heartbroken and frightened.”
The Budrows take vacations to places like Disneyland and Yellowstone National Park. Aimee recalled one instance when the biological parents refused to give permission for their child to travel out of the state for vacation, and the Budrows had to leave the child with another foster family.
“It broke my heart,” Aimee said.
The Budrows have had their hearts broken many times. It’s a part of foster parenting that can’t be avoided, they say.
Because the goal of the foster care system is always to return children to their biological families, the Budrows know that each child who comes into their life may leave a gaping hole when they depart.
“Some people say, ‘I could never be a foster parent. It would be too hard for me to give up the children.’ But it’s not about you. It’s about what the kids need. You’re providing what that child needs as long as you have them.” Aimee said.
“I tell myself that if I stop being attached, I shouldn’t do this job,” she said. “The kids need more than someone who will give them three meals a day. They need someone to love them.”
“They come through the door and grab your heart almost immediately,” Paul said. “You make that connection to the child. You’ve poured your heart and soul out, then you have to say, ‘See ya,’” Paul said. “Then I go out to my workshop and build something.”
After a child leaves their home, Aimee said, “I know I just need to hold on for a couple of days. Then two new kids will come.”
Among Aimee’s most emotionally difficult experiences was saying goodbye to a child who had been placed with her at 4 months old. The child stayed for a year and a half, and Aimee was close to finalizing adoption. “At the 11th hour a paternal aunt and uncle came forward” and were awarded custody of the child, she said.
In another instance, a 16-year-old girl with a child of her own was placed with Aimee. “They were both my foster children. The day she turned 18, she left my home and left her child behind.” The child went to live with grandparents.
Not for everybody
A few years ago the Methow Valley had two other foster homes, but those parents chose not to continue, Aimee said. “Foster parenting is not for everybody. The children all come with issues. They’re never all easy. It’s better you realize what your limitations are.”
Saying goodbye to their foster children is especially difficult for Paul, who is the police chief for the town of Twisp. In more than 30 years in law enforcement, he’s been involved many times in cases that required children be removed from parents who were abusive or neglectful.
“I’ve taken away the same set of kids four times,” while working in Skagit County, Paul said.
If Paul is involved in any cases requiring children to be removed from their homes in Twisp or the Methow Valley, the children will be placed with another foster family in the county, to avoid possible conflicts.
Even though most of their foster children come to the Budrows from other parts of Okanogan County, Paul is often familiar with their cases.
“I get these beautiful little children handed over to me. But he sees where they come from and what they will go back to,” Aimee said.
“This isn’t to say that their parents don’t love them,” Paul said. “None of these kids with us — I don’t believe their parents don’t love their kids. They just went down the wrong path. Whatever they were doing was more important to them at the time,” he said.
“All the kids that have come here love the fact that I’m a police officer. I say goodbye in the morning and drive off with my lights on. I go to school and have lunch with them,” Paul said.
The Budrows got married after Aimee’s first husband developed Alzheimer’s disease and was placed in a care facility. He died earlier this year.
“The fostering is a new world for me,” said Paul, who has taken care of seven foster children, in addition to the three now at home. Two of the Budrows’ children were foster children who are now legally adopted.
“We hope to adopt more children in our home if that becomes possible,” Aimee said.
In addition to his loud voice and childlike mentality, and Aimee’s organization and compassion, Paul said he and Aimee share a few other traits that help them to do the hard work of foster parenting.
“Both of us have enough love to give to those who need it. And patience — she has more than me. And selflessness. We think, ‘If it wasn’t for us, someone would have to do this,’” Paul said. “Yeah, it’s hard. But if you don’t give the kids some form of a decent life, they’ll never know it.”
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