Day 30 of NaBloPoMo

Finally, the end of National Blog Posting Month is here. Some days I posted crap and I apologize for that. There were many topics which I had planned to write about but ended up completely winging it. Oh well, I can always write about them later. I'm good at procrastinating.

What do you say to people who ask questions about your foster/adoptive kid's birth family?

How do you tell someone, say a family member or well-meaning acquaintance, that you aren't supposed to share information about foster kids? I've tried saying that to people, but they ultimately make a comment about how they just don't understand why anyone would not want their baby or how drugs will make people do stupid things. I feel the need to correct them when they make assumptions about drugs or birth parents not wanting the child, and the only way to correct them is to say "no, his birth parents wanted him, still want him, and he was not born drug positive". But that is revealing information about him, right?

I didn't mind telling people why BabyBoy was in care until I read something in a book recently that said later on when the child grows up, especially in the teenage years, they may not want their personal information all out there willy nilly. The example the book gave was a girl who had been sexually abused but had gone through therapy and was well adjusted. The adopted parent's friend had a teenage son who told all the other kids at school about the sexual abuse. The girl became known as the SA or sexually abused girl. Not out of maliciousness but still, it was a private part of her life that she should have been able to share if/when she chose.

Open Adoption Experience by Lois Ruskai Melina and Sharon Kaplan Roszia suggests saying "I think we should give information about Jason's birth parents to Jason before we give it to other people, and then what he reveals about his birth parents will be his choice." I tried saying this recently, perhaps it was my body language or tone of voice, but I apparently came across as rude.

So what do you say to people who ask questions regarding your foster/adoptive child(ren)'s birth family and/or reasons for being in foster care or up for adoption?

Day After Thanksgiving Sale

We're getting up at the butt crack of dawn (actually it's still dark out) to score a couple of good deals. I don't care how many old ladies I have to trip knock out cleverly distract to get the $25 vacuum cleaner. It'll be mine! Muwahahah

Thanksgiving Day

The InLaws are coming so I'm busy cooking and cleaning. Hope everyone has a Happy Thanksgiving.

* edited to add a link & change the title slightly, but that's all

Wordless Wednesday

What are some of your favorite foster/adoption books?

I have been reading Open Adoption Experience: Complete Guide for Adoptive and Birth Families - From Making the Decision Through the Child’s Growing Years
by Lois Ruskai Melina and Sharon Kaplan Roszia for months now and I am finally on the last pages. I have an outdated version, but it still has some good information. We aren’t doing an open adoption; we are adopting one of our foster kids, but hope to keep in touch with the birth family. The book discusses the questions adopted children may ask at each developmental stage they go through. There are suggestions on how to answer the children’s questions and when to give more detailed information about their reasons for being adopted. Next I would like to locate and read Raising Adopted Children also by Lois Ruskai Melina. What are some of your favorite foster/adoption books?

Placement Numero Uno

Our first placement was a 17 year old girl we’ll call SG. We were still in GPS classes, not even sure if we would be chosen to be foster parents, and we were approached about taking a teen because we were “more realistic about teenage behavior”. She had been in care less than 2 years and we were to be her “3rd or 4th placement”. Turns out we were her 5th placement. But we were assured that none of the disruptions had been her fault, and that she was a good kid. We were told that she “tells little white lies, occasionally” which of course we later realized meant that she lied like she breathed.

Her first day here she was dropped off by her then current foster parent. In GPS classes we were told that a Social Worker will always bring the kid to you, or in emergency cases we might be expected to pick the child(ren) up from DHR/CPS or the hospital, but never that a foster parent would call persistently saying she needs to drop the kid off NOW. They were moving to another part of the state and since SG was about to be a senior in high school, she didn’t want to move with them. Their only complaint about her was that she “told little white lies” and that they didn’t approve of her boyfriend. But every other word was “she’s so pretty” like that was important or something. That family no longer fosters, none of SG’s previous placements still foster.

Anyway, so SG arrives and we sit and pass a ball around while talking and we realize she has a tongue ring. Actually our then 3 year old noticed that SG had “an earring in her mouth” and then promptly wanted to know when she could get earrings in her mouth. SG told us about some of her prior placements and when she said that she moved from her friend’s house into a foster home because they couldn’t afford her medical needs, I thought Hmm nobody mentioned “medical needs” … turns out she had seizures.

Home 1 couldn’t provide for her medical needs. Home 2 got shut down due to allegations of sexual abuse. Home 3 kicked her out because they found condoms in her bedroom. Home 4 moved out of county. Chances are she may not have been with any one family long enough for them to see her habitual lying. We quickly learned that many, many teachers and counselors pity kids in foster care and therefore turn a blind eye to just about everything short of murder. This meant that SG’s teachers reported that she made “good grades” and was “sweet” when in actuality she couldn’t pass the Graduation Exam.

In an effort to bring out her good qualities and make her focus less on her appearance and more on her abilities, we got her started in taking art lessons. She said that she liked to draw and she was indeed very talented artistically. I had hoped she might go on to college or trade school or something, but she hated school and was determined to be just like her mom. I wish now that I would have taken her statement about being “just like mom” seriously and literally. Her mother coached her in lying, manipulating, sneaking, etc. and eventually told her just how to plan the whole running away thing. Her mom had gone to school one day only to leave with her dad and run off and get married, and not finish school. Six months, one week, and one day from SG’s arrival to our home, she followed in her mother’s footsteps.

We were shocked and hurt.

From the day SG arrived we did everything the GPS classes tell you to do, we painted her room together – the colors and such that she chose, bought her favorite foods and drinks, met her friends, included her in all family events making sure to never show N more attention than we showed SG, got her involved in extracurricular activities, lavished her with praise, took her on vacations to states she had never been but always wanted to go, bought her hundreds of dollars worth of trendy clothing and accessories, took lots of pictures, and in general tried to make her feel like a part of our family. The main thing I regret, other than not reading her journal BEFORE she ran away, is not hugging her enough. She was overly affectionate with friends, former foster parents, social workers, teachers, classmates, my extended family members, sometimes even strangers, but she was not affectionate with us. She would tell everyone she saw that she loved them, but she didn’t say it to us. In an effort to make her realize that you don’t just say “I love You” without meaning, and you don’t just randomly say it to anyone, it is a feeling that builds over time, etc I held back so as to show her slowly how I hugged more and said love you more, once we got to know each other. I was trying to model appropriate behavior or make her see that maybe she didn’t know what love was. Or something. My attempts were futile and I wish I could go back and just hug her and tell her I love her from the beginning. Not that it would have made a difference. After she ran, I had to pack up her things to give to the social worker and I found SG’s journal. She had been planning to run since Home # 3.

SG had a boyfriend, we’ll call B, that she hadn’t been able to see much in the last two homes. He lived in a different part of this state, where SG’s mom lives, and only came up to see her on Saturdays. He was a teenager and worked as an electrician. He had his own transportation and was a good guy. We met him, liked him, and approved of them dating. SG seemed to lose interest in him once she didn’t have to sneak around to see him. One day she had a ring on her finger and I asked if it was an engagement ring and at first she said no but then later said it was. We were already attempting to teach her life skills, but then we started also talking about preparing for marriage and how much it would cost to start a home, etc. They assured us they were going to wait until SG graduated high school. Meanwhile, SG had this “friend” T who was an older male with a criminal record. She was sneaking to see him but then he dated SG’s best friend and that made SG mad so she told me about previously dating T. She swore she had dated him before B and had not cheated on B, but I suspected that was a lie. B had asked me straight out if SG had been seeing T and I told him no. We did not allow her to see him. I didn’t realize at the time that she was actually with T when she was supposed to be with her girlfriends at the movies or whatever. Once SG brought T over to meet us and he stated intent to date SG, then I felt it was time to say something to B – you know SG’s fiancé.

For a month or two I kept trying to convince SG to make a choice between the guys or to tell them that she didn’t want to be exclusive with either of them, etc but she would not be forthcoming with them. Eventually when she told a gazillion lies about us to B, I ended up having to tell him myself that SG was cheating on him and had been. He broke up with her. SG blamed me saying she didn’t want to break up with B, that she wasn’t dating T, etc. A few times we would stop by SG’s work and she wouldn’t be there. One time we found her in the backseat of T’s mom’s car. He didn’t have his own car. This is when SG basically shut me out. I notified her social worker and asked that her counselor be notified that I thought SG was up to something, but not sure what. Her social worker would come out to our house, ask SG what was wrong, SG would say “nothing” and then they would gossip about the social worker’s new boyfriend and then she would leave. It was as if they didn’t take my concerns seriously. I still feel like I failed. Like I should have made them understand. Like I should have worked harder to reach her.

Day 23 of NaBloPoMo

Today you get a picture, tomorrow I'll write.

No lunch for you!

Friday afternoon conversation between mom & daughter:

Me: So, what did you have for lunch today?
TheDaughter: Nothing. We ran out of time.
Me: Ran out of time? For lunch? Are you sure?
TheDaughter: Yes.
Me: Did you not go to the lunchroom and eat lunch?
TheDaughter: We went to the lunchroom and ate popcorn.
Me: Popcorn? What did you have for snack then? (thinking she mixed up snack and lunch)
TheDaughter: The brownie you packed for me. (like duh)
Me: You just didn't have lunch? No food, food? Like meat and potatoes or even a sandwich?
TheDaughter: No.

I have sent the teacher an email but school is out next week. I have thought about calling her at home. But is it appropriate for me to call her angry about not feeding my five year old baby some food for lunch? Food that we paid for in advance for the month. Food that public schools are supposed to provide each and every day of the school year. Yeah, I think I'm going to call her.

*edited - they did have a sack lunch consisting of PB&J sandwich and an apple but they ate in the classroom. TheDaughter said "Oh, I thought Paprika brought that." She didn't realize it was lunch, apparently. And I got my knickers in a bunch for nothing.

Is that a PINK SLIP you're wearing?

Yesterday my dad was notified that his place of employment will be shutting down. He has worked there for over 35 years. He is one year away from being able to take early retirement. They aren't getting severance packages, but they are getting some sort of payout. But my dad is no longer employed as of January 1st 2009.

Today my husband was notified that his place of employment may be shutting down.

Happy Holidays

Thankful Thursday

I volunteered at Thedaughter's school today. It was my job to bring the food for their Thanksgiving Feast. BabyBoy was fussy and puked all over his clothes. Prepared mom that I am, I didn't have a change of clothing for him. The room was hot and I was burning up, but BabyBoy seemed to not be feeling well so I took him down to the school nurse and his temp was 100.3 so now he is sick. We have a doctors appointment for this afternoon. His well-child apt is for Monday. On to the thankfulness ...

I'm thankful for the time we do have together to build family memories. Like taking a drive through the park.

And feeding the deer.


Did you know that deer like Honey flavored Teddy Grahams? You do now.


And enjoying nature.


And arguing over which composition is better. Mine, not his, of course. Which do you think?

Attaching in Adoption

I finally finished reading this book and it only took me two times of checking it out at the library. I kept it a week, okay maybe two three weeks, past the due date. Turns out I could have purchased the book for the price of the overdue charges. Oops.

For the most part I liked the book, but every so often at the end of a paragraph it would say "more on this in chapter 11" which drove me nuts. Just talk more about it now so I don't have to skip ahead. Better yet, compile all pertinent information into a bulleted list that fits neatly in a pocket sized book. Or at least small enough it fits in a purse diaper bag.

Really, Attaching in Adoption by Deborah Gray is an interesting book packed full of useful information that most if not all foster/adopt parents could benefit from reading. And now for the resources listed in the back of Attaching in Adoption: Practical Tools for Today's Parents by Deborah D. Gray:

AdoptInfo
AdoptiveFamilies
ATTACh
AdoptionMedicalNews
RADzebra
ChildTrauma
CHADD
Attachment
FosteringFamiliesToday
AdoptNet
NorthAmericanCouncilonAdoptibleChildren
PactAdopt
PerspectivesPress
TapestryBooks

Holidays bring an increase in CPS cases

It may be the colder weather, but I figure it's the upcoming holiday season that is resulting in an increase in CPS pick-ups, at least here locally anyway. Yesterday we had a message on the machine at home about an emergency placement but when I returned the call to get more information, I got some weird sounding voice mail and nobody called back. They didn't call my cell phone and the number they left was long distance. Then today the head honcho called my cell (I was on the home phone with my mom) and left a kind of forceful message asking me to please return her call about a potential placement. It was late afternoon and she was probably just tired and wanting to go home, yet couldn't find a placement for the sibling group, but either way I couldn't help but to wonder if the SW from last night complained that we didn't answer our home phone (call the cell when we aren't home, that's what it's there for). So I called her back as soon as I got the message and the ages/gender wouldn't fit in our house. Unless they don't mind a 14 year old boy rooming with a 9 month old unrelated boy.

I'm kinda stressed out right now anyway, and would prefer to add one kid at a time with all that is already going on in our lives. The Husband leaving shortly to be gone for 6 months, The Daughter sick again with the same crap that antibiotics aren't getting rid of, my sister, issues with BabyBoy, volunteering out the wazoo, holiday stuff, the InLaws are coming! soon! But then I think about how bad the kid's home life must have been for DHR/CPS to pull the kids out immediately and I realize I should be grateful for what we do have.

Creating a Treasure for the Adopted Child

I read Creating a Treasure for the Adopted Child by Beth O' Malley this weekend and thought it would be appropriate to share here. There are some good examples of how best to word information that may be too harsh for younger children to hear on a daily basis. The book also suggests using pocket folders for the private information that doesn't need to be brought out each time the child wants to view his or her lifebook. Anyway, the basic recommended layout is as follows:

Title Page with picture of child as baby
Page 1 Birthday Page - describe the season, etc
Page 2 Actual Birth Page - where born, birth stats, etc (alternate page 2 if information is unknown - Meaning of Name page with pictures/graphics)
Page 3 Birth Certificate (original and/or adoption)
Page 4 Where Did I Come From page - grew in birth mom's tummy, etc
page 5 Fact of Life page - talk about the birds & the bees (I personally don't feel this is necessary or appropriate for all kid's lifebook)
Pages 6 & 7 Biological Parents page - names, pictures, descriptions, interests, etc of biological parents
Page 8 Birth Country Info page - alternate page Child's Favorite Things About Said Country
Page 9 Why Was I Adopted page - discuss reasons the birth parent(s) couldn't take care of the child(ren) emphasizing adult responsibility
Pages 10 & 11 Foster Care, Court Involvement, Adoption Planning (I include placement paperwork, court hearing notifications, ISP paperwork, etc even though that isn't what the book recommends)
Page 12+ Foster Home(s) / Orphanage page - list homes, people, favorites activities, hobbies, pets, foods, neighbors, schools, report cards, mementos etc of each placement
Page 13 Coming Home page

I typically put the pages in a slightly different order, and add tons more pictures. Actually BabyBoy's Lifebook is more like a collection of pictures with descriptions and lists of milestones. I wrote more about that here.

Poor Kitty

The Cat plots revenge against tolerates the kids, but she isn't happy about it.

Is it over yet?

Tonight we watched Journey to the Center of the Earth. Let's just say I asked more than once if it was over yet. Last weekend we watched Charlie Bartlett and Incredible Hulk, both movies were better than tonights. Three more Date Nights left before he leaves again for 6 months. We told TheDaughter today and she seemed to not hear it. I think it's just too hard for her right now. This is not what I wanted for her. Not at all.

I've asked him to try and switch with someone else so that he gets rotation #'s 2 & 3 instead of #'s 1 & 2 so that he will leave in March and be gone until September. That way we can go stay with him during TheDaughter's summer break from school. And he can be home for Christmas (and the TPR hearing, our anniversary, Valentines, BabyBoy's 1st birthday, school events, etc.) but who knows if anyone will switch.

Is it over yet?

Wordless Wednesday

This Month's Loot

I know there are some people who think foster parents shouldn't get a board payment or utilize any other services, but the way I look at it is that any help we receive in turn helps the children. Could we foster without the peanuts money, yes. Could we foster without our awesome resource center and accompanying food bank, yes. But gosh it sure does help out.

Again, we do NOT foster for the money.

This is something the local foster parent association does. We have a once monthly food bank. Each participating family pays $25 and then we get groceries/household items such as:

Tide Laundry detergent, 4 containers of concentrated liquid
Head & Shoulders Shampoo
Pantene conditioner
Herbal Essence shampoo & conditioner
Kid's gummy multivitamins, 3 mega sized jars
Spiderman toothpaste, a case of it
Kandoo hand soap, a case of it
Olive Oil spray, 2 cans
Steamer Bags for microwaving veggies, 3 boxes
Newman's Own salad dressing, 2 bottles
Orvill Redenbacker popcorn, a case of it
Slim Jims, 2 boxes
Brownies, Zebra Cakes, and Chocolate Chip Muffins
Frozen French Fries, 27 pounds
Glade candles
Waffle Ice Cream Cones
Candy Bars, 40 full sized Butterfinger, 100 Grand, Crunch, Baby Ruth, etc

This means we won't have to buy school snacks, shampoo, toothpaste, soap, or laundry detergent for the rest of the month or maybe two months. Instead we can direct the money towards a new car seat for BabyBoy since he has outgrown the infant seat, a Christmas outfit for BabyBoy, a Christmas stocking for BabyBoy, and of course more baby food, diapers and wipes. Oh, and some sippy cups since he is ready for them now. And it would be nice to get his picture taken professionally as a gift for his birth parents. Or we could just take the money saved and put into The Adoption Fund. Who knew lawyers were so expensive!?!

Giving my family the finger

I debated whether or not to post about this, but like many other navel gazers on teh internets, I tend to process things through blogging. Still, I'm leery of revealing the level of dysfunction in my family. Obviously the desire to be authentic and/or keep it real outweighs the trepidation or embarrassment or whatever you want to call it.

So on with the goddamned story already.

First a little background. My life childhood was littered with semi normallacy and down right blatant dysfunction. Monday through Thursday was actually kind of normal with school, homework, chores, etc. I was a latchkey kid and we lived way out in bumfucked egypt so it was scary as shit. I was only 6 but I was responsible for keeping up with the house key and taking care of myself for two hours until my parents got home from work. By 8 I was taking care of myself and my sister. By 10 I was also babysitting other kids after school for extra money. Friday through Sunday was a toss up. It depended on Dad's drink of choice. Beer he could handle, anything else he couldn't. He is a mean drunk.

Dad went through stages, he was still growing up apparently, for a while he had an afro then long hair hippie-style then a normal hair cut but he joined a motorcycle gang called The Four Horsemen. Those were the hardest years I can remember, the Harley was awesome - everything else wasn't. I should probably mention that drugs were a constant 24/7 regardless of age/stage/decade/hair style. Growing, harvesting, drying, and bagging pot was so much a part of my childhood that I didn't realize other kids didn't do it. My parents had pictures (my sister on one of her paranoid sprees burned all evidence) of us proudly holding up pot plants that were so tall they bent under the ceiling. There were pictures of us walking through fields of marijuana, like it was corn or something. I remember acing my test in 6th grade health class - I knew all the pills by sight and knew all the slang words. So even though we went to school & did homework and chores during the week, there was mushroom tea in the fridge, pot drying in the oven, and pills in the bathroom vanity. My family's version of normal.

During the motorcycle gang years, my parents partied a lot. They took us with them (hey at least we got to spend a lot of time together as a family). As an aside, they also took me as a toddler to very loud concerts. The Exorcists was the first movie I saw in the theater, it's documented in my baby book as if it were a perfectly normal G rated children's movie. As a newborn I received "only 4 to 6 ounces" of beer in my bottle at naptime and bedtime "to help me sleep". By toddlerhood I was expected to drink it from a cup. And my parents just couldn't understand why in third grade I was sent to special classes because I couldn't comprehend the reading material. Anyway, the motorcycle gang was basically a big fuck fest. They would have parties, kids running amuck, and the women would get up on a table or pool table or truck hood and either have wet tshirt contests or just strip. The men judged the women's bodies; my mother used to complain that the gang leader's wife always won even though she had little bitty titties. Typically tons of home movie type porn was shown. People got drunk, smoked weed, and fucked like rabbits. Swapping and sharing was commonplace. There was no attempt whatsoever to shield the children from viewing this. As bizzare as this is going to sound, these were the good nights.

The bad nights were when Dad went out without Mom. Either she wasn't invited, didn't want to go, or couldn't due to an obligation we had (sports, sleep overs, holidays, etc). Anyway, when Dad went out alone we knew the shit would hit the fan when he came home. He would be falling down drunk but could still manage to beat the living hell out of mother. One time he came home with his toe busted wide open and we had to take him to the ER. One time he shoved mother's face into the mirror on the dresser and broke her nose. I got my sister and we hid in the closet until mother found us and sent us to the neighbors house. She was in the hospital for days. Didn't press charges. She was back with dad before the week was out. The fights almost always started because he accused her of having cheated while he was gone. She of course didn't because she was too busy parenting us. He constantly said she was cheating while we were at the grocery store. If we took more than an hour, he beat her. Meanwhile, he had one affair after another ... after another ... after another. I'm not sure he isn't still having affairs.

Gosh this is getting long. My point is that I had to take care of things from an early age on. I was Dad's confidant - he told me about his women, asked for advice on work related things, took me on all his pot growing excursions. He still does this - treats me like I'm the only person he can talk to. I was Mom's confidant - her helper, her sounding board, her protector, my sister's caretaker. Because dad didn't help with finances, mother had to work overtime in order to make ends meet, so I often had to start or fully cook dinner and help my sister with her homework, etc from an early age. I felt an enormous burden.

Fast forward to the current family drama. My sister, who is schizophrenic and showing signs of imminent relapse, was letting a cousin, the cousin's boyfriend, and the boyfriend's brother stay at her HUD home. They do drugs, don't work, don't have anything really and were obviously using my sister. Only she didn't, still doesn't think so. But it was illegal for them to stay there because she is on HUD, so Mother went over to kick them out. Of course she needed me "for backup". My sister got pissed and was combative. Mother cried to me. "It's so hard. What am I going to do? I have to go through this AGAIN? What can I do?" Yadda Yadda Yadda. My daughter kept asking why Grandma was crying and what we were saying about her Aunt. So I told mom she would have to evict my sister. It seems like the only thing to do when a renter refuses to comply with a landlords rules and regulations (mandated by gov't HUD standards)- evict. I also said her therapist needs to be notified, as does someone at the disability office (my sister's new boyfriend wants control of her disability check), and the police should be notified of the deadbeat's whereabouts because they most likely have warrants out on them. "But you don't understand. I can't evict her. Could you do that to your child?" Meanwhile she was so afraid that I had to walk her to her car just in case my sister was outside waiting to attack her. Deep down I knew that my parents would do what they always do, bury their heads in the sand and pretend nothing is happening and wait until it all goes away. You know why it all goes away? Because I step up and take care of it.

This weekend my sister kept her checkbook (our parents are in charge of her finances, the account is in dad's name for my sister, but they let her write her own checks so that she can have some semblance of independence) and instead of forceably taking it from her, my parents just drove home. They let her keep it. The next day they went to the bank and canceled the account (surprised they did this, but good for them). Of course my sister wrote checks on a closed account. I think that's a felony or something, not sure. Then she decided since scumbag boyfriend couldn't live with her, she would live with him (at his parents house). One day later and she decided she liked having electricity/heat/food/running water too much so she came back to her home, scumbag in tow of course. Our parents aren't doing anything. No eviction, no more intervention, nothing. One of the checks she wrote was for a car & only because she doesn't have a driver's license, she bought the car in deadbeat cousin's name. Now deadbeat cousin has a car. My sister doesn't. But "they aren't using me!" she insists. Tonight I called to see if mother contacted mental health, she claimed to have left messages for the therapist, but that was it. Then she proceeded to yell at me about how she is staying out of it, going to let my sister self destruct then pick up the pieces, waiting until she apologizes then will help her pay off the checks, etc and just kept saying how hard it is on her. *rolls eyes* It's just so hard. I can't possibly understand how hard this is for her. If it were my own daughter I wouldn't be such an unemotional hardass. Ad Nauseum. With some other lovelies thrown in for good measure.

I want to get away. Away from The Crazy. Away from the drama. Away from the dysfunction that every goddamned person in this fucked up family acts like is normal. If you pretend it doesn't exists, then it doesn't exists. If you don't tell the secrets, then they never happened. This is why I have diarrhea of the mouth. I feel like everything should be said, no secrets, be truthful, say what you mean, be blunt, just get it all out. I can't handle being told one. more. time. just how unlovable I am, or how I make it hard to love me, or how one more person that I'm supposed to trust isn't in love with me anymore. It took me 25 years to even like myself. I don't need this shit. I want to get away. Far, far away ... and they lived happily ever after. The end.


*DISCLAIMER - This is not a pity party post & I'm not a martyr. I think I just needed to get it all out and come to the conclusion that I'M DONE. As in not my problem anymore. Take your crazy somewhere else, we're all full here. D.O.N.E. Done. That, and I want to physically move away from my family's land. Toyed with the idea for years, now it's Time for Change.

Attack of the Ants

And the next court date is ...

January the 'th. The next TPR court date is all the way in January. Near the end of January. CPS will have a new lawyer at the end of this year, one unfamiliar with this case, with this family, and this worries me. This may be drawn out even longer than initially expected.

Day 7 of NaBloPoMo

Today is day seven of National Blog Posting Month.

I changed the picture from my latest Wordless Wednesday post.

I also edited my only post ever about politics which was apparently not well written and therefore misunderstood.

The cat woke us up at 3am this morning meowing funny, shaking her head, chasing her tail, and stumbling around bumping into things. We thought her kidneys might be failing as her older brother did a similar thing before he died, but she appears to be fine today. Now we suspect that someone (possibly my sister and/or her boyfriend) gave Kismet drugs.

I apologize for this post being all over the place.

Politics in the South

A conversation around me:

Person 1 said to Person 2 "Did you get your President?" to which #2 replied "No. What is this world coming to?" and #1 replied "All we can do is pray." Then #2 remarked how her daughter was very upset by the new President elect and so she comforted her by praying with her "for God's divine intervention". And then they both said "I'm not racists or anything, it's just..."

And I had to literally BITE MY TONGUE.

I voted for Obama, by the way. The only thing that would have made me happier was if we had just elected Hilary Clinton President and Barack Obama as Vice President. Now that would be a true victory.

Wordless Wednesday

Home Safety Checklist

for foster/adoptive homes

1. Home is in clean condition.
2. Located in neighborhood suitable to the general welfare of children. Safe and suitable play space for indoor and outdoor activities.
3. Family has working telephone.
4. Home has electric service, water and gas if used for heating and cooling.
5. A waste disposal system (city sewage or septic tank).
6. Heating and cooling systems are in working order; fan blades are enclosed. If doors/windows are used for ventilation, they must have screens.
7. Adequate lighting in all rooms.
8. Beds and mattress size and quality allows for good sleeping posture.
9. Slats on babies’ cribs are no more than 2 3/8 inches apart.
10. Baby’s mattresses are waterproof and fit tightly in crib. No more than 2 finger width between mattress and each end of bed.
11. Cribs and mattresses are clean and disinfected.
12. Distance of 3 feet between babies’ cribs is recommended.
13. Adequate number of bedrooms and beds; separate bed for each foster child.
14. Separate sleeping rooms for children over age six and of the opposite sex.
15. Bedrooms used for child’s sleeping, personal belongings, study and privacy.
16. Private, sanitary bathroom facilities for family members and foster children usage.
17. Adequate space and facilities available for special care of the sick.
18. Fenced play area when hazards are in the neighborhood (dangerous highways, bodies of water, etc.)
19. Locked storage area for chemicals and poisons. Pool chemicals cannot be stored near petroleum products.
20. Home has suitable facilities for food preparation, service, protection and storage.
21. Safe water supply with recommended temperature of no more than 120 degrees F.
22. Decals at child’s eye level placed on all clear glass doors.
23. Handrails within child’s reach placed on all stairs used by children.
24. Firearms are unloaded and locked in storage and are not accessible to children. Ammunition stored separately.
25. Medication stored in locked area, including Ipecac. Also, instructions for use and the number to Poison Control.
26. Grounds are free from hazards, such as abandoned cars, unlocked or abandoned appliances, uncovered wells and cisterns, stacked lumber with exposed nails, explosives, etc.
27. Appropriate safeguards against potential hazards such as open fires, heaters, cooking range, thermostatic controls, tools, machinery, etc.
28. No more than 2 plugs per outlet. If children under 4 will be placed in home, protective covers must be on outlets that cannot be swallowed. Safety gates at top and bottom of stairs.
29. For pools exceeding 2 feet in depth (pools, spas, hot tubs, ponds) – inaccessible and complies with minimum standards.
30. Smoke alarms within 10 feet of bedrooms and no more than 30 feet apart in hallways. And at the head of stairways for each additional floor in the home, including basements.
31. A 5 pounds dry chemical fire extinguisher that can be used on any type fire is installed in plain view near a room that has an escape route.
32. Stove or combustion heater does not block escape route if fire occurs from its malfunctioning.
33. Each bedroom has a window through which a child can exit and upstairs bedrooms have ladders that can be used for exit through the windows.
34. Home is free of fire hazards such as faulty electrical cords, overloaded electrical sockets, accumulation of flammable material. Fireplace has a proper screen door.
35. Unvented heaters prohibited without approval from a licensed inspector.
36. Mobile home conforms to standards, aluminum plate attached.
37. Home has fire evacuation and threat of natural disaster (hurricane, tornado) plan.
38. Outside garbage and trash stored in fly-proof watertight containers with lids.
39. Pets kept clean and brushed and vaccinations up to date; pet kept away from food area. Pets should be non-aggressive.
40. Pets that could pose a threat (lizards, snakes, turtles, etc) should be routinely confined in an appropriate container (cage, aquarium).
41. Automobiles used to transport children have seat belts, locked doors and child passenger restraint system.
42. Clothes dryer is properly vented and lint free.
43. Curtains are away from stove, heater or fireplace.
44. Potentially dangerous items are stored and inaccessible to young children, such as matches, medicine, cleaning fluids, lighter fluid, bleach, shampoos, nail polish, cutting supplies, etc.

The Crazy Family

The shit hit the fan with my sister tonight. We had been suspecting something was up and assumed it was a relapse, but she has been letting a druggie dead beat cousin with her boyfriend and boyfriend's brother stay with her. This is problematic because my sister is on HUD and can be evicted for having people stay with her. Even more problematic because my parents are her landlords and they are too emotionally involved to actually evict her. But she had been hiding them and this was why she was being all secretive and distant.

She may still be about to relapse. Some of her behaviors are bizzarre and can't be attributed to hiding people in her home. Only time will tell.

Mom went over to kick the people out of my sister's house. My sister and mom argued. My sister became aggressive and scared mom, so mom came to my house crying. I finished up making dinner for my family and then went up to my sister's to talk with her. I took a knife. Which seems both silly and practical. I found out my sister has been sleeping with the brother of our cousin's boyfriend. She is not on birth control. She is schizophrenic. They are druggies. She has drugs. They are unemployed, transportationless, homeless, drugged out trash. She is naive and feels sorry for them, so took them in. I tried to explain that they were using her, but she insists he loves her and that they aren't using her because she asked them to come stay with her. They are going to be together forever. She likes that he doesn't work, that way he can be with her all the time. Never mind that she provides everything for herself and all three of them ... on her $600 a month disability check.

I told my sister that she needs to call and get government housing first thing tomorrow so that she can do whatever she wants with her home. I had to convince her that our parents were actually evicting her. She called our aunt who informed my sister that she still won't be able to let people live with her. It's against the rules there too. Imagine that. Mom yelled at me that I couldn't be that hard-hearted if it were my own child, etc. And maybe she is right, maybe I couldn't, but I also can't coddle my parents while attempting to help my sister while raising my own kids and trying like hell to keep my marriage going.

I want my night/afternoon back.

So this post is at least a little bit about fostering - we had BabyBoy's TPR court date today. Court started at 9am and I was back home at 9:45am. The birth parents showed up but didn't have a lawyer so we'll go back in a month in order to give them time to obtain counsel. I wish I could accurately express how I simultaneously feel awful that they are loosing their baby, but feel excited that we're getting to keep him. Since they haven't had visits, ever, I gave them pictures so they could at least see what he looks like. They insist on hugging and thanking me at each court date which is very awkward. I always wonder how other foster parents deal with situations like that. This afternoon BabyBoy's social worker came by for a homevisit. She has a 2 year old girl, born addicted to Methadone, that is available for adoption. Darwin and I haven't really had time to discuss it yet.

We're Not In Kansas Anymore

He's baaaaack. Just so happens that I woke up with a sore throat this morning (probably caught TheDaughter's Strep), so after feeding the kids and getting BabyBoy off for a nap, I went back to bed. Dirty dishes in the sink, laundry piled up, trash desperately needing to be taken out, and the house in disarray ... and in walks Darwin. The ONLY time I've "slept late" since he has been gone and he comes home with me in the bed. Now he thinks I did this all the time. You know since I could simultaneously sleep late and have The Daghter at Soccer every Saturday.

We are happy to have him home. The Daughter hasn't left his side all day and BabyBoy doesn't know what to think about this new person in the house.

We went to buy groceries and Darwin kept rearranging the items as I put them in the cart. I guess I forgot how to properly grocery shop in his absence? You know, 'cause we didn't shop at all while he was gone. For three months, we just didn't eat. We're going through the whole adjustment thing like he just came home from war or something. Which reminds me of this one time when he came back from Afghanistan and he was seriously disoriented. He didn't know where we kept the broom, for instance, and he would turn off the water in the shower between lathering up. "Where's the broom" he asked. "In the same closet it's been in for the past year and a half" I frustratingly replied.

It really is nice to have him home. We get to have Date Night - together!

BTW, I'm participating in National Blog Posting Month this year which means I will (or will attempt to) post every single day for the month of November. Come join us.