Posts from — February 2009

One of the hardest things for me to adjust to as a parent – particularly as a fost-adopt parent – is that my moods are no longer my own.  My moods – and my husband’s – have a significant impact on our kids, especially M and L.

And of course, by “mood”, I mean “bad mood”.  Good moods are kind of a wash, but a bad mood will always impact the kiddos.

Just the other night, there was a parental bad mood.  A big, parental bad mood.  And M and L experienced fallout for the next 24 hours.  Totally tense, totally anxious, totally sensitive.  There was nail polish splashed all over the wall.  Getting to school was even harder than usual.  Even though apologies had been spoken and reparations made – they still struggled with their initial fears for a long time.

For N, a parental bad mood is no big.  He’s seen ‘em, knows they have nothing to do with him, knows he’s not going to get hurt, and he has enough history with us to know that they go as quickly as they come.  M and L on the other hand, not only do not have that history with us, their experience with other parental units has shown that a bad mood will end up hurting them.  Badly.

Does that mean we don’t get to have our parental bad moods?  Of course not.  We’re human.  But… we do have a responsibility to manage our moods, and not let them manage us.  Maybe more so than the other parent, we have to get to the root of our issues, instead of just letting them work themselves out.

And, we have to understand that our moods will have a significant impact on our kids, and will need to spend time and energy cleaning up after our moods.  Just another part of the job I wasn’t prepared for.

…or if they did tell me, I didn’t listen.

1. Fridays are no longer “the end” of the week.  They’re just the beginning of the weekend.

First, you have to go through all the *$&@^ the school sends home, making sure you don’t miss the notification for the next school holiday, or even worse, your daughter’s pajama party. Then, you have to be with the kids full-time, because they’re not in school, and you’re not at work. And if you’re like me and save all your chores for the weekend, you have to attempt to do all of them while you have kids hanging on your legs.

I’ve come to love Mondays.

2. Homework isn’t just for kids anymore.

My first grader has homework that she truly can’t do unless I’m helping to read the instructions.  Sometimes, the homework even says “read this to your parents”.  Um, if I wanted to be involved in my child’s education, I would have sent them to private schools.

3. Laundry will dominate your life.

I think I’m up to 7 loads a week.  And just when I think its all done, I turn around three days later and the hamper is full again.  And of course, every piece of my daughter’s clothing must be pre-treated (the boys clothing is almost as clean as it was before they wore it).  And for some reason, one of my sons goes through more PJs than there are days in the week.  Explain that to me.

4. Silence is not golden, its deadly.

Unless they’re behind their bedroom doors – and sometimes, even then – silence usually means someone’s up to no good.

5. Kids don’t “get” that some stains don’t come out of carpet.

The list of stuff I can no longer let the kids keep in their room keeps getting longer: play makeup; any drawing supply that doesn’t have the word “Crayola” on it; Silly Putty.  Thank goodness we’re renting right now – on the other hand, we’ve had to say goodbye to the security deposit.

6. Kids have a very clear idea of what the bath water temperature should be, but their hands are too small to control it themselves.

Or at least, they THINK they have a clear idea.  I’ve been known to pretend I was adjusting the temperature just so I can watch them say “ahhhh, much better” and laugh to myself.  Bad mommy.

7. The bathroom will never be clean – or smell quite right – again

‘Nuff said.

8. Laundry sucks

I know, I said it earlier.  But its really THAT bad.

9. You’ll never watch the news in your family room again.

I used to watch the news religiously.  But when you’ve got little ones, you see things a bit differently.  Most of that stuff is just too scary for them.

10. Sometimes, you’ll realize that you love them so much that your entire body aches.

Do I really need to expand on that?

I’m gonna warn you right now… I’m gonna be talking about poo.

That’s right, poo.

One of our kids has huge issues with it.  Now, in training, they mentioned that kids might have issues with controlling their bodily functions. But no amount of training would have prepared me for what we’ve had to deal with.

First, the poo is so huge, it actually clogs the toilet.  I’m not making that up.

Then, often, the stuff leaks out.  And when said child realizes that their underpants are poopy, one or all of the following happens:

• they immediately change underpants (good)
• then use a sock to clean themselves (huh?)
• then leave the underpants on the ground, or put them back in the undies drawer  (ew!)
• then throw the socks up into the top shelves of the closet (you have GOT to be kidding me!)

Can you imagine what living like this is like?  Constant plunging of a full toilet.  Regular hunts for poopy underpants (oh, and don’t forget the socks!).  Cleaning drawers and shelves were soiled items have landed.

Oh – and here’s what makes it extra fun.  My husband, who changed many poopy underpants in his day, cannot handle THIS poo.  It makes him throw up.  Totally involuntary bodily response of his.  Lucky me does not have such a response, so gets who gets to deal with all this fun?

So now, we’re working with our pediatrician to help make things “flow” better (i.e.  we’re having fun with laxatives) to reduce the size, and help the colon go back to a normal size.  Fun times.

But the pediatrician can only help with the first issue – they can’t help with the “how to deal with poopy pants” issue.  And believe me, this kid KNOWS what they are – and are NOT – supposed to do.  But they do it anyway, either out of instinct, rebellion or control.  Or maybe something else.

So when you’re going through your fost-adopt training, do NOT ignore what they’re telling you about this stuff.  Do NOT underestimate what its like to live through this.  While we love our kids, and are willing to put up with the crap – literally – you better make sure that you can handle the crap as well!

I came across this in my twitter feed: Foster parent who has looked after 80 children struck off…because a Muslim girl in her care became a Christian.

This just makes me sick.  Here’s a woman who has done the most thankless job on the planet – foster care – for over 80 kids.  And because a 16 year old girl – apparently of her own volition – converted from Muslim to Christianity, she has been “fired”.

Now look, I know foster parents are not supposed to proselytize.  But by every account, this woman did what she could to discourage this girl from converting.

I don’t normally discuss foster care in this blog – its about adoption.  But its specifically about older child adoption and fost-adopt.  And those of us who adopt via foster care have a unique relationship with foster parents.  We despise with a passion the few bad eggs, but we are forever grateful to the devoted foster parents who loved our kids – and all those who continue to wait for a new home.

So to hear of someone getting her license revoked for something such as this breaks my heart.  Its not like there’s a bunch of other parents to step up and take her place – instead, there’s just one less set of loving arms to care for unloved children.

Just. Wrong.

I read about this about a year ago (see this article for more info), and thought it was a crock – yet another way for folks to justify their general life frustrations.

Now, a year later, I’m living it.

That’s right.  I’m struggling with depression.  And I’m pretty certain it has to do with the events of the last year – wait, the last 7 years (which is when the dream of adopting first came to me).

Our lives have been turned upside down.  We were trained extensively, yet trained for nothing.  We’re constantly having to change strategies, change minds, change rules.  There are smells in my house I never expected.  And there are emotions in parenting I was never warned about.

And I’m exhausted.  I’ve been going to bed crazy early, sleeping 10 hours a night – and am just as tired as ever.  Nothing satisfies me.  I eat even when I’m stuffed.  I can’t concentrate.  I can’t serve in any areas.  I can’t even watch TV – if the show requires any emotional involvement (even a silly little sitcom), I can’t watch it.

Normally, PADS occurs within a month or two of the adoption – its been over a year for me.  And I think that’s because I am deeply blessed by a fantastic support network that’s been holding me up for the last year.  But even they can’t hold me forever – now is my time to crash.

And that’s okay.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like being depressed.  But its okay for me to take this time to recover.  To rest, to say “no”, to regroup.

Now of course, my normal mode of attack when there’s a problem is to come up with a plan to rectify said problem.  That’s not gonna work here, as I’m not too good at developing and executing plans right now!

So right now, I’m going to just pick one thing at a time that I can do to take care of myself.  This week, my goal is simply to eat “more” produce (which isn’t saying much, considering the total lack of produce in my diet).  Its a small thing that can help both heal my body and mind.

And of course, I will continue to rely on my husband and friends to provide encouragement and support.  They’ve gotten me this far, and I’m so grateful for their love!

Remember when…

Remember when we cleaned floors, not ceilings; and laundry could be completed in half a day.  We were tidy.

Remember when everything had its place, expectations were clear, and we knew what the schedule was? We were orderly.

Remember when we could go out to eat without hiring a sitter, spongebob was a concept instead of reality, and vacations involved sitting around reading?  We were in control.

Remember when we were tidy?  And orderly?  And in control?

Do we miss it?

Sometimes.

Would we ever go back to it?

Never.

Because instead of tidy, and orderly, and control, we have N, and L, and M.

We have love, in all its messy goodness.

Remember.  Then celebrate.  And continue to love.

Yesterday, it rained.

Now your average parent, when it rains, makes sure the kids have their raincoats and sends them on their merry way.  Which I did.

However, my kids have issues with coats.  M and L are very sensitive to how the coat feels, whether its soft or bulky, etc.  And apparently, L decided his coat didn’t make the grade, so he left it in the car.  Oh – also, my kids haven’t quite learned that just because it isn’t raining at just that minute doesn’t mean they’re in the clear for the day.

Fast forward to picking them up from school, and walking from day care to the car.  It started raining.  Hard.  And it was cold.  And L was so overwhelmed by the cold and the rain that he started sobbing.  I mean full on, “its the end of the world” type sobbing.  All the way to the car.  And of course, the harder the sobbed, the slower he walked, which just made it worse.

So in an effort to prevent that from happening again, I made darn sure that THIS morning that they both had appropriate outerwear on.  But now, M started to throw a fit.  Because her coat is a bit bulky, and she HATES how that feels, especially as she’s sitting in the car.  The hood was bothering her, she couldn’t get to the seat belt very easily, and so on.  So now SHE’S inconsolable!

Fost-adopt training never covered outerwear issues!

“I don’t belong in this family.”

This, from L, as he was hiding himself in the sofa (after having just been caught stealing candy).

It didn’t help that a few minutes later, after his mood had recovered a bit, he attempted to play with M and N, and they wouldn’t make room for him.

“See?!??”  he cried.

He may have been going for a dramatic moment, or he may have truly felt that way right then, we’ll never know.  And its almost impossible to know how to respond.  Of course, your first response is “but of course you do”, but if he’s really feeling left out, he’s not going to believe me.  “Don’t be silly” is appropriate if he’s going for the drama, but a slap in the face if he’s really feeling that way.

If I could go back in time to last night, I’d say this:

“L, you are my son, forever.  You are M and N’s brother, forever.  You are the one who will keep M and N together as you grow older.  You are the one who shows the most love and kindness consistently.  You are the one who best represents what our family stands for.  You’re not just a part of this family – you are its center, its very heart.”

Oh when will they invent time travel…

Lately, I’ve been exhausted.

“No duh,” you say, “you have three kids!”

True that.  But this is more so than usual.  As in, 9 hours of sleep doesn’t seem to be enough, midday naps don’t help.

I’m checking with my doctor, but I really think this is the emotional fallout of adopting two kids.  After all, I’ve been “on” for over a year now, with hardly any time to breathe.

In addition, my entire “demographic” has changed radically – four years ago, I was a single woman with two cats; today, I’m a married woman with three kids and a dog.

I supposed if I’m being honest, I originally thought I would just be “adding” kids to my existing self.  But the reality is, I’m different, from the inside out.

A friend of mine who has both given birth and adopted pointed out that when you’re pregnant, your body has nine months to adjust to the changes that are coming.  But when you adopt, your body has no warning – next thing it knows, its become a mom, and all hell has broken loose!

Does this sound crazy to you?  Maybe it is.  But I’ve found that very few things, if any, affect only the mind. Or the heart.  Or the soul.  Or the body.  We may try to pretend that only one part is affected, but the reality is they’re all tied together.

So I’m tired. Or rather, my body is trying to just catch up to the rest of my life.

Its been well documented here what a difficult time L has been having recently.  I started to wonder if it had anything to do with how many hours my husband had to put in at work recently, both with evenings and weekends, and if L was responding to that.

I don’t think its a coincidence that shortly after my husband’s (J’s) crazy hours stopped, L started to calm down.  Turns out, J has a huge affect on L’s well-being.

Now, the feminist in me kinda hates that.  “I should be enough!” my ego cries.  And I know of many single-parent, female-headed households that have raised boys with great success.

But… the fact is that L was hurt by his bio-dad.  And then spent a long period of time in a foster home with a very dominant – not in a good way – woman.  So its only natural that he would respond so strongly to J.  Especially since J is one of the most nurturing, kind hearted men I know.  When daddy’s around, L feels safe in a way he just can’t feel when daddy’s not around.

Now of course, our goal is for him to feel safe at all times, whether daddy has to work a lot or not.  But in the meantime, I can be grateful to have a husband who makes my son feel safe.  L deserves to feel safe.