I got letter a couple of weeks ago from someone in the child welfare system saying I had not applied to adopt in the state but they knew of no reason why I could not adopt. Unfortunately for them I kept a copy of the original application to adopt that I filed with them.
The “cc” list gets longer every time they send me a letter these days. That is not helping them tell the truth yet but I remain hopeful. I have been working with a representative from the governor’s advocacy office but I do not hold out much hope for her efforts. She is nice but had no clue where the actual file has kept and keeps getting stone-walled by her own people. Apparently the state workers made a lot of the paper in my file go missing including the home study. Good thing that I know of people outside the state who have a copy of the home study done for my state simply because I inquired about their kids in other states. Otherwise that home study would be a shredded document unrecoverable. Apparently y original petition to adopt was gone too.
About the same time, a family member of my last placement sent me a picture of the toddler who has cried so much her face was raw in several places. That is not the child I knew first as a baby and then later as a toddler. She had been a happy, easy to parent child. Apparently she is not today.
It is all so sad really. I sometimes do not know what to think. At some fundamental level I cannot believe that all the state workers I dealt with are such awful people. When I cannot sleep at night, I take out the stack of business cards I got from the various people during the two plus years I dealt with them and I marvel at the level of duplicity by so many different people.
I learned somewhere long ago that people tend to judge others from their own perspective. I certainly do. Since I tend to tell the truth and be straightforward about things I generally expect others are too. Especially in the serious business of adoption. Lives are at stake. I expected that when I was being honest and forthright with the state people they were doing the same with me. That was not true.
I look back on so many interactions and see them differently now. Some things I realize now make me kind of ill. In other instances my sense of what was wrong was on target and I feel better because I knew I was right about “x” “y” or “z.”
When I first visited my son Alex in his remote orphanage, on that second day in 2008, I was silently confronted by a line of boys against a wall desperately pleading with me with only their eyes. I will never forget those children. Those boys burned a hole in my heart that will
never heal – I still weep for them in my dreams. If I could stand it, I could still sit down
and draw their faces from memory. It is as if I saw them just yesterday, the image of their pain and despair is still so fresh in my mind.
The mark left on my soul by those boys is now accompanied by the pain I am experiencing for the children previously placed in my home but now lost in the system. My foster-to-adopt placements left my home in the most troubling of ways and I now worry for them.
I trusted that the people charged with their well-being would not cause further damage to these babies and toddlers I so carefully healed and nurtured. I was wrong to trust.
I find myself in the oddest sort of a grieving situation. I know the kids are not in the best of places and there is really nothing I can do t help them other than file the administrative
complaints. So far the people giving me help from attorneys are confirming that the violations of law and civil rights are very clear.
I think about the first foster-to-adopt toddler who was placed with me when he was 18-months old. He and his three-year-old brother were my beginning in the state system.
He came to me with his legs covered in staph infection (the case worker told me they were spider bites) because the kids had been left in a van for a few days and had been discovered in filth. I remember that kid being so needing of my love that he insisted on wrapping himself around my leg in the spring when I was transplanting my rose bushes from the side yard into the back planter. I had to simply dig holes with him clinging.
I remember him coming back from overnight visits with his mom, dehydrated, starving and bruised. I remember the case worker explaining it away. I remember their fear the day they left my home for good. I remember the oldest boy telling me that his mom would sell their clothing for a $1 a piece so could I please hold something back for them which I did.
Last year about this time, I called my state certifier and she was laughing because the boys were back in her office starving, dirty and without any clothing. She asked me if I could hear them in the background. I asked if I could be a resource for them. There was no response. I then
left subsequent messages with her and the case worker for the boys asking to please be able to be there for those boys. No response.
I find myself often unable to sleep now. The law is clear about the ultimate legal rights in my situation but it becomes exceedingly fuzzy in its protection of children in the system. I talk about the ones I know but I wonder about all the others. How much more damage is being done.
A lot I think.
So I wait for the governor’s office and the federal fact finders to do their thing. And I feel
like I have let my kids down. I have of course because I cannot figure out how to help them. I am lost in the ickiness of the state that destroys their childhood.
Someone talking to me once was disparaging about how Russia handles their children who need a home. I never thought much about that opinion because I knew my son lives because of all the people that cared for him in Russia before I was even a possible mama for him. Even the ministry department offered me all his baby pictures in the file so that he could have everything possible. I knew the Russians cared so much for the children abandoned that I adopted again simply because I knew the best was done in the circumstances.
Having spent some time in both systems now, I would say the children in Russia are treated better than kids in the state foster care system.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
A boy and his dog
Life is a balance.
Finally, finally, finally – Alex was ready for a dog and we saw the perfect dog. We named him Boomer of course because, as Alex noted, he goes “boom boom” through the house. This puppy is five months old and has some of the biggest paws I have ever seen. Dude is going to be one huge dog. :)
Alex is over the moon – he got a dog who can play fetch. He could not be happier. There is nothing more moving than a boy and his dog. They keep trying to sneak into bedtime together. As is necessary with most Labs, Boomer has to be put away at night for his own good. The other day he chewed through an extension cord and yelped when he got a shock. That has not stopped him from finding a loose molding, tearing it loose and chewing beyond all recognition. I wonder if there is insurance to cover the puppyhood of a lab/border collie mix. Probably not. I fear for the piano. I fear for all my books. I fear for the front door. No way is that dog getting in my newly bought car - I have heard stories about entire interiors being eaten by such puppies.
I have told the kids to put their toys on higher ground or Boomer will eat them. Daria refused to listen and has lost two fairy barbies to this cutie.
Alex is much wiser and guards his intendo plug with an almost religious zeal. He also made sure all his stuff is out of puppy teeth range. Alex loves this dog and never complains about clean-up, feeding or walking. The unconditional love between these two brings tears to my eyes. This is what I wanted for my son when I brought him home – to know love, joy and a sense of belonging. We are there and it is a good thing.
I have told the kids to put their toys on higher ground or Boomer will eat them. Daria refused to listen and has lost two fairy barbies to this cutie.
Alex is much wiser and guards his intendo plug with an almost religious zeal. He also made sure all his stuff is out of puppy teeth range. Alex loves this dog and never complains about clean-up, feeding or walking. The unconditional love between these two brings tears to my eyes. This is what I wanted for my son when I brought him home – to know love, joy and a sense of belonging. We are there and it is a good thing.
I was posting on the blog of a single adoptive mom I find so inspiring and I realized I keep forgetting to talk about all we have learned as a family. In her blog she was talking about, among other things, having a child that still rages. Those are not her exact words but it is close enough. We are a happy family but Alex still goes there. As I typed and worked through the issue while posting on her blog, I wondered if that is where the pathways of the brains always lead the kids back to when they are under duress to what I call the "before time."
I wondered if all that behavior simply a testing when they are scared. Those were not the words I used as I typed my thoughts out to the world but that is what whispers in the back of my mind. Alex and I spent most of Sunday at the emergency room in the children’s hospital because of still unresolved pain issues in his mouth due to cleft anomalies – I think. The doctors have a variety of other possible positions. I am lucky though – the specialists are watching and we will see.
Just recently Alex told me that he did “all those things” because he was so scared. His unsolicited words not mine. Maybe that is why he still does that really difficult stuff sometimes still. Maybe I just don’t see all the things that scare him – I only pay attention to drama that affects me. I feel the buttons being punched and the quality of life ebbing away – I forget what he has told me in the quiet moments – he does that stuff when he is really, really, really scared.
It takes a special courage to love and parent a traumatized child.
I remain convinced it is worth it. As I have said, my son has hardened my position about adoption. I cannot image him left alone in the before time.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Would I do it again?
I was reading the blog of an amazing single adoptive mom I felt inspired to talk a bit about the question of whether I would adopt a child like my Alex again. I have been doodling about other things but I thought I should take a break and share my perspective.
I understand about not giving advice concerning the decision to adopt. I too tell people to search their hearts and think about it. I also tell them that everyone breaks when parenting this kind of child; the difference is in how you respond and what you decide to make of it. I became a different person because of my son. I like to think I became more human.
Someone asked me recently if I would do it again. It just happened to be a day when I was tired of it being an extra effort week. I first thought no, I wouldn’t do it again. It was so hard. It takes so much. I’d rather go to the gym than sit in yet another school meeting. I’d rather read one of my favorite ancient Greek authors than push reading with long “o” and long “i”. I am so tired of playing the adding game with Alex every spare moment in between doctor visits, etc.
Then I look at my son and I see the dramatic difference I have made in his life. A child lost was saved. A child thrown away has a place in the world now. I gave a human being a chance. He can do with it what he will. I hope for the best of course but I will live with the rest. He is my son.
I do believe that my son hardened my position about adoption. Yet, I cannot say I would persuade anyone to my position because it is simply the one I believe I am meant to take. I would be reluctant to try and persuade anyone to the path because it takes such a personal expenditure of strength and dedication. It also requires the destruction of your prior life to some extent. I also hope that my children would think twice about making such a choice. But then I remember how wonderful Alex was with traumatized foster children in my home. He literally helped them heal before my eyes. His history has given him such empathy for another child who has been in harms way, so I don’t know. The choice would be his.
Then, I remember that when I adopted my daughter I specifically looked for a kid that needed a special kind of Mom. I often joked about it but it is true – I did it again just to let people know the first time wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. I meant to be their Mom.
And then, despite all the dire prognostications, she came home a normal little girl. No drama. No nightmares. Nothing. She may be ODD but she does in such a charming, passive aggressive way, it is like a breath of fresh air. It makes me laugh. It is also part of her survival tool arsenal so I work at redirecting her life and let it ride just a bit. Unlike a lot of adoptive parents I walked down the hallway saw, heard and smelled the living hell of her life. Me and another were severely worried about our safety. I am still at a loss as to how to talk about that place. Having been there gives me a bit of an intimate perspective as to why she does some of what she does. I just hope she lets up on torturing her teachers soon.
I think part of the reason I adopted, and would do it again is because I have seen the difference I make. I wrote last week about a van driver for Alex’s school hitting him. I would like to point out that the little boy I once knew would have hit back and/or escalated to such an extent he would have literally torn the inside of the van apart. He would have become a screaming monster, uncontrollable in the extreme. He would have opened doors and attempted to jump into oncoming traffic. It has happened in the past.
Instead, last week he came off the van went to his grandmother’s vehicle (because they were to go meet me) and just sobbed uncontrollably. He did not know I was there. When I opened that door he reached out to me and held on tight. We then tried to get the school to stop the problem. The director’s office of the special ed department said they would not stop the situation. They said nothing happened despite witnesses and evidence.
Tonight we filed a police report about the assault on Alex. He told the police officer what happened. He got to tell. What a miracle for Alex. Not only was he able to talk about it, but someone listened. A police officer would not let a man hit him. All trauma kids should get a chance to experience their trauma in a healing way. Alex learned that it is not OKAY for someone to hurt you. He got back a bit of his faith in humanity.
I have never met this van driver, the one the school district will not reassign, but I do not feel the least bit kindly toward him. I need to keep at least fifty feet away from him because I am so mad that he hit Alex. Actually I am so beyond rage at this person. I think of all the stuff that Alex has done, blah, blah, blah in addition to all the thousands of hours he raged and generally tried to destroy the house, myself, himself or anything else within reach and I never once raised a hand to him. I think about all many, many, many hours spent with trauma therapists, psychologists and head docs trying to get this one little boy stable and I find myself less than happy with one man who felt it was okay to yell and hit my son during a less than five minute ride home.
So we filed the police report. And I watched the police officer get Alex to tell her things I hadn’t thought about. I saw my very wonderfully honest son tell her about his experience. He made me so proud. He did a good job of explaining himself.
Yeah, I would do it again. My son was thrown away and lost. He has been found. Here, close to my heart he will remain. My son does okay. We all do okay.
Have a great Friday, Mama Sarah
I understand about not giving advice concerning the decision to adopt. I too tell people to search their hearts and think about it. I also tell them that everyone breaks when parenting this kind of child; the difference is in how you respond and what you decide to make of it. I became a different person because of my son. I like to think I became more human.
Someone asked me recently if I would do it again. It just happened to be a day when I was tired of it being an extra effort week. I first thought no, I wouldn’t do it again. It was so hard. It takes so much. I’d rather go to the gym than sit in yet another school meeting. I’d rather read one of my favorite ancient Greek authors than push reading with long “o” and long “i”. I am so tired of playing the adding game with Alex every spare moment in between doctor visits, etc.
Then I look at my son and I see the dramatic difference I have made in his life. A child lost was saved. A child thrown away has a place in the world now. I gave a human being a chance. He can do with it what he will. I hope for the best of course but I will live with the rest. He is my son.
I do believe that my son hardened my position about adoption. Yet, I cannot say I would persuade anyone to my position because it is simply the one I believe I am meant to take. I would be reluctant to try and persuade anyone to the path because it takes such a personal expenditure of strength and dedication. It also requires the destruction of your prior life to some extent. I also hope that my children would think twice about making such a choice. But then I remember how wonderful Alex was with traumatized foster children in my home. He literally helped them heal before my eyes. His history has given him such empathy for another child who has been in harms way, so I don’t know. The choice would be his.
Then, I remember that when I adopted my daughter I specifically looked for a kid that needed a special kind of Mom. I often joked about it but it is true – I did it again just to let people know the first time wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a mistake. I meant to be their Mom.
And then, despite all the dire prognostications, she came home a normal little girl. No drama. No nightmares. Nothing. She may be ODD but she does in such a charming, passive aggressive way, it is like a breath of fresh air. It makes me laugh. It is also part of her survival tool arsenal so I work at redirecting her life and let it ride just a bit. Unlike a lot of adoptive parents I walked down the hallway saw, heard and smelled the living hell of her life. Me and another were severely worried about our safety. I am still at a loss as to how to talk about that place. Having been there gives me a bit of an intimate perspective as to why she does some of what she does. I just hope she lets up on torturing her teachers soon.
I think part of the reason I adopted, and would do it again is because I have seen the difference I make. I wrote last week about a van driver for Alex’s school hitting him. I would like to point out that the little boy I once knew would have hit back and/or escalated to such an extent he would have literally torn the inside of the van apart. He would have become a screaming monster, uncontrollable in the extreme. He would have opened doors and attempted to jump into oncoming traffic. It has happened in the past.
Instead, last week he came off the van went to his grandmother’s vehicle (because they were to go meet me) and just sobbed uncontrollably. He did not know I was there. When I opened that door he reached out to me and held on tight. We then tried to get the school to stop the problem. The director’s office of the special ed department said they would not stop the situation. They said nothing happened despite witnesses and evidence.
Tonight we filed a police report about the assault on Alex. He told the police officer what happened. He got to tell. What a miracle for Alex. Not only was he able to talk about it, but someone listened. A police officer would not let a man hit him. All trauma kids should get a chance to experience their trauma in a healing way. Alex learned that it is not OKAY for someone to hurt you. He got back a bit of his faith in humanity.
I have never met this van driver, the one the school district will not reassign, but I do not feel the least bit kindly toward him. I need to keep at least fifty feet away from him because I am so mad that he hit Alex. Actually I am so beyond rage at this person. I think of all the stuff that Alex has done, blah, blah, blah in addition to all the thousands of hours he raged and generally tried to destroy the house, myself, himself or anything else within reach and I never once raised a hand to him. I think about all many, many, many hours spent with trauma therapists, psychologists and head docs trying to get this one little boy stable and I find myself less than happy with one man who felt it was okay to yell and hit my son during a less than five minute ride home.
So we filed the police report. And I watched the police officer get Alex to tell her things I hadn’t thought about. I saw my very wonderfully honest son tell her about his experience. He made me so proud. He did a good job of explaining himself.
Yeah, I would do it again. My son was thrown away and lost. He has been found. Here, close to my heart he will remain. My son does okay. We all do okay.
Have a great Friday, Mama Sarah
Monday, February 20, 2012
Thought about the Adoption Wars this weekend and stripped wallpaper
The boy wonder helped for most of the weekend when he was not doing homework or reading. Daria has continued her refusal to do work at school so she spent much of the weekend also doing homework as well has her school work sent home while I stripped wallpaper off by hand.
The house my Mom used to live in before joining us two blocks away has lath and plaster walls so it was unclear what I would face when peeling decades of wallpaper so I did the job by hand. For the most part it was much better than expected. I got enough done to do a test of the texturing I will apply once it is all gone. Pretty nice but it sure smells awful. I probably need to break out the summer fans and make sure the kids do not come over when I do that part.
Other than that and a few other minor things, the house will be good to go. I remain conflicted about what to do about it so for the interim I will set up my doll house projects there. I have a millenary that is built, has most of the stuff bought to fill it and still needs to be wired. It is four feet long by 2 ½ wide so it needs some room. I also need to finish wiring the outside street lamp that came with it and figure out something for the landscaping. Yikes, and I thought I could exhibit it by May. Probably not.
There is also the Beacon house with mansard roofs and three stories. There are at least two other 1 inch scale doll houses in partial states of being built that were moved to the garage when my house started filling with toddlers. Of course boy wonder and princess have their own doll houses complete with individualized furniture. Alex has been going to local doll house conventions with me for a couple of years so he already has a “collection” going.
That reminds me; a relative of my last pre-adoptive foster child sent me a picture of the toddler a week into her new placement. It is a picture to hurt the heart of any mama. The little girl is smiling for the camera and is sitting on a rocking horse but her eyes are so sad. It is clear that she has been crying so much that her face and eyes are raw and puffy. The happy and sweet little girl I knew is not in that picture. The joy she was once filled with is gone. I pray for that child every day. I pray that God hears her heart and finds what is best for that child.
So the state did what all of us hoped would not happen – they did not do what was best for that child. She will be the third generation of her birth family (on both sides) lost to the state system of determining what is best for children. She is another child is lost to hope.
That is one of the lessons learned in the adoption wars. Children are lost all the time. Children are abused by the bureaucratic systems charged with their care. The feelings, hopes and preferences of children are disregarded. They are not given a choice. People who do not know them decide their fate. People who do not know them scar these children in harms’ way for life. They break the hearts of children.
The adoption wars are not for the faint of heart. People with gentle souls need to get out of the field because there is a lot of heart ache to go around.
The children that come home to us are so much more precious given that reality. I have learned that through my kids.
Doing the right thing for kids is hard. Every day, I do what I think I need to do and then I hope. Alex for sure is a difficult case given all the abuse and prior in-country adoptive disruption he suffered. We are attached but who knows. Given his particulars I was tearfully prepared to be the one that adopted him but had to disrupt so that he could attach to a second family. I have heard about that reality so many times and my heart simply hurts for the parents faced with that choice. I remain convinced it is a choice forced by the child for a variety of reasons. I remain a lucky girl that Alex decided to attached and remain with me. At the end of the day it was his choice.
Anyway, anyway, anyway. I still have way too many doll house kits. I am currently working in quarter scale at the house because it is smaller and easier to manage but I am now dreaming of setting up all the one inch scale unfinished projects and working on them. I have just stacks and stacks and stacks of unbuilt houses. The joy of it all! Right now I need to stop thinking about the adoption wars and go build something before I go to bed.
The kids are bringing their trains, cars, baby dolls and fairies to play in amongst my houses. We have balance. Life is good. Have a wonderful day, Mama Sarah
The house my Mom used to live in before joining us two blocks away has lath and plaster walls so it was unclear what I would face when peeling decades of wallpaper so I did the job by hand. For the most part it was much better than expected. I got enough done to do a test of the texturing I will apply once it is all gone. Pretty nice but it sure smells awful. I probably need to break out the summer fans and make sure the kids do not come over when I do that part.
Other than that and a few other minor things, the house will be good to go. I remain conflicted about what to do about it so for the interim I will set up my doll house projects there. I have a millenary that is built, has most of the stuff bought to fill it and still needs to be wired. It is four feet long by 2 ½ wide so it needs some room. I also need to finish wiring the outside street lamp that came with it and figure out something for the landscaping. Yikes, and I thought I could exhibit it by May. Probably not.
There is also the Beacon house with mansard roofs and three stories. There are at least two other 1 inch scale doll houses in partial states of being built that were moved to the garage when my house started filling with toddlers. Of course boy wonder and princess have their own doll houses complete with individualized furniture. Alex has been going to local doll house conventions with me for a couple of years so he already has a “collection” going.
That reminds me; a relative of my last pre-adoptive foster child sent me a picture of the toddler a week into her new placement. It is a picture to hurt the heart of any mama. The little girl is smiling for the camera and is sitting on a rocking horse but her eyes are so sad. It is clear that she has been crying so much that her face and eyes are raw and puffy. The happy and sweet little girl I knew is not in that picture. The joy she was once filled with is gone. I pray for that child every day. I pray that God hears her heart and finds what is best for that child.
So the state did what all of us hoped would not happen – they did not do what was best for that child. She will be the third generation of her birth family (on both sides) lost to the state system of determining what is best for children. She is another child is lost to hope.
That is one of the lessons learned in the adoption wars. Children are lost all the time. Children are abused by the bureaucratic systems charged with their care. The feelings, hopes and preferences of children are disregarded. They are not given a choice. People who do not know them decide their fate. People who do not know them scar these children in harms’ way for life. They break the hearts of children.
The adoption wars are not for the faint of heart. People with gentle souls need to get out of the field because there is a lot of heart ache to go around.
The children that come home to us are so much more precious given that reality. I have learned that through my kids.
Doing the right thing for kids is hard. Every day, I do what I think I need to do and then I hope. Alex for sure is a difficult case given all the abuse and prior in-country adoptive disruption he suffered. We are attached but who knows. Given his particulars I was tearfully prepared to be the one that adopted him but had to disrupt so that he could attach to a second family. I have heard about that reality so many times and my heart simply hurts for the parents faced with that choice. I remain convinced it is a choice forced by the child for a variety of reasons. I remain a lucky girl that Alex decided to attached and remain with me. At the end of the day it was his choice.
Anyway, anyway, anyway. I still have way too many doll house kits. I am currently working in quarter scale at the house because it is smaller and easier to manage but I am now dreaming of setting up all the one inch scale unfinished projects and working on them. I have just stacks and stacks and stacks of unbuilt houses. The joy of it all! Right now I need to stop thinking about the adoption wars and go build something before I go to bed.
The kids are bringing their trains, cars, baby dolls and fairies to play in amongst my houses. We have balance. Life is good. Have a wonderful day, Mama Sarah
Friday, February 17, 2012
Back to the Boy Wonder - My Miracle
I thought the next blog I would be posting would be about the fact that his first round of braces came off yesterday and he was a champ. He is my hero, but the story of his awesomeness at the orthodonist's office took a second chair to his trauma of today.
Living with PTSD does get better. We also learn how to navigate life so as to minimize exposing the trauma person to triggers but life is life and sometimes PTSD heals enough that a person can function again in the face of violence even it seeks them out again. I had a great example of that today.
First, Alex had an awesome day at school. Finally the teachers listened to me about the fact that he had been transferred at the wrong grade level, allowed him to move down into the next room and he did amazing. Absolutely amazing.
Then, Alex got in the van to come home. We live less that ten minutes away but he
is transported to and from school because that is what my school district does for the kids in a B-room or better. I just happened to be home today dropping off Daria before I headed back to work and my Mom told me my son had just been dropped off sobbing. My kid was just short of hysterical. I asked what happened and the driver not only had yelled at him but he had punched him in the knee so hard he was limping. And sobbing. Alex had been punched so hard there was a red mark on his knee cap when the contract transport company told me to check for it. (They told me they thought Alex was lying even though they could hear him sobbing and telling me what was said in the background.)
Setting aside all the people who have heard from me and are going to hear from me; my first concern was for my son. In that other country he lived in before he came home there was a failed adoption wherein the abuse by the adoptive father was so horrific my brain still has a hard time thinking about all the things Alex had to say about it. My son also carries PTSD memories of abuse by older boys. Needless to say I was in a bit of a panic when my sobbing son told me what had happened.
Then amazing thing happened. He did not go into PTSD mode. Then, at some point I realized he has been coping with icky things for awhile. I am not saying he did not still cry and hurt, but he saw me wade in and start to take care of it. I called all the people and made the complaints and demands. I let him tell what he thought they needed to hear about it all. I held him on my lap and gave him comfort. We made a plan if that man showed up again. We made a second plan. And then he calmed down.
He told me to go back to work and then the gym and I did. He told me I needed to go the pool because it made me happy and that he would be okay. He told me he could call if things got bad for him. He got over it. I got home and things were fine. I have the sound monitors on high tonight but I do not think any of the PTSD will trigger.
Alex and I got to this point by hanging on together. We are the lucky ones - we found each other and were allowed to hang on and become a family together. Today Alex dealt with an issue that would have set him back months and months in the beginning. I think I am having a worse time than he is – who knew. It must be a mama thing.
So, I was orginally going to have this post be about Alex being a hero.
He got his latest round of braces off yesterday and given his special cleft situation, we took mold, after mold of his mouth. Towards the end he struck a beautiful yogi pose complete with the complicated leg folding and everything and endured.
My son – the Zen master of orthodontia. I wish I had taken a picture instead of simply being enchanted by the beauty and endurance of my son’s soul.
My son - the Zen master of surviving sucessfully. He is my hero.
Rumor is that, the braces I put on years ago to help him deal with his mouth issues, will come off next week. I hate them and cannot wait for them to be gone. My son has told me he will come and hold my hand because I will probably cry a lot. He is right. I may have taught him the pose and mentality but I totally hate people touching my teeth more than I love peaceful space.
I am blessed to have such a wonderful little boy.
Living with PTSD does get better. We also learn how to navigate life so as to minimize exposing the trauma person to triggers but life is life and sometimes PTSD heals enough that a person can function again in the face of violence even it seeks them out again. I had a great example of that today.
First, Alex had an awesome day at school. Finally the teachers listened to me about the fact that he had been transferred at the wrong grade level, allowed him to move down into the next room and he did amazing. Absolutely amazing.
Then, Alex got in the van to come home. We live less that ten minutes away but he
is transported to and from school because that is what my school district does for the kids in a B-room or better. I just happened to be home today dropping off Daria before I headed back to work and my Mom told me my son had just been dropped off sobbing. My kid was just short of hysterical. I asked what happened and the driver not only had yelled at him but he had punched him in the knee so hard he was limping. And sobbing. Alex had been punched so hard there was a red mark on his knee cap when the contract transport company told me to check for it. (They told me they thought Alex was lying even though they could hear him sobbing and telling me what was said in the background.)
Setting aside all the people who have heard from me and are going to hear from me; my first concern was for my son. In that other country he lived in before he came home there was a failed adoption wherein the abuse by the adoptive father was so horrific my brain still has a hard time thinking about all the things Alex had to say about it. My son also carries PTSD memories of abuse by older boys. Needless to say I was in a bit of a panic when my sobbing son told me what had happened.
Then amazing thing happened. He did not go into PTSD mode. Then, at some point I realized he has been coping with icky things for awhile. I am not saying he did not still cry and hurt, but he saw me wade in and start to take care of it. I called all the people and made the complaints and demands. I let him tell what he thought they needed to hear about it all. I held him on my lap and gave him comfort. We made a plan if that man showed up again. We made a second plan. And then he calmed down.
He told me to go back to work and then the gym and I did. He told me I needed to go the pool because it made me happy and that he would be okay. He told me he could call if things got bad for him. He got over it. I got home and things were fine. I have the sound monitors on high tonight but I do not think any of the PTSD will trigger.
Alex and I got to this point by hanging on together. We are the lucky ones - we found each other and were allowed to hang on and become a family together. Today Alex dealt with an issue that would have set him back months and months in the beginning. I think I am having a worse time than he is – who knew. It must be a mama thing.
So, I was orginally going to have this post be about Alex being a hero.
He got his latest round of braces off yesterday and given his special cleft situation, we took mold, after mold of his mouth. Towards the end he struck a beautiful yogi pose complete with the complicated leg folding and everything and endured.
My son – the Zen master of orthodontia. I wish I had taken a picture instead of simply being enchanted by the beauty and endurance of my son’s soul.
My son - the Zen master of surviving sucessfully. He is my hero.
Rumor is that, the braces I put on years ago to help him deal with his mouth issues, will come off next week. I hate them and cannot wait for them to be gone. My son has told me he will come and hold my hand because I will probably cry a lot. He is right. I may have taught him the pose and mentality but I totally hate people touching my teeth more than I love peaceful space.
I am blessed to have such a wonderful little boy.
Just a quick note on my being told I will never adopt through my State because I am single
It isn't because of anything I did and/or didn't do. It isn't because of anything Alex did and/or didn't do. They had us under a microscope for 26 months and found nothing in even the most trying of circumstances. They even acknowledge that fact.
They just will not let me adopt because I am single. That is not an okay reason. That is not a legally defensible reason. I have been trying to work with my state's Governor's advocacy office but while they are nice, it does not look promising. I have also filed with the federal agency that oversees state agencies concerning adoption. That agency openly publishes their decisions that reverse state actions that are happening to me with less evidentiary grounds.
I wonder how many people out there did not know their state was not the last word on this issue. I wonder how many potentially awesome parents are turned away by such state activities. I wonder how many mama hearts have been broken.
That being said, I am in the process of getting another blog up about this issue because I think it is timely. There are lots of kids that need a home. I suspect there are a lot of parents out there that simply are being denied the opportunity to offer their home to these kids in need for no good reason.
Kind of makes me weep.
They just will not let me adopt because I am single. That is not an okay reason. That is not a legally defensible reason. I have been trying to work with my state's Governor's advocacy office but while they are nice, it does not look promising. I have also filed with the federal agency that oversees state agencies concerning adoption. That agency openly publishes their decisions that reverse state actions that are happening to me with less evidentiary grounds.
I wonder how many people out there did not know their state was not the last word on this issue. I wonder how many potentially awesome parents are turned away by such state activities. I wonder how many mama hearts have been broken.
That being said, I am in the process of getting another blog up about this issue because I think it is timely. There are lots of kids that need a home. I suspect there are a lot of parents out there that simply are being denied the opportunity to offer their home to these kids in need for no good reason.
Kind of makes me weep.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Wow - what a day!
Wow. I am still reading the blog of what may be my new hero. And I thought my day went a bit south. At least do not have teenagers – yet. Yikes. I am already bracing for when Alex is driving age. He is so not going to be okay with me hiding the car keys until he is twenty. But I will unless I see his emotional age come up to meet his intellectual and physical age. There are two schools of thought on this issue of course. Some say he will and some say he won’t make the emotional leap forward. I plan for the worst and hope for the best. Alex has a way of surprising people.
Anyway, I finished putting everyone to bed and had a bit of a hissy fit complete with yelling and a few stomps that only my Mom saw. Today has SO not been my day.
I had a couple of those special ed meetings today for two different kids. At one meeting I had to be nice to a teacher that has made it so much more difficult for my little one home from Russia for only nine months. I so wanted to tell her all about it in Russian which I studied for my kids. That teacher speaks Russian so communication is not an issue. I so am not happy with people who treated cleft kids differently. Of course I was the adult and let it go. But I was not happy.
I then was the treat fairy to my kid’s classrooms and watched my nine-year-old disengage from reading time. No wonder he gets marked down for his behavior during that time of the day. I have never seen such poor, yet still complying with the rules, behavior. Wow. I am so incredibly impressed that he can behave so poorly while keeping the classroom rules. Surely such genius can be channeled for the greater good. He does take a person to the edge of sanity though – I feel for his teacher who is awesome but has thrown in the towel so we are going to try a different room.
Sometimes, as the daughter of a Marine, I think I should just hand out at mental helmets and flack jackets to my son’s teachers. That kid can really break a person down.
It wasn’t even 10 am when I hit the office at work and that was a crazy, crazy, crazy day there. I also got a call from the Governor’s office concerning the adoption issue on the home front that just meant I spent the night gathering papers, scanning them and then sending them by email. Apparently it was okay for state case workers to basically refuse to address the complaint - that is until the Governor's office heard I had already filed the discrimination complaint with the federal government.
Then, only then, did my Governor's office, charged with investigating discrimination begin to move. They kicked their state law obligations to the county level and they are out of time. I think I am sad. I do not know what to do to help them be better. I want them to be better because children and parents are desperately looking to them to help everyone. Frankly, if my super liberal county workers find a single woman with a strong support system and an excellent job unacceptable, what about all the others? I have a good parenting track record - what happens to the others?
I like the person I talk to there but my heart wonders - how many awesome parents are lost for kids that need them. I know I am awesome parent. I do it every day. I have done this for the state kids too.
Opportunities in life are like windows in time. Building families in time takes windows of opportunity. The windows of the parents need to line up with the windows of the kid(s) – those are the moments of opportunity - and then we all need to leap. We trust those who help line it all up. I do not yet know what to say about when the people we trust to hold our hands as we leap fail us.
I sought the state adoption option because their website described such a robust post-adoption support system. Given I had such little agency support in my first adoption I found that description to be so amazingly wonderful. Little did I know that the people touting their post-adoption support system would one day tell me I could never adopt because I was single. That was unexpected.
So I was nice to the Governor's office person and said I would send all that I had. Then my email server crashed partway through. Goodness it has been a day.
Anyway, the kids were in high gear – deregulation everywhere. I think I did go into the kitchen and cry a bit just so that I would not totally lose it. Calmness is the only path through it all. I used to say at work – fake it until you make it. That approach kind of works for the kids too. Even when I am so not calm, as long as the kids think I am, it all eventually evens out. Of course my hair is turning white at an amazing rate. Good thing I am blond. ;)
This day used to be one of my favorites. I love hearts, the color pink and I am kind of a sappy girl – sometimes. Now I see my kids struggle with this message of love and what it means in their lives. The kids try so hard. They misbehave and still hope for the box of chocolate. I was so close to eating their lovely candy last night – they just do not know how much I love them and want to give them more than they think they deserve.
I think this holiday will be hard for them until that feeling of love seems like something they can have – forever. And maybe they will never know for sure. I can be okay with that too. I will still try to make sure they know I love them – no matter what.
My son made me a bracelet made of hearts strung on a pipe cleaner. That is my new favorite piece of jewelry – if I can just stop stomping out the emotional brush fires long enough to put it on.
I still love pink though – and hearts. Maybe someday my kids will trust in my love enough to not make it such a difficult day. I still think I should have gotten a Valentine Day family portrait. We do it for Christmas, why not for the day of love? I told you I was a sap. :)
Anyway, I finished putting everyone to bed and had a bit of a hissy fit complete with yelling and a few stomps that only my Mom saw. Today has SO not been my day.
I had a couple of those special ed meetings today for two different kids. At one meeting I had to be nice to a teacher that has made it so much more difficult for my little one home from Russia for only nine months. I so wanted to tell her all about it in Russian which I studied for my kids. That teacher speaks Russian so communication is not an issue. I so am not happy with people who treated cleft kids differently. Of course I was the adult and let it go. But I was not happy.
I then was the treat fairy to my kid’s classrooms and watched my nine-year-old disengage from reading time. No wonder he gets marked down for his behavior during that time of the day. I have never seen such poor, yet still complying with the rules, behavior. Wow. I am so incredibly impressed that he can behave so poorly while keeping the classroom rules. Surely such genius can be channeled for the greater good. He does take a person to the edge of sanity though – I feel for his teacher who is awesome but has thrown in the towel so we are going to try a different room.
Sometimes, as the daughter of a Marine, I think I should just hand out at mental helmets and flack jackets to my son’s teachers. That kid can really break a person down.
It wasn’t even 10 am when I hit the office at work and that was a crazy, crazy, crazy day there. I also got a call from the Governor’s office concerning the adoption issue on the home front that just meant I spent the night gathering papers, scanning them and then sending them by email. Apparently it was okay for state case workers to basically refuse to address the complaint - that is until the Governor's office heard I had already filed the discrimination complaint with the federal government.
Then, only then, did my Governor's office, charged with investigating discrimination begin to move. They kicked their state law obligations to the county level and they are out of time. I think I am sad. I do not know what to do to help them be better. I want them to be better because children and parents are desperately looking to them to help everyone. Frankly, if my super liberal county workers find a single woman with a strong support system and an excellent job unacceptable, what about all the others? I have a good parenting track record - what happens to the others?
I like the person I talk to there but my heart wonders - how many awesome parents are lost for kids that need them. I know I am awesome parent. I do it every day. I have done this for the state kids too.
Opportunities in life are like windows in time. Building families in time takes windows of opportunity. The windows of the parents need to line up with the windows of the kid(s) – those are the moments of opportunity - and then we all need to leap. We trust those who help line it all up. I do not yet know what to say about when the people we trust to hold our hands as we leap fail us.
I sought the state adoption option because their website described such a robust post-adoption support system. Given I had such little agency support in my first adoption I found that description to be so amazingly wonderful. Little did I know that the people touting their post-adoption support system would one day tell me I could never adopt because I was single. That was unexpected.
So I was nice to the Governor's office person and said I would send all that I had. Then my email server crashed partway through. Goodness it has been a day.
Anyway, the kids were in high gear – deregulation everywhere. I think I did go into the kitchen and cry a bit just so that I would not totally lose it. Calmness is the only path through it all. I used to say at work – fake it until you make it. That approach kind of works for the kids too. Even when I am so not calm, as long as the kids think I am, it all eventually evens out. Of course my hair is turning white at an amazing rate. Good thing I am blond. ;)
This day used to be one of my favorites. I love hearts, the color pink and I am kind of a sappy girl – sometimes. Now I see my kids struggle with this message of love and what it means in their lives. The kids try so hard. They misbehave and still hope for the box of chocolate. I was so close to eating their lovely candy last night – they just do not know how much I love them and want to give them more than they think they deserve.
I think this holiday will be hard for them until that feeling of love seems like something they can have – forever. And maybe they will never know for sure. I can be okay with that too. I will still try to make sure they know I love them – no matter what.
My son made me a bracelet made of hearts strung on a pipe cleaner. That is my new favorite piece of jewelry – if I can just stop stomping out the emotional brush fires long enough to put it on.
I still love pink though – and hearts. Maybe someday my kids will trust in my love enough to not make it such a difficult day. I still think I should have gotten a Valentine Day family portrait. We do it for Christmas, why not for the day of love? I told you I was a sap. :)
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
This too Shall Pass (a must see!)
I have been a bit of a missing person the past while. I apologize. I hope to rectify. I have been reading the words of the most amazing woman. I will explain later. Anyway, in addition to Alex having life changing reconstructive surgery he became a child that can be considered for a mainstream classroom. We are not there but it will happen - eventually - when he wants it more than he wants to test the world. Also, he is worried because his classmates like his mom and he does not want to share. :)
So the last couple years I have adopted his sister and was a foster-to-adopt parent in my state. I have been on quite a ride. Getting Daria out of a pysciatric ward in Russia was a breeze compared to what I have lived through domestically. The foster story is a story for another day.
Getting back to the most amazing woman - she is single and is the Mom to 39 kids. No kidding! And she warms my heart everyday. Her oldest daugther posted a link to this marching band from Notre Dame - it is called This Too Shall Pass. Here is the link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJKythlXAIY&feature=player_embedded#! You simply have to see it. It warms my heart and makes me glad to endure. Also I marched in my school days so it has a sense of home for me.
This most amazing woman makes me want to talk to the world again. I keep saying things on her blog and I finally realized, I am ready to talk again. The best of life - the good and the not so great.
And I want to talk about when the morning comes - and it does. As for the video I cannot decide which position I play in life. I would prefer to be the snare or acordian but I may be the voice.
oh yeah - my state told me Janaury 2012 they would never recommend me for adoption because I am single. After a dozen foster kids and two adoptive children, such words were unexpected. They also violate state and federal law.
I am ready to talk.
I filed a compliant with the federal agency that oversees state adoption operations.
I think I have found my voice again.
If you struggle with difficult children or are a trauma parent, check out the champion at: http://thebodiebunch.blogspot.com/
This woman is awesome.
Finally, on a personal note - no surgeries for Alex this year!!!!!!!!! And I will post pictures soon - I promise.
So the last couple years I have adopted his sister and was a foster-to-adopt parent in my state. I have been on quite a ride. Getting Daria out of a pysciatric ward in Russia was a breeze compared to what I have lived through domestically. The foster story is a story for another day.
Getting back to the most amazing woman - she is single and is the Mom to 39 kids. No kidding! And she warms my heart everyday. Her oldest daugther posted a link to this marching band from Notre Dame - it is called This Too Shall Pass. Here is the link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UJKythlXAIY&feature=player_embedded#! You simply have to see it. It warms my heart and makes me glad to endure. Also I marched in my school days so it has a sense of home for me.
This most amazing woman makes me want to talk to the world again. I keep saying things on her blog and I finally realized, I am ready to talk again. The best of life - the good and the not so great.
And I want to talk about when the morning comes - and it does. As for the video I cannot decide which position I play in life. I would prefer to be the snare or acordian but I may be the voice.
oh yeah - my state told me Janaury 2012 they would never recommend me for adoption because I am single. After a dozen foster kids and two adoptive children, such words were unexpected. They also violate state and federal law.
I am ready to talk.
I filed a compliant with the federal agency that oversees state adoption operations.
I think I have found my voice again.
If you struggle with difficult children or are a trauma parent, check out the champion at: http://thebodiebunch.blogspot.com/
This woman is awesome.
Finally, on a personal note - no surgeries for Alex this year!!!!!!!!! And I will post pictures soon - I promise.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Everthing went well!
It is like a miracle when I see my son's face. He looks so amazing. I see cheekbones and a true front to his face. It is weird to say but skin and flesh simply look different with bone beneath. I am a Mama who sometimes watches her child while he sleeps (like every other awesome parent) and I almost do not recognize him. It is not the swelling. There is simply a different shape to the face I love so much.
It is like my loving eye is constantly "readjusting" to see the miracle we wrought for my son. Being a "sometimes slow to change Mama" I already miss the blue tint under his skin that indicated that which was missing. Gone is the worrisome flatness of his rebuilt lip over missing bone. That was the kid I worried about and protected from so much.
It is kind of silly, the doctors keep checking with me to make sure I have Alex on a soft diet. It is silly because I have always been so careful of anything he eats. We have talked about it so much he tells other adults what he can eat and why. My son is so precious to me.
Anyway, enough about me. Alex did great. They took bone from his hip and put it where it was missing in the bilateral cleft. He is such a favorite at the hospital. People came from other floors to say hello to him. He also got a huge balloon bouquet with a Scooby doo balloon that is actually larger than his sister. :)
Already the swelling in his face is down and we all see the new Alex - complete with beautiful cheekbones. I keep checking his mouth not only to marvel at the rebuilt palete but to also see the permanent space we made for his front teeth. My son still does not believe that he too will have "spongebob front teeth" but I look at that magic space now in the front for his teeth and I cannot wait. Those are still a bit away but we can all see the space for the dream to manifest.
I just did not know it would be so hard to get his mind away from that other place. I did not know how high the price I would personally pay to stay by his side while he came home and got what he needed.
I did not know I would love him so much - no matter what. That is what we tell each other - "I love you no matter what." I hope all adoptive families get to that point of total acceptance. For both the parent and the child. It is a great place. All adoptions take time for all to adjust.
I see it with our little girl adopted last spring. She came with none of Alex's emotional adjustment issues but it still takes time for her to adjust. We all love each other so much but it is still hard sometimes.
We are lucky to have found each other. Life is good.
It is like my loving eye is constantly "readjusting" to see the miracle we wrought for my son. Being a "sometimes slow to change Mama" I already miss the blue tint under his skin that indicated that which was missing. Gone is the worrisome flatness of his rebuilt lip over missing bone. That was the kid I worried about and protected from so much.
It is kind of silly, the doctors keep checking with me to make sure I have Alex on a soft diet. It is silly because I have always been so careful of anything he eats. We have talked about it so much he tells other adults what he can eat and why. My son is so precious to me.
Anyway, enough about me. Alex did great. They took bone from his hip and put it where it was missing in the bilateral cleft. He is such a favorite at the hospital. People came from other floors to say hello to him. He also got a huge balloon bouquet with a Scooby doo balloon that is actually larger than his sister. :)
Already the swelling in his face is down and we all see the new Alex - complete with beautiful cheekbones. I keep checking his mouth not only to marvel at the rebuilt palete but to also see the permanent space we made for his front teeth. My son still does not believe that he too will have "spongebob front teeth" but I look at that magic space now in the front for his teeth and I cannot wait. Those are still a bit away but we can all see the space for the dream to manifest.
I just did not know it would be so hard to get his mind away from that other place. I did not know how high the price I would personally pay to stay by his side while he came home and got what he needed.
I did not know I would love him so much - no matter what. That is what we tell each other - "I love you no matter what." I hope all adoptive families get to that point of total acceptance. For both the parent and the child. It is a great place. All adoptions take time for all to adjust.
I see it with our little girl adopted last spring. She came with none of Alex's emotional adjustment issues but it still takes time for her to adjust. We all love each other so much but it is still hard sometimes.
We are lucky to have found each other. Life is good.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers tomorrow
As always, I cannot sleep the night before an Alex surgery. Tomorrow we go in for his bone grafts. I think that even this time he is worried though with him it looks like just really bad behavior. At times today he was so on and then there would be these weird behavior spikes. Thank goodness my Mom was here to help me see that at those times today he was just not being my son. Gosh I wish he wouldn't do that because he so has my buttons down. I think he just punched them to make sure that everything at home was normal. Normal Mama response means normal life.
If I was my son and had to face (no pun intended) what he has to, I do not know if I could do it. I try to down play it but this is a big milestone for us in reconstructing his face. I remain sleepless.
So we had his favorite dinner (KFC), did the bath thing and packed our bags. Really we just packed his bag. :) His has cats in toy and book form of course. Dr. Seuss made the cut as did a Russian nursery book I bought way back when we first left the orphanage together. It is the Day and Night book in Russian. I think he also tried to sneak our Maltese into the bag at one point but I was onto it because the bag kept wiggling. BeBe the Bischon is too big so was left to sleep peaceably.
So tomorrow we will take his sister to her Russian immersion kindergarten and then take the train to the hospital. We will confirm the balloons he wants from the gift shop on our way pre-op. We will then create the miracle I hoped for my son when I first decided to adopt him. It will not be the last surgery of course. But it will be the most invasive and the most helpful.
So if you could pray for us that would be awesome. I know that life will be what God wills but sometimes I wonder if he watches over the little ones closer if more of us ask. I know that my heart hopes so and I pray for many kids still not safe.
If I was my son and had to face (no pun intended) what he has to, I do not know if I could do it. I try to down play it but this is a big milestone for us in reconstructing his face. I remain sleepless.
So we had his favorite dinner (KFC), did the bath thing and packed our bags. Really we just packed his bag. :) His has cats in toy and book form of course. Dr. Seuss made the cut as did a Russian nursery book I bought way back when we first left the orphanage together. It is the Day and Night book in Russian. I think he also tried to sneak our Maltese into the bag at one point but I was onto it because the bag kept wiggling. BeBe the Bischon is too big so was left to sleep peaceably.
So tomorrow we will take his sister to her Russian immersion kindergarten and then take the train to the hospital. We will confirm the balloons he wants from the gift shop on our way pre-op. We will then create the miracle I hoped for my son when I first decided to adopt him. It will not be the last surgery of course. But it will be the most invasive and the most helpful.
So if you could pray for us that would be awesome. I know that life will be what God wills but sometimes I wonder if he watches over the little ones closer if more of us ask. I know that my heart hopes so and I pray for many kids still not safe.
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