So, I've figured out why adoption blogs, people in the adoption process, and people who have recently adopted are so off. Right, so I read and meet these folks and they seem slightly strange. For a long time I thought it was because adoption attracts strange people. People who would otherwise be collecting cats or presidential collectible plates or plates with cats on them. They talk to much, they talk about inappropriate things, and they are emotionally clingy.
Well, I may have been a presidential cat plate collector to begin with, but I've figured out that's not why adoptrents are so strange. Its because they are a highly,highly traumatized community. These are people who go through the process of almost maybe having a child- learning close details of the child, spending hours/days proving that they are worthy of the child, and preparing their home for the child- to be rejected.
I could write about the rejection and how that functions and how it's actually ok, but I have to go to clean up my kitchen. So, instead I'll take a minute to tell you a story about a recent interaction:
I had called an left a message for our case worker, she returned my call while I was driving from a meeting to a home visit. I was so elated that she rang that I pulled over into a parking lot. Sitting in a shaded spot, letting the a/c run I had a 12 minute conversation with her. I felt supported and heard. Sort of . . . among other things she said "I was impressed that CPS case workers pulled your file for a case staffing." Really? You were impressed? Because I'm fairly certain that a major part of your job is to make our family seem impressive to CPS case workers.d She did tell me that there are a number of kiddos that might be good fits and she would be sending on their information soon. I can't figure out if I'm a pain in the ass client who doesn't listen to or hear the expectations on me and has unreasonable espectations for the agency, or if my frustrations are legitimate. We'll see.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Book of doooooom
So, here are a few updates:
We "put our hat in the ring" for two brothers, who had a pretty amazing life story- but our family wasn't chosen. The awesome = they now have a permanent family. The sucky = getting a phone call from our case worker that essentially was "you're family isn't good enough."
(Yes, I know that's not what is meant, blah, blah, blah all the comforting stuff one would say, but really truly and honestly- our family was not good enough for those boys, and that's ok, it's just hard to think about).
Our caseworker has gone from being impossible to get a hold of to being inconsistent. I'll count this as an improvement.
We're back to just waiting. But that is really hard for me. I've gotten to the point where I can't help feeling like- if I made more money, had a bigger house, was more christian, less gay, less talkative, more eloquent . . . etc, etc. But deep down and in all my prayers, I know that we will be mamas and we are just waiting for our kiddos to be ready. It's an excruciating wait. But we can handle it.
Even if we are in the "no" pile again and again, I know our frustration is small compared to how amazing it is for kids to find their families.
OH! I should write about the effects of a really shitty law in AZ that essentially means that we could always, always be "nos." I'll do that soon.
Also, I'll write a really pissy rant about the photo book of doom. But not right now, just thinking about it makes me angry.
We "put our hat in the ring" for two brothers, who had a pretty amazing life story- but our family wasn't chosen. The awesome = they now have a permanent family. The sucky = getting a phone call from our case worker that essentially was "you're family isn't good enough."
(Yes, I know that's not what is meant, blah, blah, blah all the comforting stuff one would say, but really truly and honestly- our family was not good enough for those boys, and that's ok, it's just hard to think about).
Our caseworker has gone from being impossible to get a hold of to being inconsistent. I'll count this as an improvement.
We're back to just waiting. But that is really hard for me. I've gotten to the point where I can't help feeling like- if I made more money, had a bigger house, was more christian, less gay, less talkative, more eloquent . . . etc, etc. But deep down and in all my prayers, I know that we will be mamas and we are just waiting for our kiddos to be ready. It's an excruciating wait. But we can handle it.
Even if we are in the "no" pile again and again, I know our frustration is small compared to how amazing it is for kids to find their families.
OH! I should write about the effects of a really shitty law in AZ that essentially means that we could always, always be "nos." I'll do that soon.
Also, I'll write a really pissy rant about the photo book of doom. But not right now, just thinking about it makes me angry.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Room
We're getting close. Or possibly we're still very far away from the moment our kids come home. At this point we are certified, licensed, and ready to go. So much so, in fact, that next weekend we will have two foster boys in our home. Not ours, we will be providing "respite" care for the weekend, because their foster mom has to go out of town and can't take them. Last night I joked that they are a "practice set," I'm sure their mom would not appreciate that. It's more that we're acting as state approved baby sitters.
And yes of course, I'm even excited just to have these little pumpkins in our house for a few days. Nothing specific to them, their status "in the system," or the anticipation of our parenting days to come. I'm excited because they will, for a short time, fill a literal void in our house.
I want someone to create a photobook of waiting rooms . . . no, that's at the doctor's office . . . rooms in waiting . . .empty rooms. Yesterday I figured out we aren't the only ones with a "waiting room." (thank you apartment therapy ).
Ours has two beds, two windows, and a book case. At least that's how we described it in our Scrapbook of Worthiness (the creation of which was it's own special hell). In the past few months, since Barbie gifted us the beds, Carrie helped me build them and Maggie, Jenny, and Nando helped make them soft I've seen the room as 1) a cute set up, like an IKEA display, 2) a funny twist on "guest room," and 3) an empty space. Every night I stick my head in there I say a few prayers, I make sure the beds are still made (yes, this is what I've chosen to fixate on) and I think about what good morning song we should sing. I figured out the state of the room is very important to me. I was crushed to come home and find the slats of the blinds all twisted and mangled, even though I could care less for the blinds themselves.
I don't picture what our house will be like with kids, I can't even begin to. I just know it will different, and I know that I won't have to stumble over words when trying to talk about that back bedroom. If I call it "the kid's room," "the boys room," "the waiting room" I feel crazy. Like batty, daffy, overly sentimental, and dramatic. If I call it "the guest room" people are very confused to see the two twin beds, I usually end up saying the "umm .. uh . . the back bedroom with the beds."
For a little while I took to thinking of it as a sleeping porch (it has nice windows and is very quiet). It's my favorite nap spot, our friends (and our nephew) have slept in the beds, and the dogs have taken to hiding under the beds. But, most of the time, it actually is empty. And its weird to live in a house with a space that isn't being used yet. The _yet_ starts to have a lot of weight.
This post has been brought to you courtesy of:
Medication that made it hard to find my journal
and
A conversation with Sara who is thinking about adoption and a little nervous
And yes of course, I'm even excited just to have these little pumpkins in our house for a few days. Nothing specific to them, their status "in the system," or the anticipation of our parenting days to come. I'm excited because they will, for a short time, fill a literal void in our house.
I want someone to create a photobook of waiting rooms . . . no, that's at the doctor's office . . . rooms in waiting . . .empty rooms. Yesterday I figured out we aren't the only ones with a "waiting room." (thank you apartment therapy ).
Ours has two beds, two windows, and a book case. At least that's how we described it in our Scrapbook of Worthiness (the creation of which was it's own special hell). In the past few months, since Barbie gifted us the beds, Carrie helped me build them and Maggie, Jenny, and Nando helped make them soft I've seen the room as 1) a cute set up, like an IKEA display, 2) a funny twist on "guest room," and 3) an empty space. Every night I stick my head in there I say a few prayers, I make sure the beds are still made (yes, this is what I've chosen to fixate on) and I think about what good morning song we should sing. I figured out the state of the room is very important to me. I was crushed to come home and find the slats of the blinds all twisted and mangled, even though I could care less for the blinds themselves.
I don't picture what our house will be like with kids, I can't even begin to. I just know it will different, and I know that I won't have to stumble over words when trying to talk about that back bedroom. If I call it "the kid's room," "the boys room," "the waiting room" I feel crazy. Like batty, daffy, overly sentimental, and dramatic. If I call it "the guest room" people are very confused to see the two twin beds, I usually end up saying the "umm .. uh . . the back bedroom with the beds."
For a little while I took to thinking of it as a sleeping porch (it has nice windows and is very quiet). It's my favorite nap spot, our friends (and our nephew) have slept in the beds, and the dogs have taken to hiding under the beds. But, most of the time, it actually is empty. And its weird to live in a house with a space that isn't being used yet. The _yet_ starts to have a lot of weight.
This post has been brought to you courtesy of:
Medication that made it hard to find my journal
and
A conversation with Sara who is thinking about adoption and a little nervous
Friday, March 2, 2012
It gets real
Good morning. It's actually 6:07 pm, but I used to have time set aside each morning to write, read, and sit in my big comfy chair. It feels like its been ages since I've been able to do this. But with Len off moving a dyer and the weekend ahead of me, I'll happily take my quiet morning time whenever I can get it.
From what I can tell, these moments are going to become even more rare.
We're at the point where adoption is imminent. You know how pregnant women get about 6 weeks to baby day and start saying "I am so ready to have this baby?" They are crazy. They may want to have the little tenant out of their tummy, but being "ready" is not a thing. Nope, I've decided no one is every ready to have another person pop into their family all "Hey! I'm yours!"
But that's the cool part right? You can't be ready because you never know what's going to happen and what and who your are going to end up with.
Reality struck our house this week, when a very dear dear friend came to visit. The realization that she would be the last person to crash in our guest room before it transforms into the kids room, the trip she made with us to Ikea to buy stuff "for the kids," and knowing that next time she comes to town, she'll be "auntie."
Len says we're pregnant. I've read a few articles about hormonal shifts and crazy physical stuff that happens to adoptive parents. But the thing is- our trip to Ikea felt incognito, no one knew that we were just like all those expectant big bellied Betties wandering around picking out nursery colors, at the grocery store no one asks us when we're bringing home our kiddo, and at work when I go chill to stress ball in a minute, no one thinks about the whole getting ready to have a child thing. It hasn't really bothered me so much, but it's hard for Len, at some point in her life, she had an image of herself as an expectant bio mama. This "pregnancy" is so quick, feels so covert, and is so unknown. I worry that she's missed out on something she expected. I also wish I had documented this whole process better, there have already been so many ups and downs, but I couldn't bring myself to write them, there was no time, I did want to examine my emotions, I didn't know how much I wanted who to know, and now I kind of wish I had written it all down.
Zoom, for all those who say Adoption takes too long, remember our past four months.
Yeah and my nephew who's coming to visit in April? He may already have a new cousin by the time he gets here. My summer might require navigating day camp options. I'm going to have to find a good pediatrician. Whoa.
Did other parents do this? Did you project into the year to come and think "next year will be my first birthday as a mom" or "I can't book falconridge (http://www.falconridgefolk.com/) tickets until we have a good idea of kid status." oofta! Or is it just me, sitting in this chair thinking that mamahood is about to happen, these morning moments about to disappear, and so looking forward to it?
From what I can tell, these moments are going to become even more rare.
We're at the point where adoption is imminent. You know how pregnant women get about 6 weeks to baby day and start saying "I am so ready to have this baby?" They are crazy. They may want to have the little tenant out of their tummy, but being "ready" is not a thing. Nope, I've decided no one is every ready to have another person pop into their family all "Hey! I'm yours!"
But that's the cool part right? You can't be ready because you never know what's going to happen and what and who your are going to end up with.
Reality struck our house this week, when a very dear dear friend came to visit. The realization that she would be the last person to crash in our guest room before it transforms into the kids room, the trip she made with us to Ikea to buy stuff "for the kids," and knowing that next time she comes to town, she'll be "auntie."
Len says we're pregnant. I've read a few articles about hormonal shifts and crazy physical stuff that happens to adoptive parents. But the thing is- our trip to Ikea felt incognito, no one knew that we were just like all those expectant big bellied Betties wandering around picking out nursery colors, at the grocery store no one asks us when we're bringing home our kiddo, and at work when I go chill to stress ball in a minute, no one thinks about the whole getting ready to have a child thing. It hasn't really bothered me so much, but it's hard for Len, at some point in her life, she had an image of herself as an expectant bio mama. This "pregnancy" is so quick, feels so covert, and is so unknown. I worry that she's missed out on something she expected. I also wish I had documented this whole process better, there have already been so many ups and downs, but I couldn't bring myself to write them, there was no time, I did want to examine my emotions, I didn't know how much I wanted who to know, and now I kind of wish I had written it all down.
Zoom, for all those who say Adoption takes too long, remember our past four months.
Yeah and my nephew who's coming to visit in April? He may already have a new cousin by the time he gets here. My summer might require navigating day camp options. I'm going to have to find a good pediatrician. Whoa.
Did other parents do this? Did you project into the year to come and think "next year will be my first birthday as a mom" or "I can't book falconridge (http://www.falconridgefolk.com/) tickets until we have a good idea of kid status." oofta! Or is it just me, sitting in this chair thinking that mamahood is about to happen, these morning moments about to disappear, and so looking forward to it?
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Pick for Your Friends
OK, so two points to start with-
#1- we are more than able to afford the adoption/foster process in our state, its cheap and we intentionally waited to begin until our finances were stable and plentiful.
#2- We have lots of friends and family who are far away and want to help. I can't seem to figure out how to have them "help" us prep our house for inspection, etc.
So, Len and I have been discussing the material aspects of the early stages of parenthood. There are lots of things to buy in preparation for kidlettes and our friends keep asking and offering . . .
So what do we do?
Option #1
Have a baby shower for an undetermined child? I don't like showers so much and I think it would be really weird to have a party for an unspecified child, also i think our friends would just use it as an excuse to party . . . wait, maybe this isn't such a bad idea.
Option #2
Thank people for their offer and that's that. Yeah, but when I sent my new nephew a onsie I embroidered for him, I felt really special and honored when his mama and papa posted a picture of him wearing it on FB (thanks L and N!). AAAAnnd some of the adults I was closest too as a kid, were folks who I could associate with something they had sent me. Materialistic? Yes. My mom and I lived far away from our family and that black cat doll my auntie sent me- meant the world to me and I cuddled her whenever aunt barb and I talked on the phone. In fact, now when I think about how I know my aunty loves me that stuffed animal is the first thing that comes to mind. I want all of my friends to have to opportunity to celebrate and show there love to our kiddo(s) and yes, I'm ok if that means my child might one day see Jen and think "This is Tia Jenny Rush- she bought me my sleeping bag"
Option #3
Start a "baby" registry when Layna had her BeastieBoy, CCM and I helped put together the baby registry. It was kind of fun. It was also SUPER FUN to check and see what people had bought (I like presents, what can I say) However, if any of you saw Len and I's wedding registry you know that we are not so talented and have a hard time taking such things seriously (we put things like toilet paper and 53 dvds on our registry)
Option #4
Kickstarter/fundraising- I am not holding an adoption fundraiser like the goddlies do. Nope, nope, nope. I am, however, considering Len's idea to start a page that lets people know what we need and how much those things cost, I like that it also allows them to give us handmedowns of items and lets us name the wierd things that foster parents need that are different from what birth parents may need ex. we don't need a breast pump, we do need to remove our shower doors.
SO those are my thoughts right now. Maybe i'll let you know where things land.
Meanwhile-
we're three classes in
PSMAPP stands for "Partnering for Safety and Permanence Model Approach for Partnerships in Parenting"
we are awaiting our CPR and first aid cards
we meet with our new family specialist in 6 days
#1- we are more than able to afford the adoption/foster process in our state, its cheap and we intentionally waited to begin until our finances were stable and plentiful.
#2- We have lots of friends and family who are far away and want to help. I can't seem to figure out how to have them "help" us prep our house for inspection, etc.
So, Len and I have been discussing the material aspects of the early stages of parenthood. There are lots of things to buy in preparation for kidlettes and our friends keep asking and offering . . .
So what do we do?
Option #1
Have a baby shower for an undetermined child? I don't like showers so much and I think it would be really weird to have a party for an unspecified child, also i think our friends would just use it as an excuse to party . . . wait, maybe this isn't such a bad idea.
Option #2
Thank people for their offer and that's that. Yeah, but when I sent my new nephew a onsie I embroidered for him, I felt really special and honored when his mama and papa posted a picture of him wearing it on FB (thanks L and N!). AAAAnnd some of the adults I was closest too as a kid, were folks who I could associate with something they had sent me. Materialistic? Yes. My mom and I lived far away from our family and that black cat doll my auntie sent me- meant the world to me and I cuddled her whenever aunt barb and I talked on the phone. In fact, now when I think about how I know my aunty loves me that stuffed animal is the first thing that comes to mind. I want all of my friends to have to opportunity to celebrate and show there love to our kiddo(s) and yes, I'm ok if that means my child might one day see Jen and think "This is Tia Jenny Rush- she bought me my sleeping bag"
Option #3
Start a "baby" registry when Layna had her BeastieBoy, CCM and I helped put together the baby registry. It was kind of fun. It was also SUPER FUN to check and see what people had bought (I like presents, what can I say) However, if any of you saw Len and I's wedding registry you know that we are not so talented and have a hard time taking such things seriously (we put things like toilet paper and 53 dvds on our registry)
Option #4
Kickstarter/fundraising- I am not holding an adoption fundraiser like the goddlies do. Nope, nope, nope. I am, however, considering Len's idea to start a page that lets people know what we need and how much those things cost, I like that it also allows them to give us handmedowns of items and lets us name the wierd things that foster parents need that are different from what birth parents may need ex. we don't need a breast pump, we do need to remove our shower doors.
SO those are my thoughts right now. Maybe i'll let you know where things land.
Meanwhile-
we're three classes in
PSMAPP stands for "Partnering for Safety and Permanence Model Approach for Partnerships in Parenting"
we are awaiting our CPR and first aid cards
we meet with our new family specialist in 6 days
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
The Excitement
Glitter, sparkles, hot-cha-cha (not that kind, the innocent kind! geesh, you people!)!!!!!
That's how I feel right now. We've been stressing about wether or not we are worthy, if our family will pass the muster, if our sketches of the house are pretty enough, so much stressing- when today I got a phone call that said "don't worry, be happy, be excited- this is a fun thing."
Our classes start tomorrow. At some point, I'll remember the name and acronym for the classes, but not today. Today I will tell you how awesome it feels to have someone call me and say "Hey! You start classes tomorrow! Are you excited? Do you have any questions?" The caller (from the agency, not just a random motivator, but that would have been awesome too, in it's own creepy way) offered huge releif and made me feel . . .
Supported.
And that's a pretty big deal.
That's how I feel right now. We've been stressing about wether or not we are worthy, if our family will pass the muster, if our sketches of the house are pretty enough, so much stressing- when today I got a phone call that said "don't worry, be happy, be excited- this is a fun thing."
Our classes start tomorrow. At some point, I'll remember the name and acronym for the classes, but not today. Today I will tell you how awesome it feels to have someone call me and say "Hey! You start classes tomorrow! Are you excited? Do you have any questions?" The caller (from the agency, not just a random motivator, but that would have been awesome too, in it's own creepy way) offered huge releif and made me feel . . .
Supported.
And that's a pretty big deal.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Only a touch of frustration
So, you know that thing when you write a long reflective piece, give it a few edits, start to really like it, and then your computer decides the battery is dead? Yeah, that happened with the first version of this post. But I'm not that annoyed. My front yard smells like a campfire, my kitchen is full of leftovers, and nobody lit themselves on fire last night (at least not at my house). All of this speaks of a very successful solstice and puts me in quite a holiday spirit.
Our first home visit was kind of funny. Both our family specialist and E. were very nervous. I can understand Len's nervousness- I was there all talkie-McTalking and she was probably terrified I'd say the very wrong thing and our house was in a bit of disrepair. But why was the caseworker so nervous? She always seems a little anxious around us. No, I don't think it has anything to do with our "family structure" or any prejudice on her part. I think that most of her caseload is families that only speak spanish. During this visit, she kept saying "I've been speaking Spanish all day." Switching languages can be unsettling. I have wondered if she was given our case because of our last names, just like why I never get credit card offers is English and why telemarketers are so confused when Len tells them she doesn't speak spanish. The family specialist is perfectly competent in English so may that's not why she's antsy around us . . . I will continue to observe and let you know when I reach a more final conclusion.
Anyway, the poor thing had been meeting with families all day and we were scheduled for the afternoon. Unfortunately, her arrival coincided with the ruckus that is school dismissal. One of my favorite things about our house is that we live right across from a big highschool. Twice a day the whole world of hoodies, hairdos, and pumped up stereos descends onto our street. I love the laughter, yelling, honking, and music. I really love getting to see the "fashions." But, for someone trying to physically get to our house via car- that is the worst time of day. And of course we had all the windows and doors open and the sound leaked into the house. She kept looking around her, a little like a kitten experiencing simultaneous fear and curiousness.
She walked us through tons of paperwork and then walked through our house.
The house walk through was a little embarrassing, but motivated me toward my "January= conquer the house" goal. So really, not a big deal.
The paperwork however, is the same obbs and gobbs of paperwork we filled out before, but this time with some new and frustrating gramatical ambiguities. Overall filling out the whole packet is quite a production in our house. I'm not so good with writing things in little boxes, I get numbers confused, I write the wrong letters in the wrong places, I have a very hard time reading and understanding the directions- Len has to reread and double check every paper I do. Its a bunch of blah.
But not so bad. What's really bad is the questions.
Here, you give it a try.
FUN BLOG QUIZ FOR YOU!
"As a child, did you get along well with them?"
(nope, you don't get to know who "them" is?)
"What rules cannot be broken in your house?"
(ummm . . . yeah think about it for a moment. Len said "gravity?")
"How are foster care and adoption different?"
(this one appeared to be a pop quiz thrown in the middle of listing who you lived with from age 2 and 8 months until 4 and 7 months)
"What are your concerns?"
(ok, if you're an anxious type like me, this is a very broad question and the answer involves koala bears crossing the highway and how long walnut mushroom bisque lasts in the fridge. There is no way my answer fits on the two lines provided.)
Our first home visit was kind of funny. Both our family specialist and E. were very nervous. I can understand Len's nervousness- I was there all talkie-McTalking and she was probably terrified I'd say the very wrong thing and our house was in a bit of disrepair. But why was the caseworker so nervous? She always seems a little anxious around us. No, I don't think it has anything to do with our "family structure" or any prejudice on her part. I think that most of her caseload is families that only speak spanish. During this visit, she kept saying "I've been speaking Spanish all day." Switching languages can be unsettling. I have wondered if she was given our case because of our last names, just like why I never get credit card offers is English and why telemarketers are so confused when Len tells them she doesn't speak spanish. The family specialist is perfectly competent in English so may that's not why she's antsy around us . . . I will continue to observe and let you know when I reach a more final conclusion.
Anyway, the poor thing had been meeting with families all day and we were scheduled for the afternoon. Unfortunately, her arrival coincided with the ruckus that is school dismissal. One of my favorite things about our house is that we live right across from a big highschool. Twice a day the whole world of hoodies, hairdos, and pumped up stereos descends onto our street. I love the laughter, yelling, honking, and music. I really love getting to see the "fashions." But, for someone trying to physically get to our house via car- that is the worst time of day. And of course we had all the windows and doors open and the sound leaked into the house. She kept looking around her, a little like a kitten experiencing simultaneous fear and curiousness.
She walked us through tons of paperwork and then walked through our house.
The house walk through was a little embarrassing, but motivated me toward my "January= conquer the house" goal. So really, not a big deal.
The paperwork however, is the same obbs and gobbs of paperwork we filled out before, but this time with some new and frustrating gramatical ambiguities. Overall filling out the whole packet is quite a production in our house. I'm not so good with writing things in little boxes, I get numbers confused, I write the wrong letters in the wrong places, I have a very hard time reading and understanding the directions- Len has to reread and double check every paper I do. Its a bunch of blah.
But not so bad. What's really bad is the questions.
Here, you give it a try.
FUN BLOG QUIZ FOR YOU!
"As a child, did you get along well with them?"
(nope, you don't get to know who "them" is?)
"What rules cannot be broken in your house?"
(ummm . . . yeah think about it for a moment. Len said "gravity?")
"How are foster care and adoption different?"
(this one appeared to be a pop quiz thrown in the middle of listing who you lived with from age 2 and 8 months until 4 and 7 months)
"What are your concerns?"
(ok, if you're an anxious type like me, this is a very broad question and the answer involves koala bears crossing the highway and how long walnut mushroom bisque lasts in the fridge. There is no way my answer fits on the two lines provided.)
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