Closure

Today we signed the adoption placement agreement for RB, officially taking us from “foster family” to “pre adoptive family”. It felt strange, because I thought I would be more excited. I don’t know that it’s sunk in yet. With A, it was the same way. I kept expecting to feel over the moon, but in reality it was more of a quiet sense of satisfaction. Really, A had been with us almost 2 years when we finalized her adoption, and RB has been with us for a year, so it could be that it doesn’t feel like much because they were already mine long before the judge signed a paper.

However, we also signed another document today: the closure of our foster license.

The whole situation with A2 and DCF making her to move out forced our hand, and I am so very angry and sad. A2 is of course worth it, and there was no other course to take, it’s just hard. Fostering has been a HUGE part of our lives for years now. We’ve loved on more than 30 kids. Little S has literally never known anything different. But now that piece of our lives has been taken away, and I feel like a table someone just chopped a leg off of. After I signed the paper I cried.

Honestly, I didn’t expect to feel this level of grief. I suppose it makes sense, because fostering is something that I truly love, and something that I have felt a sense of purpose from…and now it’s gone. Likely not forever, because after we get A2’s felony expunged in a few years we will probably be able to pick it back up again. Nevertheless, for the foreseeable future, I can no longer call myself a foster parent.

I know it’s necessary. I know it’s (probably) temporary. But it hurts. I’ve loved what I do, and I’ve loved my kids. It hurts to let that go.

Distance Learning Sucks

With Coronavirus still running rampant across the country, our local schools have (quite understandably) decided to do purely distance learning for now. They provided all the kids with laptops and set up google classroom.

However. Distance learning is the worst fucking thing. They literally have the kids on zoom calls with teachers 7 hours a day, on top of homework. RB is not a kid that does well sitting in front of a computer on zoom calls for 7 hours a day. ADHD, learning disabilities, and a trauma history do not mesh well with it.

I have done online school with kids before. The difference is that online school was designed to be the way it is, not something thrown haphazardly together in a state of emergency. Google classroom has so many glitches that it would be funny if it weren’t infuriating. On top of that, I had the option before corona of doing online school with RB and I turned it down. I knew he wouldn’t do well with it, and I would be terrible at trying to help him. Judging by our current situation, I was very correct.

He is so overwhelmed. I am so overwhelmed. Little S, who is starting second grade, is so overwhelmed. I don’t know how so am supposed to keep both of them in their classes and on track without all three of us losing our minds. All three of us have already melted down at least once today, and it’s not even 11am.

On top of everything, no one is sleeping because our AC is dead and it is 90+ degrees outside. So we’re all sleep deprived, overwhelmed, frustrated, and overheated.

People sometimes tell me I’m “such a good person” for fostering. At the moment, I feel less like a good person and more like a horrible ogre. I can quite often be a decent trauma parent, but trauma teacher is a whole different ballgame.

Birthdays

I’ve written quite a bit about how my kiddos often struggle with birthdays. Birthdays for my kids were often focal points for trauma, and birthdays bring up thoughts of the families that aren’t there. RB however, has yet to meltdown or express hatred of his upcoming birthday. So my mind has turned to another person that his birthday affects.

His bio mom.

She wasn’t a good mom, she probably didn’t know how to be. Right now she’s in prison for a lot of stuff surrounding her drug addiction, and most of RB’s memories of her aren’t positive ones. But I wonder if she’s thinking of him today. I wonder if she misses him and if she worries for him.

RB is about to be 12, officially a preteen. Next year we’ll launch into the adventure of teenager-ness. I wonder if his bio mom regrets missing out on it.

We’ve got our file read coming up, which means the adoption will almost certainly happen this year. And I know that the file read will probably bring me a fresh wash of anger towards his bio parents, as we read about all the gritty details of how often the failed their/my/our child. Right now however, I have a certain level of compassion for them. I know that they are deeply hurting people who probably gave RB and his sisters what they could, and they had to have their children taken in order for the cycle of pain to be broken.

Hopefully, RB’s mom IS thinking of him today. Hopefully she’ll keep thinking about him, so that at some point when he’s grown they’ll be able to have a positive relationship.

Reporting

Being a foster parent, I am a mandated reporter. That means that I legally have to file a report with DCF if I suspect child abuse or neglect. I totally understand why mandated reporting is a thing, and I’m glad that it is…

But I hate it.

I had to file a report about A2’s younger half siblings, because some things that were said made it glaringly obvious that they are being abused. The problem is that I’ve made four reports about them in the last couple years, and DCF has dropped the ball every time. They’ve done stupid things like interviewing the kids with the alleged abuser in the room. They’ve swept things under the rug. They’ve ignored textbook signs of trouble. And every time they go out to investigate and don’t remove the kids, the kids suffer the abuser’s anger afterwards. That’s a risk every single time.

So I must legally continue to file reports, while knowing that it will likely only make things worse. Which sucks.

I wish there was another option, or another authority I could appeal to, but there isn’t. However, if I don’t report, there could be ramifications beyond legal ones. I could choose not to report something and then a tragedy could happen because no one checked up on it. Kids die when adults close their eyes and ignore what’s happening.

So I report. Again and again and again, and I hope and pray every time that I’m doing the right thing. But it’s one of those inconvenient grey areas that are so common with foster care, so I never really know if it’s right or wrong.

I really hate it.

Why I’m Proud

I came across a truly tragic news story today that came to light after a recent amber alert. Olivia Jansen, age 3, was found dead. She was allegedly murdered by her father and her father’s girlfriend, who the little girl was living with. Both parents were involved in the drug scene. There was a history of DCF reports on the family that came to nothing. And now a little girl is dead.

Sometimes (often), fostering is HARD. It hurts and it’s exhausting and it’s heartbreaking. Even though we have had our share of bright spots, it’s still hard. But there is a reason we foster. That reason is the kids.

I’ve also been hearing a lot of (often justified) criticism of the whole foster system recently. Lots of people see it as an ultimate evil and want to dismantle the whole thing and start over. As I’ve written so often, there are usually no easy answers when you’re dealing with generational poverty, abuse, and addiction. Almost all of our children have come to us with a backstory that is tangled beyond belief. Family tree plotting is practically an exercise in creative writing. Resources are never enough, and DCF fails over and over again.

But even though resources aren’t enough, and the system limps along doing harm as often as it does good, I’m still proud to call myself a foster parent. Because to me, doing that job means that I’m keeping kids safe. I wish someone had stepped in for little Olivia Jansen and kept her safe. Kids fall through the cracks and tragedies happen. But when a kid walks into our messy, imperfect home, they will be safe and seen.

We’re almost done fostering. RB will be either the last or second to last kid that we take. I have deep regrets about all the kids we couldn’t take, or shouldn’t have taken and did poorly with. Even so, I know a little part of me will always be proud of what we HAVE been able to give. Our kids will not have the same ending as little Olivia. So I’m proud of contributing that much to the world.

When the System Doesn’t Work

I’m not exaggerating when I say the system has completely failed A2, and it breaks my heart. Her brothers were left with an abuser who was then allowed to adopt them, while she was allowed to age out with no actual follow up. And now the latest debacle has her moving out of our home.

When she ran away last year, she made some bad choices. Which should surprise no one, given that she was a hurting 18 year old with a trauma history. Without going to much into it, she came out with a criminal record, which we’ve recently been informed means she can no longer stay in our home if we want to keep our license.

I’m so furious. There’s no appeal process (we tried!), and the director of DCF himself basically said that he understands the situation but that there’s nothing he can do. Which is, excuse my language, complete fucking bullshit. 18 year olds are not known for their good judgment and impulse control, and kids who age out of the system are almost always left with no support. It’s such a glaring hole in the system that they would then not be allowed to stay with their foster parents, who are often the only ones willing to offer any support at all. On top of that, I’ve seen children returned to birth parents who have rap sheets a mile long; abusers who have repeatedly committed violence against others. Yet our 95lb nonviolent teenager is considered more of a threat to children than that.

If it were just a matter of us losing our license we’d close it without a second thought. But we still have RB, and closing our license would mean losing him. Our current plan is to rush the adoption as quickly as possible and then close our license for good. It makes me sad that we won’t be able to foster any more, but if we can’t even help the kids we’re already committed to them there isn’t much point to fostering.

I’m so angry and sad. Everyone is “sympathetic” and “understands where we’re coming from”, but no one has offered any alternatives or help. We campaigned DCF for the past month to try and find away around this, but no luck. I’ve always known the system is broken. R and I have always just done our best to work with what we have within the confines we’re given. But I cannot and will not throw away our daughter to appease that same broken system.

Brazil Ice Cream

We took the younger kids out for *fancy* ice cream with aRtIsAn flavors today, which turned out to be hilarious. Because RB, bless his heart, cannot read well.

RB: Yeah I want this one. The Lemon Bra-zil.

Me: Buddy, that says basil. Lemon basil.

RB: Right, lemon brasil.

-20 minutes later-

RB: I like this ice cream, but it’s weird.

Me and R: Why?

RB: They put LEAVES into it! I got ice cream with leafs.

Me: *giggling* Well it’s got basil, sweetheart. Basil is a spice. It IS leaves.

RB: I didn’t know that….Leafs in my ice cream.

I died laughing.

TraumaVersary Fun

We’ve stumbled upon quite a traumaversary of RB’s. He was so accommodating with letting us know… by throwing three tantrums, stealing/hoarding food, and wrestling too roughly with S. All before noon.

When we sat him down to hand out consequences for those behaviors, we asked him what was going through his mind and where his head was at. We asked if maybe something happened around this time of year. OH BOY did he give us an answer.

RB: I don’t know… my dad left and we had to move right before summer. And then HorriblePersonName moved in, and then we got taken away.

Me: That was when HorriblePerson moved in, huh? Your mom’s boyfriend? I know you’ve told me before that he did some pretty scary things.

RB: Yeah. He had lots of guns and the police were always looking for him, but he held a gun to my head and said he’d shoot me if I told. He did shoot our puppy.

So there you have it. Mom’s boyfriend moves in, commits horrible acts of violence and causes untold trauma, and then RB gets put into foster care. According to him, all in roughly the span of a month or two.

No prizes for guessing why this time of year might cause a bit of regression and acting out. Yikes.

RB’s thoughts on hygiene

I’ve had many kiddos that have less-than-optimal views on hygiene. ML in particular was constantly a fight to get her to take a shower; she once rubbed hand lotion into her hair in an attempt to trick me into thinking she was clean. It makes sense of course. In the kinds of families my kids come from, hygiene often isn’t taught, much less enforced.

With RB, we’ve found the best way to enforce cleanliness is with a weekly shower schedule. Sundays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are non-negotiable shower nights. Sometimes though, we forget a night, in which case he takes a shower the following day. This happened yesterday after he had missed Wednesday’s shower, which leads to two (2!) shower nights in a row. The horror!

Me: Okay bud, five minutes until shower time.

RB: WHAT?!? But I just had one last night!

Me: Yup, we’re getting back on schedule.

RB: Two in a row?! What’s the point of getting clean twice?!?

Me, deadpan: Hygiene.

RB: But….getting clean twice! It’s like jail!

I about died laughing.

How much is too much?

I always try really hard to stay very neutral whenever the subject of my kids’ bio parents comes up. I validate whatever the kid is feeling at the moment, and I let them talk as much as they need to, but I don’t make any judgements on their parents.

At least, not out loud.

Internally, I’m often very angry with the people that hurt my beautiful kids so deeply. Maybe some of that anger comes through, but I try not to let it.

A bigger problem though, is when one of my kiddos tells me about some of their parents’ specific actions that are illegal or harmful or just plain wrong.

Case in point: RB was telling me today about the cute puppies they used to have. Puppies that they would have for a while, crop the ears and tails of, and then sell to “Dad’s friends with guns”. What is the correct response to that? I don’t want to disparage RB’s dad, but how do I neutrally explain that his dad was probably involved in dog fighting? Or when he tells me that they “got a loan from Walmart one time” of a whole lot of cash in an envelope?

Do I tell him what was likely happening? Do I ignore it completely? I tried to focus in on what his feelings about those things were and help him process, but I never know how much information is the right amount. I feel like my mouth is just really familiar with my foot at this point.