We like to look through AdoptUSKids.org at different sibling group profiles to see who draws our interest. There are some that we get a little attached to (the idea of), but then disappear. We know that the process will take several more months, and who knows who will be available at that time, but I think it's important to look and practice a sort of "empathy for strangers"... I need to know that I can feel attachment for kids that originated in another family, mostly because I'm usually not very good at the whole empathy thing. My brother once told me he thought I had borderline Asperger's because I'm so inwardly focused most of the time.
Anyway, there's a new crop of kids up, and we're flipping through them. Some are interesting for various reasons:
Nicholas, Jacob, and Kayla would be kind of funny because my cousin's kids are Kayla, Dustin, and Nicholas.
Ashley, Billy, and Aaron all state a preference for a family in the country, as well as horses. We live next to a horse farm.
Ethan and Athena have interesting variations of one another's names. I've always been interested in unusual names, and Athena certainly fits that description. Athena is also strikingly beautiful, even at 11, which already gives me nightmares about when she reaches dating age.
("Come with me, son... let me show you my gun collection. Have I mentioned how precious my daughter is to me?")
I'm also interested because for some reason I find boys who want to be Marines or other soldiers intriguing. I'm not really excited about the prospect of sending a kid off to the military, but if that's what they really want to do I certainly would support them. And my dad and uncle were both servicemen (Marines and Air Force, respectively), so it feels like there's some synergy there.
Brittany and Mark are intriguing because, well, just look at them. These two know how to have fun.
Harley, Sierra, and Phillip are apparently being placed seperately for some reason. My first instinct is to want to ask if there's some problem with taking all three. Also, a girl named Harley and another named Sierra? That just tickles my brain in the place that likes unusual names.
Argh... now I need to go do something else for awhile. Getting all misty-eyed over kids is never good for my state of mind in front of the compiler.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Lion King - Circle of Life
It's amazing to me how much more moving this scene is in my present circumstances than it was when I first saw it in the theater.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The standard questions
As soon as we determined we were actually going through with this, we started discussing it with our accomplices, co-conspirators, and known associates. Inevitably upon hearing the news, folks ask variations of one of two questions:
1: "Oh, are you adopting a boy or a girl?"
At this point we have to explain that we're wanting to adopt a sibling group, which usually results in travels down the various rabbit holes of infants vs older kids, teenagers, holy cow you want a houseful? and so forth.
One friend was told from the outset that we were planning to adopt a sibling group. I recently started showing him profiles we'd found on AdoptUsKids.org, and he responded with "wow, that's a lot of kids. Aren't going to start with one?"
Apparently he didn't know what was meant by "sibling group".
I suppose this only serves to underscore how much more "real" this whole thing is to us than to others. A lot of my friends respond as though I'm talking about a video game or the latest episode of Castle. It's just not something they can wrap their minds around yet.
2: "What country are you adopting from? China? Guatemala? Haiti?"
This one is both bizarre and painful for me to hear. It's bizarre because I seem to know a whole bunch of people who carry around the assumption that adoptable kids only exist in other countries. I've never understood that, just like I've never understood the idea that the only mission fields are in other countries.
A friend of mine who is a pastor once expressed bewilderment at a parishioner who came to him wanting to be sent to work tsunami relief back in 2004. He asked her what she knew about disaster relief, and she said nothing. He asked her if she knew any of the languages of the affected areas, and she said no. He pointed out to her that she could walk outside and within one mile of the church's door she could find enough people who needed help and who spoke a language she understood that she would never be without work to do. As far as he knew, that was the end of the subject for her -- if she wasn't going to Malaysia or wherever, there just wasn't any service she could perform.
We've got hurting people and parentless kids right here in the USA. I don't begrudge anyone with a calling to go to other places, perform missionary work, or adopt children. In all honesty I used to have an attitude about it, but I've grown up since then. I see this country as my mission field, and its children as my pool of possible adoptees. I just don't understand why the overwhelming majority of folks that I know in churches and other circles seem to assume that America has no need for this kind of service.
One of the moms in my blog list is currently working on adopting a kid from China. That's great! It's awesome, in fact, and I applaud her for it. I think folks should go where they're called, and there certainly is enough work (and children) to go around. I just don't think it should be novel or weird or that I should even have to explain that I'm planning to adopt right here in America. I think it's weird that folks don't seem to know we have kids in need here.
I've heard that some other countries are already sending missionaries to America, and it makes me wonder if we'll ever reach a point when foreign parents are regularly adopting American children.
1: "Oh, are you adopting a boy or a girl?"
At this point we have to explain that we're wanting to adopt a sibling group, which usually results in travels down the various rabbit holes of infants vs older kids, teenagers, holy cow you want a houseful? and so forth.
One friend was told from the outset that we were planning to adopt a sibling group. I recently started showing him profiles we'd found on AdoptUsKids.org, and he responded with "wow, that's a lot of kids. Aren't going to start with one?"
Apparently he didn't know what was meant by "sibling group".
I suppose this only serves to underscore how much more "real" this whole thing is to us than to others. A lot of my friends respond as though I'm talking about a video game or the latest episode of Castle. It's just not something they can wrap their minds around yet.
2: "What country are you adopting from? China? Guatemala? Haiti?"
This one is both bizarre and painful for me to hear. It's bizarre because I seem to know a whole bunch of people who carry around the assumption that adoptable kids only exist in other countries. I've never understood that, just like I've never understood the idea that the only mission fields are in other countries.
A friend of mine who is a pastor once expressed bewilderment at a parishioner who came to him wanting to be sent to work tsunami relief back in 2004. He asked her what she knew about disaster relief, and she said nothing. He asked her if she knew any of the languages of the affected areas, and she said no. He pointed out to her that she could walk outside and within one mile of the church's door she could find enough people who needed help and who spoke a language she understood that she would never be without work to do. As far as he knew, that was the end of the subject for her -- if she wasn't going to Malaysia or wherever, there just wasn't any service she could perform.
We've got hurting people and parentless kids right here in the USA. I don't begrudge anyone with a calling to go to other places, perform missionary work, or adopt children. In all honesty I used to have an attitude about it, but I've grown up since then. I see this country as my mission field, and its children as my pool of possible adoptees. I just don't understand why the overwhelming majority of folks that I know in churches and other circles seem to assume that America has no need for this kind of service.
One of the moms in my blog list is currently working on adopting a kid from China. That's great! It's awesome, in fact, and I applaud her for it. I think folks should go where they're called, and there certainly is enough work (and children) to go around. I just don't think it should be novel or weird or that I should even have to explain that I'm planning to adopt right here in America. I think it's weird that folks don't seem to know we have kids in need here.
I've heard that some other countries are already sending missionaries to America, and it makes me wonder if we'll ever reach a point when foreign parents are regularly adopting American children.
Differently gruntled
Is that how you say it nowadays? I can't keep up.
Going on two weeks now, no word from Tonya. I can only assume they've received the application and are merrily shepherding it through the bureaucracy.
Or it's lining the bottom of someone's bird cage.
Those are the choices. Nothing in between.
Going on two weeks now, no word from Tonya. I can only assume they've received the application and are merrily shepherding it through the bureaucracy.
Or it's lining the bottom of someone's bird cage.
Those are the choices. Nothing in between.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
November 23, 2004
I was up late, reading a random mom blog (see list, bottom right), when it struck me: My World of WarCraft account is older than your kids. For some reason that amuses me.
I took the day off work when it launched (see date above) to buy it and start playing. I got in about an hour or so of play time before the servers crashed and stayed down for pretty much the rest of the day. It was worth every glorious minute.
Yes, I am a huge nerd (see photo). I am already torturing my wife with talk of getting the kids to play Dungeons & Dragons with me. I think she's planning to soundproof the living room so she doesn't have to listen to it.
I realize that there's a pretty solid probability that the kids won't dig D&D. To my horror, they might actually be one of those other types... the kind of folks that I try to avoid.
You know...
Sports fans.
I'll hang myself from that bridge when I come to it. But in the meantime, I'll sit and daydream about little Steve or John or Billy or Katie or Jen or Alicia or whatever their names are...
...sitting around a table laden with miniatures and maps and polyhedral dice...
("Dad! Tell him to leave my dice alone! He's gonna suck the luck right out of them.")
("Stop touching your sister's dice. And would it kill you to print out a new character sheet from time to time?")
...being huge nerds with their dad. Co-nerds. Slaying dragons and fighting wizards and torturing mom with talk of experience points and trips to the game store.
Or if they're not into role-playing games, maybe I'll be able to build a rapport over comic books. As long as they follow the house rules and only read Marvel, of course. DC Comics will be cause for time-out.
("What is this? Green Lantern? Go to your room!")
("Aw, man! Tired of reading about mutants...")
At the very least I should be able to rope them into Words with Friends.
I took the day off work when it launched (see date above) to buy it and start playing. I got in about an hour or so of play time before the servers crashed and stayed down for pretty much the rest of the day. It was worth every glorious minute.
Yes, I am a huge nerd (see photo). I am already torturing my wife with talk of getting the kids to play Dungeons & Dragons with me. I think she's planning to soundproof the living room so she doesn't have to listen to it.
I realize that there's a pretty solid probability that the kids won't dig D&D. To my horror, they might actually be one of those other types... the kind of folks that I try to avoid.
You know...
Sports fans.
I'll hang myself from that bridge when I come to it. But in the meantime, I'll sit and daydream about little Steve or John or Billy or Katie or Jen or Alicia or whatever their names are...
...sitting around a table laden with miniatures and maps and polyhedral dice...
("Dad! Tell him to leave my dice alone! He's gonna suck the luck right out of them.")
("Stop touching your sister's dice. And would it kill you to print out a new character sheet from time to time?")
...being huge nerds with their dad. Co-nerds. Slaying dragons and fighting wizards and torturing mom with talk of experience points and trips to the game store.
Or if they're not into role-playing games, maybe I'll be able to build a rapport over comic books. As long as they follow the house rules and only read Marvel, of course. DC Comics will be cause for time-out.
("What is this? Green Lantern? Go to your room!")
("Aw, man! Tired of reading about mutants...")
At the very least I should be able to rope them into Words with Friends.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Bibliophile
Almost everything I know how to do, which is worth knowing how to do, started with or involved a book at some point. I dropped out of the computer science program at Bowling Green State University in part because I concluded they were in no hurry to teach me anything, and instead learned to be a programmer courtesy of Waldenbooks, the now-largely defunct chain of shopping mall book stores. I have read, processed, and even thrown away more books on computer programming than many of my friends have read on any subject.
When I became a homeowner, I turned to books. I read about shopping for houses, inspecting houses, and (ultimately) maintaining and repairing houses. I have books on automobile repair, relationships, God and religion, political philosophy, and my not-so-secret hobby, economics. At the end of the day, when all I want is to relax and enjoy something that's not too strenuous on the ol' noggin, I turn to an equally extensive collection of fictional work.
So it is that as I prepare to become a father, I naturally turn to books on parenting and fatherhood. At first glance, the field of offerings is so vast as to be thoroughly bewildering. There are countless highly-regarded works available, and I'm sure some of them contain conflicting advice on child-rearing. I momentarily despaired at finding a good one to start with, but then realized I'd probably read several different ones anyway. I picked one that had a title that appealed to me, with reviews generally positive, and dove in for a look around.
My current book is Raising Self-Reliant Children in a Self-Indulgent World, by Jane Nelsen and H. Stephen Glenn. It appeals to my worldview in that its emphasis is on raising kids to be problem solvers and solution finders rather than simply consumers of other peoples' solutions. It doesn't deal directly with issues I see myself having as a parent due to past experience, but the ideas it offers are already incompatible with yelling and losing my temper, so it certainly can't hurt. I am particularly interested in the idea of creating an environment for learning with just enough "danger" in it to provide naturally-occurring negative consequences rather than the sort that come from angry or disappointed parents.
Anyway, I'm about halfway through the book, and after I absorb it (and probably read it a second time), I'll be casting about for the next one. My usual pattern is 2 - 3 books before I reach a saturation point on theory and have to take some time to either practice what I've learned or just let it settle. So if you're a parent and have some recommendations for my reading list, feel free to leave them in the comments. I'm particularly interested in self-reliance and independence for kids, and self-control and patience for parents. All suggestions are welcome, even if they're as self-deprecating as Parenting for Dummies.
When I became a homeowner, I turned to books. I read about shopping for houses, inspecting houses, and (ultimately) maintaining and repairing houses. I have books on automobile repair, relationships, God and religion, political philosophy, and my not-so-secret hobby, economics. At the end of the day, when all I want is to relax and enjoy something that's not too strenuous on the ol' noggin, I turn to an equally extensive collection of fictional work.
So it is that as I prepare to become a father, I naturally turn to books on parenting and fatherhood. At first glance, the field of offerings is so vast as to be thoroughly bewildering. There are countless highly-regarded works available, and I'm sure some of them contain conflicting advice on child-rearing. I momentarily despaired at finding a good one to start with, but then realized I'd probably read several different ones anyway. I picked one that had a title that appealed to me, with reviews generally positive, and dove in for a look around.
My current book is Raising Self-Reliant Children in a Self-Indulgent World, by Jane Nelsen and H. Stephen Glenn. It appeals to my worldview in that its emphasis is on raising kids to be problem solvers and solution finders rather than simply consumers of other peoples' solutions. It doesn't deal directly with issues I see myself having as a parent due to past experience, but the ideas it offers are already incompatible with yelling and losing my temper, so it certainly can't hurt. I am particularly interested in the idea of creating an environment for learning with just enough "danger" in it to provide naturally-occurring negative consequences rather than the sort that come from angry or disappointed parents.
Anyway, I'm about halfway through the book, and after I absorb it (and probably read it a second time), I'll be casting about for the next one. My usual pattern is 2 - 3 books before I reach a saturation point on theory and have to take some time to either practice what I've learned or just let it settle. So if you're a parent and have some recommendations for my reading list, feel free to leave them in the comments. I'm particularly interested in self-reliance and independence for kids, and self-control and patience for parents. All suggestions are welcome, even if they're as self-deprecating as Parenting for Dummies.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Buddywuggus
This is my oldest dog, Zeus, doing what he does best: snoozing in uncomfortable-looking positions.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Changes Afoot
The Oklahoma legislature is doing some things to unsnarl the mess regarding the adoption process and adoptees' rights. One item they've been working on regards the grey market in adoptive children, which scared my wife and I off of the adoption trail 6 or 7 years ago:
I never wanted to deal with the State itself, and we were interested in infants at the time, so this was a big issue for us. If it's illegal to sell children, then why does it cost $20,000 to adopt?
Well, it turns out that it doesn't cost that much to go through OK DHS, but DHS, as I've seen so far, is a bit on the slow side when it comes to things like returning phone calls or emails. The State's slow response times and snail-like pace has created a massive opportunity for less-than-savory characters (read: lawyers) to cash in on navigating the process for people desperate to adopt (infants).
While the process is pretty adversarial no matter your stated goals, it appears as though adopting older sibling groups is probably one of the "easiest" ways to go. I just wish the legislators were also looking at the day-to-day operations of DHS and searching for ways to improve their customer service.
The measure was the result of a state grand jury five years ago that found some adoptive parents had been forced to pay for vehicles, car parts, traffic tickets, television sets and other items that were masked as adoption costs.
The haphazard regulation of adoption expenses created an atmosphere in which some women and their attorneys effectively sold children, the report states.
I never wanted to deal with the State itself, and we were interested in infants at the time, so this was a big issue for us. If it's illegal to sell children, then why does it cost $20,000 to adopt?
Well, it turns out that it doesn't cost that much to go through OK DHS, but DHS, as I've seen so far, is a bit on the slow side when it comes to things like returning phone calls or emails. The State's slow response times and snail-like pace has created a massive opportunity for less-than-savory characters (read: lawyers) to cash in on navigating the process for people desperate to adopt (infants).
While the process is pretty adversarial no matter your stated goals, it appears as though adopting older sibling groups is probably one of the "easiest" ways to go. I just wish the legislators were also looking at the day-to-day operations of DHS and searching for ways to improve their customer service.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Off to the Races
We finally got the application packet finished and dropped in the mail. I've been trying to get Tonya on the phone... again... for something close to a week now. That woman is going to be the death of me. I desperately want to know what the next step is.
I feel like I'm standing at the counter in McDonald's, waiting for someone to take my order, while the only employees in sight engage in a long-winded personal conversation over by the deep fryers.
I feel like I'm standing at the counter in McDonald's, waiting for someone to take my order, while the only employees in sight engage in a long-winded personal conversation over by the deep fryers.
Conversation in the Office
Me: "OK, maybe six is a tad excessive. But four... four is the sweet spot."
Boss, walking in: "Four? Kids? Are you nuts?"
Me: "No, I'm talking about how many monitors one needs on their computer. For kids, the sweet spot is three."
Boss: "WRONG. Never have more kids than adults. You're outnumbered, like General Custer. The only way that changes is if one of the kids is an adult."
Me: "So what's an adult, for these purposes?"
Boss: "Eighteen years old."
Me: "Oh, so since your son just started college, you're getting ready to start on another one."
Boss: "No way in hell. My daughter starts driving next week, and after that, I don't have to be responsible for taking anybody anywhere. You think I'm going to screw that up?"
Me: *laughing*
Boss, to coworker I was originally talking to: "Tell him. Most of our lives as Dads is spent driving someone somewhere to do something. Nothing but driving kids here and there and everywhere."
Me: "Sounds awesome."
Boss, drily: "Yeah. Awesome."
Boss, walking in: "Four? Kids? Are you nuts?"
Me: "No, I'm talking about how many monitors one needs on their computer. For kids, the sweet spot is three."
Boss: "WRONG. Never have more kids than adults. You're outnumbered, like General Custer. The only way that changes is if one of the kids is an adult."
Me: "So what's an adult, for these purposes?"
Boss: "Eighteen years old."
Me: "Oh, so since your son just started college, you're getting ready to start on another one."
Boss: "No way in hell. My daughter starts driving next week, and after that, I don't have to be responsible for taking anybody anywhere. You think I'm going to screw that up?"
Me: *laughing*
Boss, to coworker I was originally talking to: "Tell him. Most of our lives as Dads is spent driving someone somewhere to do something. Nothing but driving kids here and there and everywhere."
Me: "Sounds awesome."
Boss, drily: "Yeah. Awesome."
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Epic Fail
One thing continues to weigh heavily on our minds as we move forward with the process. It concerns our one previous attempt at parenting, which ended in disaster.
We had been married about 3 years, and were about 25 or 26 years old at the time. A younger relative was having problems with her single father, and we decided to try to intervene. We offered to take her in and see if we could better handle things, but in our hubris we made some critical errors in judgment.
The first was that we were 25 or 26 years old and jumping into a parenting relationship with a 13 year old girl. The second was that we were naively unaware of all the ways in which a 13 year old girl from the backwaters of Ohio could get herself into trouble in a suburb of Detroit. More experienced parents might have noticed that she was essentially starved for affection/attention, and known that she would immediately seek such things from friends and boys, or at least known that it was a really good possibility.
What followed was an 8-month stretch of virtually continuous contact with school authorities, police officers, random property owners, and other parents. Perhaps most disconcerting of all was the indifference displayed by that last group. We'd try to engage her friends' parents on what they were doing, and those parents would just give us a "kids will be kids" answer and laugh it off.
At the end of the period, we'd made arrangements to move to another suburb where we could get into a house instead of an apartment. We figured it would be good for her to have a change of scenery, but we were rapidly approaching our wits' end. We took a load of stuff to the new house, about 45 minutes away, and when we returned we found that she and her friends had kicked in the door to the apartment ("I forgot my key") and proceeded to put all sorts of holes in the drywall. My $1000 security deposit was as good as gone, and I realized that if 8 months with us hadn't taught her even the minimum amount of respect for the property of others, nothing we could do was likely to communicate that lesson.
It was a rough decision, and a rough trip back to Ohio, but we wound up handing her off to another relative who thought (also wrongly) that she could do better. Eventually the girl wound up in foster care with a family who apparently specialized in taming wild animals. For the time that she spent there, we mostly heard good reports of how well she was doing, with only the occasional report of more craziness (like jumping out of a 2nd-story window in an attempt to run away). But it seemed like every time she got out among "normal" folks like family members, she immediately felt a need to dial it up to Eleven.
I became convinced for some time after that there was no creature on earth quite as evil and malicious as a 13 year old girl. I still have moments of panic when I consider that we might have the same situation all over again, because there are no guarantees. I get a little impatient when folks give me the "you never know what you're getting when you adopt" speech, as though I'm all starry-eyed about the prospects. Believe me, I know how badly it can go. I desperately hope that it doesn't (again). But I'm doing it anyway.
She's 27 or something like that now. She's got a boy of her own, who appears to be a hyperactive terror. I don't know if it's just in the genes or what. We're still in contact with her (going to visit this summer, in fact), and she has expressed regret that she didn't realize sooner just how much we were all trying to help her, in our own flawed ways. When we told her of the adoption plan, she had the most honest reaction I've ever heard: "didn't you learn your lesson with me?"
I'm a different person than I was 14 years ago. I have far less of a temper. I'm more at peace with myself. I've experienced a re-conversion to Christianity. I'm a fair bit more philosophical and self-controlled in a whole lot of ways.
I consider myself to have failed her in three important respects. The first is that I did not fully understand or appreciate who she was before I offered to take her in. I have a habit of expecting people to be their best, even when they are not. I find that expecting good things from someone improves my interactions with them over expecting bad things. It leaves me open to more injury, but I've never seen value in treating someone as a criminal -- you can live in your past, or you can live in spite of it, and I for one am here to help you do the latter. But it would have been nice if I had taken the time to really understand what I was dealing with so that I didn't expect too much too soon.
The second way that I failed her had to do with my parenting "technique", which largely involved a lot of yelling. I wanted her to be a good kid, and I had good times with her when she was, but when she screwed up, my only "skill" was yelling about it in an attempt to scare it out of her. I realize now that I was an idiot, and I'm actually looking forward to the parenting classes the State requires me to take. I'm depending on them to teach me some actual parenting skills.
The third way that I failed her was in finally giving up on her. This is honestly the only one that I'm ashamed of. The first two can be chalked up to judgment, in the mode of the old saying that good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment. I can't help that I didn't have experience then, and it's unrealistic for me to expect my past self to have had some. I've got some now, and I'm better for it.
But I'm still ashamed of the fact that I gave up on her. I'm sure I sent her a message that said she wasn't worth my time, and I can't imagine what that must have done. I also realize that it's entirely possible the foster family was the only place where she had any chance to "succeed", but it doesn't change the fact that I quit before I'd really exhausted every avenue. I've resolved to do no such thing this time around.
We had been married about 3 years, and were about 25 or 26 years old at the time. A younger relative was having problems with her single father, and we decided to try to intervene. We offered to take her in and see if we could better handle things, but in our hubris we made some critical errors in judgment.
The first was that we were 25 or 26 years old and jumping into a parenting relationship with a 13 year old girl. The second was that we were naively unaware of all the ways in which a 13 year old girl from the backwaters of Ohio could get herself into trouble in a suburb of Detroit. More experienced parents might have noticed that she was essentially starved for affection/attention, and known that she would immediately seek such things from friends and boys, or at least known that it was a really good possibility.
What followed was an 8-month stretch of virtually continuous contact with school authorities, police officers, random property owners, and other parents. Perhaps most disconcerting of all was the indifference displayed by that last group. We'd try to engage her friends' parents on what they were doing, and those parents would just give us a "kids will be kids" answer and laugh it off.
At the end of the period, we'd made arrangements to move to another suburb where we could get into a house instead of an apartment. We figured it would be good for her to have a change of scenery, but we were rapidly approaching our wits' end. We took a load of stuff to the new house, about 45 minutes away, and when we returned we found that she and her friends had kicked in the door to the apartment ("I forgot my key") and proceeded to put all sorts of holes in the drywall. My $1000 security deposit was as good as gone, and I realized that if 8 months with us hadn't taught her even the minimum amount of respect for the property of others, nothing we could do was likely to communicate that lesson.
It was a rough decision, and a rough trip back to Ohio, but we wound up handing her off to another relative who thought (also wrongly) that she could do better. Eventually the girl wound up in foster care with a family who apparently specialized in taming wild animals. For the time that she spent there, we mostly heard good reports of how well she was doing, with only the occasional report of more craziness (like jumping out of a 2nd-story window in an attempt to run away). But it seemed like every time she got out among "normal" folks like family members, she immediately felt a need to dial it up to Eleven.
I became convinced for some time after that there was no creature on earth quite as evil and malicious as a 13 year old girl. I still have moments of panic when I consider that we might have the same situation all over again, because there are no guarantees. I get a little impatient when folks give me the "you never know what you're getting when you adopt" speech, as though I'm all starry-eyed about the prospects. Believe me, I know how badly it can go. I desperately hope that it doesn't (again). But I'm doing it anyway.
She's 27 or something like that now. She's got a boy of her own, who appears to be a hyperactive terror. I don't know if it's just in the genes or what. We're still in contact with her (going to visit this summer, in fact), and she has expressed regret that she didn't realize sooner just how much we were all trying to help her, in our own flawed ways. When we told her of the adoption plan, she had the most honest reaction I've ever heard: "didn't you learn your lesson with me?"
I'm a different person than I was 14 years ago. I have far less of a temper. I'm more at peace with myself. I've experienced a re-conversion to Christianity. I'm a fair bit more philosophical and self-controlled in a whole lot of ways.
I consider myself to have failed her in three important respects. The first is that I did not fully understand or appreciate who she was before I offered to take her in. I have a habit of expecting people to be their best, even when they are not. I find that expecting good things from someone improves my interactions with them over expecting bad things. It leaves me open to more injury, but I've never seen value in treating someone as a criminal -- you can live in your past, or you can live in spite of it, and I for one am here to help you do the latter. But it would have been nice if I had taken the time to really understand what I was dealing with so that I didn't expect too much too soon.
The second way that I failed her had to do with my parenting "technique", which largely involved a lot of yelling. I wanted her to be a good kid, and I had good times with her when she was, but when she screwed up, my only "skill" was yelling about it in an attempt to scare it out of her. I realize now that I was an idiot, and I'm actually looking forward to the parenting classes the State requires me to take. I'm depending on them to teach me some actual parenting skills.
The third way that I failed her was in finally giving up on her. This is honestly the only one that I'm ashamed of. The first two can be chalked up to judgment, in the mode of the old saying that good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment. I can't help that I didn't have experience then, and it's unrealistic for me to expect my past self to have had some. I've got some now, and I'm better for it.
But I'm still ashamed of the fact that I gave up on her. I'm sure I sent her a message that said she wasn't worth my time, and I can't imagine what that must have done. I also realize that it's entirely possible the foster family was the only place where she had any chance to "succeed", but it doesn't change the fact that I quit before I'd really exhausted every avenue. I've resolved to do no such thing this time around.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Plans out the window
We've been keeping the whole adoption thing a secret from my parents. This is for two reasons: the first is that my mom went completely grandma-crazy over my brother's kids, and I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with that yet. The second is that it's long been a tradition in my family to save good news and such for surprises at special occasions. The bigger the news, the more it needs to be delivered as a surprise. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. It's just the culture of our family to do things that way.
Anyway, their birthdays are both in May, and for the occasion my brother and I have rented a cabin in Tennessee for a week, and we're all going to hang out together for that time. I was planning to deliver the adoption news then, hopefully with a copy of whatever license or paperwork we get from the State that says we're certified to start picking out kids.
My parents were planning to come down and visit us later on this year, probably some time in the fall. I was planning to tell them at the cabin to keep those plans loose so that they could be coordinated with our permanent placement, and then they could come down and meet their new grandkids.
It was all planned out, and now I'm learning that schedules have changed, and they think they can make it down next month for a short visit. The problem is that I know I won't be able to keep the secret from them while in close physical proximity. Heck, I almost spilled the beans on the phone the other day. When all of your thoughts and conversations of late have revolved around a particular subject, it's hard not to blab about it to anyone you talk to.
So I guess they're getting their birthday gift a little earlier than planned. I suppose changing plans is something I'll have to get used to when kids come along anyway, so I need to see this as practice.
Anyway, their birthdays are both in May, and for the occasion my brother and I have rented a cabin in Tennessee for a week, and we're all going to hang out together for that time. I was planning to deliver the adoption news then, hopefully with a copy of whatever license or paperwork we get from the State that says we're certified to start picking out kids.
My parents were planning to come down and visit us later on this year, probably some time in the fall. I was planning to tell them at the cabin to keep those plans loose so that they could be coordinated with our permanent placement, and then they could come down and meet their new grandkids.
It was all planned out, and now I'm learning that schedules have changed, and they think they can make it down next month for a short visit. The problem is that I know I won't be able to keep the secret from them while in close physical proximity. Heck, I almost spilled the beans on the phone the other day. When all of your thoughts and conversations of late have revolved around a particular subject, it's hard not to blab about it to anyone you talk to.
So I guess they're getting their birthday gift a little earlier than planned. I suppose changing plans is something I'll have to get used to when kids come along anyway, so I need to see this as practice.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Schrodinger's Kids
It's weird to me that we keep talking about "the kids" as though they are already here, when in fact to us they are mere hypotheticals, without a concrete number, names of their own, or even physical descriptions. It's weirder that somewhere out there in America, "our" kids do in fact already exist and possess all of these attributes and more. They're simply waiting for us to choose to be and be chosen as their parents.
It's a sort of quantum existence; they are here yet not here, and neither we nor they know when or how the matter will be resolved. And yet my faith leads me to believe that even now, God is already pulling the threads of our lives together, weaving them ever closer to the point where they will become intertwined.
It's a sort of quantum existence; they are here yet not here, and neither we nor they know when or how the matter will be resolved. And yet my faith leads me to believe that even now, God is already pulling the threads of our lives together, weaving them ever closer to the point where they will become intertwined.
Marching Orders
I have been informed by the wife-unit that once we have kids, we WILL be going to Disney, no matter how much the idea makes my skin crawl. She even sent me this handy guide to Disney survival:
Disney Tips N Tricks
I knew there would be sacrifices, but this fills me with more dread than my colonoscopy.
Disney Tips N Tricks
I knew there would be sacrifices, but this fills me with more dread than my colonoscopy.
Transportamatation
One material concern we face is the possibility that our vehicles may be inadequate to our transportation needs once we've got some kids running around. We have a small hatchback for commuting and a pickup truck with an extended cab. Neither is a problem if we wind up with 2 kids, but 3 will very quickly become problematic.
We don't want to be in the position of saying "no" to a group of kids who would otherwise be a great match for us, solely on the basis of not having the vehicles available to cart them around. Granted, we could always take 2 vehicles everywhere, but with gas prices being what they are, I imagine that will get old very quickly.
I also have an inexplicable fixation on the idea of (at least) 3 kids, and think it's likely that if it gets down to a choice between a group of 2 and a group of more, I'll probably want to go for the larger group. Our extended families live in Ohio, and we generally make that trip by car due to the cost and aggravation of air travel.
All this means we're on the lookout for a larger passenger vehicle. Used car lots are of course the pricier end of that spectrum, but fortunately the wife is a virtuoso of craigslist shopping, and she's already located some decent-looking deals. We're primarily thinking minivans/SUVs with 3 rows of seats, like the Highlander or whatever it was we took to Ohio with my brother one year.
I'm not anxious to run out and spend a few thousand dollars on a vehicle, and it may work out that we won't have to, but I don't want that to be an obstacle. I haven't checked, but I'm fairly certain it won't be a tax write-off like other adoption expenses, a write-off we're really hoping for on things like air travel if we wind up having to fly somewhere to meet some kids.
Anyway, I'm not really going anywhere with this, it just keeps looming in my consciousness like a phone bill that hasn't arrived yet after a month when you know you've been overusing it.
We don't want to be in the position of saying "no" to a group of kids who would otherwise be a great match for us, solely on the basis of not having the vehicles available to cart them around. Granted, we could always take 2 vehicles everywhere, but with gas prices being what they are, I imagine that will get old very quickly.
I also have an inexplicable fixation on the idea of (at least) 3 kids, and think it's likely that if it gets down to a choice between a group of 2 and a group of more, I'll probably want to go for the larger group. Our extended families live in Ohio, and we generally make that trip by car due to the cost and aggravation of air travel.
All this means we're on the lookout for a larger passenger vehicle. Used car lots are of course the pricier end of that spectrum, but fortunately the wife is a virtuoso of craigslist shopping, and she's already located some decent-looking deals. We're primarily thinking minivans/SUVs with 3 rows of seats, like the Highlander or whatever it was we took to Ohio with my brother one year.
I'm not anxious to run out and spend a few thousand dollars on a vehicle, and it may work out that we won't have to, but I don't want that to be an obstacle. I haven't checked, but I'm fairly certain it won't be a tax write-off like other adoption expenses, a write-off we're really hoping for on things like air travel if we wind up having to fly somewhere to meet some kids.
Anyway, I'm not really going anywhere with this, it just keeps looming in my consciousness like a phone bill that hasn't arrived yet after a month when you know you've been overusing it.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Physi- phys- ph-... checkup
Just got out of my physical with my doctor, to complete that last piece of the application for me. It's funny that I've been seeing this doctor for something like 3 years, and the longest conversation I've ever had with her came about because she was so interested in our plans for adoption.
In fact, the nurse who did all the vitals before the doctor came in also wanted to hear all the details. So I told the story twice... about how we're hoping to find a sibling group, we're looking between ages 4 and 12 primarily, and we're looking to (probably) do it across state lines. I told the nurse that we'd been married almost 18 years, never able to have kids of our own, and since I just turned 40 we figured it was time to act on it or give it up. That's when I got the best compliment of the day:
"You don't look anywhere close to 40."
That made me feel 10 feet tall.
Anyway, I told them about AdoptUSKids.org, and how the wife and I have been "window-shopping" for children for the past few months. I even got into a discussion with the doctor over our previous experiences with children and what ages are most likely to be the most difficult to work with. We both agreed that 13-15 can be a real challenge.
At the end, she handed over the form, completely filled out, even though I never saw her write anything on it. She must have filled it out from my chart or something, then done the exam just to confirm what she already knew. Either way, we're off to the races. Wife gets her physical done Thursday.
In fact, the nurse who did all the vitals before the doctor came in also wanted to hear all the details. So I told the story twice... about how we're hoping to find a sibling group, we're looking between ages 4 and 12 primarily, and we're looking to (probably) do it across state lines. I told the nurse that we'd been married almost 18 years, never able to have kids of our own, and since I just turned 40 we figured it was time to act on it or give it up. That's when I got the best compliment of the day:
"You don't look anywhere close to 40."
That made me feel 10 feet tall.
Anyway, I told them about AdoptUSKids.org, and how the wife and I have been "window-shopping" for children for the past few months. I even got into a discussion with the doctor over our previous experiences with children and what ages are most likely to be the most difficult to work with. We both agreed that 13-15 can be a real challenge.
At the end, she handed over the form, completely filled out, even though I never saw her write anything on it. She must have filled it out from my chart or something, then done the exam just to confirm what she already knew. Either way, we're off to the races. Wife gets her physical done Thursday.
Playing House
As we live out the preparation and anticipation of becoming parents, my wife and I find ourselves engaging in hypothetical daydreaming about our various activities, and how they would be changed with the addition of kids. I call this "playing house"... after the game almost everyone played as a kid.
We always sort of assume that we're talking about children between the ages of 4 and 12 or so. I think that might be because that's what we desire, but sometimes I find myself considering what would change with a teenager. Kids under the age of 3 or 4 would change everything so radically that I don't really have a way to easily grasp it, so I try not to think about it.
Yesterday brought a sobering example of the exercise. It was about 2 or 3 in the afternoon, and neither of us had slept well the night before, so we were both hitting a real low point in our energy levels. We were out running errands, but we agreed to skip a few and head home to take a nap instead.
That's when it hit us: how would the scenario play out with kids? Is it even possible to get a nap in on a Sunday afternoon with kids between the ages of 4 and 12? Sure, with a teenager handy you could always have them keep an eye on the younger ones, but what if we didn't have a teenager handy? I saw myself chugging 5-Hour Energy and Dr. Pepper in a desperate bid to stay awake long enough to buy my wife a nap, since if she doesn't nap when she's that tired, it's Migraine City.
My biggest worry though is how I'll react to kids when I'm dragging my rear end around. I'm capable of a fair amount of calm and serenity when I've had sleep and feel centered. I'm also capable of being a raging grizzly bear when I haven't. In some ways, it's good for kids to have a little fear of Dad, but I don't want that to be the normal state of affairs. Angry doesn't usually communicate love very well, and I'm already concerned about my ability to form and express that parental bond with my kids, especially if they come from a background that makes them mistrustful of such bonds. I'm also an introvert, which is already a hindrance to forming even new casual relationships, to say nothing of deeper ones.
I spent some time pondering all this as we drove home, and even though I got my nap, I think by the time we pulled into the garage, I had found some reserve of energy that said I could have made it through the next several hours if I'd needed to. That gives me a fair amount of hope and optimism for the future.
We always sort of assume that we're talking about children between the ages of 4 and 12 or so. I think that might be because that's what we desire, but sometimes I find myself considering what would change with a teenager. Kids under the age of 3 or 4 would change everything so radically that I don't really have a way to easily grasp it, so I try not to think about it.
Yesterday brought a sobering example of the exercise. It was about 2 or 3 in the afternoon, and neither of us had slept well the night before, so we were both hitting a real low point in our energy levels. We were out running errands, but we agreed to skip a few and head home to take a nap instead.
That's when it hit us: how would the scenario play out with kids? Is it even possible to get a nap in on a Sunday afternoon with kids between the ages of 4 and 12? Sure, with a teenager handy you could always have them keep an eye on the younger ones, but what if we didn't have a teenager handy? I saw myself chugging 5-Hour Energy and Dr. Pepper in a desperate bid to stay awake long enough to buy my wife a nap, since if she doesn't nap when she's that tired, it's Migraine City.
My biggest worry though is how I'll react to kids when I'm dragging my rear end around. I'm capable of a fair amount of calm and serenity when I've had sleep and feel centered. I'm also capable of being a raging grizzly bear when I haven't. In some ways, it's good for kids to have a little fear of Dad, but I don't want that to be the normal state of affairs. Angry doesn't usually communicate love very well, and I'm already concerned about my ability to form and express that parental bond with my kids, especially if they come from a background that makes them mistrustful of such bonds. I'm also an introvert, which is already a hindrance to forming even new casual relationships, to say nothing of deeper ones.
I spent some time pondering all this as we drove home, and even though I got my nap, I think by the time we pulled into the garage, I had found some reserve of energy that said I could have made it through the next several hours if I'd needed to. That gives me a fair amount of hope and optimism for the future.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Parenting 101...
... as told by the writers of Cracked.com.
5 Ways to Avoid Your Terrible Parents' Mistakes
Seriously bad language. You've been warned.
It does, in its rather crude way, highlight a lot of what keeps me awake at night. It's not that my parents were terrible parents, it's that I fear making huge mistakes like terrible parents do. I'm probably not unique in this regard, but I've got a lot of time to think about it since I'm not simultaneously in the midst of trying to be a parent while worrying about the quality of parent that I am. It leaves a lot of cycles free for wondering just how badly I'm going to screw it up.
5 Ways to Avoid Your Terrible Parents' Mistakes
Seriously bad language. You've been warned.
It does, in its rather crude way, highlight a lot of what keeps me awake at night. It's not that my parents were terrible parents, it's that I fear making huge mistakes like terrible parents do. I'm probably not unique in this regard, but I've got a lot of time to think about it since I'm not simultaneously in the midst of trying to be a parent while worrying about the quality of parent that I am. It leaves a lot of cycles free for wondering just how badly I'm going to screw it up.
It keeps running through my mind
"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."
-- James 1:27
-- James 1:27
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Finishing the Paperwork
We've both got appointments for physicals next week. We've also got our personal references lined up and ready to go. Assuming all goes according to plan, we'll be sending the whole packet in next Friday.
Monday, February 7, 2011
So, how about that weather?
Haven't said much this last week because I've been pretty busy with the weather-related stuff as well as work. I was reminded of how much I hated shoveling snow as a kid, when my dad would say we'd better have the driveway clear by the time he got home from work. Of course, Oklahoma's winters are far better in this regard than Ohio's, so I think my kids will be safe.
And this of course makes me want to think of other ways to toughen them up. I ran across the following video in my internet travels, and I thought it was very well done.
The author makes a compelling, if somewhat crude, point: kids need to be shown their inner toughness. I know of some people with kids in their 20's and 30's (and older) who still do everything for them, as though the children are still 9 or 10.
This brings me to an interesting dilemma... on the one hand, I'm going to be adopting kids, most likely out of a foster home, and most likely ones who have seen some tragedy in their short lives, whether from abuse or loss or whatever. On the other hand, I believe that parents have a responsibility to prepare their kids for adulthood: to prepare them to take complete responsibility for themselves and their own well-being. I think there's going to be a difficult challenge ahead of me, attempting to balance the nurturing that the kids will require with the hard lessons that must come in order to prepare kids for adulthood.
I have friends whose children are well into their teenage years, and these kids can't even begin to imagine cooking a meal for themselves or washing their own clothes. I share some of that... my parents never wanted me in the kitchen except to wash the dishes. My cooking skills were nonexistent when I left home, and if it weren't for my jobs at fast food restaurants I probably would have starved to death.
On the other hand, I started washing my own clothes as soon as I was old enough to drive. My parents didn't want me wrecking their washer & dryer, so they sent me to the laundromat. It boggles my mind that there are kids who don't know how to perform this simple task -- I still wash my own clothes today, and I've been married almost 18 years.
There are other things... what good is a teenager who can't mow the lawn? One guy told me he didn't have his kid do it because his kid didn't do it right, so he just does it himself. I can't understand the mentality that says it's somehow better to skip a teachable moment in the interests of just getting the thing done -- we're not talking about just a particular Saturday, we're talking about All Summer Long. In my mind, this is child abuse.
Kids need to be prepared for adulthood. There also needs to be room for them to be kids. I see it as a spectrum, from 0% responsibility at infancy to 100% responsibility at the time they leave home (ideally at or around 18 years of age). So when I encounter a 14-year-old who's only about 20% responsible for himself, it depresses me just as much as when I meet a similar 14-year-old who's had to become the parent of their younger siblings.
I don't begrudge kids their "useless plastic toys" or "stupid video games", as some folks do. I remember thinking that my Star Wars action figures were the most important things in the world, and I think it's better to let a kid grow out of that and develop other interests than to constantly berate them for not having more adult values. I think that will come naturally, perhaps at different speeds for different kids, as they become more and more responsible for themselves, and that's why parents need to work at getting the kids to be more and more responsible as they grow older.
Anyway, these are the sorts of things I think about when I think about what it means to be a dad.
And this of course makes me want to think of other ways to toughen them up. I ran across the following video in my internet travels, and I thought it was very well done.
The author makes a compelling, if somewhat crude, point: kids need to be shown their inner toughness. I know of some people with kids in their 20's and 30's (and older) who still do everything for them, as though the children are still 9 or 10.
This brings me to an interesting dilemma... on the one hand, I'm going to be adopting kids, most likely out of a foster home, and most likely ones who have seen some tragedy in their short lives, whether from abuse or loss or whatever. On the other hand, I believe that parents have a responsibility to prepare their kids for adulthood: to prepare them to take complete responsibility for themselves and their own well-being. I think there's going to be a difficult challenge ahead of me, attempting to balance the nurturing that the kids will require with the hard lessons that must come in order to prepare kids for adulthood.
I have friends whose children are well into their teenage years, and these kids can't even begin to imagine cooking a meal for themselves or washing their own clothes. I share some of that... my parents never wanted me in the kitchen except to wash the dishes. My cooking skills were nonexistent when I left home, and if it weren't for my jobs at fast food restaurants I probably would have starved to death.
On the other hand, I started washing my own clothes as soon as I was old enough to drive. My parents didn't want me wrecking their washer & dryer, so they sent me to the laundromat. It boggles my mind that there are kids who don't know how to perform this simple task -- I still wash my own clothes today, and I've been married almost 18 years.
There are other things... what good is a teenager who can't mow the lawn? One guy told me he didn't have his kid do it because his kid didn't do it right, so he just does it himself. I can't understand the mentality that says it's somehow better to skip a teachable moment in the interests of just getting the thing done -- we're not talking about just a particular Saturday, we're talking about All Summer Long. In my mind, this is child abuse.
Kids need to be prepared for adulthood. There also needs to be room for them to be kids. I see it as a spectrum, from 0% responsibility at infancy to 100% responsibility at the time they leave home (ideally at or around 18 years of age). So when I encounter a 14-year-old who's only about 20% responsible for himself, it depresses me just as much as when I meet a similar 14-year-old who's had to become the parent of their younger siblings.
I don't begrudge kids their "useless plastic toys" or "stupid video games", as some folks do. I remember thinking that my Star Wars action figures were the most important things in the world, and I think it's better to let a kid grow out of that and develop other interests than to constantly berate them for not having more adult values. I think that will come naturally, perhaps at different speeds for different kids, as they become more and more responsible for themselves, and that's why parents need to work at getting the kids to be more and more responsible as they grow older.
Anyway, these are the sorts of things I think about when I think about what it means to be a dad.
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