The pre-homestudy walkthrough went fine. We gave her a quick tour of the house, went through yet another questionnaire that repeated a lot of questions from the initial application we sent in a month or so ago, and had a short discussion about the process going forward.
We covered one question I was dreading…
"Are there any weapons in the house?"
"Why, what do you need?"
OK, I didn't say that, but I wanted to. She sounded reasonably certain that our various precautions were sufficient in that regard.
Shopping list:
Fire extinguishers
Smoke detectors
Child-resistant cabinet door latches
About a billion (give or take) of those little plastic dealies that you put in electrical outlets
The last one gave me pause. We're probably looking at first grade and up as far as age goes, and I kept trying to remember how old my brother was when he stuck mom's keys into the electrical outlet in our bedroom. Whatever, we'll buy the stupid things and just not use them if the kids we get are old enough.
Oh yeah, and the dogs are all going for booster shots. That'll be fun.
At this point we've got about a week or two while the latest questionnaire goes through channels, after which we'll be contacted by a contractor to do the actual home study, and we'll be given contact info about how to set up our parenting classes.
The whole thing still makes me grit my teeth, but I'm maintaining my calm.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Today's the Day
Our pre-homestudy walkthrough happens today. It'll be our first real contact with our caseworker. We spent a few minutes this morning fussing over the making of the bed, fretting over whether this or that was clean enough, wondering what to do with the dogs, fretting over things out of place or looking cluttered, and so forth.
We're a little wound up.
And of course the laughable nature of the situation came back into conversation with my coworkers this morning. If you've got fully functioning reproductive organs, you can pop out as many kids as you desire, and as long as nothing gains the attention of the authorities, you never have to say or do anything. But if you're going to adopt or foster someone else's kids, you have to invite the government into your home, seek its approval, get background checked and fingerprinted, take classes on parenting, and jump through any number of other hoops I haven't discovered yet, all for the crime of being infertile.
I can already hear the protests: "but it's for the children!" If that were so, all of this would be required before you could have kids naturally. Line forms to the left.
We're a little wound up.
And of course the laughable nature of the situation came back into conversation with my coworkers this morning. If you've got fully functioning reproductive organs, you can pop out as many kids as you desire, and as long as nothing gains the attention of the authorities, you never have to say or do anything. But if you're going to adopt or foster someone else's kids, you have to invite the government into your home, seek its approval, get background checked and fingerprinted, take classes on parenting, and jump through any number of other hoops I haven't discovered yet, all for the crime of being infertile.
I can already hear the protests: "but it's for the children!" If that were so, all of this would be required before you could have kids naturally. Line forms to the left.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Grandma's Revenge
The story of kid karma is pretty well-known. You drive your parents nuts being X kind of child, and you get X kind of child when you become a parent. As one comedian put it, the goal of parenthood is to live long enough to see your grandchildren get revenge on your kids.
My brother's firstborn is stubborn as a mule, much like his dad. Our dad loves to tell the anecdote of how my brother, at around 6 or 7 years old, refused to eat his dinner and sat at the table and made himself sick rather than eat a couple of bites of something he'd probably eaten before and has probably eaten since. This is the kid who later declared he wanted to slurp a raw egg, and mom went along with it just to see if he'd actually do it, so it's not about food grossing him out. He just wasn't going to eat his dinner, and nobody was darn well going to tell him otherwise.
The nephew is now exacting Grandma's Revenge on him, and thus all is well with the universe as I understand it.
I recently started thinking of what I was like as a kid. Of course, I only have my perspective to go on, but I remember being pretty closed off, content to lose myself in a book rather than engage with anyone (including or perhaps especially family). I also preferred to learn things "the hard way". I remember distinctly being told about this or that, and why you do something this way and not the other way. I also remember thinking in each of those circumstances, "maybe someone just hasn't really given the other way a fair shot". And then I'd go off and do it "the hard way", just to find out if what I'd been told was correct.
Most of the time, it was. But I was rewarded in my endeavors often enough that I kept up the pattern of behavior well into adulthood.
I don't know if my parents ever realized that I was doing things this way consciously and deliberately, but that's the way I learn. I have a visceral need to experience the failure of "the wrong way" first-hand. For me, learning is an iterative process, and that's probably why I love what I do for a living. Granted, my wife's patience doesn't allow for as much iteration as I'd prefer, especially when it comes to doing stuff around the house.
("Why can't we just leave it like that for a while? I'll eventually get tired of looking at the crooked board and figure out how to fix it.")
But I still learn best when I have time to discover and contemplate my mistakes rather than having someone point them out to me, or worse, try to anticipate my mistakes beforehand.
We're adopting, so maybe none of this applies at all, but I can't help thinking that more than likely I'll wind up with a kid who needs to learn experientially, who doesn't process criticism (even the constructive kind) gracefully, and who would rather be left alone with a book or computer than dragged to a family function, even something as entertaining as the Christmas get-together. I could also end up with a kid who's a little too smart and a little too anti-social for his own good. I think I'm up to the challenge, but only time will tell.
I know my parents are waiting to be entertained.
My brother's firstborn is stubborn as a mule, much like his dad. Our dad loves to tell the anecdote of how my brother, at around 6 or 7 years old, refused to eat his dinner and sat at the table and made himself sick rather than eat a couple of bites of something he'd probably eaten before and has probably eaten since. This is the kid who later declared he wanted to slurp a raw egg, and mom went along with it just to see if he'd actually do it, so it's not about food grossing him out. He just wasn't going to eat his dinner, and nobody was darn well going to tell him otherwise.
The nephew is now exacting Grandma's Revenge on him, and thus all is well with the universe as I understand it.
I recently started thinking of what I was like as a kid. Of course, I only have my perspective to go on, but I remember being pretty closed off, content to lose myself in a book rather than engage with anyone (including or perhaps especially family). I also preferred to learn things "the hard way". I remember distinctly being told about this or that, and why you do something this way and not the other way. I also remember thinking in each of those circumstances, "maybe someone just hasn't really given the other way a fair shot". And then I'd go off and do it "the hard way", just to find out if what I'd been told was correct.
Most of the time, it was. But I was rewarded in my endeavors often enough that I kept up the pattern of behavior well into adulthood.
I don't know if my parents ever realized that I was doing things this way consciously and deliberately, but that's the way I learn. I have a visceral need to experience the failure of "the wrong way" first-hand. For me, learning is an iterative process, and that's probably why I love what I do for a living. Granted, my wife's patience doesn't allow for as much iteration as I'd prefer, especially when it comes to doing stuff around the house.
("Why can't we just leave it like that for a while? I'll eventually get tired of looking at the crooked board and figure out how to fix it.")
But I still learn best when I have time to discover and contemplate my mistakes rather than having someone point them out to me, or worse, try to anticipate my mistakes beforehand.
We're adopting, so maybe none of this applies at all, but I can't help thinking that more than likely I'll wind up with a kid who needs to learn experientially, who doesn't process criticism (even the constructive kind) gracefully, and who would rather be left alone with a book or computer than dragged to a family function, even something as entertaining as the Christmas get-together. I could also end up with a kid who's a little too smart and a little too anti-social for his own good. I think I'm up to the challenge, but only time will tell.
I know my parents are waiting to be entertained.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Yeah, that
Blogs like this one are the reason I want to be a parent. It's entertaining to read the blogs about stress and the funny stuff kids do, but my absolute favorites are the ones where parents just talk about the kind of people their kids are.
I've always wanted to hear what people (not just my parents) say about me rather than to me. Even when someone's giving you a compliment, there's a bit of skew in the message because they're talking to you rather than to someone else. So when other parents talk about their kids in ways that their kids aren't really reading, I just find it fascinating.
I've always wanted to hear what people (not just my parents) say about me rather than to me. Even when someone's giving you a compliment, there's a bit of skew in the message because they're talking to you rather than to someone else. So when other parents talk about their kids in ways that their kids aren't really reading, I just find it fascinating.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Phone Call!
Got a call from Tonya today. We've got an appointment for a pre-homestudy walkthrough. I think, based on past conversations, that this means our background check didn't turn up any problems (not that I figured it would).
Worries and Wonderings
One of my favorite people in the whole world is a Methodist minister named Richard. He's an expert in "family systems", which I take to mean the relational dynamics that occur within a family and also how it affects the individuals' relationships outside the family. He has a great ability to empathize and see things from another's point of view, and he is always a calming influence on me when I am troubled or agitated about something.
Richard once had a conversation with me about children. It was in the context of dealing with troubled children, but he phrased his main thought in such a way as to include all children. He said, "I almost believe that if each child has someone in their lives who values them just for being, whose relationship with the child communicates clearly 'you are valuable just because you are here', without putting expectations or judgments into the mix... that would almost be enough."
I don't know if it's appropriate for one attempting to parent to be that person or not. It seems that parenting necessarily involves some expectations and judgments, so it may be that only a grandparent or aunt or uncle can really be that person. But to the extent that I am able, this is what I want to communicate to our kids. "You are valuable just because you are here." It seems especially important to me when I consider the message that may have been communicated to them through the foster care system: "you are a burden and a lot of trouble to have around... so much so that we actually have to pay people to care for you."
I worry constantly about being able to forge a connection with our kids. My nephew knows instinctively who his parents are. He's never had to think about it, and he feels an attachment to them at a profound level. I have almost no hope of being able to reach that level with our kids, and I despair at being able to even approach it. I'm an introvert to begin with, and sometimes interaction with my wife is about all I can handle. How do I convince two or more strangers, who have likely been hurt by other adults, that I do actually care for them and want to have that same connection that my brother and his son obviously share?
Wow, suddenly my mind just shot over to the standard Christian narrative about God trying to convince us all that He loves us. I'm going to have to ruminate on that a bit.
Richard once had a conversation with me about children. It was in the context of dealing with troubled children, but he phrased his main thought in such a way as to include all children. He said, "I almost believe that if each child has someone in their lives who values them just for being, whose relationship with the child communicates clearly 'you are valuable just because you are here', without putting expectations or judgments into the mix... that would almost be enough."
I don't know if it's appropriate for one attempting to parent to be that person or not. It seems that parenting necessarily involves some expectations and judgments, so it may be that only a grandparent or aunt or uncle can really be that person. But to the extent that I am able, this is what I want to communicate to our kids. "You are valuable just because you are here." It seems especially important to me when I consider the message that may have been communicated to them through the foster care system: "you are a burden and a lot of trouble to have around... so much so that we actually have to pay people to care for you."
I worry constantly about being able to forge a connection with our kids. My nephew knows instinctively who his parents are. He's never had to think about it, and he feels an attachment to them at a profound level. I have almost no hope of being able to reach that level with our kids, and I despair at being able to even approach it. I'm an introvert to begin with, and sometimes interaction with my wife is about all I can handle. How do I convince two or more strangers, who have likely been hurt by other adults, that I do actually care for them and want to have that same connection that my brother and his son obviously share?
Wow, suddenly my mind just shot over to the standard Christian narrative about God trying to convince us all that He loves us. I'm going to have to ruminate on that a bit.
Back to the Wait
The 'rents are headed back to Ohio, bearing the news for the rest of the extended family (at least, the ones who aren't on Facebook). They really enjoyed the video that DHS sent us, and said it changed their attitude toward adopting teenagers, as it did my own.
The teenager question is a weird one. I go from thinking it'd probably be OK to thinking it'd be a disaster. Suddenly having a 16- or 17-year-old hanging around is an extremely intimidating image. At that point it feels like the best you can offer is a sort of "finishing school" to prepare them for The Real World (by which I mean, not the show on MTV). It would necessarily be a cooperative effort, and if they don't feel like cooperating I don't know how much could be done about it.
I spent thewaffling weekending weekend waffling between complete confidence and near panic about the whole thing. There's so much to talk about that I felt like I couldn't figure out where to begin, so I just kept blurting out random thoughts like a Tourette's patient. We had some good conversations, and I'm sure there'll be more in the months ahead.
Oh yeah, I left another message with Tonya, and attempted to call Gisele...
*drums fingers on table*
*twiddles thumbs*
*whistles tunelessly*
...guess that's about it.
The teenager question is a weird one. I go from thinking it'd probably be OK to thinking it'd be a disaster. Suddenly having a 16- or 17-year-old hanging around is an extremely intimidating image. At that point it feels like the best you can offer is a sort of "finishing school" to prepare them for The Real World (by which I mean, not the show on MTV). It would necessarily be a cooperative effort, and if they don't feel like cooperating I don't know how much could be done about it.
I spent the
Oh yeah, I left another message with Tonya, and attempted to call Gisele...
*drums fingers on table*
*twiddles thumbs*
*whistles tunelessly*
...guess that's about it.
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