Forever Family

Do you have a secret?

Is it a tiny little secret, or a big whopper that haunts you in the dark?  Are you keeping it from someone you barely know, or hiding it from someone you deeply love?  Are you looking for the perfect time and place to tell someone your secret, or are you perfectly content to let it stay clandestine?

As you can tell, I have a secret.  It’s from my son.  I haven’t told him yet because….well…he’s not quite 3.  He wouldn’t get it.  But I will.  Yeah….I’m pretty sure I will.

No really…I will!  I promise!

But how?  How do you tell a little kid that they’re adopted?  What will that mean to him?

I have some great commenters.  On my post yesterday, Ken @ Dad to Two mentioned he found out about his secret when he was 39.  Kristy mentioned she found out when she was 7.  Shelly revealed she’s adopted, but didn’t mention at what age she found out.  Carl said that his uncle didn’t find out till he was 40.  I could go on, but the theme here is that there is no magic formula to follow.  When is the best time?  When is the worst?

This dilemma is something I’ve considered since the day I started thinking about adopting.  I know it’s something I’ve come to terms with, which I hope would be obvious.  I don’t care that my son is not biologically mine.  I love him with all my heart and soul.  But that doesn’t necessarily mean he will have an easy time dealing with it.  I sincerely hope our good bond and healthy parent/child relationship will mean something, but I can’t say we won’t have our challenges.

I know…I just KNOW…that day will come when we argue about something.  I’ll send him to his room or ground him, and he’s going to fire back with “you’re not my real mom,” or “I want to go live with my real mom.”

Well, you’re stuck me, Kiddo.  You’re wasting your breath.  After all, I’M your real mom, for better or for worse.

Anyway, I’m slipping off subject.  What I want to know is when I should tell him.

I did a lot of research on the subject before and during our license process.  The experts generally agree that the child should be told early and often.  It should be treated like it’s no big deal, and just a part of who they are.  One suggestion was to start telling to them as infants like a bedtime story.  Sure, they may not understand what you’re actually saying, but to think of it as a rehearsal.  That way, when they were finally old enough to understand, you are so used to telling the story that it’s not a big deal.

At first, I liked this option.  I thought for sure I could do that.  But the more I thought about it, the more I decided against it.  First of all, you’re then talking about adoption with your kids ALL THE TIME.  It’s like you spend time every day pointing out the differences in your family.  Then your kids are always thinking about it, then comparing themselves to the kids around them, and constantly dwelling on something that makes them different.  I don’t want him to do that.  I want him to enjoy being a kid.  I want him to know, but not obsess.

Then there’s the “son we need to talk” approach.  Wait until they’re of an age they can comprehend these kinds of things (like Kristy’s 7 years) and sit them down.  I’m not sure I like that approach, either.  How do you determine that magic age?

My approach thus far has been to document.  I have scrapbooks about the early days, with bubbles of dialog filled in that say things like “Our first visit” and “The day you came home.”  The picture that follows is clearly NOT that of a newborn.  His previous foster mom was good enough to give us a few pics of some of the firsts we missed, and those are in his scrapbook, too.  My labels says “Even though we weren’t with you yet…”

Kiddo loves to look at these books.  Although it’s somewhat accidental, I suppose this will be the tool we use to help start that understanding with him.  We’ll see how well that works out.

Anger, if not restrained, is frequently more hurtful to us than the injury that provokes it.

-Lucius Annaeus Seneca

I am going to be very good today.  I am bursting to comment more about Nadya Suleman, but I am not going to do it.  

Plenty is already being said, and if you’ve followed any of my posts, you already know how I feel about the whole thing.  

Ok, so I will inhale deeply.  In with the clean air, exhale the toxins.  And again.

I’m pretty angry.  Maybe one more time.

I am channeling healthy energy and continue my quest to change minds in regards to adoption.  Boy, if I could just get 20 minutes with that Nadya Suleman…

Sorry!!!!!  I couldn’t help it!

Anyhoo,  let’s talk a little about attachment.  Since there is a fairly common misconception that you cannot love an adopted child as much as you would love a bio one, this is a better use of my time.

I’ve mentioned it more than once in previous posts, but it takes a little work as an adoptive parent to nurture the parent/child relationship.  The technique varies, largely depending on the age of the child, but background should also be considered. 

For example, If a child was physically abused, often times physical contact can be difficult, and even discouraged.  An innocent hug could be threatening.  You need to know the history before you proceed with ANYTHING.

Fundamentally, you need to gain that child’s trust.  With an infant, this is NOT the time to let them cry it out in their crib.  You want to respond quickly and lovingly, to start to demonstrate to the child that you can be counted on.  With older kids, you have the advantage of language and being able to explain and talk about what’s going on, but almost always actions speak louder than words.  You have got to be there when they need you, even if they insist that you don’t.  Engage early and often.  Talk with others involved in their day to day life, like teachers, etc.  

If both parents work, I think it is absolutely crucial that you take leave from work for at least several weeks.  Those first few weeks are so vital, and it’s really hard to start forming a bond of trust if you only see the child for 3 hours at night.

This can be tricky, because it’s rare for employers to have a policy recognizing “maternity leave” for adoptive parents (this goes for dads, too).  Typically you should have access to FMLA leave, but that is usually unpaid.  Especially in today’s economy, it’s tough to be out that paycheck, plus have the new financial burden of providing for the new child.  

In our case, we started our process in February, and I hoped we would be placed with a child by the end of the year.  I horded every bit of my paid time off, including sick days.  I planned to take this off as one big chunk once baby came home, so I could still get a full paycheck.

Our situation worked out nicely. Our placement occurred towards the end of the year.  My PTO from the year carried me through to the end, and then I got a fresh bank of PTO on January 1.  I then took all of my time coming to me for the following year right away.

I was also extremely fortunate to have a wonderful and sympathetic employer.  They were fantastic, and allowed me to work from home for a while, and even to let me bring the baby into work.  Frankly, without their cooperation, I don’t know how we would have managed.  

This is one case where I didn’t hesitate to play the foster care card.  Normally I don’t like to manipulate a situation to get what I want, but this was my first lesson in parenthood.  I will swallow my own pride to get my child whatever it is he needs.  

When it was all said and done, I was home with Kiddo for about 9 weeks.  In my opinion, even with an infant, it was not enough.  I suppose it never is.

We snuggled, and snuggled, and snuggled some more.  I held Kiddo as much as I possibly could.  I have heard of some parents using a sling or snuggly to even “wear” kiddo as much as possible.  There is much proof that if physical contact is possible, especially with infants, it is crucial to forming that bond.  

I also talked to him A LOT, and sang as much as possible.  He needed to know the sound of my voice.

I loved his physical therapy sessions, because I got to work with him on his exercises.  This was also an incredibly physical process, which helped foster trust.  We would practice his PT at home daily, and I would always keep talking to him through it.

We stuck to a schedule, and were never late feeding him or bathing him.  I never wanted him to have an opportunity to wonder if his needs would be fulfilled.  I anticipated as much as possible.

We had family come visit him right away, which I have since decided was a good idea.  At the time, it was kind of a nuisance to have people invading our little nest right away, but looking back, I would absolutely do that again.  It was great to have people getting excited over him, being happy, and adoring him.

This all sounds like common sense stuff, right?  Yeah, I suppose it’s not rocket science.  But you REALLY have to be aware and thinking of it all the time.  Those early days could set the tone for the rest of your lives, so a good foundation is absolutely crucial.  

Besides, it’s not like it’s work or anything.  Snuggling, playing games, hanging out, or whatever you do to bond with your kids is fun, right?  Then imagine the payback, when Kiddo smiles at you or hugs you for the first time.  If that doesn’t melt your heart, then I have no hope for you.  

There is a wealth of information that can be found on bonding and attachment.  Check out some of the links to websites I’ve listed on my blog to get started.  

So I was good today, and even posted something relevant instead of my random brain farts like yesterday’s post about the birds.  Yeah for me!

I am watching the Dateline special about Suleman tonight, though.  It may be harder for me to behave tomorrow.  If I don’t post tomorrow, just know because I’m too busy sputtering and spewing incoherently to put my thoughts to paper.  

After all, Lucius Annaeus Seneca also said:

Anger: an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.

My son loves pickles.  And broccoli.

If there were 2 foods that I could chose to have permanently obliterated in some horrific scientific experiment, it would be pickles and broccoli.  Unless of course the accidental outcome of said scientific experiment was to add a nice chocolatey flavor to pickles and broccoli.  Then, by all means, give me a second helping.

For the record, I have a strong anti-pickling agenda.  The whole concept is just wrong.  It had a purpose before the advent of refrigeration, and our ancestors had to get creative preserving their harvest.  Now it’s just icky.

Now that is a great Threadless shirt.

My point is not to attack the pickling industry.  I find it is very interesting to observe these little nuances as my son develops.  Nature vs. nuture has always fascinated me.  I feel like we’re conducting our own little social experiment every day in our household.

How much of what our kids become is genetic, and how much of it is formed by environment?  I would love to believe that love conquers all, but I also know that is not always the case.  My son looks so much like our biological kid, it’s kinda frightening.  People comment on that ALL the time…”oh, he looks just like you!”  But I’ve also seen pictures of people and their pets who have slowly morphed into mirror images of each other.  Obviously we are not genetically related to our dogs (I hope anyway), and yet something in the environment of the household has started turning them into reflections of each other.

I suppose you could argue that we (and I mean people in general), being the megalomaniacs we are, adore ourselves and subconsciously seek to surround ourselves with other living beings that look like little mini-me’s.  

Anyway, it’s just really strange to look across the dining room table at my son.  Here’s my little mini-me, the apple of my eye, my heart and soul…EATING PICKLES!!!!!  It’s definitely a reminder that he’s his own person, and will develop his own tastes and talents.  I’ll present him with the tools and the options, and he will find his place. 

So yes, I will buy him the pickles and I will stink up my kitchen steaming the broccoli.  I won’t judge him because he doesn’t think bread and pasta is divinity here on Earth.  We’ll find common ground, and enjoy a bowl of berries together.

I’m in need of something comforting today.  It’s time for a warm, fuzzy story. 

Yesterday Hubby had oral surgery done.  Let’s just say his dental care up to this point has been erratic at best; combined with some hereditary teeth problems and WHAM!  He’s a toothy mess.

After his procedure was over, I took him home and stayed with him as he spent the day coming out of his anesthetic stupor.  I then went to school and picked up Kiddo to bring him home.  

On our way home during our typical after school conversation, Kiddo asked about Daddy.  He knew something was up because Daddy was with us when I dropped him off at school in the morning.  It went something like this:

“Where’s Daddy?  He pick-a-up me?”

“Daddy’s sick, pumpkin.  He had to go to the doctor today and now he has big boo-boo’s in his mouth.”

“Daddy sick?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t like it.  I fix him.”

“Ok!  Daddy would like that.  You fix him when we get home.”

After a few minutes, Kiddo would ask about Daddy again.  We’d have this same basic conversation again, and Kiddo would get all thoughtful.  

As soon as we walked in the door, Kiddo went looking for Daddy.  Daddy had fallen asleep in the chair, and Kiddo gently poked him.  He then climbed up next to Daddy to inspect his mouth.  

He was highly concerned about Daddy all night.  At one point, he went and got his doctor kit (a gift from Santa), and worked on fixing Daddy for a while with his doctor tools.  For good measure, he came over to fix a boo-boo on my knee, too.

At the end of the evening, Kiddo declared that Daddy was fixed, then proceeded to jump on his tummy.  

For an adoptive parent, these are really heartwarming moments.  Remember I’m an obsessive freak who’s always concerned about whether or not we’re properly bonded with our kiddo.  It’s times like these that put my mind at ease, at least for a little while.

I got a double bonus with Hubby’s surgical sacrifice.  Kiddo doesn’t much care for brushing his teeth.  I think he’s annoyed because he wants to do it himself, but doesn’t do a very good job, so I have to get in there and brush for him.  Now we can use Hubby’s bad teeth as an example of what happens when you don’t take care of your teeth.  I don’t know how much mileage we get out of it, but it was a little easier to brush Kiddo’s teeth last night.     

Kitty cat wants attention.  Bad.  He’s perched on one leg and my laptop on the other.  I didn’t know I was this good at balancing things!  Clearly he’s feeling neglected after our trip, and is looking at me with that special look of disgust that only cats do so well.  Cats have never been my favorite.  I’m more of a dog person.  Hubby is the cat person in our family.  Kiddo seems to be following in Daddy’s footsteps, as he announced on our way home today that he requires 2 kittys.  Oh joy.

So sticking to my resolution to write about what I should be writing about, I thought I would talk more about what to expect as a foster parent.  I have to remind you yet again that this experience was ours, and will differ depending on the infinite variables that might factor into yours.

Most likely you’ll be thinking that after everything you’ve been through up until this point (once the kiddo is home), now comes the easy part.  Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.  I can promise you that whatever challenges you have been through up until this point will PALE next to what you’ve got coming.  Remember, fostering ain’t for pansies.  

You might take custody of a child who has been in foster care for some time and is being transferred from another foster home or facility, or you might get a child who has just been removed from his bio home.  Regardless, chances are pretty good that there is still some amount of bio family involvement.

Remember what I said that the court is going to exhaust as many avenues as possible to reunite the child with a member of the bio family.  This isn’t just the parents, but includes grandparents, aunts, uncles, or possibly even other foster/adopt parents that may have already adopted a sibling.  You may take a child into your care, but DFACS is working hard at contacting every possible biological option.  This is where it’s important to keep communication going between you and your social workers.  They are busy people and sometimes “forget” to tell you something vital.  

DFACS will trust you with the care of this child, but technically they are still in custody of the child.  They are going to want regular status reports and updates on the child’s care and progress.  In our case, the social worker came to our house for a home visit every month.  These usually lasted about 30 minutes.  She set these up with us ahead of time, but we were told that a surprise visit would be possible.  She would talk with us to discuss anything that may have happened in the previous month, like illnesses or milestones that may have been reached.  She would lightly examine our kiddo to make sure he looked healthy, and she would walk around the house to make sure everything appeared safe.  These visits always made us nervous, but were always fairly painless.  I started to look forward to them, because this was the best time to get a chance to discuss Kiddo’s case with his social worker.  Reaching her by phone was always a challenge.

Until our adoption was finalized, all of Kiddo’s medical information was automatically forwarded to DFACS.  If we took him in for a check-up or to urgent care for a mild fever, DFACS was kept in the loop.  This never became a problem for us, but a good thing to keep in mind.  

Our kiddo was in physical therapy and speech therapy when he came into our care.  His therapists also kept DFACS in the loop on his progress.  These status reports are vital at court dates.

Depending on the involvement of members of the bio family, there will likely be visitation dates you need to bring the child to.  Let’s just say I HATED these.  In our case, Kiddo’s bio parents had a joint visit for 1 hour per week, and his bio grandfather had 3 hours every month.  It was my responsiblity to make sure I had Kiddo at the DFACS office at the agreed upon time, and was there to pick him up after they were over.  His visits with his bio parents were in the mid morning.  The social workers asked that I bring Kiddo in hungry and awake.  They wanted the bio parents to have the opportunity to feed and care for Kiddo, as he was an infant and other means of bonding are limited.  I think they hoped this would also promote some maternal or paternal instincts in the parents to try to convince them to get it together.  I would always travel with supplies like diapers and formula, but I was not to send any in with him.  It was bio parents’ responsiblity to bring the necessary items to care for Kiddo.

This was, well, interesting.  Most of the time they forgot, so a worker usually came running out to get something they needed from me.  When they did remember, the diapers were too small, or the formula they gave him made him sick.  

I should note that the visits with his bio parents were always supervised and always at the DFACS building.  The visits with his bio grandfather were unsupervised and he was allowed to take Kiddo off site where ever he wanted, so long as Kiddo was back at the agreed upon time.  

In our case, the agreed upon guideline for the visits was 3 strikes you’re out…meaning that if the bio parents missed 3 visits, the visitations would be cancelled.

It is not easy to pull up to DFACS, park, and wait for a worker to come out of the building to retrieve Kiddo.  Most of the time I would bring a book and just sit in the car and wait.  I just couldn’t bear to be too far away, in case something happened.  One time they brought him out early because the worker thought she saw lice on bio dad.  Another time he came out dressed in something different than what I sent him in, but stinking of cigarettes.  Yet another time he came out wearing a dirty and oversized hat.  I would smile with great strain at the worker, click that carrier in as fast as possible, and drive away as quickly as I dared.  

That’s enough reminisincing on the hard part for today.  Love Actually is on right now, and I’m getting a little distracted.  This really is a good movie, with almost all of my favorite actors and actresses.  Good night for now, and more to come.

Happy Monday!!  Isn’t it great to be back to the weekly routine??  The holidays tend to throw such a wrench in that.  As fun as the holidays are, it is kinda nice to be back to normal.  Except for the traffic.  I soooooo enjoyed my commute time cut in half as most of the working force took the past 2 weeks off.  Today they were all back on the road with a vengeance.  I was almost hit no less than 4 times on my way home tonight.  Whew!!!

For a variety of reasons I won’t bore you with, my son’s daycare is about half way between our house and my work downtown.  It’s about 23 miles one way.  On average, including drop off/pick up time, it takes me an hour each way.  That gives me about 30 minutes in the car with my son.  We try to have some fun during this part of the drive after I pick him up, but sometimes he’s just tired and cranky and there is nothing you can do about it.

I’ve had to get a little creative thinking of new ways to keep him entertained, and to keep my sanity.  There is nothing worse than a long hard day, a frustrating commute, and a very cranky toddler in the back rocket seat whining and fussing.  One of my more successful tactics is music.

Music is VERY important in my house.  I’m a little obsessed with it, and even tinker with piano playing every now and then (time…it’s always about finding the time).  I like almost every genre, except for country.  Well, I like classic country, like Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson.  Not that new Garth Brooks crap.  Never fear, Hubby is a country fan, so even that genre is covered when it comes time to play a tune.  I have spent disgusting amounts of money on iTunes, and my iPod is probably my most precious possession.  I believe there is a tune for every mood and every occasion, and it’s important to me to impart my love and appreciation of music to my son.  

This has become especially true since my son started at his daycare this past summer.  For some reason, they feel the need to play this horrid, high pitched, tinky toy piano music that makes my ears bleed.  It’s like that Baby Einstein annoying kazoo music.  I suppose there is some study out there that says a small child’s brain development is some how sped up with this pathetic excuse for melody.  I refuse to believe that is true.  In fact, if I ever win the lottery, I am going to put forward a large sum to start a study of my own to prove that this type of dink-dink music is nothing more than Disney trying to brainwash our kids.  Not only is this music on constantly at my son’s school, but they feel the need to keep the volume cranked at small roar.  It’s terrifying.

I have taken it upon myself to educate my son on real music, with real emotion and feeling.  I’m happy to report that my counter-attack against the Disney machine seems to be working.  I sing to him A LOT, so even when the iPod isn’t playing, I can fill his head with quality stuff and force out the mush.

Our repertoire varies.  I have a variety of playlists set up just for him, from bedtime mix (lots of Vivaldi and Mozart), to smooth hits for mellowing out (kiddo LOVES big band music), to wake-up music (more classical, but Classical and Romantic era composers like Beethoven, Chopin, and Listz), to playtime music.  We range from Gregorian Chant, to Baroque, to modern hits in almost all of our lists.  We have instrumentals, a cappellas, symphonies, quartets, piano solos, metal guitar riffs, and even a little rap music.  Our drive home is time for playtime music.  These are fun songs he and I can both enjoy.

You can’t even imagine how tickled I was when he started singing along.  I think it’s just the cutest thing that he knows lyrics, and he even makes requests.  I feel like this is one of the first big things where we have really connected, just between him and me.  He says “spider, Mommy,” and I know he wants to sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider.  Only I can pick up the tune when he starts to sing London Bridges.  Music has been a major part of my life as long as I can remember, and Hubby has a more casual relationship with it.  I sometimes feel like it’s just Kiddo’s and my secret code, and I love it!

So I thought I would post our own personal playlist, just like celebrities do on iTunes.  These are our playtime hits, and what we enjoy singing along to on our way home each day.

1.) Real Gone, by Sheryl Crow, from the Cars soundtrack (Kiddo’s favorite movie)

2.) Our Town, by James Taylor, from the Cars soundtrack (see above)

3.) Life is a Highway, by Rascal Flats, from the Cars soundtrack (see above, not my fav version, but he likes it)

4.) Jump in the Line, by Harry Belafonte (as Kiddo would say, this is “shake a booty” music)

5.) Day-O (The Banana Boat Song), by Harry Belafonte (great for sing alongs)

6.)  Lullaby in Ragtime, by John C. Reilly (this is on our bedtime mix, but he LOVES this song.  We slow it down a bit and sing along.  It’s a very good song, and if you’ve seen Chicago, you know the guy has some pipes.  He’s got real talent, and I can’t understand why he keeps throwing his career away with Will Ferrell movies)

7.)  Wee Wee, Pee Pee, Tinkle, by the Wonder Pets (yes I know.  I said no goofy kids music.  But we’re potty training, and my son thinks this song is silly.  It’s also fun to sing “Wee Weeeeeeee, Pee Peeeeeeeee, TINKLE!”)

8.) Ninja Rap, by Vanilla Ice (Old school kid friendly rap, from the live action Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle movie)

9.)  Peanut Butter Jelly Time, by Chip-Man and the Buckwheat Boyz (what kid doesn’t love this song)

10.) I’m My Own Grandpa, by Willie Nelson (I dare you to listen to this song and not smile)

11.) I Like to Move It, by will.i.am (from the Madagascar movie.  We like this version cause it’s a little more mellow with a reggae sound.  Other versions are too dance club for us)

Those are our favorites for our ride home.  We have a variety of others, mostly old school classic hits like Yakkety Yak, Wooly Bully, Surfin’ Bird, Splish Splash, The Bunny Hop, etc.  But those I listed above are the ones that really make my son smile.  Even on his grumpiest days, a little Wee Wee, Pee Pee or some Real Gone will guarantee me at least a little grin.

I just downloaded some Van Morrison.  I bet he likes this song.  He surprised me today.  He liked Madeleine Peyroux, even though it was in French, so he’s got an open mind and up for anything!

Just remember, music tames even the most savage toddler….er…beast.