Amateur Extortionist

In many cases, the result of placing children in out-of-home care against their will (albeit for their own protection) is their need to control and manipulate. Their lives feel so out-of-control that they need to control whatever they can. Toileting and eating issues are common. Lying, stealing, triangulating, tantrums and defiance come with the territory.

For 6 1/2 years (with over 300 foster kids in our homes) we have had kids try to gain control by threatening us and other children in the home. Threatening self-harm. Physically and verbally attacking us. "Trashing" our house. Stealing and destroying property. Posturing. Lying. Making allegations. Refusing to eat. Eating until they vomit. Refusing to use the toilet. Urinating on the carpet, furniture, other people's belongings. Running away. Refusing to buckle seatbelts. Unbuckling seatbelts (their own and others) and carseats while the car is in motion. Shoes have even been used to control situations quite often. Who would have thought?

Sparky and Drama Boy have taken control to a new level, announcing their intentions: "If you don't let me do this, I'm going to be bad." or "Since you didn't let me go to my friends house, I'm going to be bad all day since I'm not supposed to be here today." and "We're going to act bad until you send us somewhere else."

And my all-time favorite: Sparky had a particularly difficult morning, becoming hostile and verbally abusive, throwing his belongings into the hallway. A little while later, in a calm moment, he asked if he could go to his friend's house to spend the night. I asked him why I should let him go. His reply? "Because I'm being bad and if I go to my friend's house you'll be able to get rid of me and when I come home, I'll be happy again."

Planet Make-No-Sense

I've been informed by Peaches that "I'm losing it" because I haven't written anything funny lately. Sorry, but I can't figure out how to blog her designed-by-fruit-punch-hooters-tshirt. Let me just say, WAY too much ice in the cup.

Moving on...

It started out to be a pleasant afternoon as afternoons in our house go. The girls had a neighbor friend over. Everyone was doing their respective things. The boys were helping barbecue hamburgers. Then Lucky found that someone had written on a letter that she was working on for her mom, finishing an unfinished sentence with "...because I hate you, fat lard".

Lucky immediately blamed Drama Boy who has been pretty hateful in addition to pulling pranks like leaving Lucky's swimsuit in the toilet. Drama Boy immediately began crying and wailing that he had not done it. Lucky produced the evidence. It was evident that it had been written by someone who wrote more neatly and more girly than DB usually does.

He continued to make his case saying that if he had written it he would have used more swear words. Great. Thanks for the tip-off for next time.

We managed to get through dinner and then the incident was brought up again. Drama Boy started up again with the whining and denying and explaining. Ana told him "We're not going to talk about it any more because I believe you."

Well, you'd think that would be the end of it. But no, because we live in some sort of distorted parallel backwards and upside down universe. Therefore, to Drama Boy it was his cue to really turn on the waterworks, this time because he didn't believe Ana that she believed him. He carried on and cried for a good nine and a half minutes about how no one ever lets him say anything.

Yeah. I know. Bizarre. There must be some kind of portal back to reality somewhere around here.

My Starfish

One of the best things in my life. The reason I do what I do.

Daughter of my heart, I love you forever.

Ana and "Stickers"

(check out her talent on our artsy blog)

Them's Fightin' Words

Josh McDowell says, "Rules without relationship lead to rebellion."

Of course, it makes perfect sense.

How then, do you enforce any appropriate standard of conduct and behavior for older, unattached children who absolutely refuse relationships? These are children who curse, scream, cry, throw, slam, and break things if you even imply some kind of close connection to them. They think any time they are corrected we are "yelling at them". They shout their hate and cry abuse any time they are made to follow rules they don't like.

While the girls and little boys readily use family words like "sister", "brother", "cousin", "aunt" and sometimes even "mom" for their foster/adoptive family (us), the bigger boys bristle at the very idea. It's as if they feel disloyal to their original family if they allow anyone else in. That's fine. The labels don't matter so much. We let them call us by our first names, but we still use the word "family" to describe the whole, disorderly bunch of us.

They particularly detest The Boss (which is a common thread among our most troubled kids and even our more normal kids often resent him too) since he has been here since birth and is viewed as favored and spoiled because of it. Interestingly, they often ask if he knows he's adopted (yes) and for a while Drama Boy was making an issue that I was not REALLY his mom and where is his REAL mom and are you going to even tell him you're not his REAL mom? Whatever. I'm not that insecure, buddy, but nice try.

An issue today with The Boss knocking over the boys' clean laundry which had been folded and piled high outside their door for a few days, exploded into Drama Boy yelling at him then crying and wailing that they "always get in trouble and no one else does" and Sparky running around in his boxers shrieking and shouting, which was his show of moral support for Drama Boy (as DB said, "We stick up for each other").

Their view continues to be "them against us" and they rebel against anything and everyone else.

Working the Plan

Drama Boy and Sparky came back from a visit to grandma's house with a plan.

The plan is, of course, to get themselves removed from here which they (mistakenly) believe will result in them being returned to their mom. They are attacking on multiple fronts. Tactic A is to behave so badly that we will say they need to go so they will get moved. Tactic B is to behave badly hoping we will over-react and they can cry abuse so they will get moved. Tactic C is to behave badly AND cry abuse no matter how we react so they will get moved.

It's not a covert operation. They have both admitted to it. They are good at what they do.

Interesting, maddening, and pitiful all at the same time.

House of Loud

Lower your voice. Use your indoor voice. Use a quiet voice. Stop whining, use your words. Be still. Stop drumming, banging, kicking, stomping, tapping. Don't slurp, smack your lips, crack your knuckles, whistle in the car, scream in my ear. Stop talking, complaining, begging, shrieking, baby-talking, tattling, yelling, screaming, crying. No more barking, squeaking, baying, cackling. That's not a polite word, don't use it again. You already asked me that...asked and answered...please don't ask me again. I've already heard this story, joke. Okay, I'll hear it again. I might want to see that movie, don't spoil the ending for me....too late. Turn down your radio, movie, video game, amp. The point of headphones is so the rest of us don't have to listen to your iPod. I can still hear it. I can STILL hear it.

Pointless words. Wasted breath.
Thanks for listening.

That is, if you could even hear me.

That Was Random

The Boss: "Auntie, I think the trees are like boys and girls (pronounced 'grills')."

Me: "Oh, really?"

The Boss: "Yeah, I think they are laughing at me."

Me: "Why would they laugh at you?"

The Boss: "Because they are."

Well, that explains it.

What We Say vs. What They Hear

Overheard at the beach--

Small boy to woman walking large dog: What kind of dog is that?

Woman: A labrador.

Small boy to other small boy: Did you hear that? She said her dog was a hamburger!
________________________

While riding in the car with The Boss--

The Boss (pointing to car in next lane): Is that a Mustang?

Me: No.

The Boss: What is it, then?

Me: I think it's a Honda.

The Boss: A corndog?

Life in the Key of P

I feel like a live in the house of pee. Finally done with changing diapers, I still can't escape it.

In the middle of night, the Boss (in my bed of course) woke hollering "The pee is coming up." Sure 'nuff. Huge wet spot on my bed. Normally The Boss stays dry all night but last night he needed to go potty and was too afraid to get out of bed (my bed of course) to go even though I was in the room, the bathroom is in the room, and all the lights were on. In my mostly snoozy state I told him "Just get up and GO!" but did not see to it that he did. See, kids? Logical consequences apply to moms too.

Sometimes a failed race to make sure the dogs get out before it's absolutely necessary, it's been a week of it. Johnny Cash peed on The Boss' jacket. That's new. Cooper peed in my bathroom. Sodapop peed in the little boys' room.

Someone had a full-bladdered accident and then left a trail of wet clothes down the hall. I stepped on a pair of sodden socks. Yucko.

One of the kids suffers from frequent bladder control accidents and, while improved, has been setting out a hamper full of stinky, wet clothes each week.

Drama Boy and Sparky pee on each others beds for fun and revenge.

How can we have so much pee outside the bathroom and not a single jellyfish sting to show for it?

Maybe It's the Heat

We've been getting beat up by crazy emotions around here. It's somewhat disheartening to be repeatedly reminded that, just when everyone seems stable, the mixed-up emotional load is only lying dormant ready to explode at the next trigger. We've had some doozies the past couple days.

Very encouraging however is Squeaker's continued progress which is actually being noticed by others. Maybe getting to finalize her adoption at last, especially with so much family here showing support, has given her the added security she needed to begin acting like a "normal" person. Whatever it is, we'll take it.

Hey You

As mentioned in a previous post, our entire family was out visiting this month. That included our parents from Washington D.C., brother and his wife and two young children from Maryland, brother and his wife from Texas and our local family, sister and her husband and four teen to 20's kids. Our own kids have surprised us by maintaining pretty good behavior throughout with just two meltdown days for the big boys. Squeaker was the only one with no problems at all. She was polite, helpful, and appropriate the entire time which has never happened during a family visit before.

Drama Boy has been a bit of an avoider because he didn't want to address anybody as Aunt, Uncle, Grandma, Grandpa. We told all the kids that they needed to use these titles followed by a first name. If they did not feel comfortable doing that they had the option of calling adults Mr. or Mrs. Adult cousins may still be addressed by first name only.

Many foster children get very used to calling adults by their first name only (after a succession of foster parents, social workers, attorneys, rehab workers, therapists, etc...) and it frequently crosses the line to disrespect or "buddy" interactions with those who are not their peers. Although we do allow our kids to call us by our first names, we often have to remind them that we are not their schoolyard buddies and they do need to maintain an appropriate tone and we have regular "I'm the adult and you are the child" conversations when they wail that it is NOT FAIR that we get to do something they that they don't (like stay up later, watch certain movies, or, God forbid, have a Starbucks or soda while they are in school).

Sparky and Lucky had no problem with this rule and of course Squeaker's adoption made her eager to do so. Drama Boy decided to avoid the discomfort this caused him by not addressing any adult by name the entire visit. Because of this he did not spend a lot of time with the adult members of our family.

Unfortunately that meant that some of the interactions forced upon the group were not all that positive. Adults and older cousins stepped in a few times to correct some unruly, rude behavior. We had a few situations in which Sparky flat-out defied several adults and refused to comply with instructions. Drama Boy sat on the floor and wailed when redirected or corrected. Because they are constantly fighting having relationships with a family that is not their own they feel picked on and persecuted when asked to follow very basic rules of conduct.

Our family was very understanding although they are generally not used to children whose first reaction is always to refuse, avoid, rebel, and disobey.

Adoption Day

It was a long journey but we made it! Finally the end....and the beginning.

With a special request made by our adoption workers, Squeaker's finalization date fell during a "reunion" with family visiting from Washington D.C., Maryland, and Texas. Including our in town family, Squeaker had grandma and grandpa, four aunts, three uncles, eight cousins, nephew, and little brother there for her special day. Big sister Peaches and her oldest cousin were unable to attend.

Cold Feet

Tomorrow I will go to court to finalize Squeaker's adoption. She has lived with me for just over three years and we've been slowly working our way towards adoption for the last two.

Always dramatically emotional, whether real or put on, she was rude and snarky on Monday when assigned a chore. I finally had to get right in her face and tell her to choose between self-control and bedtime because I'd had enough. She chose wisely.

She attributed her moodiness to being "confused" over whether she really wanted to be adopted. This is a recurring theme and felt a little put on to me this time. Instead of getting into a big drawn out ordeal, I told her that sometimes before weddings or other major, life-chainging events people get "cold feet". Of course, it almost turned into a big drawn out ordeal since I had to explain what that meant and she had to keep interrupting with more rehashing to which I kept repeating "It's normal". I don't mean to minimize how life-altering adoption is for older kids, but she just loves the drama and will keep at it or manufacture it when none is to be found.

When she was placed with me it was to be for six months (after living one year in a group home since she first entered foster care) and at that point she was to be reunified with her birth mom. When six months rolled around she finally got up the nerve to tell her social worker that she was afraid to live with her birth mom. After farming her out for trial visits to several relatives who freaked out at her bizarre behavior, lying, stealing, temper outbursts, poor hygiene and a myriad of other concerns, I asked to be considered as an adoptive placement for her.

It has been a wild rollercoaster since then. I slowed down the process several times as we attempted to stabilize her behavior and get a correct diagnosis and appropriate meds. We considered placing her somewhere else temporarily in order to keep her and the other kids in the home safe from her impulsive, destructive, angry behavior.

After several disastrous misses on diagnosis and medications, someone figured it out (bipolar disorder) got her on the right meds. Things have been much better since.

She's certainly one of a kind and, drama and all, tomorrow she'll be mine for keeps.