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.