S has returned to her mother.
The "transition" was as non-transitional as I had feared. I got a call one day saying that the caseworker was requesting permission from the judge to send her home in about two weeks.
I didn't give S that date as a return date. I chose to wait until we heard from the judge lest the answer be no -- there was a sizable chance the judge would require an appearance in court. Let's say that return date was July 25th.
On the afternoon of 24th, I called the caseworker. I left her messages every where, asking where we stood on the reunification date -- was it "tomorrow"?
I got a call back on the 25th. She was to be returned on the 28th . . . in 3 days.
There would be no more visits before that return date.
So, it was, in fact, "this time you won't come back here from Mommy's house."
I'm not sure she understood. She reacted very calmly to being told it was going to happen. She asked occasionally how many more days until The Day. Once or twice she talked about "when she comes back here" and I had to gently reiterate that she wouldn't be. She reacted very calmly to packing up everything she owned and loading it in the car. She got a little clingy at the actual hand-off -- lots of hugs and kisses good bye, and she wanted me to strap her into her car seat.
Her mother and I hugged each other and smiled a lot. Her mother said she wants us to keep in touch. Her grandmother was there too, and she said the same. S rode off in the car with her grandmother -- because it was the vehicle with room for her carseat after all her things had been loaded. Grandmother stopped the car and rolled the windows down to tell me that S was saying she loved me.
Her mother has worked hard on her case plan and has done everything required of her to get her child back. I hope and pray that the changes she has made in her life are long-lasting ones. I believe that her mother will encourage her to keep the photo album we made for her for as long as she wants it. I don't know how much contact we really will maintain -- we live about an hour apart -- but I appreciate the offer and the care for S's mental health that prompted it.
It's been a few days now since we filled the van with S's things and drove off, returning with an empty vehicle. Her room is empty. We are slowly beginning again to refer to it by its wall color, instead of as "S's room." (This is requiring conscious effort on our part right now, but we believe it's better to change the name of the room now and get used to it, than risk slipping and calling that bedroom "S's room" when the next placement comes and has moved into it.)
As far as when that next placement will come, I've told the agency to give me several weeks. Last time we sent a long-term placement home, we said we would take a break, but really only took about 2 weeks. I need more time than that.
The Originals will start school soon -- we are buying school supplies, getting hair cuts, going to doctor's appointments, and getting ready to meet teachers. We will get the new school year under way and I will spend some time on projects around the house. When the Originals have been in school for about a month, then I will consider taking another placement.
Unless that turns out to be one of those Famous Last Words....
Showing posts with label S. Show all posts
Showing posts with label S. Show all posts
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Foster Care Sucks
We are very close to S's return to her mother. I believe that is the right conclusion to this case and I support it wholeheartedly. Well, mostly wholeheartedly.
The transition "plan" is fuzzy. She is currently spending a few nights a week with her mother -- her father is still on supervised visitation. That's not the problem -- the parents aren't "together." The problem is that there is no set date planned for the actual final return. It's just "we'll do this for a while and then submit a petition to reunify early next month."
That doesn't work well for a 4 year old.
I've asked for a target date.
I've explained that it really helps S when we can mark big days on the calendar, so she can watch them get closer as we mark off days at bedtime. I've even explained that she does OK when the date changes a little bit, but I really need a date to work with. (As in, we could manage it if we'd told her it would be August 12th and found out on the 8th that it would actually be the 14th. Or the 10th.)
I still don't have a date. I have a vague "before school starts."
This isn't a transition. Not for the child, at least. At this rate, from her perspective, we will go from "you're spending a couple of nights a week at Mommy's" to "this time you don't ever come back" with no notice.
I am beginning to talk about "soon" to her.
Last week, she melted down and told me that Mommy's house is not "safe." She told me a story of seeing a man living there hitting Mommy. I nearly crashed the car, thinking I'd been advocating all this time for her to return to a dangerous living environment.
She is, however, 4. And I know that her sense of elapsed time is not very strong. So, it was hard to tell whether this had happened during a recent visit or some time in the past. Of course, I documented it by sending a description of the conversation off to the caseworker. About a day later, the caseworker called me to let me know she had looked into it -- S had a name for the man, which I'm sure helped -- and the man in question is incarcerated, has been since before S came into care, and will be for years to come. Big sigh of relief. She may be remembering past trauma that happened in that house, but at least we really aren't sending her back into an unsafe place.
Today, she melted down again. She told me that the only things that are ever on Mommy's TV are scary and that she doesn't want to go back there. She wants to stay here.
I don't know how to help her with that. I can't. I held her and rocked her and told her I was sorry. I told her we loved her and we were glad she liked it here, but that Mommy loves her too. I told her it's OK to tell a grown-up something is too scary for her to watch and then to leave the room so she doesn't have to see it.
The reality is that it's been nearly a year -- a quarter of her life. Our house is home to her now. We are the stable, loving family that she thinks of as "hers" and Mommy is someone she sees and plays with on a regular basis.
I think we've successfully taught her that WE will keep her safe and cared for. That OUR boundaries are firm and reliable. But she is struggling -- oh, so much -- to believe any of that is true in the home to which she is returning. And I can't promise that it is. I believe her mother loves her enormously. I believe she will go to the ends of the earth to TRY to care for her. But I am not under any illusion that the structure and routine that we have built that helps S thrive will be continued. I doubt that there will be monitoring of television and radio content to ensure that it is appropriate for little ears and eyes. (This is a parent that has claimed more than once that the child's favorite movie is Coraline. This same child who was too scared to watch all of The Little Mermaid at my house.)
None of that is a reason not to reunify. It just sucks.
The transition "plan" is fuzzy. She is currently spending a few nights a week with her mother -- her father is still on supervised visitation. That's not the problem -- the parents aren't "together." The problem is that there is no set date planned for the actual final return. It's just "we'll do this for a while and then submit a petition to reunify early next month."
That doesn't work well for a 4 year old.
I've asked for a target date.
I've explained that it really helps S when we can mark big days on the calendar, so she can watch them get closer as we mark off days at bedtime. I've even explained that she does OK when the date changes a little bit, but I really need a date to work with. (As in, we could manage it if we'd told her it would be August 12th and found out on the 8th that it would actually be the 14th. Or the 10th.)
I still don't have a date. I have a vague "before school starts."
This isn't a transition. Not for the child, at least. At this rate, from her perspective, we will go from "you're spending a couple of nights a week at Mommy's" to "this time you don't ever come back" with no notice.
I am beginning to talk about "soon" to her.
Last week, she melted down and told me that Mommy's house is not "safe." She told me a story of seeing a man living there hitting Mommy. I nearly crashed the car, thinking I'd been advocating all this time for her to return to a dangerous living environment.
She is, however, 4. And I know that her sense of elapsed time is not very strong. So, it was hard to tell whether this had happened during a recent visit or some time in the past. Of course, I documented it by sending a description of the conversation off to the caseworker. About a day later, the caseworker called me to let me know she had looked into it -- S had a name for the man, which I'm sure helped -- and the man in question is incarcerated, has been since before S came into care, and will be for years to come. Big sigh of relief. She may be remembering past trauma that happened in that house, but at least we really aren't sending her back into an unsafe place.
Today, she melted down again. She told me that the only things that are ever on Mommy's TV are scary and that she doesn't want to go back there. She wants to stay here.
I don't know how to help her with that. I can't. I held her and rocked her and told her I was sorry. I told her we loved her and we were glad she liked it here, but that Mommy loves her too. I told her it's OK to tell a grown-up something is too scary for her to watch and then to leave the room so she doesn't have to see it.
The reality is that it's been nearly a year -- a quarter of her life. Our house is home to her now. We are the stable, loving family that she thinks of as "hers" and Mommy is someone she sees and plays with on a regular basis.
I think we've successfully taught her that WE will keep her safe and cared for. That OUR boundaries are firm and reliable. But she is struggling -- oh, so much -- to believe any of that is true in the home to which she is returning. And I can't promise that it is. I believe her mother loves her enormously. I believe she will go to the ends of the earth to TRY to care for her. But I am not under any illusion that the structure and routine that we have built that helps S thrive will be continued. I doubt that there will be monitoring of television and radio content to ensure that it is appropriate for little ears and eyes. (This is a parent that has claimed more than once that the child's favorite movie is Coraline. This same child who was too scared to watch all of The Little Mermaid at my house.)
None of that is a reason not to reunify. It just sucks.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Medical Paperwork Fun
S needed some dental work done. She was terrified of the first dentist, who first put off doing the work for 6 months (in a vain hope that she would be better able to sit still for them by then), then said they would have to sedate her to get the work done and ultimately waited until I called them to follow up on the appointment call I was supposed to have gotten to tell me that they wouldn't actually do that work themselves.
So, I found her a new dentist.
I love this new dentist so much I have switched my biological children to this new practice. (Their previous pediatric dentist doesn't accept Medicaid.) They have been incredible. Patient, loving, calm, composed, understanding, reasonable, warm.
But the biggest moment for me was actually something the front office staff did.
My agency requires me to get a specific form filled out at every medical visit. I've been told (by county caseworkers and by medical staff at a number of different places) that they are the only agency that does this. These same people have also told me that they wish more agencies did something like this. It's a simple form. It just lists the office's contact information (name, address, phone, fax), the child's name and birthdate and then has about 5 short questions. Essentially, it's a list of the purpose of the visit, what diagnosis (if any) there is, whether a follow up is needed, and any post-visit procedures that should be followed. The form has my agency's name in big letters at the top of the page. And my agency's name is something along the lines of "Agency Foster Care," so it's pretty clear from the form what the purpose is.
I always offer the form to the front office staff, and they generally look at it like I'm insane and end up having me hand it to the doctor in the actual exam room. Sometimes the nurse or front office person will take it, but they make me say multiple times that I need this filled out because the child is in foster care. Usually in the waiting room. Possibly surrounded by other patients and their families.
At this pediatric dentist, I finally, FINALLY got something that felt like a professional reaction. It was clear she'd never seen the form before, but she took it, glanced over it, and turned to the hygienist who was going to be seeing S. Her head was now turned in such a way that I could just see the side of her face and the only other people who could see her face were staff. She held the form up so the hygienist could see it and said, "she needs this filled out" and mouthed "foster care."
It's amazing how little things like that can make such a huge difference in my comfort level.
So, I found her a new dentist.
I love this new dentist so much I have switched my biological children to this new practice. (Their previous pediatric dentist doesn't accept Medicaid.) They have been incredible. Patient, loving, calm, composed, understanding, reasonable, warm.
But the biggest moment for me was actually something the front office staff did.
My agency requires me to get a specific form filled out at every medical visit. I've been told (by county caseworkers and by medical staff at a number of different places) that they are the only agency that does this. These same people have also told me that they wish more agencies did something like this. It's a simple form. It just lists the office's contact information (name, address, phone, fax), the child's name and birthdate and then has about 5 short questions. Essentially, it's a list of the purpose of the visit, what diagnosis (if any) there is, whether a follow up is needed, and any post-visit procedures that should be followed. The form has my agency's name in big letters at the top of the page. And my agency's name is something along the lines of "Agency Foster Care," so it's pretty clear from the form what the purpose is.
I always offer the form to the front office staff, and they generally look at it like I'm insane and end up having me hand it to the doctor in the actual exam room. Sometimes the nurse or front office person will take it, but they make me say multiple times that I need this filled out because the child is in foster care. Usually in the waiting room. Possibly surrounded by other patients and their families.
At this pediatric dentist, I finally, FINALLY got something that felt like a professional reaction. It was clear she'd never seen the form before, but she took it, glanced over it, and turned to the hygienist who was going to be seeing S. Her head was now turned in such a way that I could just see the side of her face and the only other people who could see her face were staff. She held the form up so the hygienist could see it and said, "she needs this filled out" and mouthed "foster care."
It's amazing how little things like that can make such a huge difference in my comfort level.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Sigh.
Just when I thought I couldn't be more surprised with how completely messed up this case is.
S's mother is very close to being approved for overnight visits, as part of the plan to begin to transition her home. Yay!
The caseworker is filling out paperwork to submit to the judge to request that change. She said that "it's better" if she can include statements of support from as many different people involved in the case as possible. (I heard that "it's better" as "the more of these I have, the more likely the decision is a quick one.") OK. So, she's got my support, her own, bio mom's, and the CASA's....and she's waiting on one from S's GAL.
That's sounds fine, right?
Except when you know that this is the first I have heard of the existence of S's GAL.
Almost 11 months into the case.
S has an attorney representing her in court that is someone I have never met and who has made no attempt to have any sort of contact with the child he or she (I don't even know which!) is supposedly representing. (And I've been to court, by the way. Always accompanied by S. So it's not like there hasn't been an opportunity to meet me or has been an opportunity to meet S that I might not know about.)
And I thought the CASA -- who I've seen about 3 times -- was bad. At least I know her name.
S's mother is very close to being approved for overnight visits, as part of the plan to begin to transition her home. Yay!
The caseworker is filling out paperwork to submit to the judge to request that change. She said that "it's better" if she can include statements of support from as many different people involved in the case as possible. (I heard that "it's better" as "the more of these I have, the more likely the decision is a quick one.") OK. So, she's got my support, her own, bio mom's, and the CASA's....and she's waiting on one from S's GAL.
That's sounds fine, right?
Except when you know that this is the first I have heard of the existence of S's GAL.
Almost 11 months into the case.
S has an attorney representing her in court that is someone I have never met and who has made no attempt to have any sort of contact with the child he or she (I don't even know which!) is supposedly representing. (And I've been to court, by the way. Always accompanied by S. So it's not like there hasn't been an opportunity to meet me or has been an opportunity to meet S that I might not know about.)
And I thought the CASA -- who I've seen about 3 times -- was bad. At least I know her name.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Stealth Evangelism
Disclaimer: I'm a Christian foster parent. If you don't want to read about my struggles with some aspects of my faith, skip this one. If you do read and feel compelled to comment, please be kind. :)
I've always had a difficult time with evangelism in the sense of converting others to Christianity. I know the scripture verses -- "Go and make all disciples", "No one may enter the kingdom of God, except through (Jesus)" -- but when it comes to actually approaching someone who is not a believer and attempting to convince them to change their minds about that? Really not comfortable with doing anything along those lines.
Part of this I blame on the Southern Baptists of my childhood, whose idea of evangelism was to passionately proclaim that those of us who did not attend their church were all doomed to eternal torment. (I wasn't Baptist, but I was raised Christian. I thought the evangelical Christians of my high school were misguided and offensive....especially when I saw how they interacted with friends of mine who were Jewish or Muslim.) Another part if it is simply me shrinking from the logical result of the whole process, since that might require me to attempt to convert several of my own close family members. Family members who have always treated our difference of opinion when it comes to faith with tolerance and respect. Family members who have never attempted to convince me that I am wrong and should agree with them. I struggle to believe that I am called to be the one to shatter that family harmony.
So, I don't evangelize. I rationalize this pretty well and, on a certain level, I believe that my rationalizations have merit. It is not "honoring my father and mother" to treat them with less tolerance and respect than they treat me. I spread the gospel by living what I believe, not by talking about it. I behave in ways that I hope puts a positive light on "what Christians do." I raise my children in the church... and I mean, really, in the church. We are involved in all sorts of small groups and mission projects and fellowship activities and Bible studies. And our children are aware that our motivation for becoming a foster family is rooted in a belief that we are called by God to do so.
I realized recently, however, that foster care has led me into a type of evangelism that would never occur to me otherwise. As a foster parent, I am raising other people's children. And I am raising them in the church as well. (Aside: We foster through a faith-based agency. When counties place children in my home, they know they are getting a Christian family that is actively involved in a church community. This is one of the reasons we chose to foster through this agency -- they just aren't going to send me a child who is actively participating in a different faith, although they will send me children with no faith background at all.) We have always discussed our faith with children in terms of "what we believe" and "at our church, we do this".
S was recently given a children's Bible. She actually already had one, but she loves both of them. She "reads" them over and over. She picks them for bedtime stories almost every night. She has talked about her Bibles to her parents.
When this child came to us, she knew nothing about God or Jesus. As far as we can tell, she had never attended church. Her mother was not opposed to our teaching her about the Christian faith -- when S asked her mother if she went to church, she mumbled something about "needing to get back to that" -- but it was not a part of their lives.
10 months later, S talks about what she has learned in church. When she sees a cross, she talks about Jesus dying and coming back to life. She knows that Jesus lives in her heart and in the hearts of others. Someone asked her teasingly one day why she was so pretty; she replied calmly that it was just how God made her. She watches VeggieTales and she loves to go to church.
Soon (I hope), I will be sending this 3 year old girl back to her mother. The child that I am sending back is certain that God loves her. She is equally certain that He loves everyone else, too. The child I am sending back is likely to ask her mother about "her church" and to pressure her to find them a church home. (I'm under no illusion that this is going to be the norm. But S is one determined little person.)
It's almost like I'm sending in a little stealth evangelist to convert her mother. That's a form of evangelism I can be comfortable with. Even if does seem a little sneaky.
I've always had a difficult time with evangelism in the sense of converting others to Christianity. I know the scripture verses -- "Go and make all disciples", "No one may enter the kingdom of God, except through (Jesus)" -- but when it comes to actually approaching someone who is not a believer and attempting to convince them to change their minds about that? Really not comfortable with doing anything along those lines.
Part of this I blame on the Southern Baptists of my childhood, whose idea of evangelism was to passionately proclaim that those of us who did not attend their church were all doomed to eternal torment. (I wasn't Baptist, but I was raised Christian. I thought the evangelical Christians of my high school were misguided and offensive....especially when I saw how they interacted with friends of mine who were Jewish or Muslim.) Another part if it is simply me shrinking from the logical result of the whole process, since that might require me to attempt to convert several of my own close family members. Family members who have always treated our difference of opinion when it comes to faith with tolerance and respect. Family members who have never attempted to convince me that I am wrong and should agree with them. I struggle to believe that I am called to be the one to shatter that family harmony.
So, I don't evangelize. I rationalize this pretty well and, on a certain level, I believe that my rationalizations have merit. It is not "honoring my father and mother" to treat them with less tolerance and respect than they treat me. I spread the gospel by living what I believe, not by talking about it. I behave in ways that I hope puts a positive light on "what Christians do." I raise my children in the church... and I mean, really, in the church. We are involved in all sorts of small groups and mission projects and fellowship activities and Bible studies. And our children are aware that our motivation for becoming a foster family is rooted in a belief that we are called by God to do so.
I realized recently, however, that foster care has led me into a type of evangelism that would never occur to me otherwise. As a foster parent, I am raising other people's children. And I am raising them in the church as well. (Aside: We foster through a faith-based agency. When counties place children in my home, they know they are getting a Christian family that is actively involved in a church community. This is one of the reasons we chose to foster through this agency -- they just aren't going to send me a child who is actively participating in a different faith, although they will send me children with no faith background at all.) We have always discussed our faith with children in terms of "what we believe" and "at our church, we do this".
S was recently given a children's Bible. She actually already had one, but she loves both of them. She "reads" them over and over. She picks them for bedtime stories almost every night. She has talked about her Bibles to her parents.
When this child came to us, she knew nothing about God or Jesus. As far as we can tell, she had never attended church. Her mother was not opposed to our teaching her about the Christian faith -- when S asked her mother if she went to church, she mumbled something about "needing to get back to that" -- but it was not a part of their lives.
10 months later, S talks about what she has learned in church. When she sees a cross, she talks about Jesus dying and coming back to life. She knows that Jesus lives in her heart and in the hearts of others. Someone asked her teasingly one day why she was so pretty; she replied calmly that it was just how God made her. She watches VeggieTales and she loves to go to church.
Soon (I hope), I will be sending this 3 year old girl back to her mother. The child that I am sending back is certain that God loves her. She is equally certain that He loves everyone else, too. The child I am sending back is likely to ask her mother about "her church" and to pressure her to find them a church home. (I'm under no illusion that this is going to be the norm. But S is one determined little person.)
It's almost like I'm sending in a little stealth evangelist to convert her mother. That's a form of evangelism I can be comfortable with. Even if does seem a little sneaky.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Defiance
A lot of S's behavior issues are rooted in her desire to be in control. Of everything. (This is, of course, not unusual with foster kids -- they've learned that they must be in control in order to survive and it is very hard for them to give up control to these strange people called the "foster family.")
Lately, this need for control is coming out as defiance. Not just in the sense of "no, I won't" when asked to do something, but also in the sense of arguing with everything and anything. Never backing down. It seems that her instinctive response to any statement --no matter what it is -- is to disagree. And to disagree loudly and rudely.
I have joked that if you tell her the sky is blue on a clear day, she will say "No, it isn't!"
Today, in the car, I got an even better example. We started the car to head to church and the radio came on. It was tuned to a local Christian station. Minutes after the car started, the radio said "You're listening to 'Keep the Faith' on ...."
Immediately, S snarled, "No, we're not!"
To the radio.
Because it is wrong about its own programming.
And S Knows All.
Lately, this need for control is coming out as defiance. Not just in the sense of "no, I won't" when asked to do something, but also in the sense of arguing with everything and anything. Never backing down. It seems that her instinctive response to any statement --no matter what it is -- is to disagree. And to disagree loudly and rudely.
I have joked that if you tell her the sky is blue on a clear day, she will say "No, it isn't!"
Today, in the car, I got an even better example. We started the car to head to church and the radio came on. It was tuned to a local Christian station. Minutes after the car started, the radio said "You're listening to 'Keep the Faith' on ...."
Immediately, S snarled, "No, we're not!"
To the radio.
Because it is wrong about its own programming.
And S Knows All.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Line Crossed. Kinda.
Well, I couldn't help myself.
I told BioMom that "I shouldn't be saying this, but..."
I told her I felt it was unacceptable for the county to tell her that she has to wait an extra 2 months to get her child back at this point in the case. She agreed. She sounded hugely relieved to hear me say it and said she would ask her lawyer about that. (To be fair to her lawyer, I've never spoken to her and it could be that she would be reacting just the way I wanted her to, as soon as anyone told her what was going on.) By the time we were done talking, BioMom was going to call the caseworker as soon as we got off the phone.
I also sent an email to my agency caseworker in which I told her that I thought this was crazy and asked if there was anything we could suggest to speed things up. She responded with the same word I used. Unacceptable. It is unacceptable for CPS to use the court schedule as an excuse to drag out this case.
A few hours later, I got an email from the county caseworker. The final piece that they needed to do is complete from their end, although it has resulted in some small things BioMom needs to do. Once they are done -- a matter of a week or two, most likely -- we will move to overnights and petition the court to allow a hearing quickly, so S can go home sooner rather than later.
Today, when I met BioMom for a visit handoff, she told me the same news with a big smile. She said mid-July as a ball-park date to have S home for good. That's about one month from now, which sounds about right, considering we haven't started overnights yet.
It's not a done deal, yet, of course, because nothing in foster care is. But it sounds much, much better to me.
And I feel no guilt at all about being a bit of a squeaky wheel -- just glad it didn't backfire on BioMom. (I'll admit, when she said she was calling the caseworker, I got a little nervous. I hoped that I hadn't set BioMom up to behave in a way that was going to get the caseworker mad at her.)
I told BioMom that "I shouldn't be saying this, but..."
I told her I felt it was unacceptable for the county to tell her that she has to wait an extra 2 months to get her child back at this point in the case. She agreed. She sounded hugely relieved to hear me say it and said she would ask her lawyer about that. (To be fair to her lawyer, I've never spoken to her and it could be that she would be reacting just the way I wanted her to, as soon as anyone told her what was going on.) By the time we were done talking, BioMom was going to call the caseworker as soon as we got off the phone.
I also sent an email to my agency caseworker in which I told her that I thought this was crazy and asked if there was anything we could suggest to speed things up. She responded with the same word I used. Unacceptable. It is unacceptable for CPS to use the court schedule as an excuse to drag out this case.
A few hours later, I got an email from the county caseworker. The final piece that they needed to do is complete from their end, although it has resulted in some small things BioMom needs to do. Once they are done -- a matter of a week or two, most likely -- we will move to overnights and petition the court to allow a hearing quickly, so S can go home sooner rather than later.
Today, when I met BioMom for a visit handoff, she told me the same news with a big smile. She said mid-July as a ball-park date to have S home for good. That's about one month from now, which sounds about right, considering we haven't started overnights yet.
It's not a done deal, yet, of course, because nothing in foster care is. But it sounds much, much better to me.
And I feel no guilt at all about being a bit of a squeaky wheel -- just glad it didn't backfire on BioMom. (I'll admit, when she said she was calling the caseworker, I got a little nervous. I hoped that I hadn't set BioMom up to behave in a way that was going to get the caseworker mad at her.)
Friday, June 7, 2013
Crossing the Line
I am tempted to cross a boundary line that I am pretty sure I should not be crossing.
S's case has been sorely mishandled by CPS. Partly this is the natural result of the caseworker turnover we've had as things that should have been done early in the case were not and then the later caseworkers assumed they had been done by a predecessor, resulting in these things never being done at all. Until we finally got a caseworker with some skills in checking up on details.
The result of this is that we are now discovering that, if the first, or second, or even third caseworkers had done their job correctly, S's mother's caseplan would have been complete 3 months ago. Complete. Done. (That's before the last time we went to court, by the way.)
But that's apparently not bad enough by itself.
When I asked the (new, more on-top-of-things, not-the-one-who-screwed-up) county caseworker what the timeline for reunification now looks like, she said we can increase visitation (move to overnights with mom, for example), but we can't actually send her home until we go to court again.
I guess that makes sense. A judge has to look at this mess before they can officially send the child back to mom. When can we go to court?
Not for about 2 more months.
Wait. What?!
The court schedule for June and July is already set, so the earliest we can go to court to get ordered to reunify is August.
Never mind that it's CPS's fault that the mother's case plan wasn't complete the last time that we were in court -- not BioMom's. Never mind that we're now talking about a total of around 5 extra months of separation between a 3 year old and her mother. Never mind that this timeline means that S will have spent a full year of care -- over a quarter of her life -- and almost half of that time was pretty much completely unnecessary.
The boundary I want to cross? I want to tell BioMom to tell her lawyer to get mad. I want to tell BioMom's lawyer that she should be raising all kinds of heck about this and insisting that CPS arrange a court date As Soon As Possible, not When Next Convenient. (I'm pretty sure I won't actually cross that boundary....because I don't really want to be giving out legal advice....but I really, really want to see somebody get mad and raise a stink about this.)
BioMom is too scared of CPS to get mad. From the beginning, she has been clearly TERRIFIED that they are going to take her child away from her and give that child to me. I have consistently reassured her that my goal in this case is not to adopt her child, but simply to take care of her child until she finishes her case plan. She's done. She's been done. S should be long home by now and dragging things out 2 more months is not going to accomplish a thing, except to further traumatize an already struggling child. I should not be involved in this case anymore.
S struggles with "why is it taking so long?" and I don't know what to tell her. I can't tell her the truth -- because some of the grownups who don't know you (remember, the ones who came out to "see" you once or twice and then disappeared?) messed up and now we all have to wait longer. I won't lie to her. So she gets a lot of "I don't know" (I guess that's actually a lie, now) and "grown-up things sometimes take a really long time" from me. I'm sure that's very satisfying.
Foster Care Still Sucks, Cherub Mamma.
S's case has been sorely mishandled by CPS. Partly this is the natural result of the caseworker turnover we've had as things that should have been done early in the case were not and then the later caseworkers assumed they had been done by a predecessor, resulting in these things never being done at all. Until we finally got a caseworker with some skills in checking up on details.
The result of this is that we are now discovering that, if the first, or second, or even third caseworkers had done their job correctly, S's mother's caseplan would have been complete 3 months ago. Complete. Done. (That's before the last time we went to court, by the way.)
But that's apparently not bad enough by itself.
When I asked the (new, more on-top-of-things, not-the-one-who-screwed-up) county caseworker what the timeline for reunification now looks like, she said we can increase visitation (move to overnights with mom, for example), but we can't actually send her home until we go to court again.
I guess that makes sense. A judge has to look at this mess before they can officially send the child back to mom. When can we go to court?
Not for about 2 more months.
Wait. What?!
The court schedule for June and July is already set, so the earliest we can go to court to get ordered to reunify is August.
Never mind that it's CPS's fault that the mother's case plan wasn't complete the last time that we were in court -- not BioMom's. Never mind that we're now talking about a total of around 5 extra months of separation between a 3 year old and her mother. Never mind that this timeline means that S will have spent a full year of care -- over a quarter of her life -- and almost half of that time was pretty much completely unnecessary.
The boundary I want to cross? I want to tell BioMom to tell her lawyer to get mad. I want to tell BioMom's lawyer that she should be raising all kinds of heck about this and insisting that CPS arrange a court date As Soon As Possible, not When Next Convenient. (I'm pretty sure I won't actually cross that boundary....because I don't really want to be giving out legal advice....but I really, really want to see somebody get mad and raise a stink about this.)
BioMom is too scared of CPS to get mad. From the beginning, she has been clearly TERRIFIED that they are going to take her child away from her and give that child to me. I have consistently reassured her that my goal in this case is not to adopt her child, but simply to take care of her child until she finishes her case plan. She's done. She's been done. S should be long home by now and dragging things out 2 more months is not going to accomplish a thing, except to further traumatize an already struggling child. I should not be involved in this case anymore.
S struggles with "why is it taking so long?" and I don't know what to tell her. I can't tell her the truth -- because some of the grownups who don't know you (remember, the ones who came out to "see" you once or twice and then disappeared?) messed up and now we all have to wait longer. I won't lie to her. So she gets a lot of "I don't know" (I guess that's actually a lie, now) and "grown-up things sometimes take a really long time" from me. I'm sure that's very satisfying.
Foster Care Still Sucks, Cherub Mamma.
Monday, June 3, 2013
24/7
The biggest I-should-have-known-this-but-didn't-think-of-it-this-way-until-it-happened revelation hit me this weekend.
Foster parents are the only ones in this "system" who are working with and for foster kids 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
This struck me this particular weekend because so many people in this case promised to get back to me on Friday and didn't. And I realized Sunday afternoon that they were all "off" and I could count on hearing from none of them until Monday at best.
There was the agency caseworker, who has supposedly been working for 3 weeks to find us respite care for a night early this week when we have "big kid" plans. Last heard from Friday morning; at that time, it was "still working on it" and would send me some numbers of people I could try "soon."
There was the county caseworker, who called me Friday morning and left a message asking me to call her back. Which I did, within about 30 minutes, and had to leave her a message.
There was S's counselor, who told me at the end of S's last session (which was on TUESDAY) that she would call on Friday to set up this week's counseling appointment and to talk to me "about what she's seeing with S."
None of them called on Friday.
I was sick Friday, so I didn't call them myself, but the point is that I Shouldn't Have To Do That. These are professionals. Who told me they would call on a certain date. But didn't. (Rational Aside: OK. I get that when you work in child welfare, there comes a point in the day and the week when you have to just stop and give yourself a break because it never really ends. I really do get that. But all these people have my email address. It have taken them a few seconds to send me a quick: Sorry, got swamped today, will be in touch Monday. And those few seconds would have gone a huge way towards making me feel more supported and less on-our-own-here-until-they-feel-like-talking-to-us-and-then-we'd-better-show-up-when-and-where-they-say.)
I spent the weekend stewing about the fact that all of these people get to go home at the end of Friday and pretend to forget about the children whose lives they hold in their hands while I am still fielding "When can I go home?" questions and "I want my mommy" tantrums and dodging kicking feet while I'm at it.
This morning I got busy, and I am 2 for 3 so far.
Foster Care Sucks.
Foster parents are the only ones in this "system" who are working with and for foster kids 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
This struck me this particular weekend because so many people in this case promised to get back to me on Friday and didn't. And I realized Sunday afternoon that they were all "off" and I could count on hearing from none of them until Monday at best.
There was the agency caseworker, who has supposedly been working for 3 weeks to find us respite care for a night early this week when we have "big kid" plans. Last heard from Friday morning; at that time, it was "still working on it" and would send me some numbers of people I could try "soon."
There was the county caseworker, who called me Friday morning and left a message asking me to call her back. Which I did, within about 30 minutes, and had to leave her a message.
There was S's counselor, who told me at the end of S's last session (which was on TUESDAY) that she would call on Friday to set up this week's counseling appointment and to talk to me "about what she's seeing with S."
None of them called on Friday.
I was sick Friday, so I didn't call them myself, but the point is that I Shouldn't Have To Do That. These are professionals. Who told me they would call on a certain date. But didn't. (Rational Aside: OK. I get that when you work in child welfare, there comes a point in the day and the week when you have to just stop and give yourself a break because it never really ends. I really do get that. But all these people have my email address. It have taken them a few seconds to send me a quick: Sorry, got swamped today, will be in touch Monday. And those few seconds would have gone a huge way towards making me feel more supported and less on-our-own-here-until-they-feel-like-talking-to-us-and-then-we'd-better-show-up-when-and-where-they-say.)
I spent the weekend stewing about the fact that all of these people get to go home at the end of Friday and pretend to forget about the children whose lives they hold in their hands while I am still fielding "When can I go home?" questions and "I want my mommy" tantrums and dodging kicking feet while I'm at it.
This morning I got busy, and I am 2 for 3 so far.
- Emailed the agency caseworker, copying her supervisor, forwarding the whole email chain of 3 weeks worth of my asking for this one respite night. She responded with "I'm in court, but here are some people you can call." (Couldn't she have sent me those numbers on Friday night?) Then I did the rest of her job and found my own respite caregiver.
- Called the county caseworker and got her voicemail. Still wondering what she wanted to tell or ask me.
- Called the counselor and she actually answered! We spoke briefly and I learned what she had wanted to talk to me about. She had a revelation that S may be a little uncomfortable with reunification at this time because she remembers how unstable life was with her mother before she came into care and that's not what she's used to anymore. Really? You think? A 3 year old that spends 10 months in a stable household with consistent routines and rules might be a little put off at the idea of leaving all of that to return to the chaos that was home before? And could be feeling conflicted about that because she does love her mother and want to be with her? (AND ISN'T THAT ONE OF THE REASONS I PUSHED FOR COUNSELING IN THE FIRST PLACE!?)
Foster Care Sucks.
Friday, May 24, 2013
Drained
I'll just say this upfront. This is a whiny post. I'm having a difficult day and I want to complain for a while.
I'm exhausted. S is still raging. She saves them for me. I know this because I have seen her turn it off like a switch when she hears another adult come into the house, whether that's Mr D coming home from work or one of the myriad of social workers and counselors that drift into and out of our home on a semi-regular basis.
She's not throwing things at me any more. Well, not physical things. Now she's hurling words at me, as though she is desperately trying to break me. I don't know if she's trying to lessen her own pain by forcing it onto me or what is going on.
I'm trying to implement the things I've learned in training and from reading The Connected Child , but she keeps finding ways to react to them that aren't in the script. When I get down on her level to talk to her, she runs away from me. Do I follow her, in which case it turns into a chase around the house? Or try to honor her desire for space and have a conversation from across the room? She won't give me eye contact.
She resists complying with rules and requests by me with violence and anger...until the moment comes when she realizes that it's "too late" and then she tries to backtrack and begin to co-operate. My instinct is to say that she's missed her chance to make that choice and move on. I don't know if this is the right decision or not. Sometimes that choice is out of my hands anyway, depending on the reason it's "too late."
An example. She wanted to color today, and we had 30 minutes before we had to leave the house for something. So, I got out the crayons and put a piece of paper on the table. She demanded more paper, saying it wasn't enough. "Ask, don't tell." She Would Not Ask. She kept yelling "I want more!" I tried cueing her the exact words to asking, she kept resisting. When the 30 minutes were up and I declared it time to go, she finally said "Can I please have more paper?" I put more on the table for later, but there was no time left to color. She cried for 20 minutes in the car. No, she didn't cry. She sobbed, yelled, kicked, screamed and shouted things at me in the car. (Things like, "You're mean!" and "Nobody likes me anymore!")
And the most exhausting part is that she only does it with me. Oh, other adults get the occasional uncooperative moment, but not the violent acting out rages that I get. And that I only get when there are no other adults present.
I'm trying to believe that doesn't mean I'm doing something wrong. I'm trying to believe that means she's resisting my authority as the replacement mother figure or that she trusts me enough to try to push me away. But it's wearing me down.
I'm exhausted. S is still raging. She saves them for me. I know this because I have seen her turn it off like a switch when she hears another adult come into the house, whether that's Mr D coming home from work or one of the myriad of social workers and counselors that drift into and out of our home on a semi-regular basis.
She's not throwing things at me any more. Well, not physical things. Now she's hurling words at me, as though she is desperately trying to break me. I don't know if she's trying to lessen her own pain by forcing it onto me or what is going on.
I'm trying to implement the things I've learned in training and from reading The Connected Child , but she keeps finding ways to react to them that aren't in the script. When I get down on her level to talk to her, she runs away from me. Do I follow her, in which case it turns into a chase around the house? Or try to honor her desire for space and have a conversation from across the room? She won't give me eye contact.
She resists complying with rules and requests by me with violence and anger...until the moment comes when she realizes that it's "too late" and then she tries to backtrack and begin to co-operate. My instinct is to say that she's missed her chance to make that choice and move on. I don't know if this is the right decision or not. Sometimes that choice is out of my hands anyway, depending on the reason it's "too late."
An example. She wanted to color today, and we had 30 minutes before we had to leave the house for something. So, I got out the crayons and put a piece of paper on the table. She demanded more paper, saying it wasn't enough. "Ask, don't tell." She Would Not Ask. She kept yelling "I want more!" I tried cueing her the exact words to asking, she kept resisting. When the 30 minutes were up and I declared it time to go, she finally said "Can I please have more paper?" I put more on the table for later, but there was no time left to color. She cried for 20 minutes in the car. No, she didn't cry. She sobbed, yelled, kicked, screamed and shouted things at me in the car. (Things like, "You're mean!" and "Nobody likes me anymore!")
And the most exhausting part is that she only does it with me. Oh, other adults get the occasional uncooperative moment, but not the violent acting out rages that I get. And that I only get when there are no other adults present.
I'm trying to believe that doesn't mean I'm doing something wrong. I'm trying to believe that means she's resisting my authority as the replacement mother figure or that she trusts me enough to try to push me away. But it's wearing me down.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Visit Drama
All the pieces that go into scheduling visits for S are so difficult to juggle and it causes such issues that it's frustrating. And meanwhile, there is a little girl who just wants to know when she'll see her parents again. And I can't tell her.
When visits were just with Mommy (Daddy was in jail), we didn't have that much trouble. Her work schedule is all in the evenings, so visits were on a weekday, mid-morning to lunchtime, always the same day of the week. Perfect. Predictable, routine, evenly spaced.
Adding Daddy's visits originally wasn't that much of an issue either. Tack his time on either before or after hers.
But then he got a job. Which, of course, is a good thing, except it was M-F all day, so he wanted weekend visits. We did a few of those and then he lost the job. During the last one of those weekend visits that he had, he gave the supervisor a ton of attitude when she hinted that a lot of people had made sacrifices to make this happen the way he'd wanted it.
Supervisor would rather not work weekends herself, so we went back to weekday visits.
Now, he has another job and wants weekends back; supervisor is pushing back. I think he rubbed her the wrong way when he refused to admit that he owed anyone some gratitude for adjusting the visit schedule for him (specifically, I think she wanted him to acknowledge that S's mother was owed some thanks for being flexible with her own schedule). She's told him she'll do one weekend a month and if he wants a 2nd visit that month, he's just going to have to request a day off.
I also suspect that she doesn't think this job will last long either and is setting some firm boundaries with him.
But what all this drama leads to is this. There are about 2 weeks between visits. On visit day, I never know when the next one will be. Lately, I don't know until a day or two beforehand. Which sucks. It sucks for me and the other kids in the house -- it's hard to plan ANYTHING when I don't know what time she will need to be picked up or returned and during what time frame she'll be gone. But, bigger than that, it really, really sucks for her. We used to put a sticker on the calender on visit day and mark off the days as they passed, so she could have a visual for when she'd see Mommy again. We're still marking off days, but there's no sticker anymore for long stretches of time. Wouldn't be surprised if it makes her feel like she's never going to see her mother again.
I hate this. This little girl needs her time with her parents to be consistent. This is a child that is desperate for control and stability and the only things she's getting from the state are more disruptions and disorder. I hate the way this increases her behavior issues because she just can't cope with the not-knowing of all of this and I hate that I can't do anything to fix it. I hound the supervisor planning the visit; I remind her that S asks when she'll see them again and it's really hard on her when I can't tell her. But I don't think this is all the supervisor's fault--it's just too many schedules to juggle and too many people to try to get on the same page.
Mommy is requesting a move to unsupervised visits this month, so this may be the last time that there's just the one long visit time with both parents getting a share of it. I'm hoping that will help. I'm hoping that unsupervised means that Mommy and I work it out between us and it's just Daddy's visits that have to be "I don't know." Maybe the supervisor will be more OK with a weekend visit when it's just one parent, instead of two back-to-back. I'm not sure, but I suspect that S will cope with uncertain Daddy-time much better than uncertain Mommy-time. (It's always Mommy that she asks when she'll see her. It's always Mommy she cries for when she's unhappy. It's always Mommy that she wants to know when she can go to her house. Never Daddy for any of those things, although she will acknowledge that she'll see him the same day she sees Mommy.)
Foster care sucks.
When visits were just with Mommy (Daddy was in jail), we didn't have that much trouble. Her work schedule is all in the evenings, so visits were on a weekday, mid-morning to lunchtime, always the same day of the week. Perfect. Predictable, routine, evenly spaced.
Adding Daddy's visits originally wasn't that much of an issue either. Tack his time on either before or after hers.
But then he got a job. Which, of course, is a good thing, except it was M-F all day, so he wanted weekend visits. We did a few of those and then he lost the job. During the last one of those weekend visits that he had, he gave the supervisor a ton of attitude when she hinted that a lot of people had made sacrifices to make this happen the way he'd wanted it.
Supervisor would rather not work weekends herself, so we went back to weekday visits.
Now, he has another job and wants weekends back; supervisor is pushing back. I think he rubbed her the wrong way when he refused to admit that he owed anyone some gratitude for adjusting the visit schedule for him (specifically, I think she wanted him to acknowledge that S's mother was owed some thanks for being flexible with her own schedule). She's told him she'll do one weekend a month and if he wants a 2nd visit that month, he's just going to have to request a day off.
I also suspect that she doesn't think this job will last long either and is setting some firm boundaries with him.
But what all this drama leads to is this. There are about 2 weeks between visits. On visit day, I never know when the next one will be. Lately, I don't know until a day or two beforehand. Which sucks. It sucks for me and the other kids in the house -- it's hard to plan ANYTHING when I don't know what time she will need to be picked up or returned and during what time frame she'll be gone. But, bigger than that, it really, really sucks for her. We used to put a sticker on the calender on visit day and mark off the days as they passed, so she could have a visual for when she'd see Mommy again. We're still marking off days, but there's no sticker anymore for long stretches of time. Wouldn't be surprised if it makes her feel like she's never going to see her mother again.
I hate this. This little girl needs her time with her parents to be consistent. This is a child that is desperate for control and stability and the only things she's getting from the state are more disruptions and disorder. I hate the way this increases her behavior issues because she just can't cope with the not-knowing of all of this and I hate that I can't do anything to fix it. I hound the supervisor planning the visit; I remind her that S asks when she'll see them again and it's really hard on her when I can't tell her. But I don't think this is all the supervisor's fault--it's just too many schedules to juggle and too many people to try to get on the same page.
Mommy is requesting a move to unsupervised visits this month, so this may be the last time that there's just the one long visit time with both parents getting a share of it. I'm hoping that will help. I'm hoping that unsupervised means that Mommy and I work it out between us and it's just Daddy's visits that have to be "I don't know." Maybe the supervisor will be more OK with a weekend visit when it's just one parent, instead of two back-to-back. I'm not sure, but I suspect that S will cope with uncertain Daddy-time much better than uncertain Mommy-time. (It's always Mommy that she asks when she'll see her. It's always Mommy she cries for when she's unhappy. It's always Mommy that she wants to know when she can go to her house. Never Daddy for any of those things, although she will acknowledge that she'll see him the same day she sees Mommy.)
Foster care sucks.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Labels
Like a lot of foster parents with other non-foster children, I spend a lot of time feeling like I'm living in two worlds that only overlap in my house.
Most of the parents of the Originals' classmates and friends have "normal" children with "normal" problems. I don't want to minimize those problems because they can be very real and legitimate concerns. But sometimes, I just want to slap some of those people.
I hear a lot of people agonizing over "labels." They don't want their child "labelled." They don't want people to "only see the label." (Unless, of course, the label is "gifted", but that's a whole different vent.) That's a legitimate concern...that makes me grind my teeth.
Anecdotal evidence -- my only experiences with a child that's been "labelled" have been positive. My daughter is "special needs." She is "labelled."
And you know what? The label gets the insurance to pay for the therapies. The label gets the school system to make accommodations. The label helps my daughter explain some of her "quirks" to her friends.
We've just started counseling for S. Her new psych eval mentioned the possibility of a behavioral disorder. I don't know much about the specific disorder yet and I don't yet know if that's right or not....but if having that label helps us get help with the rages, then I'm happy to label her. I can't say that too loudly, though, or I start feeling like one of those parents who "just wants to drug their child, rather than work on the problem." I do want to work on the problem; sometimes medication is what helps work on a problem. We don't refuse to give a child an antibiotic when they have an ear infection -- why do we refuse mental health medication, if it helps? (We aren't talking about medication, anyway. We're talking about using different behavioral tools for S because maybe her brain operates differently than most children.)
Most of the parents of the Originals' classmates and friends have "normal" children with "normal" problems. I don't want to minimize those problems because they can be very real and legitimate concerns. But sometimes, I just want to slap some of those people.
I hear a lot of people agonizing over "labels." They don't want their child "labelled." They don't want people to "only see the label." (Unless, of course, the label is "gifted", but that's a whole different vent.) That's a legitimate concern...that makes me grind my teeth.
Anecdotal evidence -- my only experiences with a child that's been "labelled" have been positive. My daughter is "special needs." She is "labelled."
And you know what? The label gets the insurance to pay for the therapies. The label gets the school system to make accommodations. The label helps my daughter explain some of her "quirks" to her friends.
We've just started counseling for S. Her new psych eval mentioned the possibility of a behavioral disorder. I don't know much about the specific disorder yet and I don't yet know if that's right or not....but if having that label helps us get help with the rages, then I'm happy to label her. I can't say that too loudly, though, or I start feeling like one of those parents who "just wants to drug their child, rather than work on the problem." I do want to work on the problem; sometimes medication is what helps work on a problem. We don't refuse to give a child an antibiotic when they have an ear infection -- why do we refuse mental health medication, if it helps? (We aren't talking about medication, anyway. We're talking about using different behavioral tools for S because maybe her brain operates differently than most children.)
Friday, April 26, 2013
Random Thoughts
- It's a good thing S had school today because we were getting on each other's nerves this morning. I did not have my usual patience for answering the same questions that I answer on a daily basis; she was not happy with my insistence that she knew the answer to that and I wasn't answering it again. I was not feeling the compromises today; she was not willing to hand over any power whatsoever. The initial pickup at school didn't bode much better for her side of it as she nearly melted down when I would not let her run through the parking lot with her new "kite" made in school that day, but the hours "off" had given me a deeper level of serenity and patience. I was able to redirect her onto a grassy field to show me the kite and successfully headed off the meltdown by meeting her need to show off her new creation while still meeting my own need to keep her safe.
- We might have court in a few weeks. But I don't know that for sure. If I think too hard about this, I will get irritable again. I will just say that S's mom told me when court is and asked if we would be there. I told her, honestly, that I'd like to be, but that I haven't heard anything about it yet. My query to the caseworker has, shockingly, gone unanswered. (BioMom says her letter tells her they will be discussing the possibility of moving to unsupervised visits with her. I would like to be there to add my resounding and enthusiastic support to that idea and hopefully get an official answer on what the rules will be -- specifically, what's the upper limit to frequency and duration?)
- Finally, finally, finally starting counseling for S, although it is clear to me that this counselor has only worked with kids in "schools" that are full-time day-care or, you know, K-12 schools. She's seeing S at "school" for an hour a week. Out of the 9 hours that S spends there. For the month that remains of S's school year. OK. What really made me laugh was when she earnestly told me she would plan to see her at 10am, so that she could be done "before lunch and nap-time." Yeah, those are at my house. :)
- It's almost May which means all the random "events" are starting up for the Originals as well as for S. Spring Sing concert, Field Day, Writer's Tea, Barter Day, Teacher Appreciation week, Band Concert in the Park, 5th Grade "Walk" (a "not-graduation" ceremony), Volunteer Appreciation breakfasts, sports banquets and End of Year parties. My May calendar makes my eyes hurt. Part of me wants to suggest that next year, we hold all our volunteer appreciation events at some random time during the year....like March....so that they don't fall when our volunteers are busy, you know, volunteering?
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
It's all Glacial
Glacial is my word for the day.
As in, the pace of this case glacial.
Nothing much new right now, except that I learned something about the case history which makes me even more frustrated with this glacial pace.
I knew that S's mother's initial arrest was drug related. I was under the impression that the drug in question was a highly addictive, extremely dangerous one. The drug I thought was involved is one that I have been told is very difficult to stop using; many drug counselors are adamant that the usual "6-months clean" on a case plan is not even close to being enough to ensure that the parent has truly kicked the addiction. That understanding was giving me some modicum of comfort with the glacial pace of the rest of this case, as it meant that S's mom was getting more than 6 months to really stay clean.
On a piece of paperwork today, I saw reference to her drug arrest. It stated that the drug in question is not the one I though. Instead, it is a much milder drug -- one that is legal in some parts of the country, although not here.
I am not going to debate drug legalization in this space. I don't know enough of the facts about addiction and the different types of drugs in question to speak knowledgeably about that. The fact is that, in this state, that drug is illegal. I don't believe that it's OK to break laws just because you don't believe they are "right", so I'm not going to argue that S's mother "didn't do anything wrong."
But I sure do feel like she did a heck of lot less than I first thought. And the idea that S has been here -- and limited to 4 hours a month with her mother -- for EIGHT MONTHS over this makes me sick to my stomach.
Still hearing that the caseworker is "working on unsupervised visits" which could be longer and more frequent because they don't cost the county any money. Still offering to personally transport to and from said visits if that will help them happen.
Finally getting counseling started.
Glacial. Things that affect the lives of 3 year olds should not be glacial.
As in, the pace of this case glacial.
Nothing much new right now, except that I learned something about the case history which makes me even more frustrated with this glacial pace.
I knew that S's mother's initial arrest was drug related. I was under the impression that the drug in question was a highly addictive, extremely dangerous one. The drug I thought was involved is one that I have been told is very difficult to stop using; many drug counselors are adamant that the usual "6-months clean" on a case plan is not even close to being enough to ensure that the parent has truly kicked the addiction. That understanding was giving me some modicum of comfort with the glacial pace of the rest of this case, as it meant that S's mom was getting more than 6 months to really stay clean.
On a piece of paperwork today, I saw reference to her drug arrest. It stated that the drug in question is not the one I though. Instead, it is a much milder drug -- one that is legal in some parts of the country, although not here.
I am not going to debate drug legalization in this space. I don't know enough of the facts about addiction and the different types of drugs in question to speak knowledgeably about that. The fact is that, in this state, that drug is illegal. I don't believe that it's OK to break laws just because you don't believe they are "right", so I'm not going to argue that S's mother "didn't do anything wrong."
But I sure do feel like she did a heck of lot less than I first thought. And the idea that S has been here -- and limited to 4 hours a month with her mother -- for EIGHT MONTHS over this makes me sick to my stomach.
Still hearing that the caseworker is "working on unsupervised visits" which could be longer and more frequent because they don't cost the county any money. Still offering to personally transport to and from said visits if that will help them happen.
Finally getting counseling started.
Glacial. Things that affect the lives of 3 year olds should not be glacial.
Friday, March 22, 2013
On a lighter note...
Because it's age appropriate, we've talked a lot about "private parts" and "privacy" with S.
In the grocery store today, walking by the magazine section, the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition was on display.
S giggled and pointed and said "I can see her private parts."
We agreed that the lady on that magazine cover should put on a shirt.
In the grocery store today, walking by the magazine section, the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition was on display.
S giggled and pointed and said "I can see her private parts."
We agreed that the lady on that magazine cover should put on a shirt.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
My own triggers
I'm feeling a little better about S's rages. I finally got a response from someone . . . someone who listened to what I had to say, validated it and gave concrete, specific advice for how to move forward from here. That really helped. I also realized something.
When we were going through our home study, there was an interview section. The interviewer asked us questions about our own childhoods and relationships with family members. She talked about how there aren't really "wrong" answers to those questions (although I'm sure there are some answers that would be red flags), but said it was important to know what sort of things might be in our own pasts that a future foster child could trigger. We needed to work through any of those issues ourselves before we could help a child with similar ones.
Made sense to me. I thought long and hard and tried to imagine anything that could impact a placement.
But I looked too far back. I didn't think about more recent experiences.
I kept asking for help for S, telling professional after professional that she is melting down and I don't know how to help her.
I kept getting all but patted on the head as these people tell me this is "normal" and I'm doing a great job with her and would I like to schedule a respite weekend soon?
I finally realized what past memory that response is dredging up. Susan. The first, oh, about 7 years of her life. Specialist after specialist telling me she is "fine", she's "within normal ranges", she'll "grow out of it" or "catch up." Years of feeling in my gut that she's not fine, that there's something bigger here than a "mild developmental delay", that I don't know how to help her. Pretty much from birth. Until finally, in the spring of 1st grade, the school psychologist did a psych eval on her at my request. (Requested on the advice of the private psychologist we were seeing who told me they had to do it if I asked for it and that he could do one, but that the school might dismiss any findings he made, but "if they find it, they have to offer her resources in school to help her.") And that was when we finally had the Asperger's diagnosis. 7 years.
S can't wait 7 years.
I can't wait 7 years.
I don't ask for help or support services lightly. I know resources are thin and there's not enough money in the pot to cover all the help everybody wants. So, it takes a pretty dramatic problem for me to start screaming for help. And getting brushed off with what they think are reassuring statements is the last thing I need.
Again and again, forever and forever....foster care sucks.
When we were going through our home study, there was an interview section. The interviewer asked us questions about our own childhoods and relationships with family members. She talked about how there aren't really "wrong" answers to those questions (although I'm sure there are some answers that would be red flags), but said it was important to know what sort of things might be in our own pasts that a future foster child could trigger. We needed to work through any of those issues ourselves before we could help a child with similar ones.
Made sense to me. I thought long and hard and tried to imagine anything that could impact a placement.
But I looked too far back. I didn't think about more recent experiences.
I kept asking for help for S, telling professional after professional that she is melting down and I don't know how to help her.
I kept getting all but patted on the head as these people tell me this is "normal" and I'm doing a great job with her and would I like to schedule a respite weekend soon?
I finally realized what past memory that response is dredging up. Susan. The first, oh, about 7 years of her life. Specialist after specialist telling me she is "fine", she's "within normal ranges", she'll "grow out of it" or "catch up." Years of feeling in my gut that she's not fine, that there's something bigger here than a "mild developmental delay", that I don't know how to help her. Pretty much from birth. Until finally, in the spring of 1st grade, the school psychologist did a psych eval on her at my request. (Requested on the advice of the private psychologist we were seeing who told me they had to do it if I asked for it and that he could do one, but that the school might dismiss any findings he made, but "if they find it, they have to offer her resources in school to help her.") And that was when we finally had the Asperger's diagnosis. 7 years.
S can't wait 7 years.
I can't wait 7 years.
I don't ask for help or support services lightly. I know resources are thin and there's not enough money in the pot to cover all the help everybody wants. So, it takes a pretty dramatic problem for me to start screaming for help. And getting brushed off with what they think are reassuring statements is the last thing I need.
Again and again, forever and forever....foster care sucks.
Friday, March 15, 2013
"Normal" is not OK
I am currently screaming through keyholes and banging on doors (figuratively, of course) in an attempt to get some sort of counseling in place for S. She is literally banging on doors and screaming. The response I get from caseworker after caseworker?
"This is normal in children her age around this point in a placement. She's just so frustrated that it doesn't seem like anything is changing and she feels like she's been here a long time."
OK. I know all that. I'm frustrated by those things, too. How 'bout some professional help for her to learn how to PROCESS THOSE FEELINGS? Or at least professional advice for me on how to help her?
"Oh, we can't refer her for counseling until she's 4."
So, it's normal for 3 year-olds in care to scream themselves hoarse and hit walls until their hands bleed....but it's not possible to get them help? How does that make sense?
Foster care sucks.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Oh, for the love....
Just found out S's county caseworker is changing AGAIN.
I just....
This isn't....
I can't...
There are no words.
FOUR caseworkers in SEVEN months.
Unacceptable. And yet, I have no choice but to accept it.
I just....
This isn't....
I can't...
There are no words.
FOUR caseworkers in SEVEN months.
Unacceptable. And yet, I have no choice but to accept it.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Naming Progression
I'm writing about this again because I just think watching it develop is interesting and I don't want to forget this.
I wrote about what S started out calling us here when she started transitioning towards a different name. That time it didn't last long.
But around Christmas, she switched over to pretty much always using Mom and Dad for the two of us, while using Mommy and Daddy for her bio parents.
Except when she's mad at me or I don't respond quickly enough to the first call for attention. Then she calls me Ms FirstName. :)
I wrote about what S started out calling us here when she started transitioning towards a different name. That time it didn't last long.
But around Christmas, she switched over to pretty much always using Mom and Dad for the two of us, while using Mommy and Daddy for her bio parents.
Except when she's mad at me or I don't respond quickly enough to the first call for attention. Then she calls me Ms FirstName. :)
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
What if they don't?
Generally, I love PBS Kids programming. We happen to get two different local PBS stations, so when my pre-school kids watch TV during a school day, their choices are PBS1 show and PBS2 show. (Generally this means I'm saying things like "you can watch Dinosaur Train or Super Why, which do you choose?" If they don't like either of these, well, I guess we'll do something else then.)
This usually works well, and we love us some Super Why and Curious George at this house.
S has taken a liking to the new Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood as well, which has been fine....until today. If you've never watched the show, there's always a short sung tag line that's the "lesson" for the day. (There's been things like "Making something is one way to say I love you" or "When you feel so mad that you want to ROAR, take deep breath and count to 4!") The song gets repeated several times as the character has to practice that lesson during the story.
Today, the story is one of those stories that sounds like a great idea . . . to people who've never had foster kids.
The premise is that Daniel's parents went out for the evening and he had a baby-sitter stay with him.
Today's theme tag song was "grown-ups come back."
Oops. We, um, obviously didn't watch the whole thing. I "remembered" that we were going to make muffins today and we did that instead.
This usually works well, and we love us some Super Why and Curious George at this house.
S has taken a liking to the new Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood as well, which has been fine....until today. If you've never watched the show, there's always a short sung tag line that's the "lesson" for the day. (There's been things like "Making something is one way to say I love you" or "When you feel so mad that you want to ROAR, take deep breath and count to 4!") The song gets repeated several times as the character has to practice that lesson during the story.
Today, the story is one of those stories that sounds like a great idea . . . to people who've never had foster kids.
The premise is that Daniel's parents went out for the evening and he had a baby-sitter stay with him.
Today's theme tag song was "grown-ups come back."
Oops. We, um, obviously didn't watch the whole thing. I "remembered" that we were going to make muffins today and we did that instead.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)