When Hope Dies

I haven't been blogging as much recently for several reasons:

• We've been doing a lot of things (mostly involving self-care) that pull me away from the Internet, which leaves less time for blogging.
• It's clear from my site traffic logs that I've attracted the attention and ire of some more people who intend me harm. Nice.
• I just don't know what to say anymore.  Much of the time I feel like I am repeating the same story over and over and over again.  Given my group of "fans" (and I use the term sarcastically) I'm not sure that it's smart to publicly write about what is going on in our home anymore*.

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Baggage made a really good point this morning about hope.  She was commenting on Last Mom's post about the anger and resentment one might feel towards their adopted child, and said the following:

[H]ow do you not be resentful towards someone who accuses you of child abuse, who destroys things, who causes you trouble left and right in all sorts of ways, when all you have tried to do is love them, to parent them "therapeutically," to do everything you can to make it better.

I understand these feelings more so than ever.  Baggage went on to say that she had high hopes for her child when she was nine years old.  Now that her daughter is a teen, all she hopes for is that the kid escapes death and incarceration.

I understand. I understand. I understand.

This morning, we had a big meeting with the folks at our county's mental health office.  The meeting seemed pretty pointless, and a waste of seven people's time.  They told us they were going to give our kid the same services that we'd discussed over the phone.  So why, since they had already told us what they are going to do, did they make us come down and chat about it for 90 minutes?

Oh, I know why.  It was so the meeting organizer could compliment all the other people involved in our daughter's case on what a great job they are doing. 

Whatever. 

Of course my frustration is that the services they are going to provide are coming far too late.  They are basically going to be a repeat of what we've been doing all along, just with another new person. The only difference is this time we are going to see someone who is licensed.  That's an improvement, but it should have been done years ago. What are we on, now?  Mental health professional number eight?

This is insanity.  Let's do the same things, over and over again, and hope for a different result...

I have no hope left.

Our situation at home isn't about putting on an oxygen mask, being better parents, or anything else like that. It's about a very sick and troubled child, who is damaged (possibly beyond repair) and a system that doesn't have the resources or willingness to really help her.

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* I am considering opening up a private blog.  If you are interested, shoot me a private e-mail.  If there's enough interest, I'll set something up, though invites will only go out to folks that I "know" either through comments, or their own blogs.

When Adoption Isn't Fun

Yesterday afternoon, I found the following over at Urban Servant.

Many adoptive moms carry a terrible secret around in their hearts.
It's the overwhelming weight that they can't even whisper to their husbands late at night.
It's the guilty relief they feel whenever their kids leave for school and the excruciating despair they face when three o'clock rolls around again...

At it's barest essence it boils down to the the heart breaking reality that they don't love or even like their newly (or not so newly) adopted kids.

There's more. Go read.

Baggage, Too

It looks like I'm not the only one who is sick and tired of pointless child welfare investigations.  Baggage is tired of it, too.  On Saturday, she wrote:

I'm so sick of everything involving DFS. My kid is hospitalized again, and we are trying to get her into residential. We have another investigation against us. The investigator was really nice, and I'm sure it will be unsubstantiated, because of course, it was unsubstantiated. And my daughter, she is sick and she needs help. I keep telling myself that.

All I can say,  Baggage, is that I completely hear you.  I'm sick and tired of pointless investigations that waste my time, make my child upset, and make it impossible to get any good, productive work done.  Let's face it -- one can't concentrate on work when one is thinking about what might happen when the social worker comes calling, even if one knows they have done nothing wrong.

We are to the point where unexpected visitors to the door create great anxiety for everyone in the house.  Earlier today, a woman came to the door wanting to talk to someone who doesn't live here.  It turned out the door-knocker was at the wrong address, but her badge, dress and professional manner of speaking (she wasn't from the child abuse patrol, as near as we could tell) gave everyone a brief scare.  Our child stepped away from the door, wide eyed and frightened, as if she'd seen a ghost.

We shouldn't have to live this way.

NOBODY should have to live this way.

The Insanity of Child Abuse Allegations

In our county, if someone calls the child abuse hotline, even if they report something that is legally not abuse, authorities will investigate.

We've now been investigated four times for child abuse. With the exception of one investigation two years ago, that was triggered because our child lied to police and claimed her arm had been dislocated*, everything else we've been investigated for is complete nonsense. Since all of these allegations have been completely bogus, all investigations have cleared us of any wrongdoing.  The charges have been unfounded.

We've been investigated for "forcing" our child to change her name and religion at the time of her adoption (untrue), not allowing post-adoption contact with her birth family (also untrue), sending her to a summer boot camp for troubled kids (true, but not abuse), griping about her annoying behavior (true, but not abuse), and most recently, because our child has been hitting us.

So that big violation of trust?  The crisis counselor filed a child abuse report on us because Danielle was hitting us, we were discussing out-of-home placement, and I'd told the counselor I wasn't going to follow some of her advice, because I disagreed with it.

So let's take a quick look at these allegations, shall we?

• A child hitting her parents is not child abuse.  It's elder abuse.
• Considering out-of-home placement is not child abuse, especially when said child has been violent in the home for close to two and a half years.
• Parents disagreeing with a therapist's advice is not child abuse.
  
  In this case, the crisis counselor wanted us to buy our daughter a new cell phone, and give her increased freedoms and perks.  It didn't seem like a good idea, since we were debriefing after another episode of our daughter's violence.  Given our troubles over the July 4th weekend, I think restricting, rather than increasing, her freedom is probably the wise choice.

I'm not even sure what to say about this situation, other than I'm pretty unhappy with the crisis counselor at the moment.  I would have understood her actions if she was reporting something that actually could have been considered abuse if it were true, but this is just a complete pile of baloney.

We were investigated and cleared in one day.  The charges were unfounded.

But that one day resulted in a ton of lost productivity at work and caused our child so much anxiety and distress that I can't even describe it.  I am so unhappy about what happened that I don't want the counselor back in our home.  We are done.  She's fired.   Of course firing her is probably unnecessary, as she would have moved on in a week or two anyway.  This agency only provides short-term counseling services.

We spoke to the counselor's supervisor, and at first she tried to hide behind the mandated reporter laws.  That's all well and good, but what was reported was not abuse.  Then, she tried to backpedal and say that the worker had contacted authorities because our child was abusing us, and this simply turned into a miscommunication between her agency and the child welfare people.

I call bullshit.

Seriously.  If you pick up the phone and call the child abuse hotline, what do you think you are doing?  Ordering a pizza?

Give me a break.

The supervisor offered to facilitate a meeting between their agency and the child abuse investigation people.  No thanks.  Danielle has been traumatized enough.  She's terrified of social workers, and each time she is interviewed by one, her reaction is increasingly negative.  This time, she suffered through two hours of a panic attack, complete with vomiting, headache, heart palpitations, and dizziness.  My kid doesn't need to be subjected to more of this.

Then, the supervisor offered to have one final meeting in our home to debrief.

Again, no thanks.  We are done.

It absolutely boggles my mind.  We were turned in because our child is hitting us, we are considering an out-of-home placement, and I told the therapist I won't buy my kid a brand new cell phone a week after she tried to kick me.

Insanity.

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* Our child's arm was not, and has never been, dislocated.  The police could plainly see that she had not been injured, but they had to file a report anyway, because Danielle had made the allegation.

When Professionals Violate Trust

After a difficult meeting with the crisis counselor last week, and a troubling July 4th weekend, we came home to learn that the crisis counselor had done something that really violated our family's trust.  The result of her mistake created some unbelievable drama and a traumatic event for Danielle that, once it was over, resulted in her having a two-hour-long panic attack.

The attack was so severe that we considered transporting Danielle to the emergency room.  She was vomiting and hyperventilating, and complained of a headache and heart palpitations.  It was bad.  Since her pediatrician bawled us out the last time we took her to the ER without a telephone consultation first, we called her office.  The doctor spoke to us and then to Danielle.  After about 20 minutes, she was able to partially talk Danielle down out of her emotional tree.

The logical choice would have been to call the crisis counselor, but of course it was her actions that had created the problem in the first place.

So what do you do when a professional violates your trust in such a profound way?

Once Danielle had calmed down enough to go to bed, we called the counselor, expecting to get her voice mail system.  Surprisingly, she answered, and my wife and I calmly let her know just how badly she had damaged our professional relationship and undermined Danielle's trust in her.

"What you did was not cool," I told her.

Her response?

"I was only trying to help."

Her "help" ended up creating two days of stress, drama, and unproductive, distracted work for us.  More importantly, she created two days of worry and stress for our kid.  Although the problem that was created has been resolved, the destruction of Danielle's trust is complete.  She no longer wishes to work with this particular counselor, nor does she wish to work with anyone else.

And I don't blame Danielle one little bit.

Although I really don't believe that the crisis counselor meant any malice in her actions, she failed to consider the effect they would have on everyone, especially Danielle.  Part of the problem, I think, is her lack of experience.  She is not a licensed therapist; rather, she's an inexperienced fresh-out-of-school intern, who failed to consider the fact that we are dealing with a child of trauma, and her actions stepped right onto one of Danielle's biggest triggers.

The only thing that frustrates me more is the fact that the crisis counselor had been warned in advance about this particular trigger, and she didn't bother to take it into account.

"I was only trying to help."

That may have been very well her intention, but it was a huge violation of everyone's trust.  We are trying to get help for a troubled child who needs it, and now the so-called helping professionals have once again made Danielle's situation much, much, much worse.

They created an enormous mess, and now we are the ones left trying to clean it up.

Self Care - Part V

One of the most important realizations that I've come to as I've pondered the issue of self-care, is the fact that foster, kinship and adoptive parents need to realize an important fact:

Our children's problems are not our fault.

This is very easy to say, but it is much harder to believe, since inevitably parents are blamed for the problems their children exhibit.  When a family is out in public, and a 10-year-old throws a temper tantrum in the middle of a warehouse store, the public doesn't think, "Oh, the poor family of a special-needs child."  Instead, they think, "Geeze, what a lousy parent!  If that was my kid acting that way, I'd belt him into next Tuesday."

Likewise, teachers, medical professionals, friends and even family don't understand why our children behave so badly.  If a child has problems, people reason, it has to be the parents' fault.

Maybe this idea might be true in the case of badly-behaved children who were properly nurtured and cared for since birth.  Unfortunately, most foster and many adoptive parents don't have that luxury.  Many of us have adopted from the domestic foster care system, and most of the children in that system are there because they were abused or neglected for years before they came into our homes.

So they act out, some in very profound, troubling ways.

And society at large wants to blame us for those problems.

But to properly care for ourselves (and by extension our children) we have to recognize two important things: 1) we didn't cause the problems our children have, and 2) we can't necessarily fix them.  This is especially true in cases where our children have been prenatally exposed to drugs or alcohol, or they are burdened with a biological destiny of mental illness.

We didn't cause it, and we can't fix it.

As painful as it sounds, many of us have to realize that there are some problems in our children that simply cannot be repaired, no matter how much love, attention, or services we shower upon them.  Some of our children are too broken, too damaged, and too disabled to function as normal children can.  Worse, many of these kids are going to grow up to repeat the cycle of their birth families.

For most families, that reality creates a lot of guilt.  Parents question themselves and wonder, "Could we have done better?"  They wonder if perhaps they should have sold the family home or gone deep into debt to cover therapy or services that weren't covered by insurance.

But as I've discussed before, bankrupting one's future in the hopes one might save a child isn't the wisest choice.  At some point, that child will leave the family home, either when he reaches the age of majority, or when he runs away or becomes too violent to stay.

So we have to realize that there is only so much we can do. We have to recognize that there is a limit, and all we can do has to be good enough.  Sure, there will always be critics out there, accusing parents of being selfish, or having not done everything they could do, but at the end of the day, a family has to live within its financial, physical and emotional means.

And sometimes, good enough just has to be good enough, even if it's not perfect.

If we recognize that there are some children who cannot be fixed (and who will never be "normal") and we simply do our best to give them the best childhood we can then we should be satisfied.  That doesn't mean allowing a violent child to abuse the family, or a manipulative one to escape consequences.  It means that we make the best of what we have, and do the best we can given that we began from a crappy starting place.

If you can forgive yourself for not being able to save your children, you'll sleep a lot better at night.

Self Care - Part IV

Yesterday, Integrity Singer wrote about how she came to the conclusion that her mentally ill daughter's life is not more important than her own. I thought it was a moving, well-written post, and I found myself wishing that I could come up with something even half as eloquent.

And then, I was reminded that I really ought to add to my series on self-care.

An important aspect of self-care, especially when dealing with seriously damaged, disabled, or traumatized kids, is that we realize that their lives are not more important than our own.  We parents are important.  Our needs must be met.

In fact, I would argue that our needs should be met first, if for no other reason so that we have the energy to do our best for our children.

I realize that my critics will argue with me and perhaps even call me selfish for advocating that parents should put themselves first, but I realize that when one lives in a world of scarce resources, it's the only healthy conclusion one can reach.

Children, whether disabled or not, rely on their parents for everything.  It is the parents who provide the food the kids eat, the clothing they wear, and the housing, entertainment, and everything else the kids want or need.  If a child's parents are sacrificing their basic needs in order to "save" their child, they are forgetting an important reality -- if a parent is too tired, depressed, overwhelmed, or hungry -- he or she cannot do a good job providing for that child, themselves, or the rest of the family.

In our family, I am the primary breadwinner.  In order to better take care of my family, I owe it to them to take care of myself.  So my wife and I try to spend time together, away from our child.  We try to get adequate sleep, even if it means putting an early end to conversations that might be important to our daughter.  (Why is it that she never wants to have these conversations at a convenient time, instead of wanting them five minutes before bedtime, when we are all exhausted?)  I take time to exercise, even though it's not always fun or convenient.  When we take our rare vacation days, we spend them doing the things that will give us adults the maximum rest and relaxation, even when those plans are in direct conflict with what our child wants.  (She wishes for noisy and chaotic amusement parks, while we crave quiet, natural campgrounds.)

What our child wants is important, but I've come to realize that there is no way we can take care of her if we do not take care of our needs first.  Although she's not as difficult as some kids that we've read about in the blogosphere, she is by no means an "easy" child to live with.  Some days, she can be a joy to be around, while others are so bad there are simply no words to adequately describe them.

And in some ways, riding the roller coaster that goes up and down, sometimes stopping in Crazy Town and sometimes not, is more difficult than dealing with consistent behavior, even when it is all bad.  Her behavior constantly reminds me of the line from the movie Forest Gump, "Mama always said life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

In our case, we never know what version of Danielle we are going to see in any given moment.  The word "unpredictable" doesn't adequately describe her behavior.  Sometimes we brace for what we think will be an inevitable explosion, and she will respond favorably.  Other times, she'll explode over nothing, when we least expect it.

We never know what we are going to get.

So when we ride the roller coaster, up and down, around and around, sometimes stopping in Crazy Town and sometimes not, we find ourselves exhausted.  The phrase, "I am so tired," frequently escapes our lips, so we grab whatever crumbs  of respite, relaxation and enjoyment we can, even if it means that our child doesn't get everything she wants.

One of the ways that we adults try to take care of ourselves is to spend time outdoors.  Camping, especially at some of the more rustic local campgrounds, is one of our favorite activities.  We've spent many a nice day, simply sitting outside under our sun shade, watching the day go by.  Since we have parrots, and sunshine is imperative for their health, we try to take them outside nearly every day.  I also make a point to run outdoors three times a week*, or find time to wash our cars, so that I can breathe in fresh air while also getting some badly-needed exercise.

Even though I'm fair-skinned and burn more easily than anyone else I've ever met, I've noticed that my mood really has come to depend on getting a certain amount of outside time.  Being able to go outdoors, even if it's only to watch the cars buzzing down my street, is hugely important.  Although our child often manages to bring her own portable rain cloud with her, even on the nicest days, we still make a point to spend some time in the sun.

I've noticed something important: the more time I spend doing the things that I enjoy, that fill my soul and meet my needs, the more able I am to effectively deal with my child's explosions, disrespect, and challenges.  The more content I am with my life, irrespective of my child, the less her behaviors bother me.

Now that's not to say that her behaviors don't get under my skin.  They absolutely do.  It's just that if I'm more happy, well-rested and fed, then I have more emotional energy to allow her "let's take a trip to Crazy Town" behaviors roll off my back.

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* After a long break from running because I was sick, I re-started Couch to 5K.

Self Care - Part III

I apologize to my readers who have been waiting for my series on self-care. I had planned to write a number of posts, one per day, until I'd covered all the topics I wanted to address. Unfortunately, life got in the way last week, and this week Danielle's behavior has been in the toilet.

It's hard to write anything really meaningful when you are being aggravated to death by petty, ridiculous behaviors.  Last night, for example, Danielle tried to argue that the case of sparkling water sitting on our front porch wasn't water.  FosterEema had asked her to bring our monthly water delivery inside, and she had brought in the five-gallon jugs, but left the case of individual bottles sitting outdoors.  When FosterEema called her on it, she argued that the [brand name] bottles weren't water, but were something else, so she wasn't supposed to bring those inside.

Funny that, considering the fact that the case was clearly labeled [brand name] sparkling water on the sides and top.

It would be funny if it weren't so darned pathetic.  Danielle has no idea how idiotic it makes her appear when she tries to argue things like water isn't really water, or that the Air Force isn't part of the military.

But I digress.

This morning's post was supposed to be about self-care.

In response to Self Care - Part II, Lisa wrote:

It took me too many years and tens of thousands of dollars (put on credit cards no less) to figure this one out. I felt like I had to try EVERYTHING to help my kids. I was depressed for weeks when I couldn't swing one type of therapy for 3 kids that would have run me over $300/week. I felt horrible guilt when I couldn't enroll 4 kids in a tutoring program that would have been upwards of $1,000/month. I was nuts. It took me much too long to realize that these kids would be GONE and I would be paying on these failed therapies for the rest of my life. I just had to start saying (and meaning) NO - and I did! It's been 3 years now and with a ridiculous amount of belt=tightening, most of the debt is gone. Of course one of the kids is gone, another is leaving in 10 mos and another a year later so it's not like we have time to develop a nest egg - and we are much older now than when we began this journey - but nevertheless, it's happening. Self care is so...important, and the one thing we NEVER budget for. Vitamin supplements that cost $300/month? We found a way. $50 for dinner and a movie once every 6 months? nope, could never do it. I regret that the most.

Try to ignore the haters, they have no clue...

And this is exactly the point I wanted to make in this morning's post.  There may very well be talk out there in the blogosphere about self-care in terms of respite, or taking time to do things one finds rewarding and satisfying, but there's very little talk out there about financial self-preservation.  Many parents feel, rightly or wrongly, that they should do everything possible for their children, even if it means destroying the family finances in the process.

In our family, we've come to financial crossroads a number of times.  We came to one when the county fought to remove our daughter, before her adoption was finalized.  We came together as an extended family, decided to fight, and spent tens of thousands of dollars in doing so.  We did this because Danielle said this is what she wanted.

Later, when her behavior completely cratered, we again came together as an extended family and scraped up the money to send her to a summer-long boot camp program.  We thought it would help her, since all the other interventions we'd done previously had failed.  We had taken dozens of hours of parenting classes, we'd gone to countless hours of individual and family therapy, and Danielle herself had worked her way through five or six different professionals and para-professionals, with no real, measurable, or lasting improvement in her behavior.

So this summer, when my wife and I found ourselves with a big financial choice ahead of us, we made the decision to go with what would make us happier.  We have made the decision not to incur additional debt in more attempts to "help" or "cure" Danielle.  Instead, we are making choices to fund our retirement and savings accounts, pay off our outstanding debts, and keep our credit cards paid off each month.

No doubt there are some people out there who will find us selfish for not sacrificing our own happiness and financial security in a futile bid to "save" our child.  Unfortunately, I think the sad reality is that she is who she is, and there's only so much healing she's going to be able to do right now.  I think she may do more once age, maturity and the school of hard knocks known as life, instruct her in ways that no parent, no counselor and no schoolteacher can do.

At this point, I know we have roughly two and a quarter years left until our child turns 18.  She's told us, hundreds, if not thousands, of times that she plans to move out the day she becomes an adult, so that she doesn't have to live with us, and our miserable, demanding, and unfair rules.

I can't fight that.  I'm not going to try and sit down with her when she's raging and offer her a bowl of candy to make things better.  Because honestly, knowing her as well as I do, that bowl would probably end up tossed across the room and I'd just as likely end up with her fist in my eye.

I realize that my kid, her problems, and our relationship can't really be "fixed" in any meaningful way.  So yes, I still owe her the duty of doing the best that I can for her, within reason.  That means that we aren't going to sacrifice everything for her, and we are especially not going to sacrifice our financial future.

Could we go $50,000 into debt and send our troubled, adopted child to a private RTC for a year?  Sure, we could.  However, I'm not convinced that it would truly help her, and certainly the financial stress of carrying that amount of debt in an unstable economy, combined with the negative impact it would have on our future retirement plans, won't make things better, for us as a couple, us as a family, or Danielle as an individual.

So sometimes, we parents just need to put ourselves first, especially when it comes to financial decisions.

At this point, we've made the decision to put ourselves first on the financial totem pole.  Our retirement, savings, and bills come first, because we know in just over two years Danielle will be calling the shots for her life anyway.  We are making decisions that will ensure our financial future, and by doing so, we'll be more likely to be  relaxed, less stressed, and better capable of dealing with the regular side trips to Crazy Town that our child routinely seems to make.

In ten years, will I regret focusing our financial resources on my wife and myself?

Probably not.

At this point, I'm not sure that throwing more and more money at Danielle is really going to help her.  I fear that she will never get better, but if she does, I think it's only going to come at the expense of bitter life lessons that come from the school of hard knocks.

Yesterday, Paula wrote:

Yesterday afternoon I had a long talk with one of my adult sons. He and I had our fair share of disagreements when he was in his teens, but he's turned out to be a pretty intelligent young man and is making wise decisions now. Unfortunately for him, he is also having to live with some very severe consequences from some of the foolish choices he made when he was younger. He's not whining or complaining about these consequences at all. He knows they are a direct result of his actions. As we talked I asked him if he remembered the warnings I'd given him. He did. I asked him if he remembered when I told him what the consequences would be if he didn't heed them. Again, he said yes. I asked him why in the world he didn't listen and obey then. His conclusion was that he just doesn't think that kids truly realize what they are doing and how it will affect them in the long run. I told him that's why God gave kids parents. They KNOW. They have gone before and been kids and now have an adult perspective.

With so many things in life, there are two ways to learn: the easy way, or the hard way.  Sadly, I think for so many of our kids, it's life's hard lessons that are truly the memorable teachers.  I've come to the realization that much of what we do for Danielle is really futile.  Telling her, showing her, counseling her, and teaching her isn't going to spare her from life's ugly lessons, because she simply can't or won't listen to us right now.

So, rather than futilely throw thousands of dollars more at ineffective therapies and cures, I think our money is better spent on things we all can enjoy now, and focus on our financial future that will be coming once our nest is empty.

I have a hard time being optimistic for my child's future anymore.  Her struggles, her pain, and the emotional, psychological and educational damage that has been done to her may very well be an intractable problem.  I realize that I am not capable of fixing her, as much as I might have liked to do so.  Since I cannot guarantee her future or her happiness, the best I can do is to take steps that will ensure mine.

Sometimes, when one is faced with a no-win situation, it's best to cut everyone's losses. Danielle has made her feelings absolutely clear, and I think continuing to try and pretend we are a "real" family (whatever that is) is only going to set us all up for more disappointment.  She has made it clear that she doesn't want to be around either of us (she is just as spiteful to my wife as she is to me) and that once she is an adult, she's going to leave and never look back.

There's an old saying that I think applies here:

When you find yourself standing at the bottom of a hole, stop digging.

I think it's time for us to put away our shovels, and focus on the things that will maximize health, happiness and security for my wife and me.

And perhaps, just perhaps, that happiness might rub off on our child.

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As an added footnote, I should probably say that I'm not advocating that parents never spend money on their needy children. I'm just saying that it's important we strike a balance.  If a therapy, treatment or medication helps, then it is probably worthwhile.  I just think, especially for those of us parenting kids who aren't being helped by whatever interventions are available, that we need to strike a balance between providing continued treatment that has been proven ineffective, and bankrupting a family's financial future.

The bottom line is that parents need to take care of themselves and their children.

Self Care - Part II

I've had a lot going on in my personal life for the past couple of weeks, which explains the dearth of posting and my failure to get my series on self-care written last week as I had planned.

Most of what's been going on is good stuff, though it has resulted in a lot of unplanned scurrying around.  We had a big change at our house, but I'm going to refrain from sharing the details, because frankly I'm kind of tired of anonymous commenters criticizing my decisions.  It just gets old, sometimes.

Just over a week ago, my wife and I made a decision that will allow us to spend more time doing something that we love to do.  We made the decision to support our need for self-care.  I'm not going to share details, because I'm tired of people telling me I'm a bad parent because I choose to spend my time, money and resources on x, instead of y, but I will say that what we did is a good thing for us as a couple.

And maybe, just maybe, it will enable us to create some good family memories over the next couple of years before our child turns 18.  Or maybe it won't.  Maybe our kid will dive in and enjoy the opportunity for what it is, and maybe she won't.  If she doesn't, I'm not sure what difference it will make. If she is prone to being surly, sullen, grumpy and unhappy at home, why not allow her to be surly, sullen, grumpy and unhappy while we are doing something that we truly love?

I'm sure there will be plenty of people out there who will criticize my decision.  I guess the reality is that there are people out there who will criticize everything we do, even though they have never met us and haven't walked in our shoes.  Maybe that is just the reality of the Internet and the sad downside to blogging.

Corey, over at Watching the Waters, recently posted some criticism she received from our favorite nasty, Anonymous, and what was written there is pretty much the same B.S. I see over here on a regular basis.  It gets pretty old receiving the same tired, worn-out criticisms and being called a bad parent, when I opt not to battle my kid over trivia, or I don't give her something she wants because her behavior hasn't been good enough to warrant it.  It's pretty obnoxious when the person who is griping doesn't understand the context of the situation, and often hasn't bothered to read the entire post.

It's boring, and it often saps the motivation to blog right out of me.

Okay, fine, there's some of you out there who think my wife and I are crappy parents.  We hear it.  We get it.  Move along.

But the reality is that I know that I function better as a parent when I put my needs first. If I'm rested, content, and mostly happy with my lot in life, then I am much more capable of responding better to all of the crazy-making things my kid does.

So I think that one of the things adoptive parents must realize is that there are times when the financial resources must go to the parents, instead of the children.  Yes there's a balancing act, because some of the sickest children need expensive services, medical care, therapy or medications that are not covered by insurance.  There comes a point, though, where you have to ask yourself the following question:

Will spending money on y really make a lasting difference for my child?

If the answer is no, or maybe, perhaps it's time for a reallocation of resources.  Even if the answer is yes, parents need to ask themselves if the long-term consequences for the decision are healthy.  If spending huge amounts of money on a child's needs will bankrupt the family or empty out a couple's retirement fund, maybe it's not the thing to do.

Helping our children is important, most definitely.  However, ensuring our own future is equally  important.

For most parents, a day will come when their children no longer live at home.  It's important for us to plan for our health, welfare, and financial stability when that time comes.

So that is why we made the decision that we did.

Self Care - Part I

For the past several weeks, I've been pondering the post Brenda, The Adoption Counselor, wrote about self-care.  I've been thinking about it a great deal, especially since I've realized that my wife and I are not always good at doing things that meet this very important need.

I've been thinking about this topic so much, that I've decided to write a series on it.  This week's posts will be dedicated exclusively to the subject of self-care.

Before I get into some of the particulars of self-care, it's probably worth discussing exactly why it is so important.  I know a lot of parents who give and give and give to their children, and they end up exhausting themselves and having nothing left.  Even though they might agree that their living situation isn't really comfortable, livable or sustainable, they keep doing it because they feel they must.  They feel that it's unreasonably selfish to meet their own needs first, because their children's needs are more important.

I disagree.  Although taking care of one's children is important, taking care of yourself first is more important.

It boils down to one important fact: 

If you are too exhausted, too stressed out, and too burned out to function decently, you aren't going to be able to do a decent job of meeting your children's needs. 

If you are parenting a special-needs child, taking care of yourself is even more important, because you can't give what you don't have.

When you ride on an airplane, the flight attendant will always give you the same instructions:

In the event of cabin depressurization, oxygen masks will pop out of the ceiling.  Put your own mask on first before assisting others.

Put your own mask on first. That's an important analogy for living life with special needs kids.  If you are taking good care of yourself -- eating right, sleeping enough, getting exercise, and taking time to meet your own needs -- you'll have much more physical and emotional energy to do the things your child needs.  If you are taking care of yourself, you'll have the ability to also meet the needs of everyone else who relies on you, including your spouse, employer, extended family and other children.

Take care of yourself first.  You are the only you that you have.  If you destroy yourself in the process of taking care of everyone else, eventually you will find yourself in the position of not being able to take care of them either.

Although there are folks out there in the world who will tell you otherwise, there really is no glory in martyrdom.  This is especially true with some of our more damaged special-needs kids, because what we do might not make a long-term difference.  For some children, prenatal exposure to alcohol and drugs, a familial history of mental illness or intellectual disability, or the weight of abuse and neglect that they received during their most crucial formative years, will forever alter the course of their lives.  What we do might not make a long-term difference in their adulthood.  Even with the best parenting, some of these children aren't going to do well.

So we have to do all that we can to help them, but we need to take care  of ourselves so that we can.

Because the reality is, at least for the majority of parents who are caring for special-needs children, that these kids will eventually leave.  Some kids may end up blowing up and ending up in residential treatment centers or jail, while others will navigate the tumultuous waters of adolescence and move out when they reach the age of majority.

So, with few exceptions, those kids are going to leave, and we parents will still have to live what's left of our lives.

If we've neglected our emotional, physical and spiritual health, we've not only shortchanged our children, but we've also created lasting health and emotional consequences for ourselves.

So we must, no matter how difficult or unreasonable it seems, find a way to carve out a space for self-care.

Suspicion

While we were away on vacation, some friends of ours had to take their children to the hospital. I won't go into specific details, because their story is not mine to tell, but I'd like to comment on the reaction of the hospital's emergency room staff.

When the kids were brought in, the ER staff carefully questioned the parents about what had led to their visit that day. The staff repeatedly questioned my friends, as if they were trying to find some inconsistency in their story. They would ask leading questions such as "Now let me make sure I understand this, x happened, right?" when in fact they had been told, several times, that y was the reason for the visit.

After the parents had been questioned several times, staffers started the same line of questioning on my wife, my kid and me.  At least to me, it felt more like a police interrogation than nursing staff trying to find the answer to important medical questions.

Although the kids did get the necessary medical care they needed, I couldn't help but feel as if my friends were treated with a certain amount of suspicion.  I'm sure it didn't help that we were all wearing old clothes and were muddy and smelly from camping in inclement weather.

The nature of what happened was clearly accidental, and I don't see how any hospital staffer could have interpreted events any other way.  Small children often lack common sense, and they can do stupid things they shouldn't do in a matter of seconds, even if an adult is standing right by.

It felt really bad to watch my friends treated with such suspicion. 

So, How Was Your Vacation?

Sometimes, I find myself in a quandary about what to write about in my blog.  I'd like to share the details about my vacation, but given the fact that it's clear that at least some of my blog stalkers are back, I'm not sure I should share much in the way of details.  Even if I didn't have concerns about revealing too much identifying information, I think some of my critics would think that I was bragging or showing off, and accuse me of further abusing my child by doing the things I wanted to do on vacation, instead of booking airline tickets, renting a car, and spending a week at the nearest Disney theme park.

So without going into too many specifics, I'm going to share a few bits about our vacation:

• We went camping at a somewhat local campground.
  
  
• The weather was not as nice as we would have liked, but a bad day camping is better than a good day doing almost anything else.  Everything we have came home unusually filthy.
  
  
• To our surprise, the kid behaved better than she has on any other camping trip.  It's unclear why, though I'm hoping that interventions with the crisis counselor may be helping.  Her worst behavior appeared after one of her friends arrived to spend a few days with us.
  
  
• The friend ended up going home a day early, not because of our kid's behavior, but because she wasn't having fun (choosing to go camping when one is sick is generally a bad idea) and called home begging for a ride.  The adult who came to pick her up was not pleased.
  
  
• It turned out that the friend's departure was a blessing in disguise, because an emergency popped up a few hours later that resulted in a mad dash to the nearest hospital. (The emergency didn't involve anyone in our family, and everyone who was involved is now fine.)

Some things I learned this trip:

• My big truck can go scary fast.
  
  
• I am mean because I won't allow a pair of teenagers to spend the entire day inside my RV, especially when we have a perfectly good enclosed and heated screen room outside.
  
  
• I am extra-special mean because I insist all teenagers who are not helping with meal preparation go outside when I'm trying to use my tiny galley (kitchen) to make dinner.
  
  
• I am extra-special, double-trouble, quadruple-whammy mean because I do not allow non-helping teenagers to sleep in when other adults in our group are waiting for breakfast, especially when I need the dinette table, which the kids were sleeping on, for a meal-preparation area because there is no counter space in our RV*.
  
  
• Jumbo marshmallows, in my opinion, are not as good as the regular-sized ones.
  
  
• I can tow and back up a 30' trailer without wrecking it.
  
  
• Sleeping in a car, parked at a gas station, in the middle of the night, with a friend, because you are too tired to drive another mile, is just as fun as it used to be.
  
  
• Even the most boring of vacations can turn into an interesting adventure.

I had a great time.

 ---
* Said teenagers had the option of sleeping in a tent, where they wouldn't have been disturbed by our need to do something as trivial as meal preparation.

Technology Diet

I've received a number of concerned e-mails and comments from folks asking if we are okay, since I haven't posted anything in more than a week.

I've been on a technology diet while on vacation, so that explains my absence and lack of communication.  I had every intention of pre-writing a list of posts to go up while I was gone, but work got crazy, packing didn't happen until the last minute, and I didn't manage to write anything in advance.

One of the last posts I read on The Adoption Counselor spoke about the importance of self-care, and I've spent a lot of time doing things that meet my needs for rest, relaxation and self-care.  As I spent many days sitting under the shade of a tree, watching the sun rise and set with nothing to do but tend the fire, roast marshmallows, and grill steaks, I've been thinking a lot about things that I need to do to take care of myself..

So that series is coming soon.

For now though, I have work to catch up on, and a giant heap of muddy clothes, shoes, and camping gear that needs a friendly visit from a garden hose.

So all is well.

US Supreme Court Decides Camreta v. Green

FosterEema here with a legal update posting occasioned by a US Supreme Court decision issued yesterday morning. You may recall I previously wrote about Camreta v. Green, and I made a second post predicting what I thought the Supreme Court might do. So, what did the Supreme Court decide?

Yesterdays's decision, which you can read on the Court's web site (PDF), reached three conclusions. I'll share them all, even though only the first is only likely of interest to Constitutional Law geeks like me:

1. The fact that a government official "wins" a case by virtue of qualified immunity does not deny that official Article III standing to seek appellate review of the underlying Constitutional issue in the case.
2. In this case, the appeal is moot because the minor has left the State of Oregon and will soon turn 18, ensuring that she can never again be the subject of an Oregon social services investigation. Therefore, the appeal should be dismissed as moot.
3. Because the subsequent events (S.G. growing up and moving to Florida) render the case moot, the 9th Circuit's Constitutional decision has essentially become unreviewable. Since the Supreme Court's general practice is that no foundational Constitutional principle should be established "by default", the 9th Circuit's decision on the 4th Amendment issue is vacated pursuant to United States v. Munsingwear.

This is (mostly) the outcome I predicted, but let me take a minute to re-state for everyone what the practical effects of this decision are.

As a practical matter, the Ninth Circuit's holding (that search warrants are required when social services workers and police officers interview a child in a school setting*) is no longer valid law. Camreta v. Green can not be cited in any other case in support of that proposed rule, and CWS workers need not assume they will always need a search warrant in this context. Since the issue remains undecided, qualified immunity may be a defense to future Constitutional claims against social workers under the Fourth Amendment. The law as it now stands is, for all intents and purposes, as it was before Camreta v. Green was decided.

However, this statement carries with it a caution for child welfare professionals. Because the Supreme Court decided the case on mootness grounds, they did so without actually considering the Constitutional issue of when a search warrant is or is not required. For this reason, while social workers need not assume they always need a search warrant to conduct a custodial interview of a child in a school setting, neither can they safely assume that a search warrant is never required. It could well be, in some future case where the appeal is not frustrated by mootness, that the Supreme Court will rule that search warrants are required in this context.

My suspicion (and, I must admit, my hope) is that social services agencies will decide that obtaining a search warrant is cheaper than fighting yet another legal battle like the one Camreta and his employer fought here. In true exigent circumstances, of course, a warrant is not required. But I've always felt the idea that any child welfare investigation automatically constitutes exigent circumstances for the purposes of the Fourth Amendment is absolute nonsense. It remains to be seen, of course, whether the Supreme Court will ultimately agree with me, but I hope they do.

At the end of the day, we're back to where we were before this case was decided: The answer to the question "do social workers require search warrants to talk to a child in school?" is a very clear and unequivocal "who the heck knows?"

---
* This case only reaches the Fourth Amendment issue in the context of an interview conducted in a school. In a prior case, Calabretta v. Floyd, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals decided that (at least within the states of AZ, CA, NV, ID, MT, OR, WA, AK, HI and the Northern Mariana Islands) a search warrant was required to conduct a forced interview and search of a child in the context of the family's home. This decision was never appealed to the Supreme Court, so it remains binding law within the Ninth Circuit's jurisdiction.

Is Anyone Having Trouble with Mobile Browsers?

A quick administrative note here...

I received an e-mail this morning from a reader who told me she isn't able to view my blog with an iPad.  Specifically, the page displays for a moment, and then her screen goes blank.

I've checked the blog with several mobile devices, and I'm not able to replicate the issue.

Is anyone else having a similar problem with a mobile device?

If you are having trouble, please shoot me a private e-mail.  I'd like to solve this problem, if I can.

Economics Determine a Child's Future

Last Tuesday, GB's Mom wrote about how a child's future is often determined by economics, even though it shouldn't. In her post, she wrote:

Economics should never determine a child's future. Society has an obligation to provide what each child needs.

Although I agree with this statement in principle, I think making this a reality is somewhat impossible.  I've been arguing, almost from day one, that if the child welfare system is going to remove children from their birth families, then the system owes them all the services and supports they need to be successful.  This money should come from the system, not the individual foster or adoptive parents who care for these kids, as may of these children have needs that far exceed the financial abilities of most average, middle class families.

Even if a family has the ability to pay, finding the right services can often be difficult, if not impossible.  Not all communities have excellent (or even good) mental health care providers.  Not all communities have the necessary supports for children with physical, emotional or developmental disabilities.

Perhaps some would argue that these families should have thought about that problem before they adopted, but the truth is that often there isn't a reliable way to predict what a child will need until the adoption is finalized, and it's far too late for the family to back out.

The sad reality is, a child's future is limited by the economic means of her parents.  Even when a child hasn't been taken into foster care, her future is often determined by economic circumstance.  Poor students often do not have access to institutions of higher learning, due to their inability to pay, while wealthier students enjoy that privilege.

The economic differences aren't just limited to whether or not a child will go to college.  If a low-income child struggles in school, her family will have to be content with whatever tutoring and special-education services her district can provide.  Wealthier students, on the other hand, can be sent to private tutors, or even special boarding schools for kids with educational difficulties.

Bottom line, the services a child will receive have a lot to do with not only the parents' economic situation, but the community's as well.  If a family lives in a well-to-do area, the chances of the schools having better funding and more resources are much higher.  And too, a lot can depend on the willingness and ability of a family to secure and service debt to pay for treatments that can't be paid for in cash.

Although I think the goal of providing publicly-funded services to every child in need is laudable, I think that making it a reality is impractical.  Although the public might agree with the idea that every child should receive the services he or she needs, when it translates into higher taxes, people balk.  Most middle-class folks object to paying higher taxes to fund programs from which they do not personally benefit.

Without money, programs to provide services to troubled and traumatized children simply can't exist.

Although I'm not one to argue in favor of conspiracy theories, I have wondered why all of a sudden there seems to be such a push to get kids taken into foster care and then ultimately adopted.  Is it because it's better for the children?  I'd argue that, in some cases, it's not.  Although there are cases where a removal is necessary, there are many cases where the removal is questionable.  Could  it be that the huge push to remove kids from arguably neglectful situations is simply a cost-shifting strategy?  If a child is placed in a foster or adoptive home that makes "too much money" to qualify for publicly-funded services, doesn't the state save money by not having to pay for those services?

It's an interesting question, anyway.

More on the Physical Costs of Special Needs Adoption

In response to The Costs of Special Needs Adoption - Part IV, marythemom wrote:

Physical costs:

1. I've gotten shingles twice.

2. High stress, lowers your body's resistance/ immune system so I get sick more often (and can't afford to take the time to completely heal).

3. Scars from bites and fingernails (infected).

4. Sore muscles from the physical strain of physical restraints and holding my body stiffly due to tension.

5. Weight- RAD parents typically gain 20lbs a year - we eat to replace the love we don't get from the kids. 70+lbs. *sigh*

6. Mental health - I have mild bipolar, but only need medication when I'm under high stress... guess when I had to go on meds.

7. To try to get everything done, and probably partly as a symptom of my bipolar, I rarely sleep anymore. I stay up till the wee hours of the morning, reading blogs and other support groups, or just playing solitaire type games to destress.

8. I never go to the doctor anymore. Partly because I don't have time, but also because we don't have health insurance, because I can't get a job, because I'm home all day supervising two special needs kids.

9. And so on...

I would have included Mary's comment in my previous post, but for the fact that I'd already gone to bed when it came it.  She's absolutely spot-on with this list, and I can't really elaborate any further on what she has to say.

I absolutely understand the debilitating affects that stress and lack of sleep have on a body, and how absolutely tired my wife and I feel nearly all the time.

Thank you for sharing your list, Mary.  You are absolutely right.

The Costs of Special Needs Adoption - Part V

This week, I've focused on writing about the various costs associated with special needs fostering and adoption. So far, I've addressed the financial, social, emotional and physical costs. While I have been writing my series, Carrie over at Days of Wonder and Grace has written about the unforeseen costs of International adoption, and how adoptions can impact family income.

If you haven't stopped by Carrie's blog, please do so. Since she's writing from the perspective of International adoption, she's thought of a few things that I didn't consider.

So for today's post, and the wrap-up for this series, I'd like to revisit some of the comments that I've received.

In response to Part I, Barb in No. WI wrote:

Regarding the subsidies: We were not even told about the subsidies while going through the adoption process. We would have gone through with it regardless, but that should have been standard information. WE had to teach the social worker about it, once we found out. I'm grateful we have it, particularly the medical care.

Really looking forward to what you have to say about social costs. For us, that's been even more "expensive" that the things with a price tag. 

And Baggage said:

My daughter qualified for a behavioral subsidy but nobody told me that until I figured it out a couple of years later. The missing work thing is a big one. I worked from home when I was actively fostering, I don't think that I could do it now with a full time job. Even now, I miss a lot of work to deal with "crisis" calls from my oldest. Another possible cost is to meet the household regulations, different places have strange regulations and I've known people who have had to spend a lot of money on fences or renovations to the house because of procedural issues. 

As Barb and Baggage both pointed out, it's not uncommon for adoptive families not to know about the adoption subsidies that are available when they adopt special-needs kids.  I'm not sure why this happens so often, whether it's because the state is simply trying to save money and "forgets" about this resource, or if workers in other areas are so used to adopting out healthy, white infants who aren't eligible for the subsidies that it slips through the cracks.

In any case, for those interested, here's more information about adoption assistance subsidies.

In response to Part II, Lisa replied:

You nailed it! The undermining of our parental authority was/is astonishing. I am constantly amazed at the lengths even strangers will go to to make my child happy - at the cost of well, EVERYTHING. I resent the person for intruding and acting like they know my child (hint - nobody REALLY knows the kid besides the parents). I resent my child for putting me in this position where I look hostile and unreasonable.

I have grieved for lost friends, family members and lack of support from our community at large.

I think that people tend to believe the worst when it comes to adoptive/foster parents. When there are constant complaints from the child, the other adults take the stance of, "where there's smoke, there's fire" - no matter what the facts are.

Frankly, I find the cost a bit too steep.

 As I mentioned in my post, I think the social costs are often more "expensive" than some of the financial, emotional and physical costs we pay as parents.  Lisa is absolutely spot-on when she says people like to believe the worst of foster and adoptive parents, especially when there are constant complaints from the child.  People do assume "where there's smoke, there's fire," even in the case where a child has been proven to tell false tales.

I know many families, ours included, that have gone through the pain of investigations that were sparked, in whole or in part, by false allegations made by a child.

In response to Part III, Tara - SanitySrchr wrote:

I can definitely see where the emotional toll is brutal. I know how hard it was to just go through the process to get licensed. It was a flurry of excitement and defeat and excitement once more that ended in an explosion equivalent to that of a nuclear bomb. It's a complicated ordeal to foster and/or adopt.

I think to some extent parenting any child can be somewhat of a roller coaster ride. I think for those of us parenting special needs kids, though, that ride can be way more extreme than the typical ups and downs of parenthood.  Most parents of "typical" children don't regularly deal with rages that last for hours, threats of physical violence, theft or property damage.

Averagethinkagain said:

The emotional cost on those of us with children who are from the system or not ours biologically is greater than many people can imagine or want to imagine.

Our son was so far behind educationally when we got him that it was scary. Getting him on track educationally requires me to stay at home and homeschool him (the schools in our area are nothing to brag about), and slowly guide him along.

Financially, it costs us more than we could imagine. He qualifies for insurance through the state due to his emotional/mental health needs, but little else.

Mentally? Some days it's draining. Some days it's not. It's a coin toss.

Emotionally? Some days I want to cry, especially when he rages. Some days I think he can help it, other days I wonder if he could help it if he tried. I just don't know.

His birth family. His biological mom causes many of his rages, and is a trigger. She calls non-stop, then she doesn't call for weeks. When she does call, he feels like the main reason she calls is to interrogate him regarding us (The Parents). No one in his family even bothered to call him this year to wish him a happy birthday for christ sakes.

At the end of the day though, they are just our kids (we have two). They may not be ours biologically, but we try not to look at them that way. We love them, and that's that.

For those who judge us based on how we see things, or how our children effect us... Until they walk a day in our shoes and actually experience the child(ren) we have in our homes first hand (and not go just off a rant, a release, a post, or whatever), I really think they need to keep their mouths shut.

"Until they walk a day in our shoes..."  I think this is a hugely important thing to keep in mind.  It's very easy to believe, after reading some of the war stories from people who are parenting special needs kids, that one could somehow do better in similar circumstances.  One of the first blogs I read was authored by a parent who had children suffering from FASD.  I had a hard time believing that kids could possibly do some of the things those kids did.

But now, I know better.

They absolutely can do the crazy things foster and adoptive parents blog about, and it is unbelievably difficult to live with.  It's easy for outsiders to criticize, and a lot harder for them to offer a struggling family any meaningful, real help.

This concludes my series wrap-up (there were no comments on part IV) on on the costs of special needs adoption.  What I'd like people to take away from this series is that it's very easy to go into a special needs adoption wearing rose-colored glasses.  People like to believe in happy endings, and don't always realize the full extent of a child's needs.  That problem can be made worse by social workers who don't always accurately or completely reveal the depth or breadth of a child's needs.

Even when a child's needs are known, life has a way of creating surprises.  Sometimes kids do much better than predicted, while others do much, much worse.  I think the most important thing any family can do is to go into this process with eyes wide open.  It's very easy to get caught up in wanting to do the right thing, only to realize later that perhaps one's good intentions have created a less-than-desirable end for everyone.

The Costs of Special Needs Adoption - Part IV

This week I've written about the financial, social and emotional costs of special needs adoption.  In today's installment, I'm going to talk about some of the physical costs, which are often completely overlooked.

There are four ways special needs children can take a physical toll on parents.  The first, and probably the most obvious, is the toll one pays dealing with a child's schedule.  The constant shuffling between psychiatric, educational, medical and dental appointments can wear a parent out.  I remember at one point we had thirteen meetings a week scheduled for our child, including the extra-curricular activities that were supposed to be "fun."

We were exhausted.  Trying to juggle our child's schedule, our work, and our own personal needs was impossible, so our needs fell to the bottom of the stack as our work and our child took priority over everything else.  The word tired didn't even come close, and the first year after we became foster parents we were sick with every cold and flu bug that our kid brought home from school.

The second physical price parents of special needs kids can pay is when they have to manage a child's troubling behavior.  If a family struggles with a child's emotional or behavioral problems, the inevitable emotional roller coaster that goes with it can be exhausting.  Keeping one's emotions in check, trying to stick to therapeutic parenting techniques, and managing one's own hurt, fear and disappointment can wear out even the most determined parent.  Although the behaviors themselves can be emotionally wearing to the point of causing physical exhaustion, physically dealing with them can be tiring as well.  If a child's behaviors are severe enough, one might find themselves in the position of having to give restraint, or defend against a physical attack.

The third physical cost is that which is created by simply caring for the child.  This is especially true when one cares for a child with a physical disability.  Children who require mobility assistance, diaper changes, or help bathing and dressing don't stop growing.  A kid who is easy to lift and move around when he is five can become just as large and heavy as an adult by the time he is a teenager.

Having done physical home health care back in my late 20's for a man with cerebral palsy, I can attest to the fact that this type of care can be very physically demanding.  At the time, I was young and strong, and I found creative ways to get him in and out of the bathtub without a lift, or off the floor without help.  The job was made more difficult because there wasn't funding for another aide, so I never got a break.  I worked for this gentleman, day after day, week after week, month after month, with no days off.  After a while, I started to develop chronic back pain, which numerous visits to the chiropractor didn't help.  Eventually, the daily stresses of caring for him became too much.  I had to quit.

Parents don't have the option of quitting. 

Finally, caring for special needs can be especially stressful, and stress can create a huge physical toll in and of itself.  Stress can cause a variety of physical and emotional ailments, and dealing with it 24/7 with little or no respite can wipe a body out.

The reality too, especially for the kids with higher needs, is that it's very hard to separate out all the different costs that parents might pay for their special needs children.  Financial and social difficulties can lead to a parent's emotional struggles, stress, and physical illnesses.  Even more troubling is that there really isn't a way to predict ahead of time what a child's needs might be. 

For those that want to take on special-needs kids, I strongly suggest that you do it while you are still relatively young and strong.  It's much easier to deal with the financial, social, emotional and physical challenges earlier in life because there's more years ahead during which you can bounce back.  It's much easier to deal with a financial crisis when you have more earning years ahead, and it's much easier to deal with the social, emotional and physical challenges when your body and mind is more resilient.

Next up: Reader Comments

The Costs of Special Needs Adoption - Part III

Earlier this week, I wrote on the financial and social costs of special needs adoption.  Today, I am going to cover a topic that I find difficult to write about -- the emotional costs of special needs adoption.

For me, personally, the emotional price of our adoption has been far greater than the financial and social costs combined, though the three are closely tied together.

Sometimes, it can feel as though fostering or adopting special-needs children is like riding five separate roller coasters at the same time.  Each coaster peaks and valleys at different places along the track, and one can easily feel torn to pieces by the conflicting events and resulting emotions.

The first, and most obvious, roller coaster is the one parents ride as the case unfolds.  With any given child, cases can take any number of twists and turns.  If the child is placed as a foster child, parents rarely know how long he will remain in their home.  Will he remain through the holidays? for his birthday? through the end of the school year?  The uncertainty frequently creates an emotional wild ride, as families make plans, then cancel or reschedule them, based on the outcome of their child's case.

If reunification efforts are being made, even if a family is hoping for the child to return home, they are still difficult to watch.  Rarely the path to reunification is straightforward.  Birth parents are not always successful in jumping through the hoops laid before them.  Although it might seem easy for a birth parent to comply with the typical requirements to get sober, find a job, seek counseling, attend parenting classes and maintain appropriate and safe housing, it is rarely that straightforward*.  They try, fail, try again, and sometimes give up.  Social workers and courts give them more and more time, and the wait becomes frustrating for everyone.

It doesn't matter whether a family is hoping to adopt or hoping for reunification, because it's the not knowing that makes things emotionally difficult.  How do you plan your life not knowing whether you'll be packing up a child's belongings, or making a forever home, days, weeks, or months from now?

The second roller coaster is the one that follows the child's progress.  It doesn't matter if the child is considered special needs because of educational, behavioral, mental health, medical or orthopedic concerns, because the ride is the same.  Parents have to locate and fight for appropriate services, many of which are hard to find and even harder to fund.  Once the services are in place, parents often find themselves holding their breath as their child struggles through the maze of educational, behavioral, mental health and medical interventions which are not always successful.

The third roller coaster is the ride connected with a family's finances.  Although wealthy families can usually afford needed services, and low-income ones qualify for free programs, it is the middle class families who really suffer.  Parents wonder, worry and struggle to pay for programs and services for which they are "too rich" to qualify.  The stress of trying to secure funding or to manage insurmountable debt to pay for expensive interventions can be huge, since most middle class families don't have a vast bank account upon which they can draw.

The fourth roller coaster follows the emotional highs and lows that accompany the social costs of special needs children.  Professional relationships can be undermined, personal ones strained, and even marital relationships can implode under the sheer weight of a child's problems, if they are severe enough.  At the times when families need the most support, they can find themselves dealing with both the practical consequences of not having resources to fall back on, but the emotional ones as well.

Finally, the fifth roller coaster is the most difficult ride of all.  This is the one that follows the ups and downs of the child's emotional development and his relationship with his family.  If a foster or adoptive child has serious emotional, behavioral or mental health challenges, parenting him can often not be very much fun.  It can be incredibly difficult to like a child who rages, tantrums, damages one's home or property, or becomes violent.

Parents who find themselves struggling to like or bond with their foster or adopted kids can find themselves wrestling with an array of difficult emotions.  Society teaches that one should always like and love one's children, and parents who don't end up feeling guilty.  They may desperately want to like or love their child, but because of outbursts and negative behaviors, it can be incredibly difficult to build that bond.  Guilt and shame can make them feel like failures, and the grief of not having the family they had hoped to build can be overwhelming.

Speaking from my own personal experience, I have found the emotional costs of special needs adoption to have been the most difficult to bear.  I feel like our family has tried to do the right thing, only to realize that perhaps it wasn't the right thing to do after all.  We've tried to build a family, but more often than not it feels like we have failed. I am disappointed, not only for myself, but for my child as well.  It's clear that we all hoped that the adoption would have resulted in a happier ending than what we've seen.

And perhaps, with some of the emotional, mental health and behavioral challenges our child is facing,  the reality is that her ending simply can't be as happy as we'd like.  It's a bitter and disappointing realization to arrive at the conclusion that even if our child had been placed in the perfect family, she would still be struggling with educational, emotional and behavioral problems.  Her life was unnecessarily made hard, and it grieves me to no end.

Next up: The Physical Costs of Special Needs Adoption

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* And this assumes that the social workers are acting in good faith, which doesn't always happen.

Unforeseen Costs of International Special Needs Adoption

While I am writing my series on the costs associated with domestic special needs adoption, it seems my series has inspired Carrie, over at Days of Wonder and Grace, to write a similar series about the unforeseen costs of International special needs adoption.

Although I don't have any experience with International adoption, I thought Carrie's post had some valuable information, so I thought I should give her some linky love.

If you stop by, tell her you came by way of my blog, will you?

The Costs of Special Needs Adoption - Part II

Yesterday, I covered some of the financial costs that arise from fostering or adopting special needs children.  I had a number of really excellent comments, which I plan on writing about later in the series, so if you don't normally bother to read comments, it's worth backtracking and taking a second look at that post.

Today I am going to examine some of the social costs that come from fostering or adopting special needs kids.  For many families, this is the one area that can be hugely "expensive."  Although it's often  easy for people to say, "it's only money," when it comes to the extra financial expense of special needs adoptions, it's a much different thing to take a cavalier attitude about the relationships one has with friends, family, co-workers, and community members.

What makes the social costs so high is that most families do care what people think of them.  Although there's often an immediate social bonus when one mentions that one is a foster or adoptive parent ("you must be a saint for taking in those poor children") that social bonus can vanish once people discover that the children aren't the angels they assumed they would be.

Although it's absolutely unfair, parents are often judged by the way their children behave.  If their kids are rude, disrespectful, throw public tantrums, get in trouble at school or in the community, steal, lie, set fires, or are cruel to animals, outsiders frequently believe that these shortcomings are due to a failure in parenting.  Most people simply do not understand that these children were damaged before they were placed in their foster or adoptive home, and no amount of good parenting (at least in the short term) will fix all behavioral problems.  If a child has intellectual or mental health issues, there's no guarantee that those problems will ever be cured completely, if at all.

In addition to being judged by outsiders, parents often have to contend with well-meaning outsiders trying to give advice.  It's very common to find oneself on the receiving end of good-intentioned, but completely unhelpful, suggestions.  People will say things like, "that kid just needs a good spanking," "you are being too soft on the kid," or "you are being too hard on the kid, lighten up!"  They don't understand that just because discipline technique x worked on their kids, that it won't work equally well on a special needs child. (Parents of biological children with special needs, such as kids with Asperger's Syndrome, experience this too.)

Once confronted with not-so-helpful advice, parents often find themselves with several problems on their hands.  First, if the suggestion was made in front of the child, parental authority has been undermined by a well-intentioned outsider, and a control battle with the child can often ensue.  Even if the suggestion was not made in front of the child, the parent still has to find a graceful way not to accept the advice.  People don't always take kindly to rejection of their meant-to-be-helpful suggestions, which further increases the social costs for the parent.

Not only does one become a "bad" parent because one has unruly children, one becomes even worse for not following helpful advice.

If the disapproval of others and unsolicited "assvice" from strangers isn't difficult enough, one frequently has to deal with people who simply ignore one's parenting rules.  These well-meaning friends, extended family members, teachers or other professionals think that they know best, and try to treat the child as if they were "normal."  This type of undermining can come in the form of privileges or activities that a child isn't normally allowed, or in some cases, the breaking of a family's dietary rules.  It's easy for outsiders to let a child do (or eat) something "fun," when they fail to realize their actions could have an affect that lasts for days.

The trouble caused by people who undermine or ignore a family's rules is huge, but worse, it undermines whatever relationship might be in place.  The well-intentioned outsider feels resentment because the family is so strict and doesn't allow their child to have a "normal" childhood, and the parents feel resentful that their boundaries weren't respected.  Often, what were formerly strong familial and communal ties become strained, as the resentments and lack of understanding perpetuates the problems.

Unfortunately, the social costs that can come from special-needs children aren't just limited to what outsiders see.  Often, the problem is made worse by the children themselves.  The reality for most foster and adoptive parents is that it isn't a matter of if there will be a false allegation made, it's really a matter of when and what kind.  Even if a family is lucky enough to escape a child welfare investigation, a child's complaining about his or her foster or adoptive parents is enough to bring them down in the eyes of others.  People want to believe children, and they often forget that  kids, especially those coming from traumatic backgrounds, will lie.

It's not at all uncommon for children who have spent time in the foster care system to manipulate adults.  They will pit adults against each other in acts of deceit, manipulation and triangulation, and they'll sit back and watch the drama unfold.  They will create discord between parents, teachers and professionals, painting their parents as unreasonable, cruel or unfair.

And the outsiders believe them.

What's worse is that as the number of allegations (whether investigated or not, and whether substantiated or not) increases, outsiders start to wonder if there really is something wrong with the family in question.  Surely their child wouldn't complain so much or behave so badly if the parents were doing a good job.

Once one's reputation as a "bad parent" starts to circulate, it's only a matter of time before friends begin dropping off of one's social calendar.  Social contacts can dry up, respite providers disappear, and even trusted friends will sometimes find reasons not to return phone calls.

Eventually, a child's problems can reach the point where the social price ends up trickling down and affecting their social life as well.  Although the child may be charming and well-behaved with strangers, stories of the "nutbar" parents circulate, and the "good" parents stop allowing their kids to socialize with the children of the "bad" ones.

Once a family's social supports start to dissolve, couples find themselves in an increasingly difficult position.  Troubled children are often masters at pitting one parent against the other, and it's not uncommon for parents of special-needs kids to find themselves in conflict with each other, or even filing for divorce.

Now it's only fair to point out that these social costs (just like the financial ones I described yesterday) don't affect every family so severely that their entire social network collapses and they file for divorce.  However, it can and does happen, and people fail to consider the possibility ahead of time. I'm also not trying to say that you should never adopt a special needs kid.

Just know that, if you do, there can be consequences, they may be profound, and you need to be prepared.

Next up: The Emotional Costs of Special Needs Adoption

Administrative Note: Blogger Problems

Just a quick administrative note...

As I mentioned in Friday's post, Blogger has been having problems.  I've noticed a few other writers complaining about similar difficulties, so this problem hasn't been confined to just my blog.

FosterEema spent a few minutes researching the problem, and discovered that Blogger Buzz has reported they have been having problems since Wednesday.  As of Sunday (5/15), most of the problems should be resolved.

Unfortunately, just prior to Blogger having their problem, I was in the process of re-organizing some of my content.  The combination of my changes, plus Blogger's technical problems, caused a number of posts on the blog to disappear, reappear, and disappear again.  Not fully understanding at the time that my blog's difficulties were being caused by Blogger's malfunction, I went ahead and yanked everything except for the first two posts until I could figure out what was going on.

So, my apologies to those of you who are using feed readers, as I'm sure this has been especially confusing.

I do plan to republish my content for those who have been asking.  I'll be re-categorizing some of my posts, adding tags and cleaning up typos, so this will be a process that will unfold over the next few days and weeks.

Again, my apologies to those of you using feed readers.  Thank you for your patience, and I hope that Blogger's technical difficulties will be sorted out shortly.

The Costs of Special Needs Adoption - Part I

This week, I will be writing a short series about the costs involved in special needs fostering and adoption. Although many costs are pretty obvious, there are others that prospective foster and adoptive parents might not consider ahead of time. Some of these things we were made aware of before we started fostering, but many we didn't learn about until it was too late.

In today's post, I am going to discuss the financial impact of fostering or adopting special needs children. It is important to realize that kids, even one's own healthy biological children, can be costly. The costs involved in feeding and clothing a child can sometimes be surprising, even for the most thrifty and clever families. It is important to realize that the foster care and adoption assistance stipends offered in most states aren't enough to decently feed, house, and clothe your average kid. Subsidies are especially lacking for younger children, and generally aren't enough to keep the little ones in diapers or formula.

So, if one is planning to foster or adopt, one needs to be prepared for the fact that the subsidy money won't cover all out-of-pocket expenses. Although many parents may think they are prepared for this, sometimes they find themselves taken by surprise.

This problem can often seem worse when a child is first placed. It is not uncommon for kids to arrive with nothing more than the clothes on their backs, but initial clothing vouchers and stipends are often late in coming. For an unprepared foster family, this can create an unexpected burden on the family budget.

When one is parenting a special-needs child, there are often many costs that go far beyond what one would expect. Children with physical, intellectual, or emotional problems often can require an unexpected number of medical visits, therapies and other interventions, not all of which are fully covered by the provided state-sponsored or any private insurance the family might have. Although the more seriously affected kids might qualify for difficulty of care subsidies, even those aren't always enough to cover medical supplies, medications, insurance co-payments, respite, or the cost of residential care.

Although direct, out-of-pocket costs can often be unexpected, it is the hidden financial costs of fostering and adopting that can be a larger surprise. Prospective parents generally have an idea of the direct costs they will face when they foster or adopt, but they do not always realize that fostering or adopting special needs kids can have a big impact on a family's ability to earn an income.

The biggest impact a special-needs child can have on a family is in terms of scheduling. Many kids have multiple appointments per week, including trips to court, therapy, medical appointments, parent/teacher conferences and birth family visits. Most, if not all, of these appointments will need to be scheduled during business hours, and will require a parent to take time off from work. The number of appointments can seriously interfere with a parent's ability do his or her job, making it very difficult for a two-income or single-parent household to maintain its standard of living.

Even when one has an understanding boss, it still can be hard, especially if a parent is dealing with a child with emotional or behavioral problems. Bosses and clients tend to have a limit to the number of times they can expect sudden absences because of family crises. Once in a while can be forgiven, but woe to the employee who has an extremely difficult child.

Self-employment can help with this problem, but even that has limits. Most self-employed people still need to meet their customers' obligations. It can be very tough when one finds themselves participating in intensive in-home therapeutic interventions that can take up to as much as eight hours per week. It is extremely hard to keep up with work when one is running around from appointment to appointment, many of which can be emotionally exhausting.

In addition to interfering with one's ability to work, special-needs kids coming from overseas orphanages or the domestic foster care system frequently come bundled with emotional or behavioral problems. In addition to the expected costs of therapy and medications, it is not uncommon for kids to steal or deliberately destroy things of value. Parents do not expect to pay for serious damage done to their home by their children. Some kids will slash tires, punch holes in walls, shatter windows, break furniture, or deliberately urinate or defecate in places other than the toilet.

In some cases, not only will kids destroy a family's home, but they will do damage to the neighborhood as well. Parents can easily find themselves paying for damages to their own home, and for damages done to the property of others. Although foster parents often enjoy limited liability from the damages their troubled kids might do to others, they are rarely reimbursed for the damages their kids cause to their homes and property.

Part of the problem with fostering or adopting special needs children is that one rarely is given full information about a child to be able to properly plan for these costs. More often than not, a family doesn't realize the extent of a child's needs, and the costs associated with those needs, until they are already committed. By then, it can be too late, sometimes because an adoption has already been finalized, and sometimes because a disruption would be too painful for everyone involved.

Next up: The Social Costs of Special Needs Adoption

The Common Consensus Is...

First an administrative note: It seems Blogger has been having some difficulty, and I haven't been able to get in and manage content for a good chunk of the day.

Next up, it seems I've attracted the ire of a number of unhappy folks who have sent me some pretty nasty comments and have posted a few threats. Okay people, I get it. You don't like me.

Fine.

I'm sorry that you don't like me or what I have to say. I guess my question to you is this -- if you don't like me so much, and don't like what I have to say, why are you still reading my blog?

That being said, I thought I'd share what the consensus (at least among some of my readers) seems to be...

This video is NOT safe for work. Don't play it in front of the little ones, either.



Okay, fine. Everybody's voiced their opinion. I got it. Enough already.

Back to regularly-scheduled content next week.