The Cycle Won't Stop Here

Less than a week after Danielle left the state to go live with her biological family, she began texting FosterEema.

Danielle wanted to come home.  She claimed she had tried to make a go of it, but things just weren't working out.

Tired of Danielle's constant verbal abuse, threats, disrespect and disobedience, FosterEema politely replied that Danielle was free to do as she wished, but she would have to find somewhere else to live.  She also pointed out that a week was hardly enough time to really make a go of anything.

I won't go into all the details of the exchanged that followed.  As you can no doubt imagine, Danielle was pissed.

That very same day, Danielle posted a comment on a social media site complaining about what a terrible day it had been.  A few days later, she posted something that suggested she might be drinking.

Sigh.

Danielle has not contacted me.

More than anything, FosterEema and I wanted to stop the generational cycle of poverty, substance abuse and child neglect.  We wanted to make sure that Danielle was the last in her family to suffer.

I fear she has already started down the path so that the next generation will endure her fate as well.

Adoption professionals try to sell the idea of forever families and making a difference.  I'll say it's a compelling motivator.  Who doesn't want to make a positive difference in a child's life?  The idea becoming a happy forever family sounds really appealing. 

And, maybe it works out for some.

But there are some kids who are too broken, to damaged, for anyone to make a real difference in their lives.  

Did we make a difference?  Of course we did.  Still, in the larger scheme of things, I realize that we haven't broken the cycle.  

Failure or Success

I think most parents would be disappointed if their child withdrew from school on his or her 18th birthday.  Certainly that's not the future that we imagined, all those years ago, when we adopted Danielle.

Looking back, I can't remember what I had imagined for her.  Certainly when we started fostering and the extent of Danielle's problems weren't known, we had great hopes for her.  We figured she'd be able to catch up, graduate from high school, and eventually go on to college.

We hoped that we'd be able to break the generational cycle of abuse, neglect and unwanted children.

I fear we didn't make much of a difference, or at least not the difference we wanted to make.  We wanted to give her a successful life.  A high school diploma was just one step in that process.

Will she enroll in high school in her new city?  Unknown.  I don't know if I'll even hear from her.  When she arrived at her destination, we exchanged the following text messages:

Danielle: Made to XXXX
Me: Glad you are safe.  Good luck to you. :-)
Danielle: thank you

And that's the last I heard from her.

So in large measure, I feel as if we failed.  We wanted to "fix" Danielle.  We wanted to take her out of the impoverished and abusive life that she'd led for her first decade and give her something better.  We wanted to give her a leg up into the middle class.

We failed.

And yet, we did make a difference.  Granted, the difference we made was much smaller than we'd envisioned, but it was there just the same.

When Danielle came to live with us at almost 11 years old, she didn't know how to read.  She didn't know her alphabet.

I taught her to read.  I used a book called Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.  It was a great help.  Night after night we sat together and went over the lessons.  It worked.  In just over three months, Danielle went from being completely illiterate to being able to read Dr. Seuss.

That made a difference.

Wherever she goes and whatever she does in life, she will carry my gift with her.

We also managed to help her reach the age of 18 without any pregnancies.  By keeping her away from boys and insisting she receive an implantable contraceptive, we made a difference in her life.  While she's still starting out at a huge disadvantage by not having a high school diploma, at least she's not starting off even further behind by too-early motherhood.

That's something, too.

Now that Danielle has moved back with her biological family, I feel a mixture of sadness and relief.  I'm sad because we wanted so much more for Danielle.  We weren't the right family for her, and we never should have adopted her.  Given the choices available (adopt her or return her to foster care) we did what we thought was right.  We didn't get the help or resources we should have received.  We did our best, even though it wasn't good enough.

I'm sad too, because I don't believe that there was a mythical "perfect family" out there for her.  If we had given up, she would have gone back to foster care.  Just like her older biological half-sister, she would have bounced from home to home to home until she aged out.

I am also relieved.  Danielle will no longer be able to hit me or my former spouse.  She will no longer be able to damage my property or make violent threats without consequence.  I no longer have to live in fear of a child or sleep with my bedroom door locked.

Danielle's behavior didn't improve (as some suspected it would) after she and FosterEema moved out.  When I'd speak to FosterEema, she'd tell me, Danielle is Danielle.  Her pattern of disobedient, defiant, and disrespectful behavior continued.  She made threats of violence.  She began to ditch school. FosterEema (with her insurance from her new job) began seeing a counselor so she could better cope with the unbelievable stress.

In less than three months after they moved away, the situation became untenable.  Although Danielle completely believed that everything would be just perfect once I was out of the picture, she simply found a new person to combat.

I fear that it won't be long before she repeats that pattern with her birth family.

Even my extended family feels a huge sense of failure.  They all fought so very hard for Danielle.  My father paid many thousands of dollars in attorney's fees to help us fight to keep Danielle. My extended family invested their hearts and their time trying to help her, to bond with her, and to love her.

Danielle did the one thing that everyone wanted her to avoid.  She quit school.  She left without saying goodbye.

In the end, I think that Danielle was never our daughter.  Her heart, her mind and her soul always remained with her birth family.  We always knew that she would one day return to them.  We'd just hoped we'd be able to keep her long enough for her to finish high school.

While the so-called professionals love to sell the idea of a "forever family" to prospective foster and adoptive couples, I think the reality doesn't exist.  This is especially true with older child adoption where the kid knows, loves and misses his or her biological connections.

And perhaps, it is as it should be.

Danielle never should have been adopted.  We never should have been forced into the position of having to choose between adoption or sending her back to foster care.  Ideally, she should have remained in our care in a permanent fostering arrangement until her 18th birthday.  She should have received better mental health care and preparation for the day when she'd return to her family.

We did the best we could.  Danielle is out in the world and on her own.  Only time will tell whether her life will be a failure or a success.

18

It has been over a year since I posted here.

Today Danielle turned 18.

If there is anyone still hoping for updates on our story, here they are.

In July 2012, FosterEema asked for a divorce, though the reasons weren't what you would expect.  She decided that she would like to pursue relationships with men.  There was no infidelity, no affair, just a change in her orientation.

Last February, Danielle exploded.  She did considerable damage to the house and attacked us, injuring me.  She spent 21 days in juvenile detention, received some heavy duty counseling services (ones that we had requested and had been denied years before) and six months probation.

In April of this year, FosterEema and I signed a get, a document that grants a Jewish religious divorce.  We've delayed filing for civil divorce in order to to make the paperwork simpler and to maintain our health insurance.  Now that Danielle is an adult, I expect we will be filing soon.

We remained together as family, with FosterEema and I functioning as platonic roommates, until July of this year.  The original plan was for us to remain together until Danielle's 18th birthday, but FosterEema found a job in a neighboring county that required her to relocate.  Danielle moved with her, as I was afraid to be left alone with her.

Her challenging behavior continued after the move.

Danielle was scheduled to graduate from high school this coming June, but she has decided to withdraw.  Her biological half-brother, who lives in another state, has sent her a bus ticket.

While I'm happy that Danielle will finally get what she wants -- to be reunited with her birth family -- I fear this decision is not in her best interests.  I fear this move will prevent her from getting her high school diploma.

But of course she is an adult now, and she can make her own choices.

The Day I Confronted My Troll

The following excerpts come from an article that appeared on the UK's The Guardian.  It is a story about someone who dropped off Twitter because he began to receive threatening messages online.

Eventually, it escalated to in-person harassment.

I received a parcel at my home address. Nothing unusual there – I get lots of post. I ripped it open and there was a Tupperware lunchbox inside full of ashes. There was a note included, saying, "Say hello to your relatives from Auschwitz". I was physically sick.

I was petrified. They had my address. I reported it to the authorities and hoped for the best.

Two days later I opened my front door and there was a bunch of dead flowers with my wife's old Twitter username on it. Then that night I received a DM. "You'll get home some day & ur bitches throat will be cut & ur son will be gone."

The author ultimately managed to track down his troll. He turned out to be his friend's 17-year old son.

I put my hand on his shoulder and asked him: "Why?"

The Troll sat there for a moment and said "I don't know. I don't know. I'm sorry. It was like a game thing."

A game thing.

So, that's what it was...

Read the article.  It's pretty disturbing.

Lunch Triangulation

Ah, the ongoing saga of school lunches.

Yesterday, Danielle's teacher e-mailed to tell me that Danielle had gone to school for the second day in a row with no lunch and no money to buy lunch.  Danielle had reported she was tired and dizzy.  The teacher sought my input.

I replied with the obvious: Please remind Danielle that it is her responsibility to pack a lunch.

This morning, the teacher e-mailed me to say that she had already done that, several times, and that Danielle had given her the same answers (she had a lunch or she wasn't hungry) that she'd given us.

And then?

The teacher admitted she had loaned Danielle the money to buy lunch, but that she couldn't make a practice of it.

I didn't say this, but I thought to myself, Honey, you have just been had!

I told the teacher that I thought Danielle was simply trying to manipulate everyone (teacher/us) into buying her lunch at the school cafeteria.  I explained that it's far less expensive for Danielle to make use of the food we have available here than to spend $5/day on school lunches.

There is no shortage of food here at the house.  At almost 17 years old, we can't force Danielle to make use of the food that's available.

Sex and Lunch

This past weekend Danielle was involved in more drama.

I had been gone, spending the day with an old friend.  When I returned home, she met me out on the driveway to tell me that she had been "triggered" by something that had happened.

Here's the story as Danielle told it.  I'm not entirely sure of the tale's veracity, but here it is...

Danielle was spending the night with her friend.  On Saturday afternoon, Danielle, her friend, and her friend's boyfriend gathered in her friend's room.  Danielle decided to take a nap.  When she awoke, she opened her eyes to find her friend having intercourse with her boyfriend.

Now, to add a bit of context to this, Danielle's friend is two years younger.  She is also developmentally delayed.  The boyfriend is also a special education student.  There is also some question as to whether or not the kids used a condom.

Danielle could have put a stop to what was going on.  She could have told the girl's mother, as she knew her friend wasn't supposed to be having sex, especially given her age and cognitive disabilities.  The parents were home, but they have several other young children.  The house is noisy and chaotic enough that they could easily have missed the goings-on in the bedroom.

And of course, Danielle was in the room with the other two kids, so everyone would assume nothing untoward would happen, right?

Danielle sat on the news for 24 hours before telling us.

And, because the girl in question is two years under the magic age of 17, she must go to her doctor for a prescription for the morning after pill.

Danielle knew that what her friend was doing was unquestionably wrong.  I told her that by sitting by and doing nothing, it was the same as condoning the behavior.  I told her that I was angry, disappointed, and embarrassed that she didn't stop her friend and tell her mother immediately.  The girl's mother was in the next room when all this was happening.  She is, quite understandably, pretty distraught.

I suppose I shouldn't expect Danielle to make good decisions, so perhaps I shouldn't really be disappointed.  I just keep hoping, beyond hope, that she'll eventually get it and start making better choices.

* * * 

Today there was a little bit of drama coming from the school.  I received an e-mail from Danielle's teacher saying that today was the second day in a row that Danielle didn't bring a lunch or lunch money to school.  She said that Danielle was complaining of being dizzy and tired.

The teacher asked for our input.

I politely e-mailed back, explaining that Danielle is responsible for packing her own lunch.  I also mentioned that her lunch is frequently a control battle.  When we ask her about it, she usually tells us that either a) she already packed it, or b) she's not hungry and won't eat anyway.

I suggested that the teacher might want to remind Danielle that packing a lunch is her responsibility.  Given that lunch is such a control battle, I figured the reminder coming from her might be better received than it would be coming from us.

So that's what I said.

Here's what I thought:

Danielle is almost 17 years old.  She is perfectly capable of putting together her own lunch and I am just not going to engage in a control battle over this issue.  I suspect that the real truth is Danielle is trying to manipulate us into giving her a lunch card, which she's asked for several times.

I don't know if this is the case for all schools, but at Danielle's school the lunch card is essentially a credit card.  There are no spending limits.  A child can purchase as much as she likes, and at the end of the month, the parents get the bill.

Given that we have a kid who doesn't comply with doing her chores, who displays a bad attitude whenever possible, and who we can't trust to obey rules, I have only one answer when asked about a lunch card:

No, no, and hell no.

Pack a lunch, kid.

A Tearful Apology

Yesterday afternoon, Danielle called my stepmother to apologize for her lie.  She sobbed out her tearful apology, saying that she had made a mistake and had "misunderstood" something that we said.

My stepmother seemed pretty gracious in accepting the apology, but she did ask Danielle if it was really a misunderstanding, or if it was just a lie.

What did we say that Danielle claimed to misunderstand?

During our family therapy appointment, when it came out that Danielle was off her meds, we said we needed to make sure that my stepmother (or father) actually watched Danielle take her pill, so that we could be sure she wasn't skipping her dose.

How that managed to get twisted into it is my stepmother's fault Danielle wasn't taking her pills is beyond me.

Despite Danielle being back on her medications since Thursday evening, things still aren't back to normal here.  When I tried to talk to Danielle about her lie, she called me a bunch of names, and walked off, shouting some elementary school version of I'm a mirror and everything you stay goes back to you!

Real mature.  This coming from an almost-17-year-old.

An hour later, Danielle came back and tearfully apologized to me as well.  I accepted her apology, but I also realize that her apologies are absolutely meaningless.

As I wrote about in my old blog, there are three components to an apology:

1. The apology itself.
2. Making amends for the wrongdoing.
3. Not repeating the act again.

Danielle's an absolute pro at the first item on the list, but I can't think of a time where she's managed to complete the other two.

Sure, she might be extremely sorry in the moment, but all of the regret in the world doesn't seem to be sufficient to motivate her to change her behavior.

Nothing changes her behavior.

Maybe she's just not capable.  Certainly her doctors, therapist and teachers think she should be able to do better.

Me?  I don't know.  I worry about her future.  In 13 months, she'll turn 18, and she'll be out on her own.  FosterEema and I have had some long, hard talks lately, and we both agree we are going to ask Danielle to leave (if she doesn't go on her own accord) when she becomes a legal adult.

It's not a decision we like.  Danielle will turn 18 long before she graduates high school.  Although we did discuss the possibility of her staying until she graduates, the latest explosion makes it clear it's not a workable option.

Danielle is currently a minor, so we have no choice but to put up with her fits of temper, defiance, name-calling and episodes of violence.  Once she is 18, we are no longer obligated to put up with this sort of behavior in our home.

We know Danielle won't be ready to launch.

We are tired of being verbally abused and traumatized by our child's rages.

It's not a pretty choice.

Child-Induced Family Drama

Danielle spent all of Saturday and part of Sunday over at my at my father and stepmother's house.  When my stepmother dropped Danielle off, she immediately drove away, instead of coming in to say hello.

We thought it odd.  We especially thought it strange when Danielle said, "Grandma needed to go to the bathroom, so she was in a hurry to get home."

Grandma lives 30 minutes away.  Why wouldn't she just come in and use our bathroom?  I suppose we should have investigated further, but we just shrugged it off.

Later that evening, Grandma's speedy disappearance suddenly made sense.  My father called, asking to speak to FosterEema.  He said that my stepmother was extremely upset over something Danielle had said earlier in the day.

Apparently, Danielle had reported that we blamed my stepmother for Danielle's recent decision to stop taking her medication.

Not true.  FosterEema explained that she had never said that.  I got on the phone and said the same thing.  I asked to speak to my stepmother, but she was still feeling too raw to come to the phone.

Now we have some family drama.

And this morning?  Without prompting, Danielle admitted to having lied to Grandma.

Her justification?

She said she thought that it would be better for Grandma to hear the fictitious news from her, rather than having it come from us.

WTF?

A Sober Realization

Yesterday evening, we made our regularly-scheduled trip to the family therapist.  One of the things we discussed at that meeting was Danielle's recent explosion.

Danielle admitted to the therapist that she had stopped taking her medication.

Why?

She doesn't like taking it, and wanted to see if she could get by without it.

I realize that medical non-compliance is very common among the mentally ill.  I also recognize that Danielle is not safe living in our home without it.

She is almost 17 years old.  We cannot make her take her pills.

At the last appointment, Danielle's psychiatrist instructed us to stop supervising her medication.  She told us that Danielle needs to learn how to manage her medications on her own.

It didn't work out so well.

We are just over a year away from her 18th birthday.  Now that we've witnessed how quickly she decompensates without medication, it is even more abundantly clear that she cannot continue to live here after she becomes an adult.

I hope that we can find some sort of alternative for her that doesn't involve driving her down to the homeless shelter on her 18th birthday.

I am not sure that we can.

Of Meltdowns, School Testing, and Cavities

In the past, the longest we've been able to go without some sort of violent outburst has been about six months.  This time around, we've made it about eight, but it looks like that streak of calm is coming to an end.

Yesterday, Danielle lost it in a big way.  She had a meltdown, complete with crying, screaming, ranting, raving, calling names, and throwing things around in her room.  Although she didn't get violent against people, it's behavior like this that usually indicates that a violent explosion is just around the corner.

The day before, she had started with some pretty amped-up, out-of-control rudeness, defiance, and disrespect.  This is also a harbinger of an impending explosion.

The triggers to both of these episodes?  It was the same old thing: we asked Danielle to help out around the house.  The first episode happened when we asked her to help out with some household chores.  The second episode started when we asked her to clean her room because something in there was starting to stink.

After crying, screaming, and carrying on to the nth degree, she finally discovered the source of the smell -- she had some wet, soggy papers stashed somewhere, and they were starting to mold.

In another recent development, we got Danielle's state mandated testing results back.  Not surprisingly, she still has not achieved proficiency in English/Language Arts or Math.  It's discouraging, because her failing scores on the state mandated tests mean she will likely not pass our state's high school exit examination.

And then, just to add more unfortunate news to the pile, Danielle had another four cavities when she went for her six-month dental checkup.  The dentist said she's not doing an adequate job of brushing and flossing.

She'll turn 18 in just a bit over a year.  When that birthday arrives, she'll most likely lose her state-sponsored health insurance.  Even if the current political climate changes that, she will definitely lose her dental coverage.  Our state system does not offer any dental coverage for those over 18, no matter how serious their problem.

I explained to Danielle that if she doesn't learn to brush soon, she's potentially facing a very painful toothache and a lot of costly dental bills.  With as many cavities as she's had, I'm worried she might not have any teeth left by the time she turns 35.

It's just a sad, sad situation.

As for my dearth of blogging lately, I've been gone for a number of reasons.  First off, there hasn't been much to write about on the Danielle front (positive or negative) so there hasn't been much to say.  I've been working on a number of other writing projects, which have somewhat diluted my enthusiasm for blogging.  Also, work's been crazy busy of late, so what little time I do have available, it's not really being spent here.

Still, I figured an update was warranted, especially because it sure looks like an explosion is nigh.

If You Wouldn't Accept it from a Friend or Relative

More of Danielle's birth family has been trying to get in touch with us.

This time, it was an elder half-sibling who wanted us to come to a party.  This individual has moved to a nearby town and wanted to get reacquainted.

We didn't even return the phone call.

The other half-sibling, the one we had to make a hard call about, has left us a number of messages by way of voicemail, text and social media site.

We haven't returned any of those messages either.

After FosterEema and I talked it over between ourselves and with our therapist, we decided to cut these folks out of our lives.

Although we both recognize the importance of birth family contact, we also realize that there is an even greater need for family safety.  We've come to the sad conclusion that the majority of Danielle's birth family members have criminal records, use or sell drugs, and/or are involved in gangs.  We don't need this in our life, and Danielle doesn't either.

If she wants to contact these people after she's 18, that's her business and her right.  But now, when it's clear these people are not law-abiding citizens.  We don't want them around.

The basic premise is that we wouldn't allow these people around us if they were friends or our own blood relatives.  If we wouldn't tolerate this kind of behavior from friends or family, why should Danielle's birth family receive special dispensation?

The truth is, they shouldn't.

So we did not tell Danielle this time around when her half-sibling tried to get in contact.

Sometimes, You Have to Make the Hard Calls

I haven't been posting lately, largely because there hasn't been much to report.  The medication cocktail of an anti-depressant, combined with an atypical anti-psychotic, has brought Danielle's rages to an absolute halt.  She hasn't had any violent outbursts in several months.

The medications are a godsend.  I'm just sorry that we weren't able to get anyone to listen to us three years ago, when the severe problems started.  If someone had listened, I wonder how things might have been different.

I would be lying if I said things were perfect with respect to Danielle, but she's doing much, much better.  We still have our problems, and we are all looking forward to her 18th birthday, which is now less than 15 months away.  Her plans are to reunite with her birth family, just as soon as it is legally possible.  Still, day-to-day life around here is a lot more manageable and pleasant.

Our biggest struggle at this point is trying to balance contact with Danielle's birth family.  Our challenge, and it's really hard to call it that because things are so much better than they were, has to do with visitation.  At the end of May, we noticed a birth family member was selling prescription drugs on a social media site.

We were rather upset by the development, not only because the activity is blatantly illegal and just plain stupid, but because another family member indicated approval of the sales.  It has become an uncomfortable situation, because one of those family members happens to be geographically closest, and now wants to resume visits with Danielle.

Given that this individual doesn't own a car, until now we've been primarily responsible for providing this person transportation to and from visits.  Now that we've discovered the illicit activity, we have no desire to have this relative in our home, in our car, or around our family.  I don't want a drug dealer, no matter how small, in my life.  I figure I have enough troubles without finding myself having to worry about whether or not someone has a pocket full of drugs if we get pulled over for having a tail light out.

I'm not without sympathy for this individual.  This person has been calling, texting and sending us many messages through social media asking for a visit.  We've largely ignored the requests, not knowing exactly what to say.  When we finally decided upon our response, we texted back and explained our position.  It's clear this relative is very sad.

What I struggle with most is the justification we heard for the behavior.  Apparently, this person "didn't know" that selling someone's prescription medication was illegal.  Although I recognize that this person isn't the brightest bulb in the proverbial box, I don't see how anyone could be so unenlightened as to not know that drug dealing is against the law.

I am sympathetic, but I don't want this person in our life.  Sometimes, you have to make the hard calls.

Sometimes, Your Gut is Right

Long time followers might remember a little girl that I named U.G. (Uninvited Guest) on my old blog.  This was a kid who came to the house several times without an invitation, and we had quite a few problems because her behavior stank and we couldn't communicate with her mother who didn't speak a word of English.

Danielle had begged to be allowed to spend the night at U.G.'s house, but we always felt uncomfortable with the idea.  U.G.'s behavior was an issue, as was the communication impasse, but we had a gut feeling that things weren't quite right over there.  Later, we learned that an aunt (who was living with the family) had deliberately burned one of her children after the child had been caught stealing.

We finally put a stop to the girls' visits when U.G. came along on an especially lousy outing.  She was openly defiant (and egged Danielle on) when we expected appropriate behavior in a bookstore and in a restaurant.  Since we'd had ongoing troubles with her, this was the straw that broke the camel's back.  We put an end to visits at our house.

The last time we visited with U.G. was back in January of 2007. 

At the time, I felt somewhat guilty for depriving Danielle of visits with her friend.  Still, we couldn't find a way around her behavior.  We thought about hiring an interpreter to speak with her mother, who seemed nice enough.  In the end, we decided it wasn't our responsibility to foster a friendship with a kid who wouldn't behave.  Besides, we had some valid questions about her mother's character, simply because her child behaved so terribly.

Still, it turns out that our instincts for keeping Danielle away from the girl (and her family) were correct.  We recently heard U.G.'s brother is now wanted for murdering his girlfriend in an extremely horrible and brutal way.

First World Problems with Birth Family

Small issues with Danielle's birth family keep coming up, though I do have to admit that these are really first world problems more than anything else.

Still, they are annoying.

When we met with Danielle's birth family, they invited us to attend a milestone event for one of Danielle's cousins.  We weren't sure we wanted to attend for a number of reasons, though Danielle very much wanted to go.

In light of our discovery that one of Danielle's birth family members is offering prescription drugs for sale, and that this person would be at the festivities, we decided not to go.  Danielle was understandably disappointed, but as it turned out, we wouldn't have been able to attend anyway.  FosterEema has a conflicting appointment.

As this situation unfolded, we also observed that another family member voiced her approval of the aforementioned drug dealing.

In a nutshell, it has become clear that these are not people with whom we want to associate.

My current problem is that one of the above relatives has started to send me regular messages via a social media site.  Whenever she is online, it seems she wants to chat.  I'm trying to remain positive and believe that she's simply trying to be friendly, but in all honesty, it makes me very uncomfortable. 

The problem is made worse by the fact that she seems to only send me messages when I'm on the phone with a client or otherwise engaged in work.

I know, first world problems.

These problems put a sharp focus on the underlying flaw of the foster care system, and it reminds me very much of a story we were told about a girl who had been in care for most of her childhood.  She was about to turn 18, and the social workers were trying to put together some sort of plan for her.  In the end, our county bought her a bus ticket and sent her back to her birth family.

This was the birth family who had abused her sufficiently that she wasn't safe living with them.

If a family isn't safe when a child is 15, 16, or 17, how does the family suddenly become safe when the child turns 18?  I'm not sure I see much difference between an older teen and an 18-year-old, other than a difference in their legal status. It makes me ask, if these kids so desperately want to return home, should they have been taken from their families in the first place?

It's an uncomfortable question to ask.

Danielle continues to make it clear that she wants to go live with her birth family after her 18th birthday.  She's already told us that she wants to live with a relative who she claimed abused her.  When we asked Danielle about this plan, her remark was, "Well, I've already forgiven her."

The abuse Danielle described was not insignificant, yet she wants to return to that life.

I find it extremely confusing and sad.

Birth Family Contact Never Gets Any Easier

Contact with birth family members just seems to be fraught with problems.

Recently, we received word that some of Danielle's family members were in town.  Since she hadn't seen any of these people since before she was taken into foster care, we decided to allow a visit.

Everybody seemed very nice.  We felt like there was an enormous contrast between what social workers had told us about these people, what Danielle herself had said, and the way they behaved.  I spent several days afterward struggling to reconcile those differences in my mind.

In the end, I couldn't reconcile them.  How does one reconcile nice, polite, and smiling faces with the deeds these people were alleged to have perpetrated?

One can't.

And then, to make things even more complicated, we noticed that one of Danielle's family members was offering prescription drugs up for sale on a social media site.

Birth family contact just never gets any easier.

I Hope I Haven't Spoken too Soon

Yesterday afternoon we went to our weekly counseling session.   While we were in the waiting room, Danielle expressed that she was very, very, very angry.

We never did find out why she was so furious.  When we asked her, she wasn't even sure herself.  It was as if a large storm blew in, rumbled for a while, and then blew out.

To her credit, she didn't explode.  That's a plus.

Still, her anger leaves me worried.  This time it seemed as if she was furiously angry for absolutely no reason.  I just hope I haven't spoken too soon about the medication being helpful.

Mother's Day Weekend

I'm happy to report that we had a mostly successful Mother's Day weekend.  It's clear that the combination of the anti-depressant and atypical anti-psychotic seem to be giving Danielle the ability to control herself.

Of course Mother's Day weekend has oddly never been a source of major blow-ups.

On Friday, we went and saw the much-anticipated movie (at least at our house) Dark Shadows.  I was a big fan of the original series when I was in high school, and managed to catch it on syndication.  FosterEema had never seen it, but she got turned on to it when we discovered Netflix offered the entire series.  For a while, we had a regular weekly Dark Shadows get-together with a friend.

When I heard the movie was coming out May 11, I could hardly wait.



I have to say that I absolutely loved the film, though it wasn't nearly as funny as the above movie trailer would suggest.  The critics have largely panned the movie, claiming that it doesn't do a good job of being a comedy or a horror film.  Although I agree with that assessment, in that it is both Gothic and funny, I don't think that makes it a bad film.  Now I will admit that there are a couple of changes in the story line that diverge from the original TV series' story line, but I don't think that takes away from the film.  Die-hard Dark Shadows fans need to come into the film with an open mind, remembering that this is a movie based on those original characters, not a loyal recreation.

I've actually paid to see it twice in the theaters, which is a huge endorsement.  We don't go to the movies all that often because of the expense.  I have a hard time buying three tickets to the cinema, when I can buy a DVD of the same film for the same price or less, and then I'm able to watch the film as many times as I like.

Danielle didn't like the film nearly as much as we did, I think largely because some of the humor went completely over her head.

On Saturday, we went out to dinner with friends, and this was probably the only unpleasantness of the entire weekend.  Danielle has a habit of suddenly "feeling sick" whenever we go out with our friends, and this was no exception.  She kept leaving the table, claiming she was throwing up in the bathroom.

We largely ignored the behavior, as this has been a long-time pattern of Danielle's. We don't see the behavior at home, only when we are out doing something she doesn't want to be doing. I find it frustrating, because in addition to the attention-seeking behaviors she creates as she makes a big show of running off to the bathroom, she generally will order a large meal that she will ultimately not eat.

On the drive home, I raised the issue of her behavior during dinner.  I didn't make a big deal of it, but I did say that we were tired of the drama, and didn't appreciate buying her food that she didn't eat.  She tried to argue a little, but I didn't bother to say anything more.  I'd said my piece, she knew how I felt, and that was all that needed to be said.

Sunday morning, she gave FosterEema a hand-made mother's day card.  Inside, she apologized for her behavior at dinner, though she did insist she really was sick.  "It would be nice if you would believe me!" she wrote, adding a couple of very unhappy-looking frowning faces.

There's no doubt in my mind that she probably works herself up to feeling sick during these episodes.  Still, I think she does it to attract attention, as it only happens when we are going somewhere with our friends, especially if she wasn't the one to pick the restaurant.

Sunday afternoon, we paid a brief visit to my mother, and then we headed home.  Danielle went to bed early, and FosterEema and I spent some time writing.  She's working her her second novel, and I'm working on the second draft of my first.

Although we didn't do anything terribly exciting (other than see Dark Shadows) it was a decent weekend.  It was nice to manage to escape some of the drama that many foster and adoptive parents experience on Mother's Day weekend.

For that, I am truly grateful.

Stepping Out of my Life

I feel like I have, for the past few weeks, pretty much stepped out of my regular life.  We've had a lot going on around here, most of which doesn't involve Danielle.

I spent almost a week caring for an extended family member after a surgery, actually spending less time there than I'd planned.  While there, when I wasn't working or performing care-giving duties, I spent my time plugging away on the novel I am writing.  In years past, I've thought about joining NaNoWriMo, but the thought of completing a first draft novel in 30 days seemed an impossible goal.

It turns out that writing a first draft in 30 days is not impossible.  I'm to the point in my story where the tale of the bad guy has reached its conclusion, and all that's left is the wrap-up for the two protagonists and the epilogue.  I should be able to easily finish this before Friday, which means I will have completed my first draft in less than 28 days.

Now I will say that getting this done in such a short amount of time has been pretty much all-consuming.  If I haven't been working or sleeping, I've been writing.  In a way, I almost feel like I've been having an affair on my life.  My story has become a mistress who jealously consumes all my free time.

It's been fun, though.

As for Danielle, it appears that the medications are making a positive difference.  She has been on the new anti-depressant for a couple of months now, and the new atypical anti-psychotic for a month.  Although it hasn't fixed all of her problems, it seems the combination of medications have really taken the wind out of her sails when it comes to her simmering, boiling, never-ceasing rage.

Although Danielle's rage has pretty much dissipated, what is left is a child who still has many concerning problems.  Her lack of motivation in life regarding her education and future employment will not serve her well. She also seems to be developing some very unhealthy eating habits (refusing nearly all food prepared at home) and her personal hygiene is sorely lacking.  Although she does shower regularly, she rarely launders her clothes or sheets and fails to brush her teeth and wash her hair.

On Friday, I discovered that she still doesn't use toilet paper, despite the abundance of it in the house.

Now that her anger is gone, she seems to be developing two new problems.  The first merely annoying problem is that she constantly complains about minor physical ailments, especially when she's away spending the night with friends or grandparents.  Almost every time she leaves the house, we will get a phone call from her begging us to take her to the ER or urgent care center.   Her response very much feels like she is demanding an amputation for treatment of a splinter, and we are constantly telling her she needs to do x for the treatment of minor ailment y, but she doesn't want to listen.

The second issue is puzzling.  She will often come home from school and exuberantly throw her arms around one of us and say, "I love you so much!" She'll squeal the way teens are prone to do over a cute stuffed animal or a baby; sometimes she will even try to kiss us.  Although Danielle might be expressing her genuine feelings of the moment, it doesn't feel authentic.  I constantly find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Being on the receiving end of this feels very confusing.  From our perspective, we haven't changed anything in terms of our relationship with her or how we parent.  This behavior has only come up over the last couple of weeks, and I'm having a hard time adjusting to being treated like the greatest thing since sliced bread, when for years I've been told I was the worst thing that had ever happened to Danielle.  Granted, this all may very well be attributed to her new medication regimen, but it's still hard to accept.

I guess neither of these issues are as bad as the rages we saw before, but they still make our house feel very abnormal.

Report Card

We received Danielle's most recent progress report in the mail yesterday.  Her grades are mostly better, but she has earned a D- and is in danger of failing one of her electives.  The class was supposed to be a course that might prepare her for a job in the future, but she's made it absolutely clear that she's not interested.

Her overall GPA for this report was 2.57.  Although it's certainly not stellar, other than the D-, it's good enough.

The best mark she earned was the A- she got in her Conflict Resolution class.  Given the amount of trouble we've had at home in the past, it strikes us as an enormous irony.

High School Exit Exam

This afternoon, we received a copy of Danielle's state high school exit exam results.  This is a test that, at least in our state, all students must pass before they graduate.

As we predicted, Danielle failed.

In order to pass, a student has to score 77%.  Danielle scored 75% on the English/Language Arts portion of the test, and 73% on the Mathematics.

She failed, but not by much.  We are both quite surprised to see she came so close on her first try.

I have to say that I'm blown away.

FosterEema and I have both listened to her read, quizzed her on her comprehension, and read her writing.  When I compare samples of what she writes with things I wrote at a similar age, the difference is astounding.  It makes me scared, not only for Danielle's future, but for the future of this country.

I can't believe that our academic standards have fallen so low.  It's no wonder the United States is falling so far behind.