May 2008

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This weekend could not have come at a better time; I was *this* close to burning out – on all levels.

Physically, I’ve actually gone for several months without a period (thanks, PCOS!) and this month my body decided to repay me by ‘making up for it’. I’ve been in agony – sheer, doubled-over agony – for a few days. Yesterday was the worst of all. Headaches and cramps and excessive bleeding and bloating and, yeah, VERY PRETTY.

Mentally, I’ve been dealing with a kid who’s pissed off, weeping, yelling and otherwise being angry. I’ve had two other kids who, of course, need attention and love and good stuff and I’ve been so tense about the first kid that I’ve had a hard time being accessible to the others. Which lead to me being kind of weepy and feeling like a big ol’ failure for a few days.

I’ve been sleeping terribly. Waking up multiple times in the middle of the night “just because” and finding it hard to get comfortable.

The house is a mess. There are twenty-seven thousand projects in need of my attention – completion – and it’s wearing me down just looking at them. I don’t know where to start. I don’t want to start. I’m overwhelmed!

There are hundreds of emails in my inbox. I need to do laundry and sort clothing. The kitchen is a mess. My sewing table has been fully neglected.

But there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. And it’s not a train…

Coffee is out in the garden getting it tidied up and ready for planting. We will put the strawberries and the peppers and the watermelon and all-the-others into the garden this weekend, I believe. We’ll get things growing and it’s gonna’ be GOOD. I’m pretty sure we’re going to pick up free mulch this weekend or next.

Oldest One’s clothing issue has been resolved, as of last night, and there shouldn’t be any more freaking out or yelling or carrying on. At least, not on THIS subject. It was unpleasant last night, and there were tears, but we’re all on the same page and we stuck to our guns. This morning was peaceful. There were hugs and snuggles.

My uterus is still in agony but that, of course, will pass. In the meantime I’m mainlining ibuprofen and caffeine to help it along. Since it’s the weekend, I can lie down if a I need to for a while.

I had a decent quantity of sleep last night. No weird dreams, no random waking moments at 3am.

But oh, man, I am grateful for the weekend. I am grateful that Coffee came home early last night. I am grateful for some peace.

Tally.

The agreement, signed by Oldest One, reads:

All of [Oldest One's] clothing will be treated properly. Dirty clothes will go into the hamper each night/day. All clean clothes will be in a drawer or hanging on a hanger in the closet. Mom and/or Dad will, at any time and without warning, remove all clothing that is left on the floor of the room OR on the floor of the closet. These items of clothing will be either held in a container to be given to [Middle One] at a later date OR immediately taken to Goodwill for donation. There will be no negotiation on this issue.

In removing clothing from [Oldest One's] room, Mom and Dad will not touch other personal items (papers, toys, etc). They agree not to open any dresser drawers but they will open the closet for a visual inspection.

For the first two weeks, I reminded him that I was taking stuff. He didn’t care. I stopped reminding him.

In the past month, I have removed the following items of clothing from Oldest One’s room. It took him until a few days ago to really notice they were gone – which should tell you how many OTHER items of clothing still remain in his closet and dresser.

5 pairs of jamma pants
1 bathrobe
8 pairs of shorts
8 pairs of pants
6 sweaters / hoodies

and, the kicker, FIFTY-ONE t-shirts.

This morning he lost his shit, people, and there was yelling and crying and stomping. There was DRAMA! MUCH DRAMA! because he couldn’t find something to wear. All of his ‘favourite’ items of clothing are in my room, in a bin, and it would be a travesty if he had to wear something else.

Of course, it begs the question of why, if these are such beloved items, they were on the floor when he already knew the “removing clothing” rule was in place.

Tonight there will be a discussion about this issue – when Coffee is home – and Oldest One will need to decide what he’d like to do about the problem.

This is how we spend our Friday nights around here, people.

All party, all the time..

One of the most remarkable things about the way we lie to kids is how broad the conspiracy is. All adults know what their culture lies to kids about: they’re the questions you answer “Ask your parents.” If a kid asked you who won the World Series in 1982 or what the atomic weight of carbon was, you could just tell him. But if a kid asks you “Is there a God?” or “What’s a prostitute?” you’ll probably say “Ask your parents.”

Keep reading here.. it’s all quite well-said.

Now I Know.

Last night, Middle One helped me sort through some recycling that’s been lingering in our garage for a very long while. (I’m on a tear to organize things a bit better in that space since we received an entire sporting goods store worth of balls and sleds and stilts and the like from my friend Deb.)

As we sorted the paper and the plastic that had been sitting in the back of the garage for at least a year, we reached the bottom of the bin and came across a V8 bottle that a mouse had apparently decided to call home. It was stuffed full of paper and fluff (and poop) and we both thought it was super duper cool.

Middle One: Olivia, the girl who sits in front of me, is a lot like a mouse.

Me: She looks like a mouse?

Middle One: No. She just takes erasers and chews them until they’re powdery and puts them in her desk in a pile.

Me: What does she do with them after that?

Middle One: Nothing. But if she was a mouse, she could make a nest!

Me: Does she chew all erasers?

Middle One: No, she only likes the soft ones. The hard ones don’t get powdery the same way.

Me: Oh. I didn’t realize there were different chewing properties to erasers. Huh. Learn something new every day, I guess.

Middle One: And the girl who sits on the other side of me? She eats old gum.

Me: Old gum?

Middle One: Yeah, she keeps all sorts of already-chewed gum in her desk in case she needs some. And then she chews it again.

Me: Ooookay… just out of curiosity, what do YOU chew on?

Middle One: PAPER! I like to eat it. I especially like the coloured stuff because it has a different flavour.

Me: Well, at least now I know why you don’t always eat your whole lunch…

It occurs to me that being a grade 2 teacher must be a lot like running a mental institution with all the chewing and gnawing and hiding of assorted non-food items in little piles of shreddedness…

How do you afford three older kids? Isn’t it expensive?
Are you aware of how much it costs to outfit a baby? And how quickly they outgrow things? Formula?

If you’ve been reading for any length of time, you already know that we adopted big kids. And that I’m still totally in awe of how much they eat, drink and consume on a daily basis.

But, other than food, our bills have not changed in a major way. We still pay about the same for hydro and water (we do an extra load or two of laundry each week and, of course, there are more showers going on each day) and we have a short-term increase in our gas costs for the cars due to driving Maymo to school and back each day.

We’ve been very lucky. We have a lot of friends who have given the kids gifts of clothing and toys and other wonderful things. We’ve been able to obtain some things from Freecycle.

With three boys, we have hand-me-downs to hand down between the kids, too!

In my previous answers to questions, I said that Coffee and I are in charge of passing on our values – one of our values is avoiding overconsumption. We work hard to teach the kids to take care of the things they already have, make good choices for any purchases they do make, and to help them understand the value of money (through their allowance and otherwise).

We also work really hard to teach the kids not to equate gifts – financial or otherwise – with love. Actions speak louder than a present wrapped with a bow.

Our kids lack nothing in the material world. They have a computer and a DVD player and a Wii and clothes and toys and books and art supplies and Lego and.. well, you get the picture. Not all of it was new, not all of it was expensive, but we have what we need.

In the event that we made less money than we do, the agency does offer adoption subsidies. We would be eligible for things like money for groceries or money for clothing, dental work, medications and therapies, all depending on our income. What I’m saying is that I’d advise people to not make money the sole reason why they don’t adopt an older kid. If you’re financial solvent but not rolling in cash, you’ll be okay.

How do you keep your marriage together with three kids suddenly in your life? How do you make sure you and Coffee are on the same wavelength for handling the kids?
Easy – we had a really, really good marriage before the kids arrived.

The idea of kids “saving” a marriage is the biggest lie I’ve ever heard! If you’re not in agreement on how you’ll deal with kids – problems, good times, rules, bedtimes, discipline, homework, food, behaviours – you’re going to have a bitch of a time with an older kid(s) adoption. Because they DO test limits. They DO test to see if you’re a united front. And they’re always around…

Coffee and I spend time “in discussion” several times a day on the weekends. When he gets home from work, I try to give him a quick rundown of the day’s events so he’ll know why one kid isn’t allowed to have any candy and why another has been banned from the Wii. I also email him during the day so he knows what’s going on and isn’t going “against” something I’ve put in place when he gets home.

We also spend 5 minutes here and there while the kids are playing, for example, to talk about X problem or Y event. Other times, we tell the child who’s in ‘trouble’ to sit on the sofa for a moment while we go in another room to discuss how we’d like to handle it.

There is no rule that says you must discipline immediately, did you know that? If there’s a big explosion of tempers and tears, we remove the kids immediately but we don’t apply the consequences unless it’s one we already have in place (i.e., something we’ve dealt with before). Coffee and I discuss it together, first, and then we sit down with the offender to discuss the problem, why it was a problem, why it’s not permitted to do X or Y and what the consequence is for that particular problem.

We get up before the kids in the mornings so we can snuggle and chat for a bit. We stay up later than the kids so we can watch “grown up” television or talk or have sex. Yes, we do still have sex! On weekends we let the kids play games on the Wii so we can steal some time together..

Every time someone offers to babysit on a Saturday, we go out for sushi and a trip to the library together.

I remind the kids regularly that Coffee is my favourite person in the entire world. He’s my light and my life and my love. It’s important for me to have time with him. They appreciate that – and I think, in the long run, it will benefit them when they’re adults and in their own relationships. They need good modeling from us.

Do you find your feelings toward your own parents has changed now that you’re a parent?
I miss my Dad more than ever – knowing how much he’d love spending time with the boys and getting to know them. I’m sure he’d think I was crazy for adopting three kids but I’m also sure he’d love them to bits. I find myself trying to act more like my Dad sometimes – to help the kids explore the world in a very tactile way.

I had thought that I might understand my mother a bit better once I had kids but the truth is that I have even LESS of an understanding of her now than I did before. The mistakes she made seem so incredibly big now, compared to before. I look at my kids and see how fragile they are, ultimately, as children and I’m angry that my own mother couldn’t accept me as the person I was as a child – imperfections and all.

Is it hard to raise a family without an extended family to back you up?
Yes and no. It’s not like we’ve got a choice! Coffee’s family is all in the United States. My immediately family is deceased. We don’t have parents who can babysit at the drop of a hat or who can come and stay for a few days to look after the kids when I’m sick or who are thrilled to buy the kids expensive gifts or take them somewhere for a day or have them over for sleepovers.

And sometimes, yes, I’m insanely jealous of friends who DO have that help.

But we have really good friends and we continue to make new friends, too. We accept help when it’s offered. And sure, it’s not always ideal or perfect to rely on friends, but it’s GOOD.

The other thing? We knew we were in this particular situation before we adopted kids – so it wasn’t a shock to realize we didn’t have the support of our parents or extended family.

Is it hard to parent kids who haven’t had ideal families in the past?
Without going into the private details, it’s obvious that the kids didn’t have the perfect past. But at the same time, there was a LOT of good in their earlier lives. A lot.

One of the things we’ve worked hard on is the idea of emphasizing “this family” we’re all a part of instead of blanket statements about families. For example, instead of saying, “Families don’t DO x or Y” we would say, “Our family doesn’t X. We don’t do it because we don’t hurt each other. We take care of each other.”

The same applies to what Moms and Dads do. I never say, “A good mom doesn’t do X or Y”, I say, “As your Mom, I’ve chosen not to do X or Y.”

We also try to explain why we do and don’t do certain things. We talk about our values. We talk about choices the kids will need to make when they’re adults, too.

I work really hard to never, ever speak negatively about their biological mother. (It’s easier than you’d think.) When a kid tells me a story about something that happened in the past, I try to frame it from their perspective – “Did that hurt your feelings?” or “Was that hard for you to see?” It is not my place to judge their mother, or their past, and I suspect that if I were to judge either one the kids would soon stop mentioning it.

We frame things for the kids in terms of “personal choices”. We talk a lot about how you can never MAKE someone do something that they don’t choose to do themselves.

Parents, for example, don’t do drugs because they have bad kids or because the kids are too loud – parents do drugs because that’s how they chose to deal with their stress or deal with their problems. And that’s not a healthy choice to make, of course, but it’s not the kids’ fault or anyone else’s fault.

The kids, with the exception of Maymo, know why they came into foster care and why they were adopted instead of reunited with their biological mom. So we talk about it. We talk about choices. We talk about how to fix mistakes. We talk about how much their mom loves them, still, even though she’s not a part of their lives.

We talk about the past but we also emphasize the future. A lot.

(More? Any more questions? This is kind of fun!)

Preparing.

Remember when I asked if you had any advice as to what I should talk about when I’m presenting the whole “adopting older kids experience” at the adoption training early in June? You guys gave me some really good questions – things you thought about, wondered about, figured people might be interested in knowing..

Since I’m trying to make my thoughts more coherent I figured I’d do a “trial run” and answer them here. Then you, if you feel the urge, can tell me what doesn’t make sense or what I should expand on a bit or, even more fun, if you have other questions that might work..

So, here we go. Keep in mind, as always, that I don’t speak for Coffee’s perspectives!

When did YOU feel like they were yours?
On the first day that they were here, I felt a little bit like I was babysitting: responsible for keeping the kids safe and sound, but not forever. As if someone might appear in a few hours, thank me for my help, and then I’d go back to being childless again. The real feeling of “ownership” (as in, these are MY kids) snuck up on me gradually over time.

The biggest factors in feeling like they’re MY kids came along with my confidence in parenting them. The first time one asked me for help. The first time one hugged me spontaneously. The first time one called me Mom. Each ‘step’ increased my confidence and theirs, too. We sussed each other out, learned to trust a bit, learned our boundaries. And then one day I woke up and realized that if someone were to take them away – one or all – I’d be heartbroken.

Is it hard to figure out your style vs. their style and make it a family style?
Coffee and I have a fairly relaxed style in most regards. We’re had to step up on things like “celebrating Christmas” and “throwing birthday parties” but, for the most part, the kids are quite low key themselves in their expectations and needs. Coffee and I haven’t tried to pretend that we’re experienced in this whole parenting thing, so we’ve been okay with asking the kids what they want, what they’ve done in the past, what’s important to them.. a HUGE bonus when you adopt older kids who can communicate their own stories.

A lot of it comes down to values – which, as the parents, we’re responsible for setting. Then we let the kids fine-tune the details. An example is that we want the kids to try new things and develop new skills; we explained that to them and they chose archery. We value spending time together; they chose family movie night and pizza.

When did THEY feel like you were their mother? Do they call you mom?
The two younger kids call me Mom exclusively.

Oldest One calls me Mom randomly – he prefers Violet (“It’s a pretty name!”) and I’m okay with that. I know a lot people aren’t comfortable with the idea of their child calling them by their first name and to them I’d suggest finding a compromise. Older kids often remember their biological parents vividly and asking them to suddenly call someone else “Mom” can feel like their biological parents are being shoved out of the picture completely – a huge loss.

Until a month or two ago, Middle One would refer to me as Violet when talking to someone else. More recently he’s begun saying, “And my Mom says..” or “This is my mom…” which suggests to me that the idea is settling in more and more.

Do you fear the biological parent coming back and interfering?
Yes and no. The details of why my kids came into care are obviously confidential to them. But I’ve mentioned here that they do have a mother and she does live in the same city as we do. There’s always a chance of us running into her somewhere, I suppose, and Coffee and I are definitely memorable in appearance. The kids all look similar – while she hasn’t seen them in a few years, the youngest looks exactly like Middle One did when he came into care. She would recognize them, assuredly.

Our adoption is a “closed” adoption which means that, from a purely legal standpoint, none of the boys’ relatives (mother included) have any rights to see the kids or communicate with them until they’re 18 years old. There are no visitation rights or phone calls. The boys know that they cannot see their mother.

Having said that, Coffee and I agreed informally to continue contact with specific relatives (like grandpa) as long as long as it’s proving beneficial to the kids.

That sounds so very legal-ese, doesn’t it? The truth of the matter is that our kids HAVE family members who are not a part of why they came into care and who they love very much. As long as the kids would like to be in contact with these relatives, there’s no reason for us to NOT allow it. The agency, too, has provided us with some information about various relatives that has given us comfort when it comes to making contact.

Does it make me nervous? Of course. I don’t know these family members, really. So the first few contacts were hesitant on my part. How much do I say? What do I talk about? What will they WANT from me?

But the thing about these extended family members is that they hold so many keys to my kids’ past and future. They have family stories and family photos. Someday they’ll tell my kids what their bio mom was like when she was a kid or share memories of past visits. And that’s something I have no desire to take away from the kids because it belongs to THEM and not me.

I swallow my fears. I swallowed them when grandpa came to visit, when the kids wanted to email relatives, when they wanted to visit with 15YO… I know that we’re lucky the kids have an extended family that’s healthy enough to be a part of their lives and that a lot of kids don’t have any contact with relatives once they’re adopted.

And yes, if the relatives were to start causing problems for the kids, I’d have to stop contact. It’s my job to protect the kids and to help them grow beyond what’s happened in the past and become strong, confident, healthy adults. But we’ve lucked out, at least as far as I can tell, and all our contact with relatives has been positive.

I don’t know how their biological mom is doing these days or what her life looks like – so I don’t know what her thoughts are on the kids being adopted (by anyone). If she were to show up and start causing problems, well, we’d have to deal with it. That could mean calling the agency, calling the police, or something else. It would really depend. But given that it’s a closed adoption, the law is “on our side” to to speak so I don’t worry about her showing up and taking them away.

How do you avoid having the feeling (or having them feel) like this is a charitable act? When does it just feel like a family?
The kids know that Coffee and I chose to adopt kids rather than have biological kids. They know that this is what we wanted and that they, specifically, were chosen by us because we had “things in common” and because we thought we could make a really good family. In some ways, adoption is a bit like a marriage. You choose someone (or your heart chooses) and then you make it work so you can be together forever.

The crucial thing, I think, is to never make the kids feel like they must be GRATEFUL for being adopted into the family. We also emphasize the “choice” aspect to the kids. Much as we chose THEM, they also had to make a choice to be adopted (the older 2, at least) and have had to repeatedly make that choice over the past few months. If either older kid said, “no”, the adoption wouldn’t continue for them.

Coffee and I often talk about how blessed WE are to have three boys and how neat we think they are and how glad we are that they chose us, too. But we’re still on the “new” side of things. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and am suddenly reminded that, “holy crap! I’m a mother to three kids!” Sometimes I look at one of the kids and think, “What the hell? How did I end up responsible for you?” But each day the novelty wears off a bit more and things just feel right.

Do you give any focus to their “previous” life? (i.e., do you want to know about their own memories or do you just focus on having new experiences?)
We talk a LOT about the past. I bring up their bio mom at least once a day in some context – because it happens naturally. They all know they can talk about her, too, and that it doesn’t bother me or threaten me or make me feel like they don’t love me or anything else.

Living in the same city they grew up in, with her, means they sometimes say, “Oh! I was here with my bio Mom before!” and I always ask them to tell me more. Sometimes I’ll cook a food and they’ll tell me that their bio mom made it, too. They’ve let me look through their “memory books” with them – full of photos of mom and relatives and places and things from the past.

It would seem really uncomfortable, to me, to try to pretend the past didn’t happen. We don’t linger on bad memories – though the kids are definitely encouraged to talk about those, too – but we try to incorporate the past into the present. Make it wrap-up nicely together. Our “family photo” wall will soon have photos of their mom along with pictures of me. Photos of their grandpa and my own dad.

Because you don’t have them from babies and changed their diapers or potty trained, etc., is it difficult to do some of the more “personal hygiene” types of things like showers, bathroom trouble, sickness, pre-teen hormonal stuff?
The youngest one, being four, goes running around naked as often as he can. I have grown accustomed to seeing his naked body, I’ve wiped his bum, and I help him shower every night. He has never been shy about it – he’s four and, as far as he’s concerned, SOMEONE needs to help him out!

Middle One is more reserved but, yes, I’ve seen him naked and it didn’t phase me.

I have not seen Oldest One naked and, chances are, I never will.

We are a family that talks about poop and snot and all the rest quite openly – so no one hesitates to mention an upset stomach. The trick, again, was for Coffee and I to instigate the openness. It’s our job to set the tone and to let them know that we’re parents and we’re okay with the “gross” stuff.

We have had the “sex talk” briefly and continue to have it whenever we can work it in. Again, though, we’re pretty open about that kind of thing.

I’d be concerned about the element of ‘failing,’ What if you felt like things were so out of control that you couldn’t do anything positive to change it?
The biggest thing I’d say is that it is absolutely, positively, without question, CRUCIAL to be open and honest with the adoption workers throughout the entire process. They’re professionals and it’s their job to help you understand what you can and cannot handle in a child. If you lie to them or hide things, they can’t make a great match – and I suspect that’s when a lot of problems can happen.

The other thing that’s crucial is to do research. The nine week course that’s offered is a great thing but it’s not the be-all and end-all to understanding problems, disorders, issues, etc. Get to know some of the common issues in kids who are in care and figure out what you can and cannot tolerate. Be honest and open. If you’re looking for older kids there’s no shortage – don’t feel pressured to say “yes” to the first kid you hear about simply because you’re desperate to adopt. When in doubt, err on the side of caution.

No one is looking down on you if you say that you cannot handle a child with autism or a child with FAS or a child who has been sexually abused. But you need to know what’s involved in those problems before you can know whether it’s manageable or not. (For example, FAS has a really bad reputation – but the severity seriously varies from child to child and can be almost unnoticeable..)

When it comes down to the actual placement, you’re given a lot of information about the child and their situation. Paperwork! Notes! Emails! Faxes! Files! Read it. All of it. Ask questions and ask more questions. Ask your worker how X or Y may impact on the child in the future. Ask your family physician or a local therapist for their input if you can.

The emphasis for adoption is on “the team”. The team includes your worker, the adoption worker, the child’s worker, the child’s support workers, teachers, doctors, relatives.. USE them.

And even after the placement, when the child has moved in, that team still exists. Adoption isn’t instantaneous. At this point, six months after our kids have moved in, we COULD still say, “This isn’t working.” We can ask for help from the agency. We can get referrals for therapy or consultations for disorders. We can request more information about issues.

Our social worker visits once each month. I can email her any time I want or call her because, as part of the placement agreement, it’s stipulated that I can talk to her any time I need to ask a question or get advice. And I do!

There are no guarantees from your own biological children that you won’t “fail”. There’s no guarantee you won’t raise a serial killer or a sociopath or a flat-out lunatic. There’s no guarantee your child will be healthy (physically or mentally) or that they won’t have problems in the future with drugs or alcohol.

And if your biological child was acting out in such a dramatic way that you couldn’t handle them, there ARE options ranging from hospitalization, incarceration, therapy, medication, inpatient care, group homes.. and those same options apply to adopted kids.

If Coffee and I encounter something ugly – something we can’t handle – we’d have to accept that outside help was required. And we’d make the best decision we could for our kids at that time just like a biological parent would – unhappily but with acceptance that it was needed.

Do you wish you had adopted a baby?
I don’t wish we had adopted a baby. At all. Much as I have no biological urge to procreate, I have no urge to do the things involved with newborns (though I rather like other peoples’ babies!) and I think it would have been a really hard road for us to travel. If we could go back in time, I’d still choose to adopt an older child and not an infant.

Do you regret adopting more than one kid at a time? Would you do it again?
I’d be lying if I said there weren’t moments when I wonder what the hell I was thinking. But those are moments when all three kids are trying to kill each other, screaming and crying, and when I daydream about living in the garage, alone.

We got a ready-made family; we completed our family instantly. It was stressful (and still is, sometimes) and it’s a HUGE adjustment to go from no kids to three kids all at once. But yes, I would absolutely do this again if we could go back in time. The age range we adopted (now 11, 8 and 4) is a fabulous range of independence, childish glee, mindblowing development of new skills, hilarity and curiosity. We’ve got it all!

What’s the biggest misconception you encounter about adopting older kids?
The biggest, most common, is the idea that older kids are all totally fucked up and violent and evil. Boys, especially. I cannot tell you how often I hear, “Oh! My cousin’s neighbour adopted a teenage boy from Russia who tried to kill them all!” or something similar. Then they eye me like I’m insane for adopting older kids.

In the adoption world, a lot of people use the phrase, “Great kids, bad situation” to describe the deal. And it’s true. Do my kids have issues? Yes, of course. But we specifically noted to our workers that we couldn’t handle a child who was violent or who had experienced certain traumas. We’re not skilled in that. And so, we didn’t get kids who were violent or who had experienced certain things. We got kids who have issues that we can handle and issues we can help them to grow beyond.

What happened to my kids is not their fault. They didn’t come into the foster care system because of anything THEY did or didn’t do. And yet, in the abstract, people would consider them “damaged” and “dangerous”? That’s ridiculous.

I think that’s part of why I want to speak openly about adoption and, in particular, older child adoption. Because the stereotypes aren’t always true. I don’t deny that there are kids out there with severe problems who are damaged in extreme ways. And I know, too, that those kids need specialized help that a normal family can’t provide.

But it is absolutely possible for “the average person” to adopt “an average kid” who has no issues beyond being an older kid in need of a family and who, quite likely, knows that the world is not always fair.

Phew. That was long, wasn’t it?! I’m not going to read this to the group – just fleshing out my thoughts a bit. Am I making sense? Should I talk more about something specific? Any other questions? Feel free to comment or email me and I’ll work on it.

Oldest One is exceptionally possessive about many things. He’d prefer if you didn’t touch anything that he’s ever liked – even if it doesn’t belong to him.

But the biggest thing for him is his clothing.

For a while, laundry day brought near-brawls as he yelled at his brothers for “touching” his clothes as they rooted through the clean laundry to find their own.

He screamed at them for moving anything. He carried on and on if a sock fell out of the basket as they moved things.

He repeatedly made his brothers cry.

Coffee and I got sick of the tears – every week – from all three kids. Laundry shouldn’t be traumatic for the entire family, right?

So we set rules for Oldest One’s clothes.

The first rule is that he is in charge of ALL laundry folding for the kids. His chore is to fold his laundry AND his brothers’ and place neat piles of clothes on the appropriate bed. This means his brothers are not touching HIS clothes or dropping them on the floor.

The second rule is that, since he is so protective of his clothing, there are to be no clothes left on his bedroom floor when he leaves the house during the week.

He asked for, and we bought him, 50 new hangers to help him hang things in the closet (along with the clothes in the drawers).

We told him that any clothes left on the floor will be confiscated – forever – and either donated to Goodwill or given to a brother when they are big enough to wear it. No exceptions. No option to beg for something back or whine about the unfairness of it. (The exceptions are socks and underpants.)

We also told him that if he lost all of his clothes, he’d need to use his allowance to purchase more. And since his allowance is $11/week, he’d probably need to buy them at Value Village. And no, we’re not kidding.

He seemed to find this concept amusing.

He joked about going to school and telling his teachers that we were “taking away” his clothes. We shrugged and said we were fine with that – he’s got the power to keep that from happening.

And y’know, he’s been fine with the folding of laundry – pleased, even. He does a really good job of it, too.

He’s definitely been not-so-fine with the clothing on the floor.

As of this morning, I have two giant garbage bags full of clothing in the basement that I scooped from his floor. Bags stuffed with jeans and shirts and jamma pants and all manner of clothing.

For weeks he’s been shrugging off the loss of these clothes. I reminded him for the first two weeks that he needed to pick up the clothes or I’d take them – and ten minutes later he’d leave the house and I’d go upstairs and take all the clothes from his floor.

Repeat the next day.

We’re not sure if he figured we were bluffing (and would eventually return the clothes to him) or if he thought he had enough clothes to last him the rest of his life even if he left some on the floor each day.

But after weeks of ignoring the warnings, this morning he came downstairs and, tearfully, told me that he had no clean t-shirts. (Laundry day was Sunday.. it’s only Wednesday..)

I told him to go check his closet and his drawers and, if he really had no clothes to wear, we’d go to Value Village where he could use his allowance to purchase clothes.

He glared at me.

He had, for a few months, a room that was literally stuffed with clothes. We bought him some, of course, and he was given bags of clothing (hand-me-down) from some of my friends. He had so many clothes he didn’t even recognize some of them as being his own.

And now? Now he’s realizing that the stack of clothing was not, in fact, bottomless. He’s realizing we weren’t kidding about the need to keep the clothes in good shape.

He did find something to wear this morning – jeans and a t-shirt – so the immediate “crisis” has apparently been averted. I’m hoping he’s learned his lesson about this. We’re not bluffing or kidding and he really does need to take care of his stuff.

Consequences…

On Monday he came home from school and said that his bike tire had burst, unexpectedly, while he was riding. He walked the bike home and asked if we could fix it.

Knowing that bike tires can be popped quite easily by thorns or glass or sharp rocks, we didn’t worry about it. I went out yesterday to pick up a new tube and Coffee planned to put it on last night.

But we discovered that it wasn’t just a popped tube.

Instead, it was a hole worn through the tire and through the tube. Most of the treads are gone from the tire.

Coffee has warned him many times in the past month that skidding repeatedly instead of simply braking would wear through the tire. We warned him he’d have to pay to replace the tire using his allowance.

Y’see, we cover acts of god – not acts of Oldest One after he’s been warned.

So this morning he discovered that no, he wasn’t riding his bike to school today.

And he discovered that he had “no clean clothes” to wear.

Consequences are a bitch.

I told him we weren’t buying candy – we had a list of things to buy and candy wasn’t one of them and, hey, we don’t buy candy every time we run an errand.

So..

He tried to look CUTE for candy.

He tried DEMANDING candy.

He BEGGED for candy.

He CRIED for candy.

He stomped and he yelled and he told me he hated me. He refused to walk beside me. He yelled some more with his little arms crossed and tears streaming down his face.

Then he brought out the big guns and announced that he would like to go back to live with his foster mom now, please, because he LIKES HER BETTER.

After his weeping, yelling and stomping fit, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit tempted to chuck him in the car and leave him on her front porch with a note saying, “HE LIKES YOU BETTER. GOOD LUCK! PS: HE STILL REALLY LIKES CANDY.” but I figured his brothers might be mad and Coffee might be peeved and how the hell would I explain THAT to our social worker, anyway?

(Plus? He’s really cute. And he’s snuggly.)

Instead, I smiled and said, “Well, that’s not an option. We’re a family and families stick together even when they’re mad!”

Truthfully, I’m surprised it has taken him so long to bust that one out. After the first few weeks in which he had spontaneous, “I want her” sobbing fits, he hasn’t said much other than his usual complaint about one of the biological sons that lived there. He brings THAT complaint up with stunning regularity. But nothing about wanting to live there again..

I’m curious as to whether or not he’ll use it again – or try to – since he didn’t get a big reaction.

Next up, one of them will need to shout, “YOU’RE NOT MY *REAL* MOM.” and I’ll know I’m actually living in some sort of an adoption stereotype.

When I opened the mailbox, I found the neighbourhood newsletter tucked inside. I also found two gnomes.

No one, as of yet, has stepped forward to take responsibility for these tiny gnomes. It has been a few weeks since I found them.

Every single time I see them – on the kitchen window ledge with my little Schleich animal collection – I get giddy. Every time I think of someone “driveby gnoming” me, I grin.

RANDOM GNOMES. What more does the world need?


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