emailed to my son's therapist tonight:

Koren,

Here's a running list of B's issues this weekend. I updated every few hours, and some issues were forgotten and are not listed here.

yelled and cried because I wouldn't take him to his friend's house until he cleaned off the crayon marks in the car

took L's stuffed animal and started to cut off its ear with scissors

yelled and cried because I wouldn't call his friend since he yelled and cried

said he didn't care when I told him that his yelling was giving me a bad headache

at the grocery store: play fighting with J, wrapping his arm around all three kids' heads and necks, loud and disrespectful

cried and howled because he didn't know how to clean the crayon

fussed at me while I put the groceries away because I wasn't getting the cleaning solution out of the garage fast enough for him

yelled NO when I told him to help me with groceries so I could get the cleaning solution faster

GOOD: cleaned the crayon marks off

yelled and berated and backtalked all of us while he cleaned the car. acted like he was going to spray the cleaning solution in V's face

fell apart because his friend wasn't home

at snack, wouldn't eat taquitos because he wanted chicken nuggets. then wouldn't eat chicken nuggets. threw papers from the counter all over the living room and dining room.

fussed the whole time we were at karate because he was starving....until the very end of the karate tournament, when I was ready to go and he wanted to stay ;)

when we got home, he wanted to go to the park. I still had a bad headache and was tired from all the harrassment all day so I didn't take him. he can't go by himself because he and a boy up the street harrass each other to the point that the police had to come last time. he told the kids they were going to the park, then J was so disappointed that he joined B in yelling and arguing with me about going to the park. B threw the word 'retarded' and 'stupid' around and almost got J to go outside with him anyway.

B and J played a game of dodgeball with J' soccer ball. B threw the ball at the girls in their room and made one cry. I took the ball away and B said "his (birth)mother gave him that. you're always telling me not to mess with his birthmother. now look what you're doing to him."  .... ok, I gave that ball to J, and I told B not to make 'yo mama' jokes to the littles any more.

B made himself a salad (the food I had set aside for dinner), made a big mess, and left half the salad and the mess in the kitchen

got J to play fight (which is against the rules because the CPS worker is wary of J' complaints that B hits him). refused to stop.

he went in the girls' room and walked on their beds trying to engage them in play wrestling. then he took their stuffed animals and pegged all three of them with the animals. wouldn't give the toys back when told.

*************ok this list happened between noon and 5pm on Saturday. I'll try to update more tonight.

OK, B and J were up in the loft together and being way too quiet. I called them down. B got irate that I told him what to do. Then he refused to feed the dogs.

When everyone came to the dinner table, B put his butt in everyone's faces and fake farted with a ball pump (.end of the tube in his armpit). Everyone told him sharply to stop but he refused.

At the dinner table, he screamed at L and V for taking all the taco cheese. Then he took the bowl of taco meat and refused to take any and refused to give it to anyone. I gave him three chances to take some, then I physically pried it out of his hands.

He put the ball pump tube in his water and blew bubbles. Then he put the armpit tube in J' water and then my water. He started blowing bubbles into a salad with ranch and spattering ranch everywhere. By that time I had the littles bring their food into the kitchen to eat quickly and go upstairs.

B blocked our way upstairs.

I made B stay away from the bedrooms and bathrooms so he wouldn't harrass the kids while they took showers. He physically tried to push through me to get to the area of the house he couldn't get to, constantly, for 15 minutes. Except when he threw clean folded sheets at me.

While I read to the girls, he waved his Halloween scythe at them.

J found out that the envelope with his lost tooth was missing. B told us he didn't steal it, but he hid it. Wouldn't tell me where. I told J he would still get his tooth fairy treat since it wasn't his fault he couldn't put the tooth under his pillow.

I was in tears and reminded him that he was in control of his choices. I got my phone and told him that he would make better choices or he is not staying here. Over the next few minutes, I dialed a 9 and a 1 ....

While I read to J, B stood at the door and loudly sang "if I die young, lay me down in a bed of roses" until I left J's room.

Then I got the dogs to their kennels and came to bed. AT 7:30. It's the only place I can go in the house to eventually get away from B. I say eventually because it takes a while to get away ...

B followed me to my room and sat on my bed and bounced up and down hard for about 12 minutes, singing that "If I die young" song. He took a couple of breaks to fuss at the girls in the next room because they are still talking. He just stopped bouncing, and turned on my light and is going through the stuff on my bookshelf. OK, now he is asking me who I am emailing. Is it about me?? he says. I tell him "I love you but I am not talking to you right now". He says "No you don't."

He is going to sit here and watch me or mess with my stuff until he gets bored or tired. He does not want to go to bed and he does not want to be alone. This usually takes anywhere from 30 minutes to two hours.

He is in the hall now. He told V to get in her own bed (she is in bed with L). He called her "fricking nasty" and "pervert". I've now dialed 9-1-1 and will hit send with one more problem. I will ask for transport to a hospital or somewhere other than here.

"I'm going. See ya. Have a nice life" ... he's not leaving. He is afraid of the dark.

He totally knows what he is doing is wrong. He totally enjoys the conflict he causes here. I don't think that once he gets going he knows how to stop until he gets bored or tired.

Please tell me what you think and what we should do.

I'll hit send now, on Saturday at 8pm. You've heard enough ;)

it happened ...

CPS is questioning the safety of my foster children based on what one of them reported to a social worker. So far, only emails have been flying, and no one has come for a home visit. Two social workers visited the kids at school, when the statement was made. The kids' adoption case worker said that she still intends to submit the adoption paperwork for court approval on National Adoption Day. I think she was just covering her butt with all those emails, since she has not been attentive at all during the past six months, but I feel like I got hit by a bus and turned inside out.

Maybe I'll write more about this later.

bawlin' like a baby...

Tonight Brennan went on his first date to his first high school dance in his first suit. When his date walked in my front door (her mom is driving them to the dance) he gave her a rose that he had cleaned the house for 30 minutes to earn the money for. Her mom asked them to stand close together to take pictures, her with a pretty dress and curled hair, holding the bloom of the rose just under her chin; him with a calm, content, manly look on his face, standing close to her but not too close, and I started tearing up. For the first time ever, HE told ME to suck it up, thinking that being overly emotional was not appropriate. If you knew Brennan, you'd understand how ironic that is. They walked out the door, and I couldn't close the door fast enough because I started bawlin' like a baby. I called my go-to person in times like this, and told her that I was crying because they looked so beautiful, and he was growing up so fast, and all the typical reasons a mom cries on a night like tonight. Then I went upstairs to have a moment of privacy on the phone, because I realized the real reason I was crying: Tonight Brennan was NORMAL. Just a normal guy on a normal date with a normal girl to a normal dance at a normal school...
...and I was so happy for him to have this experience in his life
...and I was so proud of him for being so mature, calm, and content
...and I was so heartbroken that he has severe difficulties that make nights like this seem so
   ABNORMAL for him
...and I was so heartbroken that the dance will be over and he will return to his version of normal by morning

My go-to person said that this may be a turning point for him and he will realize the benefits of controlling his anger and other emotions. With little confidence I said 'yeah' because if Brennan keeps it together when he gets home tonight, I'll be walking on egg shells until his 'normal' facade peels away and he returns to normal.

OK...time to go. My little girls were inspired by Brennan's dates' beauty. They have put on their very fanciest dresses and done their hair. We're going to snuggle, watch a movie, and eat popcorn. It's amazing how being with my three little ones feels so normal.

WOW

I just had an amazing dream...

I had a boyfriend. Not just any boyfriend... a pro basketball player! I had amazing clothes and hair and looked like a model. He was handsome, but not very tall. We were walking through the courtyard of his condo complex (as if) and found a professional video camera, and tried to return it to the lost and found but the office was closed. Two people who looked like convenience store clerks were in the office filling the vending machines. They wouldn't let us leave the camera in the lost and found. We decided to keep it with us so it wouldn't get stolen in the courtyard. Then I was another glamorous woman dating another smitten sports star. We were deciding what to buy for dinner at the grocery store. Easy cheesy decision making, and it felt wonderful to make the decision with a partner. Yep, that was the underlying message of my dream. Plus, sometimes I really miss feeling attractive to guys.

Back to the reality I chose and am glad to call mine. Glad? I couldn't think of a stronger word since it's 6am and my brain won't be awake until at least 7. With four kids and five dogs, I am usually in track shorts and a tshirt. I have a farmers tan and short hair which needs cutting. I do not have time for stylish clothes, makeup or looking amazing for a date. I am ok with this. I do not miss dating or relationships 95% of the time. I am way too busy and way too focused. My eyes are always on the prize, but the prize is not a beautiful, wealthy man. It is well adjusted, successful, happy children.

Please excuse the typos. There must be some...I don't even have my glasses on yet.

funny stuff

My younger son just said "shuma kama kama kama kama" in his sleep. He must be having a Pokemon dream. Earlier tonight, I told him in frustration that it was ridiculous that he was complaining so much. He told me "No! You are ridiculous because you think you are the boss of everything!" One day he'll figure it out...

My older son did fairly well today despite a routine visit from a social worker. Instead of being on his best behavior during the visit then raging all evening afterwards, he had a crying fit during the visit, then was fairly tolerable for the rest of the day. Amazing progress. I am very proud of him.

He now wants to join the Air Force in a few years. I don't think they'll take him, but if he works hard enough on himself, there's always a chance. It's up to him to make it happen. I will fully support his decision if he puts effort into getting physically and emotionally into shape.

More frivolously, I am loving my tan. I am out in the Phoenix sun 3-4 hours a day, including the kids' golf lessons, swimming or the water park, and running errands. I would feel better about my looks if I lost about 10 pounds. Not gonna happen unless I stop propelling myself forward through each crazy day using regular doses of chocolate...

foster kid logic...

...from son two: "Why are you adopting us? We are destroying your house."

Telling, huh?

Foster Kid Logic #1: We are destroying your house so you won't adopt us (they really want me to adopt them but are pushing me away in fear that they will have to move to their sixth placement).

Foster Kid Logic #2: We are destroying this house because we do not value it (they don't understand the value of a home, and do not feel attached enough to this home to feel invested in making it a comfortable, love-filled home). Add in the natural qualities of messy kids....

Foster Kid Logic #3: We can't believe you are keeping us even though we are destroying something important to you (they don't understand the finality of this placement, they think they can cause this placement to end, and most upsetting, they think that when they move from place to place, it must be their fault).

I have ALOT of work to do.

I have an interesting way of gaging son two's attachment to me in any particular moment: I kiss my hand and put the kiss on his face. If he peels the kiss off his face and throws it across the room, I laugh and tell him I'll get him later. If he looks at me and smiles, and gives me a kiss back, I spend a few moments bonding with him. What does that say about my older son's response to me blowing him kisses from his doorway as I leave his bedroom at bedtime (he grabs them from the air and puts them in his pocket)?

A fearless friend, Chase, hangs out with one or more of my children about once a week to help them attend activities that I can not split myself into four selves in order to attend. Sometimes he comes over and helps clean the kitchen and floors, which is a never-ending job with four kids and five dogs. Sometimes we all go out together. Anyway, he was over two days ago after taking Brennan to the Y to work out. He and I were secretly chuckling about all the crazy kid things that were happening all around us. A week's worth of healing for me within five minutes of laughing with a friend... I told Chase that I have learned so much by parenting Brennan, and so much more from parenting my three new kids that I am confident that I will fost/adopt again in about 18 months. I had expected the standard comment "you're crazy!" but I should not expect the standard from him. He SEES me. He responded, "That's brilliant."

Sidenote: My littles ask me frequently to marry Chase. From their Hispanic background, they have not experienced a single parent family quite like mine. I have known this precious guy for 8 years, but since he is 15 years younger, and just a friend, marriage is not likely. I do expect that Chase and another dear friend, Frank, will always be in my life.

I tried to meet everyone's immediate needs....

then told them "Don't kill each other while I'm in the bathroom." Oldest son laughed, knowing how appropriate my prediction was. Two minutes later, all four kids and at least three dogs are hovering around my bathroom door, not wanting to be far from me for more than a moment. One of them is laying on the floor looking at my feet through the 1/2 inch crack between my door and the floor. Repeated questions of "What are you doing?" and "What's taking so long?" only get answered with "I'll be out soon." and "I love you." This works!

Yes, I type this from the potty. This is the only chance I'll have all day.

Happy 14th birthday, dear Brennan! I have always loved you, and I always will. God bless you as you take the next steps toward being a healthy, successful adult.

when will I learn?

I am working against a gang mentality between my two sons. I am terrified for their futures together and with others that will lead or follow them in the future. Son two lies easily as if he can not tell that his version of what happened is just not true. AND HE STOLE MY CHOCOLATE STASH tonight from the very top of the pantry.I knew I shouldn't have stashed it there. That bit of chocolate is the only thing that keeps me sane some days. When we stop for icees on the way to the children's museum tomorrow (because it is 116 degrees here) I'll remind him that my chocolate cost the same amount as an icee, meaning he doesn't get one.

Yesterday, son one was targeting daughter one as usual, as their almost identical demeanors often set each other off. Because he repeatedly threatened to hit her, I got her in the car, knowing that I had left my cell phone in the house, and went to the library. We had a nice time together, but while I was gone I knew he was flipping the couch over, punching the blinds to break the slats, and throwing my phone. I had a sick feeling in my stomach about the phone but tried to have a good time with my daughter. I was right...I got back an hour later to a house that had been trashed but then kind of cleaned up. The couch was turned upright again, and my dear lifeline, my cell phone, was broken in half. My son impressed me with a mature admittal, apology, and solution. I acknowledged his maturity, but was too angry and mournful to speak about my phone. I still am. I simply can not afford the $150 to replace it.

Before each incident happened, I knew that it was going to happen. When am I going to learn to stop and listen to my gut instinct no matter how swept away I am in constant chores and needful children?

There is so much more to process and share, but right now I just need chocolate.

the dogs are so confused...

what a wacky schedule I have today. back and forth into town three times for different appointments. each trip into town is 30 minutes each way. look, I don't even have time to capitalize, apparently!

OK, here we go.

9:00 leave (I better take a fast shower!)
9:30 appointment with the behavior specialist at my adoption agency.
10:30 home, clean toilets
11:00 leave
11:30 vet appt for Holly, sore tooth and rabies shot
12:30 home - drop off Holly and I better remember to eat
1:00 leave
1:30 pick up little kids at summer camp
2:15 daughter one doctor appointment
3:30 home, straighten up
4:30 CPS routine monthly visit at home
5:30 BREATHE

Thank God for answering my prayer yesterday. Son one's new counselor knows exactly how to explain things to him, and he listened. Last night was MUCH easier.

Moving forward (to a 2-minute shower),

Jen

oops

I overslept today, waking up when the little kids' transportation to summer school arrived. Oops.

Son one, pictured below, has his first counseling appointment today. This counselor REALLY needs to get through to him immediately or I am afraid my littles will have to be removed. Son one is angry at me for "ruining his life", even though he was completely on board with this adoption until two weeks after they arrived. I can't visualize how this will play out, but I fear for the worst...

Some will say to me "I told you so."

I have the right to adopt more children. Son one does not have the right to take that away from me.

I advise him repeatedly that the children will not leave due to his behavior, but that he will have to leave (by police car) if he breaks the law. It will break my heart to make that call. So far, he stops and directs his anger verbally on me when I pull out the phone. It will devastate me to send a 13 year old to jail. It will devastate me to lose my littles. What about my rights?!

New counselor, and God, PLEASE HELP!

Now on to laundry and floors,

Jen

Me and son one

Rough day, but almost over...

quiet time

Weekend mornings usually start around 6:30 with me realizing that the little kids are already downstairs watching TV (I hope). I am the kind of person who needs to hit snooze once or twice before I can become awake enough to stand up without falling over. I lay in bed assessing whether the kids are being good downstairs and trying to remember what day it is and what I need to accomplish.

Then I wash my face, put my eyes on (glasses), and start feeding. I make a quick breakfast for the littles. Today was peanut butter on wheat toast and banana smoothies. While they were eating, I fed the dogs. By the time everyone was done eating and we had cleaned up, I made myself a smoothie (peanut butter, banana, and soy milk is my favorite) and sat in peace while the littles watched more TV. Another assessment: kids were content. Son two watching some Beyblade cartoon, and daughters playing dolls. I have gotten 45 mins to myself on the computer!

Time to get cleaning and wake up son one.

Moving forward,

Jen

Forgetful

My memory was not very good before adding my three little kids to the mix. I may use this blog to record odd things to share with social workers. For you adoptive parents, I am sure much of what I say about my children will sound very familiar.

Of course, I will be keeping the identities of my children confidential.

Son one is happy playing with the next door neighbor boy. As soon as he comes home, he gets his gruff on. It's like he has a 'nasty switch' that automatically flips when he walks in the door. Much intensive counseling is lined up, and will start next week.

For breakfast, son two wanted the new cereal I bought yesterday. My rule is to finish the open cereal before starting on a new package of cereal. Otherwise, I would have twelve bags of almost-finished cereal in my pantry, and I am way too anal about my pantry for that. So, I gave him the choice of toast or the 'old' cereal for breakfast. He threw a fit, so I chose toast. He went to school hungry after throwing his cream cheese toast and fresh strawberries across the room. Now my feet are sticky. Ugh!

Despite many threats, daughter two did not run away on foot through the desert at night until she got to Mexico to her birthdad. She's the size of a four year old. Her statements "I hope I die in the desert" disturbed me deeply, though. Hopefully, she's just playing me.

Daughter one hasn't made any trouble at all since four p.m. yesterday, when I gave her the boots I had found for a dollar at Goodwill. She's sweet as sugar. For now!

Son two's new Hulk jigsaw lays in crunched pieces in the floorboard of the car. I can't remember why he raged ... probably because he didn't want to buckle his seatbelt. His head is so full of worries that nothing feels safe to him. He asked me two days ago with fearful eyes "What if you have a baby? Will we have to stay home alone while you are at the hospital? Can you find someone to take care of us?" There is no chance of me having a baby. His old wounds need alot of TLC.

Moving forward,

Jen

First Post

I've been reading a few blogs written by adoptive mothers for the past several months. As I spend each day immersed in children with limited adult contact, I look forward to reading new posts in these journals. Now I also want to be heard. Even if no one else is listening, here is my voice.

Parenting foster/adopted children is HARD.
Parenting alone is HARD.

I rarely say "What was I thinking?!"
I have made my decisions to build my family this way, knowing without doubt that this is what I am supposed to be doing.

Moving forward,

Jen