We are down to the last few steps of being licensed foster parents. We only need our two remaining references to be completed and to find a flipping FBI-approved site for our fingerprinting. I just read a report that said nearly a quarter of a million people contact the foster system each year to inquire about adoption but only about 8% make it through the homestudy process. I feel like a mighty warrior, one of the chosen few.
In addition to listening to the Rocky Theme in my head as I lumber up the foster care staircase, I have been babysitting my four-month-old nephew. He is adorable and ridiculously fat and looks a lot like I did when I was an infant chunker. It is giving me a chance to practice handling two kids under three at the same time. I have to say it sucks. Babies are heavy and floppy and Quincy insists he is the baby.
Today my back is aching from carrying Aiden in the carseat and my head is pounding from Q's many "I'm the baby" meltdowns. Still tonight I gave my nephew a bath in the kitchen sink with Kevin's help while Quincy watched ardently. So yeah juggling two kids is hard, but it is also really, really special.
I can't wait.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Ketchup and Mayo
Our parenting class for Jewish Family and Children's Services was held on Jan. 12th. It was quite an experience. I knew that the class would not actually cover anything that has anything to do with day-to-day parenting. Real parenting covers how to get your kid to eat something other than candy canes and McNuggets. This class covers basic first aid, which is nice but not detailed enough to be really useful, and how to recognize grief and depression in children, and what to do if your baby turns out to be psycho. The class information was not that helpful for me because I have been researching adoption and foster care related issues for a while now so it was mostly old news.
What was really illuminating was to listen to the social workers and recognize how helpful they would not be once we became foster parents. What I learned was that I was willingly entering a Kafka-inspired bureaucratic nightmare where I would be expected to conform to set requirements even if they are beyond logic and reason, even if they are completely impractical, impossible, and possibly dangerous.
Case in point: Medical insurance. All foster children have medical insurance, not state insurance that is accepted by everyone, but Health Partners, which is basically garbage and accepted by hardly anyone. I asked, "Wouldn't it make more sense for me to use my personal insurance to cover my foster child so I could take him to my local doctor versus trying to drive out of my way to find a doctor who takes Health Partners?"
Social Worker: Yes, but we don't do it that way.
Me: What if I can get to a Health Partners doctor?
SW: Well there is always the emergency room.
Me: But infants have a lot of appointments and they get sick all the time. How can I take care of my foster child and my other child and still work if I am drive all over town, trying to find a Health Partners doctor, or sitting for 18 hours in an ER?
SW: That is certainly something for you to consider.
So I guess I did learn a lot from our class. Kevin listened attentively during the class and at one point I asked what did he think of this convoluted quagmire we were about to enter.
He looked up from his notes, which turned out to be random, rude comments and sang "Ketchup and Mayo" the refrain from the McNuggets commercial.
God, I love my husband.
What was really illuminating was to listen to the social workers and recognize how helpful they would not be once we became foster parents. What I learned was that I was willingly entering a Kafka-inspired bureaucratic nightmare where I would be expected to conform to set requirements even if they are beyond logic and reason, even if they are completely impractical, impossible, and possibly dangerous.
Case in point: Medical insurance. All foster children have medical insurance, not state insurance that is accepted by everyone, but Health Partners, which is basically garbage and accepted by hardly anyone. I asked, "Wouldn't it make more sense for me to use my personal insurance to cover my foster child so I could take him to my local doctor versus trying to drive out of my way to find a doctor who takes Health Partners?"
Social Worker: Yes, but we don't do it that way.
Me: What if I can get to a Health Partners doctor?
SW: Well there is always the emergency room.
Me: But infants have a lot of appointments and they get sick all the time. How can I take care of my foster child and my other child and still work if I am drive all over town, trying to find a Health Partners doctor, or sitting for 18 hours in an ER?
SW: That is certainly something for you to consider.
So I guess I did learn a lot from our class. Kevin listened attentively during the class and at one point I asked what did he think of this convoluted quagmire we were about to enter.
He looked up from his notes, which turned out to be random, rude comments and sang "Ketchup and Mayo" the refrain from the McNuggets commercial.
God, I love my husband.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Good news, bad news
Good news, my friends have agreed to write our refences for the foster care agency. It is so sweet to think there are are people out ther writing nice things about me and Kevin and our wonderful parenting skills.
Bad news, Quincy the shining example of our wonderful parenting skills is still refusing to sleep. He spent much of the night getting out of bed and protesting. When he cries it just tears my heart out. But I know if he sleeps in our bed no one sleeps.
Good news, our parenting classes start January 12th! That is right around the corner and I am so excited.
Bad news, I have terrible cramps that are defying all painkillers known to man and I cannot fall asleep myself I have to interview a HVAC contractor first thing in the morning and make some ridiculous, fantasy, I don't know what I am doing budget for one of my volunteer groups.
Good news, bad news, exhausted news. I am going to try to sleep.
Bad news, Quincy the shining example of our wonderful parenting skills is still refusing to sleep. He spent much of the night getting out of bed and protesting. When he cries it just tears my heart out. But I know if he sleeps in our bed no one sleeps.
Good news, our parenting classes start January 12th! That is right around the corner and I am so excited.
Bad news, I have terrible cramps that are defying all painkillers known to man and I cannot fall asleep myself I have to interview a HVAC contractor first thing in the morning and make some ridiculous, fantasy, I don't know what I am doing budget for one of my volunteer groups.
Good news, bad news, exhausted news. I am going to try to sleep.
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