Saturday, March 24, 2007

Meeting #2

Sorry for the late post, for those of you who a) actually read this, and b) know that the meeting was Thursday night.

If possible, this session was even more frustrating than the second. Looking back on what we learned (more below), I can see now that it was really only frustrating on a superficial level, which means that I'm a pretty superficial guy.

I'm sure that's a natural consequence of being so incredibly good-looking and devilishly charming, but still, it's a hard lesson to learn . . .

Seriously, though. Session 2 taught us about the Foster Process. How do kids get into DFACs custody, what are the steps that everyone in the process must take, what are the possible conclusions and outcomes, etc. Tough stuff.

Now, none of the 3 couples in our class are up for Foster Care, so I didn't really think this was that important. And so I spent a good deal of time tackling our War & Peace-sized stack of application papers. But I did realize near the end (and even more on later reflection) that we have a much better grasp of what these kids have been through, are going through, and what potentialities they face.

It all boils down to this in my mind: these kids families are pretty awful; they are in for a tough time in Foster Care, but that's still better than where they came from; and they should be put with wonderful families like the folks we know.

It seems to me that Georgia DFACS has, as an institution, an unhealthy attachment keeping "natural families" together. Now, I have some thoughts on this that partially arise from my own family experience, but I'm with Solomon.

Remember the story? Where 2 women come to King Solomon, both claiming that the baby was hers? He says to cut the baby in half, one woman says, "Fine," and the other woman says, "No! Give her the baby instead!" Then Solomon gives the baby to the second woman.

The Bible doesn't say which woman was the actual mother. I say it doesn't matter. DFACS would say that it does, and that the first woman, if the child's natural mother (the "egg donor and incubator" in 4boyhouse parlance) should be given a couple of years to get her act together and rethink the whole baby-splitting thing, all the while the kid lives in limbo.

Give the kid to the one who cares. Period. End of sentence. Blood may be thicker than water, but sweat and tears trump even that.

Whew. Once again, this is why I'm not signing up for Foster Care. Yet.

We also looked at some examples of picture books ("Life books"?). These are little picture albums that are shown to the child (or the pregnant mother, in the case of Infant Adoption), to show them what wonderful folks the adoptive family are. It's a marketing brochure, plain and simple. Not that I'm cynical. These are necessary, since the kids can't come and live with each family for a week to see which one they'd like best.

But the whole thing is macabre, just a little. I get the feeling that, if we put enough Disney World pictures in, or show the kids playing on the neighbor's trampoline, or show the creek, or the cat, then we just might be able to edge out the other families, "Woohoo! We won! Use more colors next time, suckers. Stencils might help, too."

Still, it's the best of a bad situation, and I realize that my disgust of this whole process comes from my wish that the situation didn't exist. I wish that these kids could all have good families, that there was no need for DFACS or Bethany Christian Services. I would gladly give up my own wants if these kids could naturally, by default have the families they so desperately need.

But they don't, and so we will go on. We'll make a book, and try to (non-cynically) display our family in the way to best represent what it's like to live here.

As I was thinking about this earlier today, I thought, "We'll have to arrange to get pictures of our extended families." Then I realized that we wouldn't. All Glory and Honor to God, we see those folks quite a lot.

We saw my wife's family today for the three March birthdays, and we'll see my side of the family tomorrow for another birthday. The only arranging we'll have to do is to get everyone to stand still long enough to get a picture. The lovely, wonderful, warm chaos of these get-togethers will be hard to capture in a picture, or an album, or in words.

They are a life to be lived, a life of sharing to be shared.

And now I've made myself cry.

Until next week.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

My First Adoption FAQ

1. A FAQ? How hackneyed and overdone. Why a FAQ?
Wow, thanks for that vote of confidence, and what a great way to start. I'm doing a FAQ for several reasons:

a) I've been redoing our FAQ's for the past few weeks at work. It's a format that I'm comfortable with and one that is too stuck in my brain for me to compose in any other way.

b) We've been working through these same issues/questions for about a year now. In my mind, at least, they're still formed as questions, not stories. Stories get told, questions get asked and answered.

c) Contrary to popular opinion, I love Dean Barnett's FAQ's over at hughhewitt.com. They're one of my favorite things on that site, and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. At least, that's what my Mom always said.

2. Adopting? Are you crazy?
Yes, we're adopting (or, to be more precise, we're beginning the process of adopting).

No, we're not crazy. At least, none of us here have been professionally diagnosed as such. There will be some sort of evaluation as part of the process, so if that diagnosis changes, you'll be one of the first to know.

3. You've already got 4 kids. How many do you want?
Well, the Sunday School answer is, "Jesus." Just kidding (although I did get that answer last week, in Sunday School, to a question whose answer was most decidedly not "Jesus;" so it's not just a cliche).

But the Sunday School answer, for us, is, "We want as many kids as God sends our way."

As a practical matter, this time around the block, we're looking to adopt 2 more kids, preferably a sibling pair, preferably girls.

To get back to the Sunday School answer, I had asked my wife a few weeks ago (after we had decided on 2 more kids and on a Toyota Sienna as the 8-passenger vehicle of choice) what would happen if someone we knew died and we got their 3 or 4 kids to raise. Without missing a beat, without looking away from the dishes, she said, "We'll get a bigger van."

So there you go.

4. How do you plan on feeding and schooling all those kids?
To be honest, we don't plan on it. We're going by faith that God will provide for whatever kids He sends our way. Again, to quote a very wise woman, "Do you really think that God would give you those children and then not provide for them?" No ma'am, I don't.

He is already giving us everything we need for our current crop of kids, sometimes miraculously, sometimes through the generosity of friends and family. But He is faithful. Why would He stop now?

5. Sam just finished potty-training. Do you really want to go back to diapers again?
Eek! No! Why does everyone assume that adoption means babies? No babies, please. I mean, maybe. Perhaps. But we're not seeking out infants or toddlers.

Our main age limit is that we don't want anyone older than Timothy, for a variety of reasons. Also, if (if, and if) we get another boy, we'd like for him to be younger than Stephen. But, aside from mathematical and biological limits, we have no lower boundary on ages.

6. If you want more kids so badly, why not have them yourself?
We can't. 'Nuff said.

7. Why not just support kids through places like Compassion International?
We do already, and we'd like to add more. But we've got a pretty big house, and a pretty welcoming family, and there are kids here in Georgia without either. So we'll do that too, unless there's a rule that says you can't do both. And there's not, is there?

8. Where are you going to put them?
Well now, that's a good question.

Actually, it's more of an issue before the adoption rather than after. Right now, our kids double up in rooms, and sometimes even in beds. Why? Because they like it. Jonah and Sam are the only people in the house who sleep in their own bed, and Jonah is the only one who likes the arrangement. But even they share a room.

Timothy has expressed interest in the past of having his own room. But he won't sleep by himself, so it's a moot point. So once the new kids join the family (in the strictest, DFACs-related, legal sense), we'll treat those kids just like family and put them in rooms in a way that best fits their wants and available square footage. My guess is that they'll want to share a room with each other.

Plus, we have an extra bedroom downstairs that Timothy and Stephen have been eying (they think the computer will stay in there once they move in; it will not). And there's also the other half of my office that we had already planned on finishing out as a teenager bedroom. We'll just do it 10 years early if necessary.

But, during Placement, when the new kids live with us for 6 months before we adopt, DFACs says they can't be in mixed gender rooms, as well as other potential requirements. So, during that time, we may squeeze all 4 of our current crop into the truly gargantuan room that Timothy and Stephen share right now. Seriously, we could put two double-bed lofts in that room and not make a dent in available space.

So yes, we've thought about it, and this blessed, God-provided house can accommodate whatever Bethany Christian Services can throw at it.

9. Girls? Do you know how to deal with girls?
No. But my wife is a girl, and I assume she'll help out some. Plus, we had a girl stay with us for 3 whole days. And she neither died nor turned into a boy, so we can't be too bad at it.

Seriously, though. I didn't know how to deal with boys 9 years ago. But I prayed a lot, read some books, talked with other folks who have kids, and asked my own parents tons of questions. Then I prayed more.

And I assume that God's provision doesn't stop at checks in the mail. He also provides wisdom, patience, peace, etc.

10. First Adoption FAQ? You mean there'll be more?
Perhaps.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Meeting #1

Well, our first training meeting was last night. And, contrary to the warning we received from some friends, I did not cry. I did come close, though, on two occassions.

The first was when our instructor walked in 15 minutes after class was supposed to begin, put down the unfinished booklets, looked around and said, "There are supposed to be more couples here. We'll wait for them." Then she walked out of the room. Actually, my inner corporate trainer did cry, just a little.

The second near-tear event was more serious, as she was telling the story of a brother & sister pair who didn't want to go back to their foster family after visiting with the potential adoptive family. Needless to say, none of the foster families we know are this bad (and fostering friends keep coming out of the woodwork: "Oh yeah, we're foster parents too!" is a common email subject heading these days. God bless y'all, but you are all crazy.)

And so, no tears after session 1. The other sessions may turn out differently. On session 3 we get fingerprinted, and on the last session we have a CPR class. I'm not looking forward to either of those. But I wasn't looking forward to the "get to know each other/break the ice" game either, but that turned out well enough. There was a couple named Ken & Teri (sp?) who are looking to adopt a 5 year old or younger, and another couple named Jim & Susan who are looking to adopt a teenager (they have 3 already, and are apparently as disturbed as I am by having an odd number of children).

Along with our book (really a 3 ring binder) for the course, we also got a similarly sized stack of application forms to fill out. It's at least 100 pieces of paper, some double-sided. Knowing my handwriting, my wife had volunteered to help me fill them out. But then she saw the stack and gave me a look that said, "You're on your own."

Oh, well. Keeping the goal in mind, etc.

My Mom, brave woman, kept the boys, plus an extra. One of Stephen's friends came over to spend the night last night (their school is out for a workday today), and so my poor dear Mother had to deal with an extra 7 year old. She handled it very well, of course, and the boys behaved excellently, all things considered. The 6 of them did manage to put away 2 Freschetta pizzas, which worries me and my wallet immensely. Sam and Jonah apparently had pizza for dessert. But 2 pizzas, gone? Oy.

I don't know who the lucky person is who'll get the boys next week, but slots are still available in April. If you register early, I may throw in a free CD. It'll be a random title, one that I pick up off my office floor. But it'll be all yours in all its cat hair covered splendor.