The Paperwork Is Turned In!

Yes, that took awhile.  After finishing up the applications and accompanying documents (literally hundreds of pages), we received a nice note from Bethany listing the things we still needed to provide.  These included birth certificates (bizarrely, we have one for me, three of the four boys, and not for my wife), marriage license, and my physical.

Ah.  Yes. The physical.  I hate those.

I promise, I was going to get it done in the summer, but I decided to wait until after I recovered from my debilitating chest pain episode and the semi-collapsed lung that resulted from it.  Arguing that my 3-year recovery plan was interfering with her plans, my wife sent me in for the physical.  That's when we found out that I had a broken wrist.

Regardless of all this, I was given a clean physical (although they really got my height wrong), and the honest-to-goodness last document was sent in about a month ago.  

Over the end of the summer and the beginning of school, Bethany sent out a nice young lady to do our home study.  She came once, inspected the house, both for safety (I had to replace a smoke alarm and an outlet cover; the trampoline didn't bother her) and also to make sure we have enough room (we do).  On her second visit, she asked my wife and me a lot of questions.  Thankfully, they were not merely repeats of questions on the application forms.  On her third and final visit, she interviewed the boys.  I could hear her laughing from my office.

So our packet was complete about a month ago.  And Bethany sent it to the State of Georgia for their approval, which we were told would take about a month.  So we wait.

In the meantime, I'm reading a couple of excellent books that a friend from church (with two adopted kids of their own) recommended to us: Adopting the Hurt Child and Parenting the Hurt Child.  I started reading the first one a few months back, and it is excellent.  I recommend them to anyone who is dealing in any way with kids who are or have been involved in the foster care system.

Because of reading these books, and of conversations we've had with other people, we've decided to lower our requested age.  At first, we thought we would be fine with kids who were younger than Timothy.  But now we realize that it would be best for all involved if they were younger than Sam.  God will provide whom he will.

That's it for now.  Updates as events warrant.

Paperwork Is Done!

Ugh.

Not just the length, but the content. Consider questions like:

Describe your personality; include what you view as your strengths and weaknesses. Briefly explain the events and experiences in your life that you feel shaped your personality.

and

What was it like to be a child in your family? What type of activities did your family do together? What were your mother’s strengths? Her weaknesses? Your father’s strengths? His weaknesses? Did you like the way that you were parented? How did your parents discipline you and your siblings? What aspects of parenting do you hope to emulate and what will you avoid?

There seemed to be hundreds of questions like these, each with 4 lines underneath to provide your answers. I'd need several pages to answer truthfully just one of the component questions like the ones above. Four lines? For all those?

Which leads me to believe that they can't be looking for complete or truthful answers. They must have some sort of platitude filter that allows them to spot potential evil folk without any serious answer content.

Perhaps it's the exercise itself. Making it through these questions and providing half-meaningful answers to them shows that you have the patience to finish a tedious task and the ability to muddle through childish modes of thinking and communication.

So, the classes are done (sorry about not posting on the last two meetings; we actually worked on our paperwork during most of them), and the application forms are done. Now there's just a drug test ("Ha!" my wife laughs whenever I complain about getting my drug test. "You're only in trouble if they've outlawed caffeine, or if playing WoW instead of doing paperwork leaves some sort of residue.") and a physical.

I'm moderatly worried about the physical, mostly because I'm worried that they'll find something new. "Hey look! That's a new tumor, right?"

Once those are done, we can turn the first corner on this particular Monopoly board. Paperwork done, there only remains:

• Home studies - where someone from DFACS or BCS comes to our house, looks around, and asks us the same awful questions we answered in our application.
• "Picking" a child or children - just as gut-wrenching as it sounds, from what I hear.
• Placement - Hey, why don't you come live with us for 6 months and we'll "try each other on," all the while pretending that we don't desperately want this fake situation to end so that we can begin the painful yet wonderful task of building a family. And we can let our ulcers nurse us to sleep each night, each with the fear that we've done some little, unknown thing to screw the whole situation up for everyone. Mmm. Good times ahead.
• Finalization - After, and if, we've survived the 6 months relatively intact, we get to begin the wondrous (and certainly brief, right?) process of making it all legally binding. Woohoo! More Limbo!

Bah. Philippians 3:12-14
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

More postings as events warrant.

Meeting #3

Och! Meeting #3, which was not one, but two weeks ago! It totally slipped my mind, sorry. It's been a little busy around here.

Our third session contained not a high quantity of events or information, but scored pretty high on the quality of what happened.

First, we got fingerprinted. Once for FBI, once for GBI (that's Georgia Bureau of Investigations, for those of you who think Georgia leaves it investigatin' to young and earnest rednecks in the employ of crooked, seersucker-suited, plantation-owning judges, or for those of you who think we live in Guam, that bane of "g" overtapping speediness on web forms). But the ink came off with a little soap and water, and I was able to resume eating my Zaxby's chicken fingers without fear of looking like a slightly darker version of a mentat.

Second, we finally abandoned all pretense of time. Nothing happened until 6:45, when the fingerprinting of the 6 of us commenced. And while one person was fingerprinted, the rest of us ate. Class began at around 7:30. And ended at about 8:30, sharp. 6 to 10 my big fat fanny.

However, third, and finally, I have grown really to admire our instructor. Although she works in public education (she's a contract trainer for BCS), she is a rare person there, one who thinks that parents and children are responsible for their own actions. By her own admission, she is not popular among the staff at the school where she works, which just means I'm not sending my kids there. Because she's great, by which I mean she pretty much agrees with me.

What little content we did cover mostly had to do with Erikson's stages of development. Semi-interesting stuff, and I was surprised to remember that I studied this back in college. It was in one of my education classes, and we studied Erikson along with Piaget and Maslov. Dull and repetitive as theories, with lots of religious-type infighting over minor, minor details. I pity Psych majors.

But I was interested by our instructor's use of Erikson, which was general in its referral to the theory but specific in its areas of application to the child. (That's the trouble with using these theories, you can't take Freud, word-for-word as gospel, for example, and apply it to every part of a person's life.)

Basically, her use of Erikson goes like this: children develop in stages, with certain needs that have to be met in each stage. For example, in the first stage, Trust vs. Mistrust (Birth - 2 y.o.), babies learn that their parents are "there for them", that and that the child can express his or her needs and that they will be met by the parents. In Autonomy vs. Shame (2 - 3 y.o.), children learn to control their bodies in ways such as potty training, and in fine motor skills like picking up Cheerios. They also learn that accidents do happen, as well as what feels good vs. what doesn't feel good. Anyone with sick children knows it's much easier to diagnose a 4 year old ("my tummy hurts") than a 2 year old ("I'm don't feel good").

What happens with the kids DFACS gets is that they are developmentally delayed, and may not have passed through these stages, which they have to go through to be able to begin the next one. So if you get a 5 year old and begin teaching her what her proper role is in the family, it may not succeed, because she may not yet understand that you are there for her, and that you will make sure she's fed, and safe, and held, etc. Then you can work on potty training, then you can work on setting the table, and so on.

Interesting stuff, again, so long as the eggheaded, ivory-tower mush is held at arm's length, and the general framework is applied to real-world situations with prodigal doses of common sense.

All in one hour. Not bad.

There was no meeting #4 last week, because it was Spring Break week for most of Atlanta, and the one family in our class with teenagers was going to have to miss it. But then we said, "Please don't throw us in the briar patch! We'll postpone the class!" And our instructor agreed. Hurray!

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.

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.

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.

8 Passenger Seating

So, if you have 4 kids already, and 2 adults, and you plan on adding 2 more kids, that gives you 8 passengers total. Interesting note: most minivans and large SUV's built in the last 15 years max out at 7 passengers. This includes our current family car, a 2001 Honda Odyssey.

And by 7 passengers, I mean 7 seatbelts. This is the Era of Seatbelts, and everyone in the car must wear them. No more rolling around in the back of the car like so many McDonald's wrappers, like we did when I was a kid. No more running up to the front to scare the driver (sorry Mom), no more hiding on the floorboard and feeling the heat through the floormat, no more lying on top of the middle row seat to roll back when the car starts from a light.

Ah, the contusions.

As a parent, though, I love seatbelts. If they made 5-point harnesses for normal cars, I'd get those as an option. And so, if I'm gonna put 8 persons into an automobile, I'm gonna need 8 seatbelts to go with it.

Aye, but there's the rub. Guess what seats 8 folks (or more) very nicely? A van. And guess what kind of vehicle my lovely bride has forbidden from ever darkening her driveway. Ditto. So no vans.

Which leaves us minivans or SUV's. There are 8 passenger SUV's; Honda (dear, beloved Honda) even has one, the Pilot. But the Pilot has about 15 cubic inches of cargo space behind the 3rd row, enough to bring home one (1) frozen pizza, and possibly the receipt. No good for trips, camping, or the inevitable stop at the grocery store on the way home from Church. So the Pilot is out.

The Suburban seats 8, but it's made by GM. I like my cars to actually run without monthly trips to the mechanic, so GM products are out, too. Ditto Ford, Mazda, Chrysler/Dodge. I also like my cars to last more than 5 years, so that rules out lots of other folks too.

How about the Honda Odyssey? The newer models (2004+) have an optional 8th seat, but it's teensy-weensy. If Sam continued in his current practice of not eating anything at all at any time, he might be able to sit in that tiny seat for another two years. So, Odyssey is out. And there was weeping and gnashing of teeth.

So that really just leaves the Toyota Sienna, which started seating 8 folks, as an optional package, with the 2004 models. This is probably what we'll do.

In a year. When and if we actually need it.

You see, I browsed Consumer Reports, joined online chat groups about family cars, and called Toyota and Honda dealerships to get info about a car that I might need. One year in advance. Just in case.

Lest you worry about the state of my psychological well-being, I'd like to note that I did the same thing each time I found out we were pregnant. And it usually worked out fine. Except this time I've got even more time, so I won't feel as rushed. That extra 3 months or more will really help.

Baby Steps

As in What About Bob?, not as in "Hey! We're getting a baby!" Bah. Me with my double-meaning titles. Such confusion.

Anyway, last night was our first official meeting in the whole adoption process. It was the Orientation Meeting for the State Adoption Program at Bethany Christian Services. The instructor was 5-months pregnant and just off the plane from a Florida vacation, so she was a little rambly but very, very nice.

Ours was not the only meeting there that night. There was also an orientation class for BCS's International Adoption (Bethany also does Infant Adoption, Foster Care, and something else that I can't remember). We walked into that class first (and 15 minutes early) and were impressed by the multimedia slideshow they were previewing. Then I saw the "International Adoption" and realized that we were in the wrong class. After a few minutes of wandering, we found the class for people like us: unwilling to fly to Romania and not wanting to change diapers (I've put in my 8 years of diapers, and should be rested up by the time the grandkids arrive, but perhaps not).

There was no pizza, as had been promised by someone whose name shall not be mentioned but who also has 4 sons, is interested in adoption, and who happens to live in my house. Needless to say, I was a little cranky by 7 PM and was eyeing the cookies with increasing interest.

In spite of this (I did get the cookies, by the way, and a Coke; thanks for your concern), we did learn a lot, and we signed some papers that will apparently move us to at least the next square on the board.

Here's what we learned:

• We're not talking about babies here. We're talking children 7 years old or older, although with sibling groups there may be one 7+ and one younger child. Fine with me. We skip diapers and the Terrible Twos (which last from 18 months to 4 years old, by the way).
• The kids are in the custody of DFACS, which means they've had a pretty rough time.
• This will take a while. 7 weeks of training classes. An FBI background check that currently has a waiting list of 5 months (thanks Al Qaeda). Unknown months waiting for a match, and then a 6 month, in-home Placement (i.e., go live with them and see if it'll work out; it's more professional than that, but that's the gist of it). So if all goes well, it'll take a little over a year.
• The state of Georgia apparently picks up the tab for almost everything: court fees, Bethany's fees, etc. We pay for our medical exams and drug screens. So, to those of you who live and Georgia and pay taxes, thank you very much. I'm paying crazy DeKalb County property taxes for schools we don't use, so I figure that makes us even.
• During the 6-month Placement phase, anyone who babysits the not-quite-adopted-yet child(ren) will have to have a background check on file with Bethany. My wife informed me that everyone in our babysitting co-op already has this done, but I'm dreading having to break the news to our parents. So if y'all have any felonies that we need to know about, why don't you give me a call.
  

So we're on our way. Adoption train's a-rollin, etc.

Just so you don't worry, we did stop by Chick-fil-a on the way home, and I was able to eat a proper dinner. But my wife promises that there'll be pizza at the training classes, which start in mid-March.

Speaking of which, we'll need babysitting. If you'd like to come over and watch our 4 boys from 6-10 PM on a Thursday night anytime from late March to early June, please consult your mental health professional and then go lie down.

Matthew 18:5

I came across this yesterday during my Bible reading:

Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me
Matthew 18:5

We've been thinking about adoption for a few years now, for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, there are kids out there who need a family. And we have a family that -- all praise, glory, and honor to God alone -- is a pretty good family. We could probably add at least two more kids into our mix without too much external adjustment (keep the same house, keep the same jobs, keep the cat, maybe a slightly larger minivan, etc.).

Second, my wife would like to have a girl (or two). Now, at first glance this seems to be a shallow want. But if you look at it, this family has a lot to offer. A girl in today's world could do a lot worse than to have a new dress every month (week? day?), be read to from the Anne of Green Gables canon every night, watch Sleeping Beauty, and have 4 karate trained brothers to protect her and her reputation.

Third and finally, we like having a big family. We have 4 kids now, and, due to a hasty and somewhat foolish medical procedure shortly after our 4th son's birth (vasectomy in haste, repent at leisure, as I always say), we are now unable to add to our family in the most commonly accepted interpretation of "go forth and increase." So that leaves adoption.

Although, to be honest, I'm not sure that we wouldn't adopt anyway. I'm a big believer in giving: the idea of handing back to God whatever it is that he has given you. He's given me this great and wonderful family, and I haven't been able to figure out how to give it back. And so, I'll offer it up as a living sacrifice instead. He'll send us someone who needs us, and who we need.

And we'll receive that child (or children) in His name, just like He said.