Friday, April 22, 2011
I Can't Pack up Her Things
Technically, I am supposed to pack up a runaway's things. I am supposed to pack them up, and take them to the proctoring company that I work for within two days of the run. I can't bring myself to pack up Trisha's things. She has a laptop, her clothes, shoes, her pictures, her life, down there in my basement room. I don't want her to be gone. I want her to be here, safe, at my house. Packing her up would be admitting defeat. The caseworker says she can't come back. The caseworker is the boss, unfortunately. I know she isn't coming back, but maybe, if I hold on to her stuff, she will come after it, and I can see her again, and say goodbye.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
This Has to Be the Worst...
In the past three years, while I've been a proctor parent, things will happen which will cause me to think "this has to be the worst that can possibly happen." Here's my list, in the order that they happened. Kind of interesting the way they build upon each other.
*I find out after a week that one of our girls has an eating disorder. I am supposed to stand outside the bathroom door and ask her to count the entire time she is in there. I do not feel equipped to deal with this.
*One of our girls ran away, after having sneakily used my phone to call questionable boyfriend. I stay up all night worrying that he will show up at my house. Paul is, of course, out of town.
* Two weeks before graduation, one of our girls dissapears. I'm frantic, thinking she's been kidnapped (she was really good at pretending to be someone she wasn't) I drive to and from the bus stop, all over, looking for her. Turns out she'd picked up some guy at the mall and gone home with him. Paul is out of town again.
*One of our girls miscarries. I pick her up from school and determine this. We cry together in the ER. Paul was home for this one. He stayed with the kids.
* One of our girls shouts "You don't care about me. You do this for the money! I trusted you! You turned me in for smoking and I trusted you!"
*Another runaway.
*Boyfriend and one of our girls are kissing in the driveway while the police lights are flashing behind them. Paul dealt with this one.
*Runaway and I'm secretly okay with it, because she has been driving me up the wall, and she didn't need me the way most of the others do. She had a family to go to. I sit down with Andrew and Madelyn and say "She ran away. You know our policy on runaways. Once that trust is gone, they can't come back." Madelyn says "But, Mommy, we're trying to be like Jesus! Jesus gives us lots of chances. Jesus would give her another chance." Paul is gone again. We give her another chance.
* She turns herself in. I have to call the police and wait with her for three hours until they show up.
*I get this weird feeling about one of our girls, newly placed with us. I feel uncomfortable with her being around Andrew. She seeks him out. She plays nintendo with him. I fight with myself for awhile, thinking she's just mentally nine, that's why... Eventually, though, I have to make the call to send her away.
*While on respite, two girls sneak out of the basement window. The police come to my house at 2 am, knocking on my door, to return them. What on earth do I do with them now? I am told by my program to take away their shoes. One of the girls has spina bifida and wears leg braces under her thigh high boots. I'm loath to take away her cover, since none of the other girls know about her spina bifida. They run away again.
*I accept an emergency placement. She begs to stay. She doesn't want to move. I struggle with guilt and the feeling that she isn't supposed to stay with us. She stays. I find out three months later she'd been sneaking out every night with different boys. They came to my house to pick her up. I ask for her to be moved. On Christmas Eve.
*During that time, her mother comes over weekly to spill her latest divorce drama. I can't get her to leave. She won't take hints. I start hiding from her, turning off the lights, pretending to be asleep.
*One of my girls makes a threat against another girl. She says she will slit her throat. I believe her.
Okay, these are just the most extreme things that have happened. And each time, I learn, I grow. I am miserable. I hate it. I move on. Here's the latest, saddest thing.
Trisha has been resistent to therapy. She doesn't like it. She says she doesn't want to relive anything. It's past. She's okay now, unless she thinks about all of that stuff. We've gone the rounds with therapists. She's been through two. At court this last time she told the judge that she didn't need therapy. She told us she wasn't going to go. I told her that I'd talk to her therapist. I'd tell him her concerns and ask him what his plans were for her. I did. I had a long meeting with him and the program director. We talked about how best to help Trisha. The program director was annoyed that she'd constantly gotten away with ignoring rules. She wanted us to impose all the rules on her. Not going to work. I bargained my way through that. I told her to pick five things she wanted us to work on. We had to pick battles with Trisha. We couldn't attack all at once. Dimple piercings had to go. She had to get a job. She wasn't supposed to have a phone without a job. She wasn't supposed to have a laptop, or access to the internet. The list went on. I compromised. I felt pretty proud of myself at my compromising abilities. Pride goeth before a fall. I negotiated down to I'd tell her that she could have her phone if she attended therapy. If she didn't attend therapy, she'd lose her phone until she did. Feeling pretty good about myself, I brought this up with Trisha. She flipped out. She started banging her arms on the dashboard, swearing, threatening to throw her phone at my head, break the window. She ended up threatening me. She said "What's it going to take for you to understand that I'm crazy? Am I going to have to hurt you or your family before you realize?" At that point, she insisted I drop her off. I did. And that, sadly, is the last I've heard from her. Nine months she's lived with us. I've worked hard for this girl. I love her. Things can't get any worse that this, right?
*I find out after a week that one of our girls has an eating disorder. I am supposed to stand outside the bathroom door and ask her to count the entire time she is in there. I do not feel equipped to deal with this.
*One of our girls ran away, after having sneakily used my phone to call questionable boyfriend. I stay up all night worrying that he will show up at my house. Paul is, of course, out of town.
* Two weeks before graduation, one of our girls dissapears. I'm frantic, thinking she's been kidnapped (she was really good at pretending to be someone she wasn't) I drive to and from the bus stop, all over, looking for her. Turns out she'd picked up some guy at the mall and gone home with him. Paul is out of town again.
*One of our girls miscarries. I pick her up from school and determine this. We cry together in the ER. Paul was home for this one. He stayed with the kids.
* One of our girls shouts "You don't care about me. You do this for the money! I trusted you! You turned me in for smoking and I trusted you!"
*Another runaway.
*Boyfriend and one of our girls are kissing in the driveway while the police lights are flashing behind them. Paul dealt with this one.
*Runaway and I'm secretly okay with it, because she has been driving me up the wall, and she didn't need me the way most of the others do. She had a family to go to. I sit down with Andrew and Madelyn and say "She ran away. You know our policy on runaways. Once that trust is gone, they can't come back." Madelyn says "But, Mommy, we're trying to be like Jesus! Jesus gives us lots of chances. Jesus would give her another chance." Paul is gone again. We give her another chance.
* She turns herself in. I have to call the police and wait with her for three hours until they show up.
*I get this weird feeling about one of our girls, newly placed with us. I feel uncomfortable with her being around Andrew. She seeks him out. She plays nintendo with him. I fight with myself for awhile, thinking she's just mentally nine, that's why... Eventually, though, I have to make the call to send her away.
*While on respite, two girls sneak out of the basement window. The police come to my house at 2 am, knocking on my door, to return them. What on earth do I do with them now? I am told by my program to take away their shoes. One of the girls has spina bifida and wears leg braces under her thigh high boots. I'm loath to take away her cover, since none of the other girls know about her spina bifida. They run away again.
*I accept an emergency placement. She begs to stay. She doesn't want to move. I struggle with guilt and the feeling that she isn't supposed to stay with us. She stays. I find out three months later she'd been sneaking out every night with different boys. They came to my house to pick her up. I ask for her to be moved. On Christmas Eve.
*During that time, her mother comes over weekly to spill her latest divorce drama. I can't get her to leave. She won't take hints. I start hiding from her, turning off the lights, pretending to be asleep.
*One of my girls makes a threat against another girl. She says she will slit her throat. I believe her.
Okay, these are just the most extreme things that have happened. And each time, I learn, I grow. I am miserable. I hate it. I move on. Here's the latest, saddest thing.
Trisha has been resistent to therapy. She doesn't like it. She says she doesn't want to relive anything. It's past. She's okay now, unless she thinks about all of that stuff. We've gone the rounds with therapists. She's been through two. At court this last time she told the judge that she didn't need therapy. She told us she wasn't going to go. I told her that I'd talk to her therapist. I'd tell him her concerns and ask him what his plans were for her. I did. I had a long meeting with him and the program director. We talked about how best to help Trisha. The program director was annoyed that she'd constantly gotten away with ignoring rules. She wanted us to impose all the rules on her. Not going to work. I bargained my way through that. I told her to pick five things she wanted us to work on. We had to pick battles with Trisha. We couldn't attack all at once. Dimple piercings had to go. She had to get a job. She wasn't supposed to have a phone without a job. She wasn't supposed to have a laptop, or access to the internet. The list went on. I compromised. I felt pretty proud of myself at my compromising abilities. Pride goeth before a fall. I negotiated down to I'd tell her that she could have her phone if she attended therapy. If she didn't attend therapy, she'd lose her phone until she did. Feeling pretty good about myself, I brought this up with Trisha. She flipped out. She started banging her arms on the dashboard, swearing, threatening to throw her phone at my head, break the window. She ended up threatening me. She said "What's it going to take for you to understand that I'm crazy? Am I going to have to hurt you or your family before you realize?" At that point, she insisted I drop her off. I did. And that, sadly, is the last I've heard from her. Nine months she's lived with us. I've worked hard for this girl. I love her. Things can't get any worse that this, right?
Monday, April 11, 2011
Other People's Pain...
I hate feeling things with my children. I wish I could keep distance enough to think "oh, that's sad." and move on. Instead, I'm strapped in right next to them for the roller coaster ride. We're on a major downhill part with Trisha right now. I've kind of avoided her today-- keeping my own "no crabbiness in shared space" rule. She's upset, and I don't want to feel it right now. Blast, blast, blast.
I know this is not the way to be an effective parent. I just want it all to go away and be happy and fun again. My little ones are happy. Why can't the teenager be? Why can't I be in spite of the teenager?
I know this is not the way to be an effective parent. I just want it all to go away and be happy and fun again. My little ones are happy. Why can't the teenager be? Why can't I be in spite of the teenager?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
On Drug Tests and Suspicion
Yesterday my program director emailed me sayiung "Someone saw Trisha smoking outside of school this morning. Make sure you drug test her today." Drug tests, no problem. I've been doing weekly drug tests for the past 3 1/2 years. I don't mind. It's kind of interesting, actually. Watching for the little lines to appear reminds me of pregnancy tests. I love the fact that you can't lie on a drug test. (Well, you can, but it takes special equipment and a lot of thought and effort... I randomly test my girls for that very reason). Your urine tells on you if you've been doing things you shouldn't. The threat of random drug tests keeps you honest. Trisha and I have an understanding. She is proud of the fact that she has never failed a drug test. I am proud of her for the same reason. So, yesterday when I got that email, I felt crushed. I couldn't figure out her motivation at all. Why screw up now? Wisely, I waited to talk to her about it until I tested her. I tested her for cigarettes and pot, both came up negative. Her cigarettes line came up faint, but that's in keeping with the fact that everyone around her smoked all weekend when she was at home.
I felt hugely relieved. I texted my boss and asked her if she'd mind telling me who had said they'd seen Trisha smoking, because her tests were negative. When she told me, it all clicked into place. Trisha stayed with another proctor family on respite, when Paul and I went to Germany last month. Trisha did not hit it off with the other family. She disliked their rules, the atmosphere, etc. When Trisha isn't happy you know it. She has no social graces. She doesn't smile if she doesn't feel like it. She won't say hello if she doesn't know you well. She treats everyone with the utmost suspcion until she knows them well enough to make a judgement. The main thing Trisha disliked the air of suspicion that pervaded the house. They would listen in on her conversations, phone or otherwise, and then the proctor mom would call her supervisor and tell her everything Trisha said. The teenagers had to go everywhere the proctor mom went-- even if it was 5 am and she was going to the airport. No self respecting teenager is awake at 5am. Even the ones who were out partying the night before are home and in their beds by then. Trisha thrives on trust. From the beginning with her, I have given her a lot of trust. She has always responded with respect and responsibility. I work best that way. I tell the kids that as soon as they come in. I tell them that I give them a lot of freedom and trust, and if they break it, it will cause difficulties in our relationship and the amount of trust they recieve in the future. I tell them that if they sneak out of my house they will no longer be welcome here. I'm pretty leniant. If they ask for something reasonable I try to help them get it. If they ask to go out, I approve whoever I need to approve and tell them to have a good time, but they have to do so within my limits. Trust begets trust. If I am trying to teach trust, I have to first exhibit it. Suspicion creates sneakiness. Or at least makes it worse. Case in point, the other proctor mom was the one who saw Trisha smoking, and reported it. If you expect the worst, you very often get it.
I felt hugely relieved. I texted my boss and asked her if she'd mind telling me who had said they'd seen Trisha smoking, because her tests were negative. When she told me, it all clicked into place. Trisha stayed with another proctor family on respite, when Paul and I went to Germany last month. Trisha did not hit it off with the other family. She disliked their rules, the atmosphere, etc. When Trisha isn't happy you know it. She has no social graces. She doesn't smile if she doesn't feel like it. She won't say hello if she doesn't know you well. She treats everyone with the utmost suspcion until she knows them well enough to make a judgement. The main thing Trisha disliked the air of suspicion that pervaded the house. They would listen in on her conversations, phone or otherwise, and then the proctor mom would call her supervisor and tell her everything Trisha said. The teenagers had to go everywhere the proctor mom went-- even if it was 5 am and she was going to the airport. No self respecting teenager is awake at 5am. Even the ones who were out partying the night before are home and in their beds by then. Trisha thrives on trust. From the beginning with her, I have given her a lot of trust. She has always responded with respect and responsibility. I work best that way. I tell the kids that as soon as they come in. I tell them that I give them a lot of freedom and trust, and if they break it, it will cause difficulties in our relationship and the amount of trust they recieve in the future. I tell them that if they sneak out of my house they will no longer be welcome here. I'm pretty leniant. If they ask for something reasonable I try to help them get it. If they ask to go out, I approve whoever I need to approve and tell them to have a good time, but they have to do so within my limits. Trust begets trust. If I am trying to teach trust, I have to first exhibit it. Suspicion creates sneakiness. Or at least makes it worse. Case in point, the other proctor mom was the one who saw Trisha smoking, and reported it. If you expect the worst, you very often get it.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Past Placement Woes
From February of 2009-March 2010, Miranda (then 17) lived with us. Madelyn adored her. Andrew tolerated her. Paul understood her best. Miranda's past included drug dealer parents, homelessness, addiction, loss of her dad at 15, moving in with a 34 year old man at 15, becoming pregnant with his babies because he said he "wanted to be a family", losing twin boys when she was seven months pregnant, two rehabilitation programs, not much school, and a complicated personality. Miranda reminds me of the girl in the nursery rhyme-- "when she was good, she was very, very, good and when she was bad she was horrid." Miranda was incredibly fun to be around. She was funny, and daring, and socially fearless. Miranda was also infuriating. She would push and push her boundaries. She wasn't always truthful (though she tried). Most of all, she tired me out. I pushed her pretty hard to finish school. She ended up getting her GED. I pushed her into completing her CNA cerification. She left our house because she would not find a job, prefering to spend her time with game addicted boyfriend instead. She moved in with boyfriend and announced she was pregnant shortly thereafter. Boyfriend wanted nothing to do with baby. Miranda moved out and found Previous Boyfriend. She and Previous Boyfriend are now engaged. She had her baby on Thursday.
Understandably, Paul and I have had some pretty in depth discussions about Miranda's baby. We are both terrified for both Miranda and the baby. Paul did not want to go and see her at the hospital. He felt like he couldn't look her in the face and say "congratulations". I wanted to go, to see the baby, to show support. I want to be a resource for Miranda. I feel like that is the best way to help the baby in the long run. I also feel like it's Miranda we need to support. If Baby helps Miranda grow up and have the family she craves... maybe it will work? Okay, I know it's a slim hope, but it's all I have right now.
Understandably, Paul and I have had some pretty in depth discussions about Miranda's baby. We are both terrified for both Miranda and the baby. Paul did not want to go and see her at the hospital. He felt like he couldn't look her in the face and say "congratulations". I wanted to go, to see the baby, to show support. I want to be a resource for Miranda. I feel like that is the best way to help the baby in the long run. I also feel like it's Miranda we need to support. If Baby helps Miranda grow up and have the family she craves... maybe it will work? Okay, I know it's a slim hope, but it's all I have right now.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Starting from Now
Brief description of who lives in my home: (All names are changed to protect confidentiality.) Me, Anne (32) my husband, Paul (33) proctor daughter Trisha (17) and two bio kids, Andrew (9) and Madelyn (7). We also have an assortement of pets, usually aquired when Paul is out of town on business, in a moment of weakness, when the children take unfair advantage.
Bio kids are least complicated, so I shall start there. Andrew (9) spends a great deal of time trying to be funny and sometimes succeeding. The rest of his time is occupied with making oragami ninja stars to give to kids at school and playing dance dance revolution on the Wii. Madelyn is currently going through a hypochondriac stage. She is constantly wrapping limbs in ace bandages and dragging out her crutches. We go through a box of band aids a week. When she forgets that she is injured or ill, she plays with friends in the neighborhood, until she catches me watching and then promptly aquires a limp...
Husband travels a lot. 70% of the time on a bad month, 30% on a good month. His coming and going changes the family dynamics. When he is home, we are more relaxed about bedtime, schedule, rules, etc. When he is gone, I am a bedtime nazi.
I manage the best I can whether he is home or gone. I try to be the consistent parent. The one who is here no matter what. I don't work outside the home so that I can be there for my children. I applied to (and was not accepted) to grad school. While this dissapointed me, I'm trying to take it as a shove in a different direction.
Trisha has lived with us for eight months. Of the twelve kids I've proctor parented, she is the smartest, stubbornest, most complicated and most interesting to talk to. In the past eight months she has...
*aquired an entire new wardrobe (she came here with nothing. Literally just the clothes on her back).
*outlasted three roomates (one ran away, two were asked to leave)
*found and quit two jobs
*changed therapists twice
*had her dimples pierced
*is constantly where she says she will be, and has gained my trust
*been suspended from school three times
*punched a girl in the face at school and was subsequently expelled
*now attends an alternative high school and is completing packets to graduate
*applied to one college where I'm hoping she'll be accepted
*took the ACT and scored a 21, without having been to high school more than two semesters.
*wrote some amazing essays
*taught me about drug and gang culture and why people in this environment think the way they do
*is working hard on those packets and on track to graduate with her class in June
Bio kids are least complicated, so I shall start there. Andrew (9) spends a great deal of time trying to be funny and sometimes succeeding. The rest of his time is occupied with making oragami ninja stars to give to kids at school and playing dance dance revolution on the Wii. Madelyn is currently going through a hypochondriac stage. She is constantly wrapping limbs in ace bandages and dragging out her crutches. We go through a box of band aids a week. When she forgets that she is injured or ill, she plays with friends in the neighborhood, until she catches me watching and then promptly aquires a limp...
Husband travels a lot. 70% of the time on a bad month, 30% on a good month. His coming and going changes the family dynamics. When he is home, we are more relaxed about bedtime, schedule, rules, etc. When he is gone, I am a bedtime nazi.
I manage the best I can whether he is home or gone. I try to be the consistent parent. The one who is here no matter what. I don't work outside the home so that I can be there for my children. I applied to (and was not accepted) to grad school. While this dissapointed me, I'm trying to take it as a shove in a different direction.
Trisha has lived with us for eight months. Of the twelve kids I've proctor parented, she is the smartest, stubbornest, most complicated and most interesting to talk to. In the past eight months she has...
*aquired an entire new wardrobe (she came here with nothing. Literally just the clothes on her back).
*outlasted three roomates (one ran away, two were asked to leave)
*found and quit two jobs
*changed therapists twice
*had her dimples pierced
*is constantly where she says she will be, and has gained my trust
*been suspended from school three times
*punched a girl in the face at school and was subsequently expelled
*now attends an alternative high school and is completing packets to graduate
*applied to one college where I'm hoping she'll be accepted
*took the ACT and scored a 21, without having been to high school more than two semesters.
*wrote some amazing essays
*taught me about drug and gang culture and why people in this environment think the way they do
*is working hard on those packets and on track to graduate with her class in June
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