if you read blogs, you should read this

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I read blogs.  A lot of them.  It might even be considered one of my addictions hobbies.

So in honor of the Ultimate Blog Party going on this week, I am going to give my very best advice for others who read blogs.  I mean, sure, you can just keep on manually typing in url’s, scanning blogs to see if they’ve updated, or going through the blogroll on your own blog.  But what if there was a better way?  What if you could streamline the way you read blogs?  What if you can save time, keep track of what you’ve ready, and only read new content?

(You’ve probably laid awake at night wondering this same thing.  How can I streamline my blog reading?  And here I am, to offer you solutions.  Me, the girl who has had the same 2 Netflix movies for 9 months because I can’t find a red return envelope.  I think I’m the perfect person to be dishing out organization advice, don’t you?)

These are my best tips for maximizing your blog-reading enjoyment:

1. Subscribe to your blogs in google reader. 

First you need to be signed in to google.  If you don’t have an account, you can create one in a few minutes.  Whenever you visit a blog that you would like to read regularly, look for the “subscribe” button.  It usually looks something like this:

When you hit that subscribe button on a favorite blog, it will take you to a page that lets you choose how you would like to subscribe.  It might look something like this:

From there, you choose the button for the “reader” (the service that will keep track of your subscriptions).  I definitely recommend google, because of the feature I will talk about next.  But the other options are fine, too.  I won’t judge you.  Much.

If you choose google, it will then take you to a page that looks like this:

Choose the google reader option.  Once you’ve added a couple of blogs, you can then go directly to www.google.com/reader to read all of your blogs in one place.  The beauty of the reader is that it pulls the blog posts from the blogs you love and puts them in chronological order.  You can choose if you want it to show the oldest posts first, or the newest posts first.  Then, as you scroll down and read, it “remembers” what you have passed and takes it off the list,  So the next time you visit google reader, it will only show blog posts that you’ve not yet read.  Get it?  No more visiting blogs to see if they’ve updated only to see the same ole’ post that was up the last five times you checked.  Google reader has your back.

For example, here’s a little snippet from my reader today.  (This is just a small little portion.  There are a lot of blogs in my reader.)

Okay, once you’ve gotten all the blogs you frequent into your subscription list, it’s time to add the magic of the Next button.

2. Put the “Next ” button on your browser.

Oh, how I love the Next button.  See, reading blogs in google reader is efficient, but it’s a little cold.  You miss the full experience of seeing the post where it was meant to be.  It’s kind of like eating take-out instead of eating in the restaurant.  You miss the ambience. It also makes it harder to comment.  So the Next button eliminates the need to read blogs in google reader (even though it is a function of google reader). 

You can install the button by clicking here, but make sure you’ve established a google reader account first.  Then, hit the “goodies” tab and scroll down until you see the Next bookmarklet.  Click and drack it up to your toolbar, and it should add the button there.

Now takes you to the next blog in your subscription with new content.  It takes you straight to the blog page instead of to google reader.  IT IS MAGIC.  And then, when you’ve read that page, and hopefully commented so that blogger’s fragile self-esteem can remain intact, you can just hit the button again and go to the next blog.  (Note: this is totally different from the “Next Blog” button that appears on the top of a blogspot blog.  That thing takes you to random blogs, not blogs of your choosing.) This is how the button looks, all nice and nestled into my firefox browser:

I really can’t tell you how much I love this thing.  If my browser were a remote control, this would be the button with all of the text rubbed off from using it so much.

3. Add the Alexa toolbar to your browser.

The last tip is really more self-serving, but if you read a lot of blogs, you should add Alexa to your toolbar.  Alexa is one of the main ways a blog’s popularity is counter.  It’s kind of like the Nielson Ratings for blogs.  If you recall, back in the olden days, only the Nielson families contributed to television ratings.  And so it goes with blogs – only those people who have downloaded the Alexa toolbar are counted in a blog’s Alexa rating.  So, if you want to “pay it forward” to the blogs you read, I would recommend it.  It’s a quick and simple download and you won’t even notice you have it.  It gives you an option of where to place it, and you can choose to put it down on the bottom of your browser.  See the little text at the bottom of the page?  That’s it.

If you have firefox and you want to download it as a statusbar, you can click below. 

Or, if you use internet explorer, you can download it here.

 

Those are my three big tips.  If you’ve stumbled over here for the Ultimate Blog Party link-up, I’m guessing you might read a lot of blogs, too.  Do you have any other tips or tricks for blog-reading?

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permission to say no . . . and other things

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I’m prepping for the class I teach tonight on the psychology of addiction.  This evening we’ll be discussing the family legacy of addiction.  Unfortunately, it is one Mark and I know well.  Both of our paternal grandfathers died from complications of the liver . . . complications that were caused by excessive alcohol consumption.  We both came from families that resolved to end the cycle of addiction, but unfortunately addictive patterns do not always cease in the absence of substance abuse.  In fact, I would venture to say that in our culture, a majority of us struggle with codependency issues or addictive patterns (hello facebook).

Tonight I am sharing some affirmations with my students that family systems therapist Virginia Satir prescribes for clients struggling with addictive patterns. As I reviewed my notes this morning they struck me as particularly relevant to my own life, and I’m betting they might resonate with others as well:

1.    I do not have to feel guilty just because someone else does not like what I do, say, think, or feel.

2.    It is O. K. for me to feel angry and to express it in responsible ways.
3.    I do not have to assume full responsibility for making decisions, particularly where others share responsibility for making the decision.

4.    I have the right to say, "I don't know."

5.    I have the right to say "No," without feeling guilty.

6.    I have the right to say "I don't understand," without feeling stupid.

7.    I do not have to apologize or give reasons when I say "No."

8.     I have the right to ask others to do things for me.

9.     I have the right to refuse requests which others make of me.

l0.    I have the right to tell others when I think they are manipulating,

conning or treating me unfairly.

l1.    I have the right to refuse additional responsibilities without feeling guilty.

l2.    I have the right to tell others when their behavior annoys me.

l3.    I do not have to compromise my personal integrity.

l4.    I have the right to make mistakes and to be responsible for them; I have the right to be wrong.

l5.    I do not have to be liked, admired, or respected by everyone for everything I do.

Right now #5 and #11 are hitting home especially.  How about you?  Are there any of these affirmations you need to make your mantra for a while?

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insurmountable first-world problems

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We have had the same two Netflix movies at our house since August.

SINCE AUGUST.

Why?  Because we lost the red mailer that we need to send them back.

Apparently, this is a problem that two people with graduate degrees cannot solve.  Every couple of weeks, we will talk about how we wished we had a new Netlfix to watch.  As if one is going to appear in the mailbox.  And then we will remember the missing red envelopes, and just sigh and shrug, because . . . what can we do?  I guess we’ll just have these two movies forever.

IT’S JUST TOO HARD, YOU GUYS.

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spontaneous emergence of proglottids from the anal sphincter

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I’m gonna go ahead and call it.  In the contest of “most awkward google search term ever”, I win.  For all of time, I win.  This was what I discovered in my search term analytics today:

(Spontaneous emergence of proglottids from the anal sphincter. Leading to this post.)

*Confession: My involvement with Blogher means that, on occasion, my post titles show up on the sidebar of other blogs.  Several of those blogs are . . . how shall I say . . . a little more in the Christian niche than mine?  And look, I am a believer myself, even if my potty mouth and my liberal politics mean that some think I am not.  I read Francis Chan!  I’m following Bellgate! I like the Hillsong United albums!  I remember Psalty!   My Christian card cannot be revoked no matter how much I hate Glen Beck.

I’m just saying that there are a few popular bloggers out there, who are very lovely people but a bit more conservative than myself, who probably aren’t writing posts with “sphincter” or go and get your vag in the title.  So it always makes me giggle a little when I think about my post titles showing up in their sidebar.  And if you clicked over for this one . . . well.  Welcome.

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what I want you to know: pregnant out of wedlock

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What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions.  It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here.

Today’s guest post is by Natalie Slack.

I want you to know that the judgment and shame starts immediately. I remember the long, slow drive home from the drugstore, pregnancy test tucked in my purse and I remember the never-ending three minutes while I waited for the double line indicator of what I already knew – I'm eighteen. I'm unmarried. I'm pregnant.

My childhood was full of love and God and church and abstinence education. “Every time you have sex you give a little piece of your heart away,” my mom would tell her five kids and I believed her. It also seemed that sex before marriage was the ultimate sin – that anything else was forgivable, temporary, and forgettable. There was an unspoken pressure to perform – keep my straight A's, finish college early (I'd graduated high school at 16), and eventually marry the right man and become a Proverbs 31 wife.
My sophomore year I went to a conservative Christian college with a thick “guidebook” of “covenants” I was meant to keep but within a few months of moving away from the shelter of my parents home I met a boy and fell in love. And a few months later I was driving that long, slow drive home from the drugstore wondering how this was happening to me.

My boyfriend immediately stepped up and helped me plan a wedding. Despite my rocky confession to my parents (I wrote a letter and fled the state!) they determined to support and encourage me as I stepped into new roles – wife and mother. Though our wedding was small and hastily put together, we believed that God would carry us through the next seven months before our firstborn son arrived.

I had no idea the judgment that I'd endure the moment my belly popped out. Despite the wedding ring on my finger I still was an eighteen year old girl that looked like an eighteen year old girl. I was a statistic, and I knew it. With my college education on hold, working as a barista for minimum wage, and with an ever growing stomach – I felt like I wore my sin for all to see. “Lots of people mess up in this way,” our pastor told us during our speed session of pre-marital counseling, “Only you guys got caught.” And I felt “caught” - like somehow my premarital sex would cause my child to be scarred, my marriage to be doomed, and my motherhood to be tainted. This wasn't a role I had asked for or wanted, and now I'd fallen into it, feeling both unwilling and unworthy and so very ashamed.

From nosy grandmothers at grocery stores to the slow snub of many of my previous single friends, it seemed as if everywhere I looked people no longer held me in the same regard. Because I was young and pregnant I was perhaps less intelligent. Because I was young and pregnant I was irresponsible. Because I was young and pregnant I would never amount to much. As the judgments of others began to weigh heavily on me, I began to believe these lies too. At a time when my life was really just beginning I felt like my dreams were over. I didn't know how I'd recover or survive.

What I want you to know is that being young and pregnant is hard enough without your judgment. I want you to know that encouragement and support is what young pregnant girls or young mothers are desperate for. That affirmation and speaking life-giving words can make the difference.

At twenty-one I had my second son and at twenty-three my third. When I am in the grocery store now, I am still aware of the eyes that question my age, my marital status, my motherhood. I've been asked if I'm “the nanny” before, and many times “are they all yours?” And people are quick to assess how young I must have been when I had my oldest son, now a lean, smart and confident almost-seven-year-old. I've learned to make jokes of my age, since most of my friends have a decade on me. And I've finally begun to accept the life-giving words of encouragement that my family and friends speak to me. “You are a great mom,” they tell me. And even though I spent the first part of my motherhood doubting and denying that this could ever be true I am beginning now to believe.

I want you to know that you could play a big part in building up a young mother. When I would visit the playground with my one-year-old in tow I would hope and pray for someone else to speak to me, to reach out to me. Regardless of your age or status you can find a commonality with a young mom and you may be the life-giver she needs.

I am a student, a teacher, an artist, a creator, an encourager, a communicator. These are the gifts I bring to the world. I am also a mother. I was all of these things at 18. And I will still be all of these things at 40. Though, with my head-start, I might just be a grandmother then too :)

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what I want you to know: where is the love? (compassion and autism)

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What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions.  It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here.

Today’s post was written by Lana at Along Came the Bird.  She is the mom of three girls, and her youngest was diagnosed with Autism.

Have you ever been out in public and seen a child misbehaving?

Who hasn't, right?

I distinctly remember eating at Chuy's one time and I kept hearing a child just shrieking at the top of his lungs.

I ignored it for a while because I've been there myself and staring at someone when their child is losing his mind isn't really all that helpful.

But it went on for quite a while and I finally took a look around, trying to determine which child was making the racket.

I identified the table where the sound seemed to be coming from but was confused because I didn't see a kid there.  Then I realized he was actually under the table just giving his parents (and the other diners) an earful while they were calmly eating their supper.

I bet there was some indigestion at that table.

Now let's get really honest here and think about how many times we're been out in public, seen a child misbehaving, and thought to ourselves, "that child just needs......." or "if that were my kid.....".

I've done it countless times myself.

But I must say that I've had a little perspective shift since Lily (who has autism) came along.

Now when I see a child wailing away, I cut the parents some slack and assume that there just might be more going on than what I observed in my 30 second encounter.
Unless Paul Harvey shows up with "the rest of the story", I no longer think that I know what might be best for this child who is a total stranger to me.

Let me tell you a little story that demonstrates what I've learned through Lily.
I'm in my neighborhood HEB a couple weeks ago, just shopping along and minding my own business.

I don't have any of my children with me.

Which means I can really take time to choose the best bananas but it also means I have no one to blame when I forget the bread.

Then the sound of a child crying reaches my ears.

But this is no ordinary crying because Mom isn't buying Lucky Charms today.

This is a frantic, almost out of control wailing with some nonsensical phrases thrown in.
And it doesn't go away.

In fact, it only gets louder.

I'm not exaggerating (like a good preacher's wife would) when I say you could literally hear this child throughout the store.

I throw my last item in the cart and head for the checkout, where the sound is now coming from.

And I see this poor woman with two children - one baby who's doing just fine and this little boy who is completely wigging out.

Bingo!  The source of the crying.

Everyone in the store is pretty much avoiding this little family like the plague.  And of course, most of them are doing that ever helpful stare I mentioned above.

So, while trying to make angry eye contact with strangers, I march my buggy right up behind this woman and her kiddos.

I lay my hand on her shoulder and ask if there's anything at all I can do to help.

This exhausted and embarrassed mother turns around to me with big tears in her eyes and kind of shakes her head.  She says, "I just needed a few things.  I couldn't put off coming to the store any longer."

My heart just broke for her.

Had I been thinking straight, I would've just told her to take her kids and go to her car.  That I would buy her groceries and bring them out to her.

That would've solved the immediate problem.

But I wanted to her to know something.

I wanted her to know that I've been there before.  I understood.  She wasn't alone.  And that while everyone else was simply watching, I wasn't afraid to approach her.  To talk to her.  To show some compassion and understanding.

It really didn't matter if her child was losing his mind over Lucky Charms or if he had an uncontrollable crying disorder.

We've all been in her shoes.

At the end of the day, a moms gotta do what a moms gotta do.   And sometimes, a moms just gotta go to HEB.

As it turns out, this mom told me something I already suspected.

Her son has autism.  He was frantically trying to be understood but there was a definite communication breakdown.

I told her that I had a child with autism as well.

I noticed an older lady standing on the fringes of our conversation and once the "A" word was spoken, she stepped forward, identified herself as a special education teacher and asked if she could talk to the boy.

She successfully distracted him with talk of what color balloon he might like to have and if he would like to play the free "buddy bucks" game by the door.

She worked some serious magic on that boy.

I told the mom that if I was her, I would hire that lady to come home with me on the spot!

She finally smiled just a little bit, paid for her groceries, and headed home with two happy children.

I like to think that while the grocery store was still a stressful experience, maybe - just maybe, it was a little easier that day.

So why am I telling you this?

So that you can pat me on the back and say what an amazingly incredible person I am, of course!

Not.

I want you to be an incredibly amazing person.

Anyone can just stare.

Don't be like everyone else!  Be bold!  Share some love!

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I hate homework. A lot.

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I’ve been meaning to write about my growing disdain for homework, but today Jodifur had a guest post up at Jill’s Scary Mommy blog and she pretty much articulated all of my feelings on the matter.  Here’s an excerpt:

I may sound disgruntled, but I’m tired of spending every night fighting about homework. I’m tired of teaching concepts that did not get taught in the classroom but have homework about them. I work, my husband works, we rush home, make dinner, and then do homework. Then it is bath, bed, and we start over the next day. My son is surprised on the days we say, “you don’t have any homework.” Normally, this is weekends.

Not to mention all the research out there that says homework in the early grades mean nothing. It is not indicative of learning or progress or teaches kids anything other than burnout. We fight and there are tears, some of them mine. By first grade my son is going to hate learning. What is this going to teach a child?

Jodie’s son is also in kindergarten.  You can read the rest here.

I am really not a fan of homework for kindergarten.  I LOVE my son’s teacher.  I mean, seriously, she is amazing – and the homework thing is a school-wide choice.  I also love the public school that he attends.  But I don’t love the fact that every week, he comes home with a packet of 6-10 worksheets that require me to hover over him to complete.

Typically he can do it himself, but lately the math has been really hard.  They are adding numbers into the teens now.  Today he had to count by fives to fill in the blanks as such:

| 5 | 10 | 15 | 20 | ___ | ___ |

Counting by fives?  I swear, I think when I was in preschool we painted, made macaroni necklaces, and learning the lyrics to “This Land Is Your Land”.

But even the worksheets that are easy are still laborious, because he has been at school all day long, and he’s just DONE.  And tired.  And wants to play with his siblings and relax and BE SIX YEARS OLD.  And I want that for him, too, but instead I have to keep redirecting him back to the table to finish his worksheets.

I am a huge proponent of education.  I’m a college professor.  My parents were college professors (they are both still in academia, but now in administrative roles).  I really want my kids to love learning, to develop study skills, and to succeed in school.

But I don’t want them to have homework in kindergarten. Or maybe even for a few years after that.

I’ve usually kept these thoughts to myself, because I feel like people generally hold the belief that there is a value to the way homework develops study habits.  But I was a little shocked (and relieved?) to see that most of the commenter’s on this post were in agreement – and many of them were teachers themselves.  Now, obviously, comments on a blog post are not necessarily a reflection of academic research . . . but apparently there is solid research that says that homework in the early grades does not actually determine study skills for later grades.  Which begs the question, why are schools still giving it?  And why does it seem to be increasing every year?

I don’t believe that I had homework until about 5th grade.  And I did okay in high school. And yes, I realize that sentence just pushed me into cranky-old-lady territory.

I admit, there is some personal bias in my anti-homework views.  Just getting Jafta to complete his is such a battle, that I really cringe at the thought of this TIMES FOUR in a few years.  But I also think that at the public school my kids are attending, the day is long enough for them to complete everything they need to learn at school.  I feel like when I pick them up, I want it to be family time.  And I want there to be time for them to be involved in enriching activities like music lessons or sports,  I hear so many friends talk about how the nightly homework takes up a big portion of their evening.  Do kids really need to be doing homework EVERY NIGHT when they have spent 6-8 hours in school all day?  Am I the only one who thinks this is excessive?

Anyways, I am curious to hear your thoughts.  A few of the commenters at Scary Mommy said that they actually refused to have their kids do it, and spoke with administrators and teachers at the beginning of the year, informing them their kids would not turn it in.  This seems absolutely crazy to me – I am such a people-pleaser, and I cannot imagine being “that mom” and what the school staff would think of me (shudder). Jafta always turns in his completed homework, despite how much I despise it.  But at the same time, I wonder what would really happen if we just stopped doing it?  Would it affect his learning?  Or would it just make our afternoons a lot more peaceful?

What do you think about homework? 

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go and grab your vag

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On Wednesday nights, the kids go to Royal Rangers, which is kind of like the faith-based version of Boy Scouts.  It’s a really cute program . . . they work on different character traits each week, and then they can earn a badge that can be sewn onto their vest.  Or, if your mom is really busy lazy, that badge can be stapled on to the vest, because, seriously, who has time to sew?

India loves Royal Rangers, but she confuses the vest and the badge, and a few weeks ago she was frantically searching the house for her vest, yelling,  “My vag!  I can’t find my vag!”  (Rhymes with badge?)  Which, of course, I only encouraged by calling it that, too.  About twenty times.  As Mark and I tried to stifle our junior-high giggling. 

Now all of the kids call it their vag.

ME: Kids, it’s time for Royal Rangers.

KIDS: Let me go grab my vag!

I’m guessing the troop leaders may not appreciate it.  But we are cracking ourselves up over here.

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the psychological impacts of abandonment

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I’ve been wanting to post my notes from the workshop I did at The Idea Camp, but I’ve struggled with how to present it, because it really was more of a conversation.  What I’m sharing below is really just an outline – there was so much more meat in the discussion that took place in that room full of people who cared passionately and deeply about these issues.  But here is a general overview of what what discussed in relation to the psychological ramifications for orphaned children:

The Orphan Archetype:

First we looked at the dichotomy of presentation in the “orphan achetype” (in plainspeak – the stereotypes and oversimplified ideas we hold of orphans)

We talked about the idea of the orphan as a plucky, happy child whose only issue is a need of parents (i.e. Annie, Oliver, Newsies, Meet the Robinsons) and how this may affect idealized notions, especially for prospective adoptive parents.

Then we talked about the presentation of orphans as troubled, damaged goods with inevitable attachment disorders and problematic behavior, and how this may deter the adoption of older children.

The reality in both of these stereotypes is that orphaned children are complex human beings with unique strengths and needs.

The Psychological Needs of Orphans

If we want to help orphans become fully functioning adults, we must address their psychological needs along with their physical needs.

Adoption into a loving family can be a solution to healing the wounds of abandonment, but prospective adoptive parents must have an understanding of the psychological effects of abandonment. Too often, parents are simply looking to add a child to their family and then shocked, disappointed, and resentful of the unique psychological needs of a child adopted from a difficult place.

Orphanages and those working in in-country care must adapt the caregiving to address the whole child: physical, spiritual, and psychological. It is not okay to assume that Christian education or academic prep will erase deeply ingrained developmental or psychological issues.

Orphans and Loss

At the base of the orphan experience is loss. The loss of parents is probably the most significant loss any child can experience.

How and when that loss occurred will likely affect a child’s development and ability to attach. A child who was cognitive at the time of loss or relinquishment may deal with severe abandonment issues. At the same time, a child who received the nurture of a consistent caregiver in the first three years of life may fare better than a child relinquished at birth into an orphanage setting. While a child who was placed as an infant may not have a cognitive memory of abandonment, they may also not have had the benefit of individualized care during the critical first two years of life.

By nature of being orphaned, a child’s psychological needs will be greater. Simultaneously, by nature of being orphaned, that child is likely to receive less attention into their psychological well-being, especially in an institutionalized setting. This is the tragedy for most orphans: high psychological needs, deficient psychological care. Thus, problems are compounded. Specifically, institutionalization compounds the effects of abandonment.

Orphan Culture

Both anecdotally and empirically, we see a subset of behaviors that tend to emerge in children who live in setting where there are multiple children and multiple caregivers. (This is often due to the combination of low staff-to-child ratios +the revolving door of shift-working caregivers, and most orphanages have this. Even the best. It is extremely expensive and difficult for an orphanage to create a family environment with consistent caregivers. The behaviors that emerge from this setting may indicate reactive attachment disorder, but most kids will fall short of that diagnosis and yet still struggle behaviorally and relationally. This is what prospective adoptive parents need to understand: there is a huge spectrum between a typically developing child and a child with reactive attachment disorder, and most children coming from orphanages will fall somewhere in the middle. Therefore, parents should still be prepared for attachment challenges and transitional issues, which may include:

· Superficially charming behaviors

· difficulties with eye contact

· indiscriminant affection with strangers

· destructive tendencies

· hoarding or gorging

· manipulation

· lying and deceitful behaviors

· fear of abandonment

· difficulty making decisions or veering from routings

· aggressiveness

· entitlement issues

· power struggles (lord of the flies)

· self-soothing behaviors

· sexual acting out or sex play with other children

(There was quite a bit of discussion from the participants about how these behaviors manifest, in both orphanage and home settings.  To respect privacy, I won’t go into detail, but there was definitely a consensus that these issues are prevalent for institutionalized children).

Lifelong implications:

The psychological impact of being abandoned does not end in childhood. If children do not form healthy attachments it is very likely they will struggle into adulthood as well. This is one of the reasons we see a statistical cycle of abandonment – children who were abandoned are more likely to abandon their children (and former foster youth are more likely to have their children removed). Some of the issues abandoned children may face in adulthood:

• · difficulty in relationships
• · legal problems
• · occupational problems
• · homelessness
• · depression and anxiety
• · abandoning children
• · sexual acting out
• · drug/alcohol addictions
• · poor coping skills

Again, there are many orphanages that are attempting to raise “future leaders” in their country of origin, but this is unlikely if psychological needs are not met. Academic and spiritual education are valuable, but there needs to be an intact psychological foundation for children to succeed.

Solutions:

Adoptive parents must prepare themselves for the unique needs and traumas their children may hold from being abandoned and from orphanage life.

Orphanages and homes for children need to set up a family environment with consistent caregivers. Directors need to be trained in best practice for attachment and pass that training on to the staff that is working directly with the children.

(We also spent a good deal of time talking about the impact of short-term mission trips on orphans and I will talk about that more in another post).

Research Findings:

In conclusion, I shared the findings of The St. Petersburg – USA Orphanage Research Team (a huge thank-you to Megan who gave me this information). I think the findings here are really important for anyone doing orphan care:

This research group is looking at best practice for group care. In the study, the made the orphanage more family-like by integrating groups by age and disability status, changing caregivers' schedules and assigning two "primary caregivers" to each group, and training caregivers to care for the children more like they'd care for their own children (sensitive, responsive care). Children who experienced the intervention showed improvements in every domain of development, including height/weight (even though their diet/nutrition never changed). I think this intervention is a good demonstration that orphanages *can* be made to be more family-like, and these kinds of changes might help to ameliorate some of the problems that are typical of children adopted from orphanages. Notably, this intervention can be sustained on the same budget that the orphanages already get from the government. Of course, it's important for there to be a dedicated orphanage director and staff for the intervention to work. From a practice and policy standpoint, because orphanages aren't likely to disappear any time soon, this type of intervention might be a direction to go in the future.

Some other things to think about--

1) Our research shows that most of the problems experienced by children adopted from orphanages stems from their experience during the first two years of life. This is *not* to say that experience beyond that age is not important (it clearly is). But we're finding that the rate of problems that these children have is greater for children adopted after two years of age, but the rate of problems does not continue to go up with even later ages at adoption. The specific age when this "shift" in levels of problems occurs does vary depending on how depriving the orphanages are--the orphanages we study show the shift around 18 months of age at adoption, whereas the 1990s Romania orphanages show that shift closer to 6-12 months.

2) We're thinking that a lot of the problems that children adopted from orphanages have can be traced back to very basic interactions that would tend to happen quite frequently for children in a typical family (but, are relatively rare in an orphanage environment). One thing we're thinking about is the degree to which children experience contingently responsive care. So, when baby does X, a specific caregiver always or usually does Y. When the same caregiver interacts with a child over time, responding to the child's needs (instead of just providing care according to a predetermined schedule), patterns begin to develop, and children develop understandings of basic, fundamental concepts like contingencies (if X happens, then Y happens) and social cues (this facial expression means X, this tone of voice means Y). If a child doesn't have these experiences early on, and doesn't learn these fundamental skills at those early ages, its very likely that the child's brain development is affected, and its perhaps not surprising that parents report that their adopted children have some difficulties in social situations and with logic/science understanding.

3) Indiscriminate friendliness or disinhibited social behavior is often reported in children adopted from orphanages. There's no doubt that some of this behavior is reinforced in the orphanage environment, but it seems like it stems from things even more fundamental than that. The early experiences children have in orphanages often produce deficits in children's executive functioning skills (things like planning, organization, decision making, inhibiting responses, etc). It's quite possible that this superficial social "charm" that children show is actually showing their inability to inhibit social responses around strangers.

This is by no means a complete representation of the conversation that happened at Idea Camp. There was so much good feedback shared from those present and this is just a small snapshot of all that was discussed.

I will be talking more about orphan culture and the transition to family culture at the upcoming Together for Adoption Conference in Phoenix. If this is of interest to you, think about attending in October.

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the way of the ipad

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We’ve gone the way of the ipad.

We held fast for about a week, giving strict instruction that the kids were not to touch the shiny new device.  But we caved pretty quickly.

Oh, I have such mixed feelings about technology.

It is truly amazing to see how my kids can learn and create on this device.  We have been working on letters with Kembe for the past year, and he has also been in preschool for a year.  But no matter how much repetition , he just could not grasp the concept of symbols – for both letters and numbers.  And then, five minutes on the ipad and he is enthusiastically identifying letters and their sounds.  I think there is something about the tactile experience that made it click for him.

I love watching Jafta’s little brain work as he identifies sight words.

There is an app that all of the kids loves that allows them to trace their letters.  Even Karis loves it.

It really is a lot of fun.

But then I get visions of the future, of all six of us sitting in our living room, ignoring each other as we interact with our own personal screens.  I know that this is not a foregone conclusion to letting our kids play with the ipad – but there is some part of me that fears the implications of technology on family life. 

I will be speaking on a panel that will be grappling with these issues at the upcoming Mom 2.0 Summit, along with Cecily and Cyndy.  We had a short chat about the session yesterday and it really is profound the way that technology is shaping our lives, in good and bad ways. 

I am so very grateful for many of the things that technology has given me.  It is amazing how connected it can make me feel, but it is also concerned how much disconnection it can create as well.  Technology is changing at a rapid pace and it’s hard because we don’t really have a generation of parents who’ve gone before us and can illuminate how to navigate the waters.  My hope is that our family can enjoy technology as an adjunct to a full life, and not as something that takes over our life.  But that balance is one that I think may be a constant struggle, as I watch my kids fighting and crawling over each other to get to the coveted ipad, like it’s Gollum’s precious ring.

How do you negotiate technology and screen time with your kids?  Is the rapid pace of developing technology something you worry about?

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movies, plays, and plays about movies

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I’m generally not a fan of musical adaptations of movies, but I saw two this week that were pretty good.  First, I got the chance to see Little Miss Sunshine at the La Jolla Playhouse.  I really loved this movie, so the fact that I loved it even more when it included people breaking into spontaneous song is probably not a surprise to anyone.  You can read my full review here.

I also took the kids to see Star Wars: The Musical.   I didn’t even know there was such a thing, let alone such a thing happening right down the street from us.  But Mark drove by the other day and saw the people in costumes, and found out that it was a local group of 2nd and 3rd graders putting it on.  How cute is that?

The adults in costume in these photos?  Not in the play.  Just doing it for fun.

I know my children look forlorn/angry in these shots, but I can assure you, they were very excited.  Those are the faces they make when they are SO EXCITED to meet someone that they attempt to hide it by looking bored/mad.  Sort of like the face I made when I saw Joel McHale at the LA airport.

The play was very cute.  I am a huge Star Wars fan, which doesn’t make a lot of sense because I am very literal and pretty much hate fantasy as an entire genre.  I think it has something to do with a pre-pubescent crush on Hans Solo.  Nevertheless, I was thrilled to see my geek love for Star Wars and Broadway merged into a musical parody.  All of the songs were covers of famous broadways songs, a fact that seemed to be lost on everyone in the audience except for myself.  The entire time, I was like, OMG, THIS SONG ABOUT DROIDS IS SONDHEIM!  Anyone?  Anyone?

Not so much.

Speaking of fantasy and my disdain for it, yesterday I took Jafta to see Tron.  I remember seeing this movie as a kid, and then not being able to sleep for several nights because I could not figure out how people got inside a video game.  In fact, I think that movie created an existential crisis that I have yet to shake.  So it seemed like a good idea to take my kindergartner to see it.  (And also, because it was at the cheap theater).

It was a good movie, but some parts were SO unrealistic.  Like, in one of the first scenes, the main character stumbles upon an abandoned office where someone has left an eames aluminum group desk chair to collect dust for twenty-some years.  Dude. WHO WOULD DO THAT?  That’s like a $2,000 chair right there.

This was a major inconsistency in what was an otherwise completely plausible movie with an air-tight and thoroughly explained potline. 

Until the end, when the characters left behind four pristine barcelona chairs, and eames lounger, and an arco floor lamp just to return to life within the time-space continuum.

I HATE MOVIES THAT DON’T MAKE SENSE.

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that’s what SHE said

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Here are some things I enjoyed reading in the past few weeks.  Click the titles to read the whole post.

All the baby mama deets and drama.

on pregnancy after multiple losses, from Joy’s Hope

“I look through pregnancy with a dark and shattered lens now.  One that I wish I never knew.  I am much older, much sicker and much more fearful than I was nine years ago.  But somehow, I carry on.  Through the crazy.  Through the trials.  Through the uncertainty.  Because each time my heart has shattered, God has lovingly put it back together.  Each time He puts it back together it is stronger

Have you Heard about Hugo and Kim?!

a look at communication in the internet age from Citizen of the Month

“Remember, friends, when we used to talk on the phone for HOURS about our algebra homework? Or about the cute girls in the junior class? Or whether a “time warp” could really exist? Or whether the Mets can win a game this year?  Hey, Barry, remember the time we spend three hours on the phone, watching the same Mets game in our own homes at the same time? Does anyone really think social media does a better job in creating real communication between individuals?”

and has the capacity to love more fully, deeply and authentically.”

Harbor House: The People, The Place

on helping young women in Haiti learn to be mothers, from Livesay (Haiti) Web Log

“Teaching a young woman to be a gentle and involved mother takes time, especially when that young woman did not have an involved and gentle mother herself. Modeling behaviors and attitudes takes time.  Living an example of healthy conflict-resolution and non-violence is a day-to-day task. The long-term investment (years - not weeks or months) into the lives of these young mothers and their children may eventually sow tangible results, but patience will be required in order to see those.  In six weeks or six months we won't write a post telling you that one of the teen moms is ready to launch into the real world again. This is going to be a long process.

This program is not a sprint, it is a marathon.  It is our hope and our belief that investing in these young mothers is investing in the future. Ten young moms raise ten secure, well-loved, well-attached children who go on to raise their own well-loved, well-attached and secure children ... and so it begins.”

The benefit of the doubt

a resonating post for bloggers from Is There Any Mommy Out There?

“I don't know, do you see what I see?  I don't think blogging is petty or "cliquey" or fraught with horrible, mean people.  Blogging is relating to and interacting with people, which is really hard. Rewarding and joyful and hard.  Bloggers are people.  And people are complicated.  People suck sometimes. I suck sometimes. The mantra that I try (and sometimes fail) to keep in my head is benefit of the doubt.  Our entire legal system is based on it.  Lives are spared or lost by it.  We need to give ourselves - and others - the benefit of the doubt.”

Oprah made me think

considering the church’s response to homosexuality from The Terry Family

“Growing up in a small country church, I don't remember anyone who was black, gay or single parenting ever gracing the doors of our church.  When I grew up and changed churches, I find that it is still mostly the case.  I love my church- but I fit the "norm".  I am white, middle class, and married to a man.  I always wonder if any of these characteristics about me were different, would I still be as accepted?  As I watched the documentary, I watched gay men walk into church.  They were searching for something- God, peace, connection- something.  Every now and then, they were welcomed with open arms into a church.  But more often than not, the church immediately began to work on these men to change them, giving them books about how to erradicate their femine ways and embrace God's plan for masculinity and praying over them to be "healed" from their homosexuality.  The documentary followed how conflicted these men felt as they worked through choosing between being themselves and having a relationship with God.”

Fill Your Paper With The Breathings Of Your Heart

in response to oversharing about kids on the internet, from Her Bad Mother

“I also said that it was a struggle, sometimes, many times, to balance my belief – my sincere belief – that telling the truth about motherhood serves an important public and cultural and historical service with some of my reservations about the practice of telling that truth. Because, as I said above, motherhood does involve a lot of complicated feelings and our children do not always walk a perfectly straight line in providing us with charming stories in which they are perfectly adorable and perfectly lovable and, let’s face it, the truth about motherhood – about parenthood – is sometimes painful. William Wordsworth exhorts us to fill our paper with the breathings of our hearts, but sometimes the breath catches, is ragged, hurts upon exhale.”

Sometimes I wake up feeling lucky

keeping balance and a sense of identity while homeschooling, from this woman's work

“I’ll tell you though, nearly a decade into homeschooling and watching families drop in and drop out, I’d say the happiest homeschoolers are families where mom gets to keep her own interests. The ones who struggle the most are the ones who feel like they have to continue to give their all or who think there’s only one right way to educate their kids. If a mom is miserable because she thinks she ought to unschool but the lack of structure goes against her nature, she’s going to burn out. Likewise if she thinks she ought to do lessons but hates making her kids sit and do them, she’s going to be depressed. And then giving up everything (grand passions, happy hobbies, beloved jobs) to be a full-time MOMMY works for no one. Sure when they’re tiny it’s normal to be consumed but your kids grow up and out and we have to grow up and out with them — away from each other, too. It can seem paradoxical to people who don’t know homeschooling (how can you not be all about your kids when you spend most of your time with them?) but I’m living proof that it’s possible.”

I Hope This Doesn’t Cause a Paradox. I Like the Space-Time Continuum Without Giant Tears in It.

a funny peek into the future of blogging from Backpacking Dad

“When I was a kid, dad actually had to type in order to get a blog post up. We could tell when he was ignoring us, because it came with choreography. Nowadays, because of government and private sector investment in blogging technologies, bloggers can ignore their kids just by engaging their Dragon Naturally Thinking mod and upload the post via their eye’s EyeFi, and the kids have no idea that no one was paying attention. Without those cues, kids aren’t learning how to act out. And kids who never learn how to act out, as we all know, turn into actuaries. The evolution of dad blogging means a rise in compound interest calculations all over the world. It’s out of control.”

 

Happy Sunday!

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what I want you to know: adoption and assumptions

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What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions.  It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here.

Today’s guest post is by Kathryn.

What I want you to know is that I’m tired of the assumptions people often make about us as a transracial adoptive family and the choices that we’ve made. Mainly, I’m tired of people assuming that we chose adoption because our "Plan A" – having biological children – didn’t work out for us. Adoption was and always has been God’s Plan A for us. Whether or not we can or can’t have children is irrelevant to the conversation, and I cringe to think of what my son will think when he’s old enough to understand what people (typically strangers) mean by the question, “so you adopted because you can’t have children?”

I want you to know how upsetting it is when someone tells me a story about a friend they know who got pregnant after adopting, and how that could happen to me, too. If I had a dime for everyone who said “Oh, just adopt, and you’ll get pregnant!” I would have… well, a lot of dimes. We did not adopt our son as a last resort, or as a Plan B, or in some weird scheme to get pregnant; and I never want him to have to hear this and think that we did. Assuming that we would rather have had a biological child instead of our beautiful, joyful, animated little boy implies that he was not part of God's plan for our family. It implies that if we were to get pregnant now, that child would be more loved or more legitimately our son or daughter than our adopted son. My little boy is my son, and I am his mother.

I want you to know that I’m tired of complete strangers assuming that it’s OK to ask us questions about our reproductive capabilities, or why we chose international adoption instead of domestic adoption, or how much our adoption cost (no, we didn’t choose international adoption because it’s “easier”, because we didn’t want an open adoption, or any of the other reasons people often assume). These are personal questions that people shouldn’t assume we want to share. This also goes for questions about our son’s history and his biological mother, as well. I’m still looking for that polite, yet firm, reply that communicates that no one should ever be asking these questions of an adoptive parent because it’s none of their business.

I want you to know that sometimes, I would like to go somewhere and meet new people and introduce my son and not have to talk about how he was adopted. I would like him to be able to go to a play group or a park or the mall and not have someone ask a question that then labels him as my “adopted son.” I would love it if people would look at him as just my son, because that’s who he is. I wish that he wouldn’t have to feel the weight of that label everywhere he goes as he grows older. That the history of his first six months before he came to us would be valued, but also placed appropriately in the master scheme of his life story.

I want you to know how discouraging and isolating it is to be in a group of women exchanging pregnancy and birth stories and talking about the first few weeks and months of motherhood, and to be completely left out of the conversation because of the assumption that I have nothing to contribute. I may not have a graphic pregnancy and labor story, but I did labor in other ways to bring my son home.

I want you to know how absolutely infuriating it is to hear someone refer to adoption as the “easy” route to parenthood over a traditional pregnancy. As if eight months of intense paperwork and intrusive home study visits added to nine months of interminable waiting just to see our son’s face, plus an additional four months of waiting and court dates (and failed court dates) all before we could even hold him were somehow easy or easier. I realize that not having had the option to refuse an epidural doesn’t give me much street cred in mom’s groups, but really – do people actually think that adoption is somehow easy?

There were days when I did nothing but cry out to God to move heaven and earth to bring our son home to us. Days when I was capable of nothing but of thinking of him and longing for him to be in my arms, and praying that he was safe and healthy and loved until I could go and get him. Days when just the sight of the crib waiting empty in his room was enough to make me burst into tears. Months that went by when friends became pregnant and had their children in the space of time while we waited just to find out who our son was. He wasn’t in my womb for nine months, but God placed him in my heart and mind and soul in the years that we waited for him.

And those first few weeks once our son was home? Even though he was six months old when we brought him home, we were essentially caring for a newborn because of his developmental lags. I’ve experienced the sleepless nights, the feedings every three hours, the waking up in a panic throughout the night just to make sure he’s breathing.

I wish people would ask me about my first few weeks and months with my son, rather than assuming that because we adopted him that he somehow arrived to us exactly as he is now. I would like to be able to share about how my husband and I learned how to be parents in another country, in a tiny hotel suite shared with another couple and their two children that they had also just met. How we managed to make it through our first week as a family with rolling electrical blackouts and no heat (yes, Africa can be cold), or a pediatrician to call, or hospitals with first-world-level care, or access to family members or friends or even Google for questions or help. How we flew almost 24 hours on no sleep, with flights full of witnesses watching our every parenting snafu, with a sick baby that we had only just begun to understand and parent. How we made it through our first few weeks of breathing treatments and atomic green poo and frequent bottles to make sure our tiny baby gained weight. How even when he was asleep, I had trouble sleeping because I was so worried about his health.

Maybe it’s conceited to think so, but I believe that this is our ‘labor story’. I believe it’s a crucial part of who we are as parents. But outside of our friends and family members who know our story, people rarely ask. Instead, they ask the intrusive questions - the questions about his birth mother, and why we chose international adoption, and whether or not we can have biological children. They often assume that because I didn’t give birth to my son, I have little or nothing to offer to a parenting conversation.

I want you to know that I’m not bitter about how people respond to us as a family, or the questions that are asked, or the stares that we get when we’re in public. I’m working hard to make every annoying or hurtful assumption become a gentle learning experience for the person who makes it. Before we began this journey I made many of the same mistaken assumptions, and I'm sure that I made hurtful comments unwittingly. I wish that someone who had adopted had communicated what they were going through to me so that I could have come alongside them and helped them bear the burden, rather than making things more difficult.

Kathryn blogs at Of Shamrocks and Pineapples. 

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things that are both helpful and offensive

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1. The other day, Mark was sitting at his new ipad, asking me some curious questions about my monthly cycle because he had downloaded an app to track my periods.

(At least it wasn’t this one?)

2. Yesterday, this magazine came in the mail.  I DID NOT ORDER IT, and have no idea who did.  Is someone trying to send me a message?

3. Also, on my twitter sidebar, twitter recommends that I would enjoy reading the updates of the following two people:

I’m not sure what any of this says about me.  But I have a hunch that none of it is good.

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the bachelor cycle of shame

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I want to talk for a minute about how I went from despising the show The Bachelor, to last night lying awake in concern over the fate of Brad and Emily’s relationship.

First of all, every season I vow to stop watching this show.  I find the whole premise skeevy, especially the inevitable fantasy suite date where the bachelor spends the night with three different women in some attempt to kick the tires before he buys  test the limits of a 10-day dose of zythromax get to know the women on a more intimate level.

There are so many things wrong with this show. A guy dates several girls simultaneously, who he courts with big-budget dates including helicopter rides, candle-lit jacuzzi makeouts, and overnight dates. Hardly the kind of environment that leads to fidelity and commitment. And then he is expected to propose to the girl in six weeks.  A few days after he shared an overnight date with another woman.  Hardly shocking that few of them make it.

I really had no intention of watching this season, but darn you, Twitter!  Every Monday night, the pithy comments were flying about Brad the Tool and his bevy of spray-tanned pharmaceutical reps with neon white teeth.  I needed to watch, just so I could understand the jokes!

So I did, with judgement and shame.  It went a little something like this:

Weeks 1-4: Watching with righteous indignation

Weeks 5-6: Wait, Emily’s story is really sad!

Weeks 7-8: Okay, Brad is a tool, but also, maybe a little sincere?  And lonely?

Week 9: Wow, Emily is so pretty and poised.  I might be falling in love with her. And what lipstick shade is that?

Week 10: OMG EMILY!  SHE LOST EVERYTHING AND IS SO SCARED! SHE NEEDS THE SHELTER ONLY BRAD’S LARGE BICEPS CAN PROVIDE!

Week 11: Brad reveals his desire to be a father to Emily’s fatherless child.  My heart melts.  I become completely enmeshed in the future of Brad, Emily, and Little Ricki.

And so somehow, it came to pass that I went from thinking this show was a spectacle to mock, to chewing my nails off yesterday worrying about whether or not Emily was going to be rejected.  I was completely invested in this outcome.  I tried to play it cool, and when Mark turned on the Les Miserables 25th anniversary just as the finale was about to start, I was like, TOTALLY!  Let’s watch Les Miserables.  I love PBS way more than reality tv!  And I did – for about an hour, until finally I was like, ENOUGH!  I cannot stand it.  WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH EMILY!?

And then I turned on The Bachelor and bawled at their happy proposal.  BUT WAIT!  Trouble in paradise.  Apparently, Emily did not enjoy watching her fiancé making out with other girls over the course of the last twelve weeks.  Apparently Brad has a temper.  Apparently dating someone who lives in another city is not such a great plan.

Oh, I was so disappointed to hear of their troubles.  Couldn’t they see . . . they were just sabotaging their relationship out of fear?  I was just so concerned.  Listen to what Tristan is saying, you fools.  LISTEN!

And then Mark walked in on me crying wiping something out of my eye.  And he said, “Those two are the final two?  They look like that and they both haven’t been able to find someone yet?  Whatever.  They have issues”

He’s probably right.  But it didn’t stop me from googling them this morning to try see if there was any update to their relationship. 

In related news: I may be giving up reality tv for lent.

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the orange bandit

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My kids love those California Cuties oranges.  Or tangerines?  Whatever they are . . . we love them.  I am kind of stingy with the snacking schedule around here, but the kids are allowed to eat fresh fruit whenever they want.  So they are grabbing these oranges all day.

Eating oranges and dressing up in costumes.  It’s what we do.

Karis likes the oranges, too.  But more than eating oranges, she loves to master a task that her older siblings can do.  She has been trying to peel her own oranges since she was about 18 months old.  And just recently, she figured out how to do it all by herself.

The problem is that her appetite for peeling oranges is greater than her appetite for eating oranges.  She will eat a few, and then she will continue to use a chair to get more oranges to peel.  And then she will contemplate what to do, because her enthusiastic peeling has left her with a predicament.

     

And then she throws the orange segments away.  And grabs another orange to start peeling.

I have scolded her for this time and time again.  I explain that if she opens an orange, she has to eat it.  I sit her down and instruct her to eat the orange before she opens another.  All of this makes her very, very angry.  Because she just wants to peel oranges.  All. Day. Long.

She is a smart cookie, though, and figured out that mommy can easily find the evidence of her uneaten oranges, due to the fact that mommy frequently has an overflowing trashcan that doesn’t hide things very well.

So she has started hiding the orange segments. All around the house.

The other day I went to apply some lipstick, and this is what I found in my purse:

Fortunately for me, I discovered this in the privacy of my own home and not in the middle of some high-powered business meeting.

Also, I’m pretty sure I’ve never been to a high-powered business meeting.

But if I was, I wouldn’t want to open up a lipstick case full of day-old fruit.

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what I want you to know: parental rights, human rights, and foster care

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What I Want You to Know is a series of reader submissions.  It is an attempt to allow people to tell their personal stories, in the hopes of bringing greater compassion to the unique issues each of us face. If you would like to submit a story to this series, click here.

The following post is by Campbell, who blogs at The Percolated Paradox.  Campbell aged out of the fostercare sytem and is a passionate writer on the subject.  I hope you will take the time to read this post and check out her blog.  This is a subject close to my heart, as our first adoption was through the fostercare system.

When people abuse their animals and the police find out, they usually lose those animals for good.  They aren’t given a second, third, or 12^th chance to take care of their pets.  With children it's different.  Children are removed from their abusive homes only to be given back to the people who abuse them.  The law states that biological parents have a right to their children but the legal rights of parents should never trump the human rights of their children.  Abusive parents should not be given chance after chance to be decent parents and human beings for their children.  CPS removed my siblings and me from our mother at least 12 times before she had her rights removed and was sent to prison for felony child abuse.  By the time her rights were removed and I became available for adoption I was 8 years old.  The chances of an 8 year old foster child being adopted are pretty small.  CPS waited until I was too old and too damaged to be loved by a family.  If they had kept me when I was an infant and adopted me out to someone that wanted a baby my life would be so different today.  The lives of my siblings would be so different today.  I’m not saying my life would have been perfect or easy.  I’ve never wanted a perfect or easy life.  I just wanted a family that loved me and a place to call home.  I just wanted to belong somewhere.  That’s all I ever wanted.  That’s all any foster child ever wants.  They just want to be safe and loved.

Parents should not have years to get their act together.  There should be a limited amount of time for parents to get their acts together and that time should start ticking the moment a child is removed from their care.  When the time runs out, so should their rights and their children should become adoptable.  They should not be allowed to abuse their children over and over before someone steps in and says that’s enough.  I don’t care what the law says, children deserve better.  Parents don’t deserve more than one chance to do the right thing.

If I were to beat an adult, starve them, and lock them in a closet for days I would be sent to prison and probably for a very long time.  If I were to do that to my child, my child would be removed from my care and I would probably be required to go to counseling and parenting classes if I wanted my child back.   I probably wouldn’t go to jail.  I know this because that is what happened with my mother repeatedly.  My mother only went to prison for child abuse after years of some pretty horrific abuse that I can’t really write about.  

In my opinion, an assault on a child should be considered far worse than an assault on an adult.  Children deserve the same rights and protections as adults.  They deserve to be protected from adults.   I know this sounds like common sense but this is not what is happening in our country today.  Parents are given years to do what they need to do for their children.  Those are precious years of the childhoods of those children.  The more time that passes the more damage that occurs to those children.  I wish my story was unusual.  I wish this wasn’t still happening to children today but it is.  This happens to children every single day.  Sometimes what is best for children is love and stability and not biology.  I wish being a parent was a privilege and not a right.  I wish people would pay attention to what is really happening to children in our country and the rest of the world. 

Adults who have spent a year or more in foster care are two times more likely to have PTSD than war veterans.  They are also five times more likely to attempt suicide than the general population.  That’s alarming.  I do not understand why this isn’t considered a national crisis.  I don’t know much about the care of veterans with PTSD, but I do know they at least have some resources.  Foster children have none.  Trust me, I have been searching.  Why don’t more people know about the horrifying statistics that foster children face when they grow up in the system and when they age out?  Why don’t more people care?  Even if people have no compassion or humanity for the plight of foster children they should at least care about the costs to society and their taxes.

Every child has the potential to be a healthy, happy, contributing member of the world.  Foster care makes reaching that potential nearly impossible.  Foster care produces traumatized, undereducated, lost, angry, and damaged adults and then leaves them to fend for themselves.  Read the statistics that foster children face here.  This comes with a price beyond the lives of the children.  This comes with a cost to society and tax payers so even if they don’t care about foster children they should care about what it costs the country and the world when their government abuses children and then abandon them for growing up.   

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