The Donaldson Report & Cornrows

The Donaldson report on transracial adoption came out this past week and it basically found that:

1. AA children still are not adopted at the same rate as white children.
   
2. That love isn't enough when parenting children of another race.
   
3. Agencies need to do more to recruit AA families.
   

I was going to write a big post about how I agree but don't agree with the new findings. But I just don't have the spirit for it right now. Because really, most of their findings are not surprising. And besides...... I just wanted to tell y'all that this transracial-adoptive-mama has found her cornrowing groove.

When I started this blog a year and a half ago I was on a mission to master cornrowing. I think I'm finally really comfortable and now I'm always on the lookout for new complicated parts to try.

I'm so proud of me. I think I rock.

Biological Ties

This past week Josie meet her biological sibling. When Josie was born she was immediately placed with a foster family (us) and then DFS found that her mother had just closed a case with them a year and a half before. That foster family decided not to accept her placement at the time because (like us now) they had two very close kiddos and another kid at home. Their home was full, thank goodness for us. I can't imagine my baby girl not being a part of our family...the ringleader of our family!

As a person with 5 half siblings myself, I find the commonalities of biology fascinating. I wasn't raised with my siblings- I was born 20 years after my oldest sister. I was my mother's "second family" after divorcing and remarrying. My siblings and I are different generations with one common parent. But we are all sooo strikingly similar, our hands, our hair texture, our silliness, our need for the calmness of the outdoors. Something primal that connects us all that makes us part of one.

Jo and her sister have so many similarities that can't be explained by anything but that oneness to each other. I'm so thankful that her sisters family wants to nurture that connection. I'm hopeful that this is one biological tie that will always give her roots.

Hair Happy

During one of our "parent workshops" at the family week we just attended was a session on multicultural families. What I thought would be a sharing of information, resources and information quickly turned laughable. One particular area that always gets to me is the lack of interest in learning about AA hair in transracial adoptions. It really was scary how many people thought it would be better to cut off their little girls hair rather than learning how to properly care for hair different than their own. Out of our small group of parents I was the only person who enthusiastically enjoyed creating different hairstyles.

It was obvious many parents spent zero time learning about hair care and the cultural implications of hair in AA culture. The facilitator asked me to do a workshop next year.....which is in itself laughable to think that a midwestern white girl like me was the best expert they could find on the subject.

As a white woman trying to raise strong, proud, black women I am aware of how critical the definition of race, culture and beauty is tied to hair- specifically curly hair. Hair has strong personal, cultural and even political meaning within and out of the black community. I'm constantly trying to learn more about different styles, products and resources -not only for myself, but for the women my girls will become.

I hope to arm them with enough information and resources that they can make educated thoughtful decisions about their own hair. I hope to take the learning curve out of caring for their hair by passing on what I've learned about what works for each of their individual hair types. I hope to give them strong ties to their culture of origin by maintaining hairstyles that are stylish among their peers. I hope to build a strong mother-daughter bond by spending time lovingly grooming and styling my daughters hair. I hope to always let them know how beautiful they are by being informed and thoughtful in caring for their beautiful curly hair.

Learning more about Cerebral Palsy

With two CP special needs kiddos in the house we're super busy. Lili (and Jo) goes to her special preschool 4x a week. Both her and CJ get OT and PT 2x a week each. We're going to start going to a special CP clinic at the local children's hospital 1x a month. We'll see a lot of specialists all in one afternoon. I'm learning more and more about CP.

In the United States today, more people have cerebral palsy than any other developmental disability, including Down syndrome, epilepsy, and autism. Although children with very mild cerebral palsy occasionally recover by the time they are school-aged, cerebral palsy is usually a lifelong disability. In most cases, the movement and other problems associated with cerebral palsy affect what a child is able to learn and do to varying degrees throughout their life.

CJ has Spastic Cerebral Palsy (stiff and difficult movement)
Lili has Ataxic Cerebral Palsy (disturbed sense of balance and depth perception)

Both of their cerebral palsy may be the result of an injury to their brain before, during, or after birth. In Lili's case, as a very premature baby, bleeding into the brain (intraventricular hemorrhage) caused extensive damage. I think in CJ's case nuerological damage was caused by toxic injuries, or poisoning, from alcohol or drugs used by the mother.

Well isn't that neat?

A friend just emailed some pics she had taken of her kids through a generous photographer with Celebrating Adoption

If you have adopted within the past year (or if you're going to -hang on to their info) they will waive their fee and take portraits of your newly adopted family member. Check it out! I've contacted a local photographer through their site and hope to hear back soon.

School stuff

Lili will be continuing to attend her special language preschool during the summer session and the first day is Wednesday. We've decided (budget be damned) to send Josie too for this semester. She is always so excited when we drop Lili off at school and I'm hoping she'll still be excited Wednesday.

This past weekend we went to a kids birthday party that was held at one of those big-inflatable-bouncy-things places. We almost had Lili stay home with DP because we figured she would just throw a fit and get overwhelmed. Boy did we call that wrong. Lili had an all out, no fear, more-more-more, blast and a half. Josie on the other hand was scared of everything and didn't participate at all (well except for blowing out the birthday girls candles mid-song) and was uncharacteristically shy. I'm still searching their bedroom for the alien pods because these are not my children. Who came down and switched personalities on me? LOL

CJ had his first IFSP (like an IEP but for kids under 3) meeting today. With his CP diagnosis he qualifies for any services he needs. He already has PT once a week and now we'll be adding OT once a week as well. His SW attended the meeting and told us that mom relapsed this week. More self help meetings were added to her goal plan. *sigh* I don't know if she's gonna make it. This isn't a good sign. Sorry baby boy.

Blogging for LGBT Families

Rather than writing a political or theoretical post today, I'm going to write a very personal one. One that many LGBT families can relate to.

I am a mom.
I wipe noses and change diapers.
I'm there for every middle-of-the-night feeding, every boo boo and tummy ache.
I play peekaboo and build sand castles.
I make every meal and snack.
I'm the first person they run to when hurt, scared or tired.
I sing nursery rhymes and play tag.
I nurture and care for traumatized children.

I am a mom.



I'm mama, I'm the primary caregiver. However, I am not a legal parent. My partner does, but I have no rights to my children.

Hello RAD where ya been?

Sometimes I can live my life like a normal mom. I complain that the laundry and dishes never end, I fret over birthday parties and I talk a little too much about poop and pee. But then, some days I am reminded that our lives will never be "normal".

After a pretty uneventful holiday weekend Lili had a raging meltdown tonight. Lili is a sweet little girl who is mentally about half her chronological age. She has mild Cerebral Palsy and has only been walking unsupported for about 6 months. She has a diagnosis of RAD but we have worked through some pretty rough attachment issues. I say worked through.....but it's never over.

Tonight I cleaned up feces from the floors, walls and bedroom door. She took all the clothes out of her closet that she could reach and smeared them with poo. She was unconsolable. It took forever to calm her down. After she was cleaned up I laid down with her and told her over and over again that everything was alright, she could go to sleep now.

But really I have no idea if everything is alright. I don't even know what set her off.

More Hair adventures

Jo is sporting some pretty cute two strand twists this week. Lili is in simple poofs that I'm changing every few days. I've been doing simple hair-do's lately as I gear up and prepare for some intensive summer do's. I'm going to try to do some labor intensive small cornrows on Jo's hair and leave them in for 4-6 weeks. I've ordered some sleep caps (we already use a satin pillow) to try to keep them nice for longer time periods.

I've been experimenting with making my own hair and skin supplies for a while now and I almost have a recipe perfected. All the measurements are approximate because I just eyeball most things. Here's the recipe so far:

LiliBella Lotion Bars
3 oz pure unrefined Shea butter
2 oz beeswax
2 oz pure coconut oil
essential oils for fragrance

I cut up the shea butter into smaller chunks and place in a microwaveable bowl. I then grate the beeswax from handmade candles my BIL gives us. I melt both of those in the microwave. I add the coconut oil and essential oils then mix together. I have a small tin that I use as a mold and let sit until solid. It looks like a little bar of soap but it's actually lotion. I like making a bar so I don't use too much product on their hair. I rub the bar in my hands like soap and then apply to their hair like pomade or gel.

I use a similar recipe for their skin but use more oil and less wax. Lili's skin just glows from it. When I took the picture of her above I was just amazed at how great her skin looks now. I've started using it too.

Pouting

I've been trying to write a post to explain my feeling without sounding whiny but I don't think I can. An online adoption community forum that I have called home is in an uproar and is no longer a place that I want to belong to. I'm hurt by some people I've considered friends, I'm morning the loss of a support system that I've relied on for so long and most of all.....I'm just pouting because my home is gone.

Can I just whine for sec?

Lili has come soooo far. I know that. Developmentally, socially and attachment-wise. She really has made great strides.

But why does she still have a nervous breakdown when we go into a store? Not a fit or a tantrum....but a complete meltdown. Hitting me, sobbing uncontrollably, wailing so loud everyone turns around to see if I'm killing my child. Why? I ask her what she wants.....Do you want to sit in the cart? Do you want to walk? I once had to sit on the floor in an aisle at Target rocking her like a baby and singing lullabies for 15-20 minutes before I could get her calmed down enough to even leave. I would gladly bribe her with sweets and toys if it would make a difference.

Sensory overload? Attachment issues? Trying to drain yo-mama syndrome?

Talking to foster/adoptive kids about their story

I've been wanting to make a book for each of the girls that tells the story of their history with age appropriate information. The perfectionist in me has procrastinated for months, I wanted to draw it in Corel, edit it in Photoshop and have it professionally bound. This week I just sat down and got it done. I used blank 4x6 index cards, Sharpie markers and a simple photo album. It doesn't have any words so the story can be told orally and changed as they understand more.

Jo loves her book and wants me to read it over and over again.

Sharing Info

As a foster/adoptive parent I often struggle with sharing my children's info with others. I want to be able to share my life like a typical parent, asking for advice and venting when frustrated. On the other hand I don't want to share too much info that I will regret it later (Oh, she's a drug baby...that's why she does that) or worry that I might be compromising a foster child's privacy.

I struggle with that here on the blog too. So sometimes big things are happening in my world and I'm not sure how to phrase it or how much to tell here. I want to share my experiences with the system to inform and to advocate......and to feel a sense of community. One of the hardest parts of being an "employee" of the system is not having the support and network of close "co-workers". At an office job it's often easy to relate the woes of a work day with someone over the cubicle.

So in a way having this blog and reading other foster/adoptive blogs is a lot like corporate "Knowledge Management" Knowledge management is described as “the process of capturing and sharing a community’s collective expertise to fulfill its mission.”

Thanks for stopping by my cubicle today.

Hey do you smell cake?

“There is no truth. There is only perception.”

As an adult I can look back and be thankful for my happy flawed childhood. It helped shape who I am today and gives me a perspective on life & love that enhances my journey as a foster and adoptive parent.

I can empathize with first parents who have lost their children to the system. My own parents were imperfect people who battled drugs, alcohol and poverty. My parents made choices that could have put them in similar situations to some of my foster children's birth parents. My own sisters couldn't have parented their children without the strong familial and social support that they received.

I don't believe that people who lose their children to the state are evil. I think they are imperfect, complicated humans that make poor choices with limited resources. I know that both of my kids first moms loved them- they both said so. I know for one, her addictions were stronger than her ability to care for herself or her child. That makes me sad....and sometimes mad, for my child, who will always have a piece of her missing because her family of origin is not intact.

Learning to do AA hair

If you read my blog you know I love doing the girls' hair. It's like creating a new painting every week. As a fine artist by background it really helps me stay creatively focused while at the same time maintaining a important cultural aspect of my childrens lives. It's also a great bonding time for mommy and daughter. If you are thinking about adopting a child of AA heritage or if you're just interested, here are some of the resources I've used to find out more about creative hairstyles, products and hair care regimes.


A good condensed overview of AA hair and skincare

Books: It's All Good Hair, Kinki Kreations, CurlyGirl

Kids books: Happy to Be Nappy, I Love My Hair!

Websites: www.naturallycurly.com & www.nappturality.com

Online groups: Soul Of Adoption , Yahoo Hair and Skincare Group

Online Tutorials: Crazycoils's site (a woman with hair texture just like Lili's) Cornrows & Braids

Products: I use many natural inexpensive homemade mixes and Oyin & Carol's Daughter

I've also learned so much from AA friends, other foster/adoptive parents and many well meaning strangers who approach me in the black hair care aisle thinking I must be lost.

Racism in Foster Care & Adoption

A recent post at Baggage And Bug and a current discussion at Soul Of Adoption have me thinking about the effects of racism on minority/AA children in foster care.

My neighborhood block captain once asked me why I was placed with mostly black babies. It wasn't a question she really wanted an answer to... and one that I would never be able to explain to her anyway. As a transracial adoptive mom I've come to realize most white folks don't even realize that institutionalized racism exists or even that they are experiencing white priviledge.

Some facts about racism and foster care:

1. There is NOT a higher incidence of abuse or neglect among minority families, but there is a higher likelihood that minority children will end up in foster care.

2. Poor children are more likely to end up in foster care. Although AA families represent only about 12.9% of the population, 23.6% of African-Americans are in poverty.

3. Although white and black women were almost equally likely to test positive for drugs, physicians were 10 times more likely to report AA women to authorities after delivery.

4. African-Americans are likely to serve more prison time than whites for the same offense. Thus AA children in foster care may be separated from their families longer affecting their chances for reunification.

Excerpted from: Ruth McRoy, Expedited Permanency: Implications for African-American Children and Families, 12 Virginia Journal of Social Policy and the Law 475 -489. 477-481 (2005) (81 Footnotes)

Black children are overrepresented in the foster care system.

Black parents are underrepresented in the potential parent pool. You would think that this leads into transracial adoption...but it doesn't.

The fact of the matter is that the vast majority of American adults prefer to adopt children of their same race. With this trend of same race adoption, the result is that white children are often fought over while non-white children are languishing in a broken foster care system. Even private adoption agencies are likely to price adoption costs of a white baby at twice that of a AA child.

The hardest part of being a transracial adoptive mom is KNOWING that other people are prejudiced and biased against my beautiful brown curly haired daughters. They don't see Lili's infectious smile and strong spirit, they don't see Josie's hilarious mad face or her beautiful singing voice- they see black kids. Ones that they would never open their hearts or homes to, ones that they would never choose.

Immense Loss

This analogy has always captured my attention...I always think of this when I'm trying to relate to how Lili must be feeling....



Immense Loss

Imagine for a moment… You have met the person you've dreamed about all your life. He has every quality that you desire in a spouse. You plan for the wedding, enjoying every free moment with your fiancée. You love his touch, his smell, the way he looks into your eyes. For the first time in your life, you understand what is meant by "soul mate," for this person understands you in a way that no one else does. Your heart beats in rhythm with his. Your emotions are intimately tied to his every joy, his every sorrow. The wedding comes. It is a happy celebration, but the best part is that you are finally the wife of this wonderful man. You fall asleep that night, exhausted from the day's events, but relaxed and joyful in the knowledge that you are next to the person who loves you more than anyone in the world…the person who will be with you for the rest of your life.

The next morning you wake up, nestled in your partner's arms. You open your eyes and immediately look for his face. But IT'S NOT HIM! You are in the arms of another man. You recoil in horror. Who is this man? Where is your beloved? You ask questions of the new man, but it quickly becomes apparent that he doesn't understand you. You search every room in the house, calling and calling for your husband. The new guy follows you around, trying to hug you, pat you on the back,...even trying to stroke your arm, acting like everything is okay. But you know that nothing is okay. Your beloved is gone. Where is he? Will he return? When? What has happened to him? Weeks pass. You cry and cry over the loss of your beloved. Sometimes you ache silently, in shock over what has happened. The new guy tries to comfort you. You appreciate his attempts, but he doesn't speak your language-either verbally or emotionally. He doesn't seem to realize the terrible thing that has happened...that your sweetheart is gone. You find it difficult to sleep. The new guy tries to comfort you at bedtime with soft words and gentle touches, but you avoid him, preferring to sleep alone, away from him and any intimate words or contact.

Months later, you still ache for your beloved, but gradually you are learning to trust this new guy. He's finally learned that you like your coffee black, not doctored up with cream and sugar. Although you still don't understand his bedtime songs, you like the lilt of his voice and take some comfort in it. More time passes. One morning, you wake up to find a full suitcase sitting next to the front door. You try to ask him about it, but he just takes you by the hand and leads you to the car. You drive and drive and drive. Nothing is familiar. Where are you? Where is he taking you? You pull up to a large building. He leads you to an elevator and up to a room filled with people. Many are crying. Some are ecstatic with joy. You are confused. And worried. The man leads you over to the corner. Another man opens his arms and sweeps you up in an embrace. He rubs your back and kisses your cheeks, obviously thrilled to see you. You are anything but thrilled to see him. Who in the world is he? Where is your beloved? You reach for the man who brought you, but he just smiles (although he seems to be tearing up, which concerns you), pats you on the back, and puts your hand in the hands of the new guy. The new guy picks up your suitcase and leads you to the door. The familiar face starts openly crying, waving and waving as the elevator doors close on you and the new guy.

The new guy drives you to an airport and you follow him, not knowing what else to do. Sometimes you cry, but then the new guy tries to make you smile, so you grin back, wanting to "get along." You board a plane. The flight is long. You sleep a lot, wanting to mentally escape from the situation. Hours later, the plane touches down. The new guy is very excited and leads you into the airport where dozens of people are there to greet you. Light bulbs flash as your photo is taken again and again. The new guy takes you to another guy who hugs you. Who is this one? You smile at him. Then you are taken to another man who pats your back and kisses your cheek. Then yet another fellow gives you a big hug and messes your hair. Finally, someone (which guy is this?) pulls you into his arms with the biggest hug you've ever had. He kisses you all over your cheeks and croons to you in some language you've never heard before. He leads you to a car and drives you to another location. Everything here looks different. The climate is not what you're used to. The smells are strange. Nothing tastes familiar, except for the black coffee. You wonder if someone told him that you like your coffee black. You find it nearly impossible to sleep. Sometimes you lie in bed for hours, staring into the blackness, furious with your husband for leaving you, yet aching from the loss. The new guy checks on you. He seems concerned and tries to comfort you with soft words and a mug of warm milk. You turn away, pretending to go to asleep.

People come to the house. You can feel the anxiety start to bubble over as you look into the faces of all the new people. You tightly grasp the new guy's hand. He pulls you closer. People smile and nudge one other, marveling at how quickly you've fallen in love. Strangers reach for you, wanting to be a part of the happiness. Each time a man hugs you, you wonder if he will be the one to take you away. Just in case, you keep your suitcase packed and ready. Although the man at this house is nice and you're hanging on for dear life, you've learned from experience that men come and go, so you just wait in expectation for the next one to come along. Each morning, the new guy hands you a cup of coffee and looks at you expectantly. A couple of times the pain and anger for your husband is so great that you lash out, sending hot coffee across the room, causing the new guy to yelp in pain. He just looks at you, bewildered. But most of the time you calmly take the cup. You give him a smile. And wait. And wait. And wait.

--Written by Cynthia Hockman-Chupp, analogy courtesy of Dr. Kali Miller

Understanding, rationalizing and just accepting

This post at Thoughts from a Fostering Family brings up such a good topic.

"You also have to remember that you cannot heal them or walk their own journeys for them. They have some serious healing of themselves to do. They need to walk that journey and heal themselves, and we have to accept that we can parent, but we cannot control." Thoughts from a Fostering Family: Good parenting and surviving as a parent

So many times I get frustrated with Lili's behavior because I'm trying to understand and rationalize from my point of view instead of accepting that she is acting out of her experiences of pain and fear.

It's so hard to step back and realize that even if I ever do get to understand "why" it may not be enough to fix her hurt. Rationalizing her irrational behavior won't heal it either.

I can keep her safe, I can lead her to the path of healing but all of the real work that needs to be done is outside of my control....and sometimes that breaks my heart.

Deciding to Foster

Maggie's comment on the previous post brings up an important part of my foster journey that I skipped over. So let me back up a little bit in Chapter One. I began this journey for one selfish reason: I wanted to be a parent.

Adoption from the foster care system was a good fit because it was not a priority for us to have a "perfect child" typically defined as a healthy white infant. Through the initial paperwork we had to strictly define the type of child we the resources and abilities to care for. Everything from age, race, abilities, drug exposure, genetic mental illness and family/sibling group size. We were very open - partly out of desire -partly because we felt we had a support system, community and background that would enable us to help children with varied life experiences.

I wanted to be a parent. I wanted to adopt from the foster care system. I didn't necessarily want to be a foster parent. From the paperwork stage, through all the classes and up until the moment the homestudy was to be written we were going through this process to adopt....not to foster. At the last minute we changed our minds and decided to open up to being foster parents too. It was an easy decision because we didn't really know what we were getting ourselves into.

"Oh I could NEVER do that....how do you just give them up?"

The fear of losing a child is the most common comment I get about foster parenting. It is a very valid fear that I had...and lived through. My second foster placement was a newborn straight from the hospital. I cared for Vivi for the first 7 months of her life and then she joined her forever family. It hurt like hell. To this day I still mourn the loss of the dream of our lives together. By the time that I opened up my heart again and was placed with Ekida I knew it would hurt but I also knew she needed me...and I wanted to be there for her.

At some point the selfish desire to be a parent transforms into the child centered life of being a parent. The childs needs become more important than your own.

In foster parenting, the need is greater than most. A child enters your home with a NEED for a stable loving parent to help them heal and grow. "Oh I could NEVER do that" Yes, you could...if you were personally touched by someone in need, you would do whatever you could to help. It's easy to say no to an abstract concept but not when it is sad, big brown eyes looking at you. If you feel qualified to parent a child, you're probably qualified to foster a child. It is an emotional rollercoaster and it isn't for everyone. The need is greater, the problems are bigger, but the love is the same.

"How do you just give them up?" I never give them up, I allow them to go where they are destined to be. I parent them, I love them, I help them grow into the person they are to become. They never leave my heart, their pictures never leave the walls of my home. They are my children forever and I hope they have benefited from the time they spent here. I know I have.



There is a song from the musical Wicked called For Good that I call The Vivi Song that explains my experience of losing a child I have parented.

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you....

Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you....
I have been changed for good.

Being a mom to a Special Needs child

Just for background... I knew Lili was my daughter from the moment we read about her on the waiting child list. Her specific areas of delay and her medical needs just happened to be everything we had experience in. We were a great resource to a child with great needs. She was my daughter, she was meant to be here. That being said.....

Being a mom to a special needs child is often quite draining and exhausting. Yesterday was just such a day.

Lili, who is 6 weeks away from her 3rd birthday, just entered the Terrible Two's in full force. She is globally developmentally delayed and socially/emotionally much younger than her chronological age. Added to that, she has Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD) and Sensory Integration Disfunction(SID). I know more acronyms than I care to.....

Yesterday was more RAD than TT as she raged more than tantrumed. She hit her speech therapist and refused to fully participate in her physical therapy. She was so angry, angry that she had to take a nap, angry that I expected her NOT to tear up her books, angry that she wasn't allowed to hit. I'm so worn out and it's about to get worse.

Lili will be starting a special theraputic preschool in about three weeks. For a child that has lost so many caregivers I'm afraid that she will think it's happening again. I'm afraid that all our work getting her to the anxious stage of attachment will be lost...and that the raging and defiance will begin in full force. Kids who lose so much, expect loss and grief. It's what they know.

I'm so not ready for this. I'm dreading it.