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You know you are a foster/adoptive parent when............


Ottakee
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You know you are a foster/adoptive parent when:

The bank security question asks you the first name of your youngest child and you have to think about it a minute and try to remember who was the youngest when they asked you as it changes frequently

When your child comes up to ask you how many siblings they have and you really have to sit down to figure that one out......bio siblings, adoptive siblings, foster siblings, etc. Heck, we just count everyone as family.

When you get strange looks as you explain to a child that so and so is "your brother's brother's brother"......so, yes you can count him as a brother too.

You name and dh's name are on the birth certificate but you hadn't even met each other when the child was born.

Your name is on an out of state birth certificate.......yet neither you nor dh has ever been to said state.

 

 

 

 

 

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When you spend more time on the phone with case workers, doctors, and early intervention specialists than you do with your friends and family.

 

When you have to rearrange your family's schedule to arrange yet another caseworker visit.

 

When your child screams with night terrors for four nights in a row following a supervised birth parent visit.

 

When you can't remember the name of your child's caseworker because the old one keeps getting overwhelmed and quitting.

 

When you look in the mirror and see all the gray hairs caused by the stress and worry.

 

When you cry yourself to sleep at night because you are powerless to right the wrongs in "the system."

 

When you learn that the custody hearing is postponed for the seventh time so the drug-addicted birth parent can have more opportunities to get his life together and (not) show up for more visits.

 

When you are congratulated at the adoption finalization and you realize it has taken over four years of this child's life to become an official member of your family and he has been in your home since he was two days old.

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When your answer to all kinds of important-sounding questions about your kid is "I have no idea."

 

When you can confidently say "she definitely didn't get that [trait] from me."

 

When the concept that your kids are sisters is difficult for many people to understand.

 

When your kid says "you're my favorite mommy ever" and the language isn't illogical.

 

When you can't say "I brought you into this world, I can take you out."

 

When you are exempt from the "eew, you did THAT!?" after the sex talk.

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When you spend more time on the phone with case workers, doctors, and early intervention specialists than you do with your friends and family.

 

When you have to rearrange your family's schedule to arrange yet another caseworker visit.

 

.

 

When you look in the mirror and see all the gray hairs caused by the stress and worry.

 

When you cry yourself to sleep at night because you are powerless to right the wrongs in "the system."

 

 

I am finding these things so true

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When all of a sudden your whole life is going from one type of therapist to another 

 

When you have to travel 100s of km all the time for therapists, psychologists, peadiatricians etc etc

 

When sometimes you wish you could whip out a sign that says  we are working with these children and yes they do have a reason to scream  while in the shopping center, on the train, while in any public space

 

 

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Or when the birth parents cancels a visit last might while you are already driving there and you have to quickly rearrange your schedule and deal with the child who has been let down yet again.
 

And when said child is just getting back to normal and there is another visit as you have to do 2 a week.


When you have to rearrange your family's schedule to arrange yet another caseworker visit.

When your child screams with night terrors for four nights in a row following a supervised birth parent visit.
 

 

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When you are exempt from the "eew, you did THAT!?" after the sex talk.

I LOVE this one.  I remember growing up and there was a neighborhood family that adopted all 3 of their children and HONESTLY I remember thinking as a preteen/young teen that I knew exactly why they adopted as they were the type of people that would NEVER have had kids the traditional way :)

 

When we went over the big facts of life one day were I had one of mine look up at me and with all seriousness say, "I am just adopting" as there was no way she was doing THAT to have bio kids.

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When sometimes you wish you could whip out a sign that says  we are working with these children and yes they do have a reason to scream  while in the shopping center, on the train, while in any public space

A friend and I were recently talking and we wanted tshirts either for us or the kids that said.........We are foster parents, our family is a work in progress or We didn't make this mess, we are trying to fix it

 

or something for the child to wear.

 

Obviously we don't want to put it all out there in public but after the fits, meltdowns, 15 month old cussing at the little old lady in the grocery store, etc. It sure would be nice to have some sort of disclaimer t shirt.

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When asked for the child's Medicare card you have to search around for a scrap of paper with the number on it because somewhere some previous carer has lost the card  and it would take practically a court hearing to get the parents to allow a new one to be issued

Yep, I never even had a card for our current child.  Bio mom also wants us to continue to see HIS doctor for medical care which is over an hour away...........yet, child has never seen that doctor.  The doctor was just the one assigned to them when they were living there several moves ago.

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When you're sitting with a group of women, have five kids running around calling you "Mommy", but have nothing to contribute to the pregnancy/birth anecdotes. I have more in common with "the stork brought them" explanation than one might think!

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When you're discussing with an acquaintance how tall for his age your (adopted) son is, and she asks, "Is his father tall?" and you say, "I have no idea what his father looks like." Oops.

 

 

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When you're discussing with an acquaintance how tall for his age your (adopted) son is, and she asks, "Is his father tall?" and you say, "I have no idea what his father looks like." Oops.

My husband loves to play this up.  He was at the YMCA once and someone asked about our son's mother.  He said, Oh she is deceased but I never really knew her.  Other times with other kids he just says, I never really knew their mother.

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You know you are a foster/adoptive parent when:

 

Your name is on an out of state birth certificate.......yet neither you nor dh has ever been to said state.

 

 

Or country. It's an in state birth certificate with our names  on it, but it states she was born in Seoul, S. Korea. On paper, it looks like gave birth there.

 

When you meet your child in person for the first time you're at the airport with dozens of family and friends flashing dozens of cameras and everyone who gets off the plane stops and stares to watch the whole thing.

 

You don't sleep for more than a couple of hours at a stretch for months and months and months because your traumatized child doesn't.

 

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at nervous new mommies who fret over their child's "separation anxiety" when your kid has real separation anxiety because she lost her  birth mother and her loving foster parents and moved to the other side of the world by the time she was 7 months old.

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A friend and I were recently talking and we wanted tshirts either for us or the kids that said.........We are foster parents, our family is a work in progress or We didn't make this mess, we are trying to fix it

 

or something for the child to wear.

 

Obviously we don't want to put it all out there in public but after the fits, meltdowns, 15 month old cussing at the little old lady in the grocery store, etc. It sure would be nice to have some sort of disclaimer t shirt.

A hundred times agreeing with this! I want the disclaimer t-shirt too. There is nothing like the looks I get when my kids give big smiles full of black broken nubs of teeth from baby bottle rot.

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After 5 months of living here, 11 year old foster son tonight let me put his clothes all in the dresser, sort through stuff that was too small to give to his brother, go through piles of paper, throw away trash, etc.

 

Before that he kept many of his belongings and clothes in duffle bags so he could move quickly when he got out of here.

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