In addition to the chaos with Primero and Esperanza,
multiplied by the never-ending issues with Chica Marie, added to the regular
stressors of work and life, and beyond the unfortunate accident with my mom, I
have sudden come a realization regarding baby Love Bug. His occupational
therapist (O.T.) needed me to sign off on his quarterly review paperwork and
since she was sick when we were supposed to meet last week, she came to my job.
We spoke briefly about Love Bug and as we did I began to recognize how I had
had the blinders on regarding this particular child. To me, he’s still a baby,
my baby, that sweet bundle that slept peacefully on my chest. He needed me to
much as an infant, not just in the typical ways, but in every way. He was a
needy baby. I assumed it had something to do with attaching to a mother who did
not carry him for nine months or perhaps the drugs in his system when he was
born. I assumed as he grew his neediness would lessen. I fooled myself into
believing it had. But, in speaking with his therapist I realized it has not.
Love Bug is no longer a needy baby, he is a needy toddler. And, somehow his
neediness is transforming into explosive temper tantrums when he does not get what
he wants immediately. And, as if I needed more proof of this, all of his
petulant, needy behaviors were on display at the eye doctor appointment
yesterday. Unfortunately, when I picked Love Bug up from daycare I had to rouse
him from his nap. He did not fall back asleep in the car, as I had hoped, and
so he was cranky when we got to the appointment. It all went downhill from
there. At first he was just being a typical toddler, wanting to explore the
room and try to climb on everything. But, when he was told no or redirected
from touching things he shouldn’t be touching, he would throw himself to the
ground violently and try to kick something – me, the wall, a toy, a chair. He
wasn’t satisfied until his feet inflicted some sort of damage on something. Even
after the drops were put in his eyes to dilate them and we were sent to a
playroom to wait for the final analysis, his behaviors persisted. They got
worse in fact. The room we were in had a door (thankfully) and then a wall of
glass windows looking into the waiting room, and Love Bug delighted in pounding
on the windows with both his fists and his feet. I tried to get Love Bug
interested in the toys. He threw the blocks and anything else I tried to show
him. I tried holding him, but he would slither from my lap to the floor and
resume kicking at me or pushing himself across the room on his back. After we
were done seeing the doctor we became a spectacle while trying to check out and
leave. I had too many things in my hands, my purse, our coats, the paperwork
from the doctor and Love Bug. I tried to set him at my feet, but he ran off and
I had to chase him as the receptionist was trying to talk to me to check us
out. Love Bug protested me picking him up and tried to throw himself out of my
arms. I set him down again and tried to put his jacket on him. He threw himself
to the floor and began kicking at me and howling. I heard someone say in
Spanish that he was tired. By this point, so was I. As I hastily gathered our
things (the receptionist had given up trying to talk to me and just shoved the
paperwork at me and walked away), I tried to walk out with some shred of
dignity but was never so glad to wrestle Love Bug into his car seat and be on
our way. He was simply incorrigible. His therapist described him as having an
infantile nervous system, as in his ability to regulate his behaviors is much
behind his chronological age. I worry a lot about my part in this (nurture) as
well as what part his prenatal care and genetic make-up have to do with his
behaviors (nature). Have I been raising him in a way that promotes these
behaviors? Did I indeed hold him too much, coddle him too much, try to appease
him too much thus allowing his inability to self-soothe to persist rather than
diminish? Did he not get enough of the right attention from me when he was tiny
because I was a sleep-deprived single working mom? Or is this a result of a
tumultuous existence in the womb with a biological mother stressed from the
loss of her children (Chica Marie and Mini Momma were in care for most of the
time their mom was pregnant with Love Bug) and self-medicating her mental
health issues? Will I be able to help both Love Bug and Chica Marie with the
same troubling behaviors? Will Love Bug out-grow his temper tantrums, as most
toddlers do? I keep hoping language will help ease some of Love Bug’s issues –
that if he is able to verbalize his needs or wants that perhaps he won’t be so
demanding and needy and not as quick to lose his temper. Obviously no one has
the answers to the questions I ask. Only time will tell with both Love Bug and
Chica Marie if they will become productive, happy adults or follow a path of
self-destruction as their mother seems to be doing. I hope I am helping them in
the process but I feel more like a failure than I ever feel like I’m doing
anything right.
This past Sunday marked two years since Primero moved in. I
hadn’t mentioned anything to him, given all the problems that have been going
on lately, but he did remember the date’s significance. Maybe it’s silly to
keep remembering the day, but I like to think on it because it was a happy
time. Primero was happy to be in my home and not in his previous foster home. I
don’t know if he still feels that way anymore and certainly a lot of things
have happened since that day two years ago. Primero has grown a lot from the
boy he was to the young man he is now. I’d like to think I have grown too, but
mostly I think I’ve become worse. I feel like my patience is shorter, that I
tolerate less than perhaps I did in the past. Some of that might have to do
with my change in roles, from foster parent to parent, but not all of it. Not
even most of it I’d bet. All of the drama with Esperanza and Primero has wrung
me out. I feel depleted. And I feel like I am nothing but my flaws. I fear the
brokenness has seeped into my morrow and now I too am damaged and unlike the
person I used to be or could have been. I guess it’s a good thing I’m going to
therapy.
So I did finally hear back from the county case worker
regarding the unanswered questions from the planning meeting. She did indicate
that the little ones grandmother has agreed to keep contact open and plan joint
events. She noted the grandmother seemed eager to do this, which is good. And
while the county is pursuing termination of rights for the children’s mother
sometime the end of March or April, the case worker indicated there would be
nothing new to report at court in May. Certainly an adoption seemed before the
next court date seemed out of the question. This makes me so, so sad for Love
Bug especially. He will be two the end of June. And while Chica Marie has been
in foster care longer than Love Bug, it somehow seems sadder to think he’s
spent his entire life in foster care. It’s also frustrating because the county
case worker indicated the kids mom is in specialized housing and working on
some of the steps she needs to take, so how does this not contradict their move
to terminate rights? I honestly feel bad for their mom because it seems like
the county is being duplicitous – they offer her these services using her kids
as the carrot for her to chase, knowing full well they are looking to sever
ties. The tangled web of the system. Perhaps more will be revealed in court, I
don’t know. I’ve learned how to wait a little more patiently.
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