The Mouths of Babes

One evening last week, I was working in the kitchen, and Wife and the boys were in the living room watching a video. I heard Wife ask our two-year-old, “What did you say?”

A minute later, Wife brought the boy to me as she stifled her own laughter. “I can’t do it without laughing,” she said. “You have to talk to him.” So I took him into his bedroom and asked him, “Boy, what did you say?”

“Holy Shit,” he said again with his arms extended, palms up, and shrugging his shoulders in an I-don’t-know kind of way. He said it without the least hint of guilt or mischief. I knew right then it was time to have a talk with our fourteen year old.

Ms. Hamilton

Dear Friends,

I just wanted to let everyone know that Ms. Hamilton's daughter called today to tell us that Ms. Hamilton died this morning about 11AM. She was at home with her children and her grandchildren who were there to comfort her and say goodbye. I have spoken with Mr. Bossman, and he will be sending flowers on behalf of the students and staff of the district. The date and time of the memorial service are still to be determined.

Dear Colleagues

As many of you already know, our fellow teacher, Ms. Hamilton, has been diagnosed with a terminal illness and will not be returning to the classroom. She is in the process of returning to her home state to be with her family there. However, she has been held up in town longer than expected due to the worsening of her condition. She is at the hospital now and will be there through the weekend and probably into next week. I wanted to let everyone know about this now so that - if any one of you are going to be in town over the weekend - you might have the chance to visit her. I know that she would like a visit or a phone call from you.

Thank you, friends.

The News Was Not Good at All

This was a day being anticipated with dread. Two weeks ago, Ms Hamilton, my teacher partner, went into town for some medical tests. She was sent home without finding out the results. Her doctor simply told her that he’d call in the middle of the next week to tell her what they found. When the doctor called on Wednesday, he told her that she had small cell lung cancer. He scheduled her to come back for another appointment one week and a day later to discuss the diagnosis and the prognosis. Today was that day.

Since Ms Hamilton doesn’t have anyone here in the state to help her, Wifey offered to go to Ms Hamilton’s appointment with her. They were with the doctor for several hours, and the news was not good at all. The median life expectancy for stage four lung cancer with treatment is eight to nine months.

It was an emotional time, of course, for Ms Hamilton but also for Wifey. It is hard to hear that kind of news and to suddenly be faced with the reality and gravity of the situation. There is no way to imagine what it must be like to get such news. I am glad that Wifey was able to be there with her during that difficult time. There are, no doubt, more difficult times ahead.

It is certainly the case that Wifey and I have had conflicting emotions about Ms Hamilton and about having her as a partner in this place. It has been abundantly clear that she is not a good fit for this teaching assignment and that she is very unhappy here. I think we have all been looking for solutions to that problem. But there suddenly seems to be no sense in finding fault with her outlook on life or her approach with children. There is so much with which to find fault, but all of that is suddenly rendered moot. The love and compassion for another human being overshadows any other consideration at a time like that.

And I am once again marveling at our time here in this tiny town. Our time here will leave an indelible mark on our lives and will certainly change the course of a few others’ lives as well. If we had not come here, what would have become of Jme? No one had any positive options left for her, and I have to believe the course of her live is forever changed. What would Ms Hamilton have done had we not been here? Without close family of her own, we are closer to her than probably anyone else. It has been a good thing (and often a chore, without a doubt) to be available to serve a (in the case literally) neighbor.

And even with the new information that today has brought, we still do not know what the next season will bring.

An Update

As I looked back over some previous posts, it occurred to me that I’ve not really written a satisfactory conclusion to the August 11th post. And so here, briefly, is how all of that turned out:

Jme was grounded for two weeks. During that time we talked about the situation a number of times as a family. We talked about what she did and why, and what else she could do when she has those same feelings again. We believe that she was earnestly contrite about her bad choices. She realized that we cared a lot about her and by extension, cared about what does and how she spends her time. She apologized to both of us individually, and she did all of those things we asked her to do to make amends.

Many people have left Jme. It’s been a major theme in her life. I’ve mentioned before that there are not a lot of options for friends in our tiny town. And in fact there has been pretty much only one other teenager that we have approved of Jme spending time with: a great kid and another of my students named Juniper. She and Jme have been good friends and have spent a good deal of time together. Juniper has had a really tough home life for a number of years, and she recently found a way out and jumped at it. She went to live with an older sister who lives hundreds of miles away and started to go to school in that town. We hear she’s doing really well.

But Jme wasn’t at all happy to see her go. In fact, the week that Juniper announced she was leaving, Jme immediately dismissed her, didn’t want to spend any time with her, and refused even to say goodbye. Instead, Jme sought out the person we’d least approve of her spending time with. She made the most self-destructive choice for a friend that she could. And so Ave became a constant companion.

On a side note, Ave has been in enough trouble here that she has been – pretty literally – run out of town. She no longer attends our school or lives in our community.

Jme has been with us for almost six months now. In that time there have been only two incidents of “misbehavior” that we have had to work through with her. In all, she has been remarkable. She is responsible with the boys and with her chores at home. She’s fun and good natured most of the time. There are moody episodes, but we seen them blow in and blow out so fast that we no longer pay much attention to them. In all, she’s really warm, friendly, funny and responsible. Sometimes I wish we could recalibrate her values meter, but we’re glad she’s part of our (ever expanding) family.

In Other News...

Wifey woke up earlier than me this morning. Unusuall for a Saturday. She and Jme are driving to town today for some town time. Wifey also took a pregnancy test this morning that peed positive. A few clicks of the mouse determined the due date to be on or about Friday, June 27th. Let's hear it for summer birthdays!

Dear Mr. Bossman

All of the issues that I discussed with you at our last meeting still exist. Ms Hamilton has not indicated that she is resigning, however the classroom management issues in her classroom, her overall enjoyment of teaching her students, and the students' experience in class are all at a very low level. There are wailing and tears coming from either the teacher, the teacher's aide, or the students every day. I don't think I'm being overly dramatic to call it a crisis level. Quite simply, I do not think that we will make it to the end of the school year with 1. our staff intact and 2. the students having experienced a year's academic/social growth.

Ms Hamilton and I have always and continue to get along well professionally and personally. I am not venting or lobbying for her removal, but I am concerned about her mental/emotional/physical health, I am concerned about the teacher's aide in her class, and I am very concerned for our elementary students. She is confused about how to proceed and feels very bad about causing trouble for me or whomever.

I would like some help from you or your staff with some intervention strategies to help Ms Hamilton be successful. Perhaps some professional development in the area of classroom management would help. Perhaps some mentoring from someone such as the New Teacher Mentoring Project (I know they only take first and second-year teachers, but maybe if some special case was pled...), or some other expertly qualified elementary teacher would help. Any other ideas you might have for how to support Ms Hamilton are needed.

On a related note, Ms Hamilton has asked me to change kindergarten from the current full day to a half day to alleviate some of her load. I think it should be a full day, and I am going to make some direct suggestions about how to organize the classroom(s) and utilize the classroom aide to help make the experience better for everyone. Hopefully this will work.

Please advise.

Dear Ms Hamilton

I know you have had a rough start to the year, and the kids have been particularly difficult to manage and relate to. Friday was a particularly bad day, and though I was reluctant, I felt I had to go into your classroom to intervene between you and the kids. I hesitated so strongly to do this because I didn't want to overstep my bounds in your classroom, but I was concerned for both you and the kids. You told me that day - clearly and emphatically - that you were resigning as of that day. You have since softened from this statement, but I am left wondering if we will all make it successfully to the end of the year.

Some of the conditions that contributed to the situation on Friday have existed for a while, and I know you experienced some of these problems at times last year. Since it is so early in the year, I am growing more worried about what the rest of the year has in store. I am concerned for you personally and your mental, emotional, and physical health.

You and I get along well personally. I know how important it is that you and I communicate well and daily, and that we be on the same page regarding what we're doing here in the school. I have always responded to comments of concern that have been brought to me about you with unconditional support. I have never wanted to undermine your standing with students or parents. I don't want you to think that I am starting some backdoor campaign for your ouster, but I feel I have a responsibility to make others aware of this situation rather than pretend there's no problem.

I think we should discuss this with Mr. Bossman this week, but I wanted to discuss it with you first so that you are aware and know that I am not reaching out to him behind your back. I would like your permission to talk to him about this. What do you think?

Swiftest End

There are two teachers in our small school: myself and another woman named Ms Hamilton. She is a single, four-time divorcee in her late fifties who teaches in the primary grades. She is a self-described hermit, but she is also lonely. She doesn’t like to be around people but is saddened by being alone. She has dealt with a number of significant health related issues in the last year. I’ve come to wonder if her illnesses are not a Munchausen-ish affectation. She has also suffered episodes of severe depression and mania, both of which were very real.

In the middle of last winter, Ms Hamilton acquired two cats from the animal shelter in the city to assuage her loneliness and depression. It was an odd choice, I thought at the time, because she had never had cats before and so wasn’t really a cat person. But whatever. If they gave her something to come home to and talk to, well then that’d be better for all of us.

Things were fine for a while until she decided that two cats was too much. One of the cats was particularly animated, and so she decided it had to go. Though it was her choice, she was apparently all broken up about it. She said she couldn’t bring herself to actually take it back to the pound and drop it off, so she asked me if I would do it. Sure, I said. Whatever. It’s a cat, and not my cat, so why should I care, right? So on my next trip to town, I dropped it at the pound like so much trash at the dump.

Then one night recently, as I left work, Ms Hamilton told me, “[Cat’s name] is going away. Maybe he’s already gone.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “You don’t know if it’s gone or not? Are you having someone put it down?” She began to cry and said she didn’t want to talk about it. I took that as a yes and immediately went home and called the person she had asked to do the deed. I didn’t really care about this cat, but all things considered, I figured I could fix up a little something under the stairs and keep it as an outside cat. Too late, though. He told me he’d shot it and watched it run off into the woods to die. I dunno. That really pissed me off. This was the second cat she had had someone else bump off for her.

The next morning morning, Ms Hamilton walked in my office. She was distraught and – choking through tears – said that she needed my help. She said that all she had asked of the guy who was supposed to put the cat down was that it be quick. But as she opened her door that morning to come to work, she found her cat just outside her door, meowling to be let in. The bullet had gone clean through, and the cat was bleeding out both sides. She let him in and rushed out of the house. The kind of help she needed was clear.

A few minutes later, my old truck puttered and jostled as I drove slowly over the narrow trail along the river while listening to Morning Edition playing on the radio. Our little town is eerily quiet that early in the morning, and imagining the great bang I was about to make made me tight inside. After less than a mile, I stopped and unzipped the cat’s carrier just enough for its head to poke through. I tied the end of a small rope into a slip knot, slid it over the cat’s neck and pulled it tight. Dragging the cat out of the carrier and over to the nearest tree, I tied the other end of the rope into a loop around the tree’s trunk and, as I cinched it, pulled the cat closer and closer until his check was resting firmly against the tree.

A moment later I stood in the cool of the morning, waiting for that last minute of life to drain away. It’s a hard minute to witness, for even though I placed the bullet at the base of the back of the head to ensure the surest and swiftest end, the animal still struggled on its side and kicked with both back legs, digging a bare spot into the dark earth under the tree.

Another few moments later, and I was back at the school, greeting the children as they came in from the bus. I didn’t see her then and didn’t seek her out. I couldn’t bring myself to offer comfort to the one who had led me to such violence so early in the morning.

High

Jme enjoys making short digital films. She had a cheap little video camera that did this, and she has collected hundreds of short clips of people around her doing whatever. Her toy camera broke a couple of months ago, and so she has been using our digital video camera, recording onto the memory card and downloading to her computer.

Jme came back from her travels on Thursday. She’d been gone for two weeks, and that’s a long time for her to be gone, given the tenuous state of our new family. She’s already been fourteen years raising herself. She doesn’t need to be on her own any more. She had been staying with her cousin in town and going to the fair. While she was gone we cringed whenever we wondered how she was or what she was up to.

Almost as soon as she was home, one of Jme’s “friends” named Ave came over. Ave has been here in the bush all summer, but she wasn’t in our school last year so we don’t know her that well. Everything we have been told is that she is trouble, so we weren’t exactly thrilled to see her show up at our door. Nonetheless, they hung out for the afternoon.

After dinner, Wifey and I put the boys for bed for the night and went over to a neighbor’s house to visit for a while. We told Jme where we’d be and told her that her only responsibility was to grab the boys in case there was a fire. We left her and Ave in the house while we were out. When we got back an hour and a half later, the first thing we noticed was how much perfume was in the room. They had dosed themselves up. Jme asked if she could spend the night over at Ave’s house. Wifey said no, that this was her first night home after two weeks away, and that she didn’t want Jme to stay out another night. Jme was pissed and sullen the rest of the night. She hardly said a word.

On Friday, Ave came back over again and they hung out together for most of the afternoon. Jme asked if Ave could stay overnight at our house. Wifey agreed. They spent that night in Jme’s room with the door closed. They only came out to get more snacks, and they ate something like an full Sam’s sized box of those chewy cookie granola bars. We were like, “What the heck?”

Today after they got up, sometime after noon, they asked to go out to Ave’s house for the afternoon and Wifey drove them out there and dropped them off. After Wifey returned home again, she picked up our video camera that Jme has been using. Wifey started to peruse the video clips to see what the girls had been filming. As it turns out, there was a lengthy clip of the two of them in Jme’s room, getting high, dangling a baggie of weed in front of the camera, and making plans to go over to Ave’s house later and smoke more. Wifey called me over to show me. We sat and watched the clip together several times over in disbelief and disappointment. As we began to recall the two previous day, we realized she and Ave got high in our house on Thursday evening while we were out, while she was watching our boys. They got high again Friday afternoon before they came in for the night. I immediately drove out to pick her up again and bring her back home.

This evening, we sat her down for a talk. We were at a bit of a loss and not sure how to approach her. She was pretty clammed up. She couldn’t ever bring herself to show any real remorse or to apologize. She wouldn’t acknowledge that she’d done anything wrong. Wifey did a great job during this confrontation. She told Jme how disappointed we were, but how much we loved her, cared about her, and expected so much better for her.

We don’t have much experience with “grounding” a kid for punishment. More than anything, we just want to make sure she is safe from the influences of others and from her own poor choices. She’s grounded all right, and we’re wondering if she will ever be “un-grounded” again. Can we ground her ‘til she’s twenty-one? Until Jme can find something to say about this, until she can apologize, until she can earn some trust back, she has lost those freedoms she has enjoyed so far.

Things Have Gone So Well

This summer has been so full, particularly with company. Jme took her two-week art class at the university where we stayed, along with a couple of other girls we know who are about her same age, and we think she really enjoyed the experience. Almost as soon as her class was over, we had nearly a month of continuous company that kept us busy and out of our bush community. Which was a good thing. And throughout all of it, She did great. We know that most of the time she wasn’t doing what she might have wanted, but she was a really good sport the whole time.

Her cousin from town invited her to go with her family on a fishing trip for halibut for a week on the coast and then spend a second week in town for the fair. We were hesitant, but finally decided that extending to her this much trust and freedom would be a good reward for sticking with us all summer. But before we let her go (we also suspect she has this quasi-boyfriend/love interest in her cousin's neighborhood) we also had a talk about some things. While we were driving home from town, we had a lighthearted, quiz show style talk about a number of things. I asked her (and this is easier to do when Wifey and I are up front staring out to the road ahead and she is in the backseat being horribly embarrassed) to name three forms of birth control (we prefaced this little round of quizzes with the very clear understanding that she wouldn't need this information until well into her twenties because we expected she wouldn't be having sex of any kind (and we listed the various kinds, and yes they are all sex) until at least then). When she couldn't (or was too embarrassed) to name even one, I asked Wifey, who was able to supply the missing info. We repeated this process with three STD's, and questions and answers about drinking and drug use (she didn't thing that smoking a little weed was considered drug use). In the end we were all laughing and being silly, but she was finally able to repeat back the info we had asked about.

And so we’re back to just us for a little while. It feels weird. It’s very quiet. I had no idea how much noise, activity, energy, company, and phone calls would come with a teenager.

More About Us, Less About Her

Wifey and I have some friends whose son was diagnosed with Autism this past year. The mother of this child has been writing about her experience as a way of processing the experience for herself and to share her experience with others who might be going through something similar.

In the same way, I intend for this blog to be about (among other things) our journey and our struggles as the sudden parents of a teenaged foster child. We want those few of you who know us to share an insight into our lives, struggles and successes. We know that you care about us, will respect Jme and her privacy, and will commiserate or celebrate with us as occasion arises.

Having said that, I don’t want Jme’s missteps, struggles or misfortune to be exploited for my or anyone else’s entertainment. Wifey and I have thought and talked a lot about how much we should share here. In the end we feel that this is what we might share with any of you over a cup of coffee if we could. I hope we are sharing our own lives while respecting her privacy. Her mistakes, her history and her growing up should be her own.

Shoplifting

Last Friday (a week ago today) we drove in to town for a month-long stint in our summer home at the University on the hill. Jme is taking a two-week art class at the University. Coincidentally, we have some other friends with a teenaged daughter who is taking the same art class along with a couple of her friends. They are all staying with us for the two week duration of the class, and so we have a full house: Wifey and I, the boys, Jme, Ms. GM and her daughter, and two other teenaged girls. It has been maybe a little awkward integrating such a diverse group, but for the most part everyone has been fine with each other, and we’re glad to have Jme spending time with some different and positive kids her own age.

On Sunday, Jme and the other girls wanted to go shopping at Wal-Mart. Of course we didn’t think a thing about it because she was going with Ms. GM and her girls. But apparently during that trip, Jme was shoplifting cosmetics and even offered to pick up some items for the other girls.

That afternoon, Jme called up one of her other friends in town and asked to go out for the evening. Wifey said no, that it was late and that her class started at eight the next morning. Jme stormed up to her room and cried for most of the evening. At that time, we couldn’t understand why. Wifey went up and talked to her, but Jme wouldn’t say anything. All the next day she was distant from all of us and walked around in a cloud of self-isolated grumble. As Wifey puzzled aloud about what was going on, Ms. GM finally shared what her girls said had happened.

After we found out, we discussed how best to address the situation. We recognized that this was no grey issue; it wasn’t like using profanity when we preferred she didn’t, or questionable clothing choices. We really wanted to confront her immediately and deal with it openly. At the same time, however, we didn’t want her to think that the girls she was with were simply tattletales who could not be trusted. We wanted to foster Jme’s budding relationship with those girls. So we watched and waited for an opportunity to address this with her.

On Wednesday morning, Jme left all of her newly acquired cosmetics laid out nicely on the edge of her bed before she went to class. It was as if she wanted to be caught. And it was all the opportunity we needed to confront her. Wifey and I talked it over extensively and planned our response. After her class, we sat down with her and expressed how seriously we took the situation and how disappointed we were with what she had done. We explained that she had broken the law, broken our trust, and broken her privileges and future freedoms. We also explained that this brokenness could be repaired and rebuilt over time. We told her that we’d all return to Wal Mart, pay for the merchandise out of her allowance, face whatever consequences Wal Mart mandated, and that she wouldn’t be allowed to go out on her own or with her friends any time soon. Our time at Wal Mart went really well. We talked to the store manager who treated the whole situation pretty seriously, and in the end Jme and Wifey were hugging and in tears. Jme had been saving her allowance for a pet tortoise and would have had enough to get it by today. This has set her back a few weeks, which was another good consequence. As soon as it was over, Jme’s four-day bad mood fog finally lifted, and she was very upbeat. She was talkative and personable, and has seemed to be in a great mood ever since.

Looking back on the whole situation, we feel pretty strongly that Jme began this shoplifting spree with the intention of getting caught. Maybe she wanted to get kicked out. Maybe she wanted to precipitate the rejection that she believed was inevitably coming. But much like the approach that Wifey and I have taken with our marriage, we aren’t even considering “giving her back” or in any way changing our minds. Which is what we have explained to her. These are not options that we could or would ever exercise in the future. Hopefully she understands that a little more now, but we’d be naïve to think that other problems and similar occurrences are not in our future. But for now, everyone feels good. We feel like we’ve overcome a parenting hurdle, and she’s been in a good mood for a remarkable three days now! This week has been a great picture of the self destructive nature of our sin that isolates us from God and the way that isolation and broken relationship can be overcome and can be made even stronger through Christ.

Where Are We?

Where are we? What kind of place is this? We’ve asked ourselves this question repeatedly over the last few weeks. Unique geography and pristine landscape aside, this community has to be one of the more twisted, dysfunctional places around with an intractable cycle of abuse of self and others. It is unbelievable.

Alcoholism. Drug abuse. Poverty. Child abuse. Spousal abuse. Rape. Incest. Suicide. Reckless self destructive behavior. Murder. Generations of fetal alcohol syndrome. The revocation of parental rights. Despair. Every family. Every house. Every person.

Recent Example #1

A few nights ago, I was away from home. Wifey was home, and Jme had a friend spend the night. We’ll call her S. Wifey was helping Jme and S put highlights in their hair. Before doing this though, Wifey talked to S’s grandmother to get permission to apply said highlights. Wifey had to call the grandmother because S had been taken away from the mother by Child Protective Services (CPS), and S was now in the grandmother’s custody. At some point in the evening, S’s mother found out that she was over at our house and called our house to talk to S. She was drunk and belligerent, and when she found out about the highlights, she flipped out and asked to talk to Wifey. Then she proceeded to verbally harass Wifey and threaten to call CPS on Wifey because she was putting highlights in S’s hair. Irrational? A little. Was Wifey rattled? Yes.

Recent Example # 2

Jme’s has a half sister with two children of her own. We’ll call her A. She is also a chronic inebriate, which seems much more egregious to me because she herself is young and has two young children. The oldest of these is nine. The youngest is a two-month old. Two nights ago, A calls Wifey at past midnight to ask her if she has any Tylenol. A said that the two month old baby had a fever and was crying, and that she needed Tylenol for the baby. Wifey went over there with a thermometer to confirm the baby’s temperature. While taking the temperature, the baby was crying of course, because what two month old understand or likes getting his temperature taken. This didn’t phase Wifey, but A kept telling the baby to “shut up,” and saying, “he’s such a brat!” Did I mention that this is a two-month old? Wifey found no fever, and in her arms the baby stopped crying, but A insisted that the baby was sick and that she needed the Tylenol. Because it’s hard to say no to a mother with a sick baby, Wifey left the Tylenol. She found out today that A has been getting Tylenol from the local clinic every few days, and it is suspected that she is giving the baby high nightly doses to get the baby to sleep through the night.

Recent Example # 3:

I mentioned above that A has a nine-year-old in addition to the baby. We’ll call her C. She went with us on our last trip to town. We were glad to have her with us because she is this sweet, cute kid, and Wifey was sure that this was the first trip to town that C had been on in a while, and the first time in a while that she had had a break from taking care of her newborn brother. Yup… taking care of her newborn brother throughout the night. So we took C to town with us and she had a great time. She was clean, well fed, safe and entertained. She was allowed to be a kid.

When we came back to the village again, there was a gathering going on at A’s house, and she was there, drinking of course. We stopped in to exchange pleasantries (Ahem!). A said something to Jme that set her off. She said something to C that was a verbal slap, and when Wifey asked her if she wanted us to leave C there with her or let her get her things and we’d bring her home in a bit, A said something like “Take her, she’s having more fun with you anyway!” She’s a real charmer.

About fifteen minutes later, I was unloading everything when a pickup pulls up, and A hollers for her kid. She slurred something about, “I didn’t ask you to do all this.” I assured her that it was our pleasure.

Yesterday, Wifey went over to A’s house to deliver some clothes that C had left with us and that Wifey had washed. In the brief time there, Wifey noticed that C had a fading black eye on her right side, and that she would hardly talk to Wifey. It’s so hard to imagine that anyone would do such a thing that sometimes it’s hard to believe you really saw what you thought you saw. It must have been a mistake. But today, Wifey ran into C again around town. Again, the black eye was there. Again, C wouldn’t talk to Wifey.

And we want to be very careful about jumping to conclusions and wrongfully accusing, but it isn’t hard to put things together here. It was not a fresh black eye, but had to be a few days old. We only returned from town a few days ago, so it likely happened on the night we got back. Was C a little too excited about what a good time she’d had? Did she try to tell her mom about the fun things she’d done? Did she get beat because she’d been with us? Damn.

We called Child Protective Services today.

Dilemma

Last summer, Jme and her dad left the midwestern state they had been living in for a number of years to return to this part of the country. We don’t know why. Their first stop was a small community about 15 hours south of here. The plan was to settle there, and so that is where they left the bulk of their belongings. Then they came to this community for what was meant to be a visit of a couple of weeks. That two weeks devolved into this whole past year. Consequently, Jme doesn’t have much in the way of personal effects. It is still all down in that small community that was their original destination.

Since she’s been with us, we have talked about driving her down there to see her dad and to collect her things to bring back with us. We had tentatively planned to do that this coming week. She has had mixed feeling about doing this, but we think she’s also been getting excited.

During the two phone conversations Wifey and I have had with her dad, he has stated his intention to regain custody of her. As I’ve written before, we actively support the restoration of this family, but not until certain safeguards are in place. But based on those conversations, I’ve been thinking a lot about this upcoming trip and running through all of the possible scenarios. What I don’t want to happen is for me to deliver her all the way down there and then have her dad try to keep her there. That would be such a bad situation. Of course I wouldn’t just let that happen. But I wouldn’t want to put Jme in the position of having to chose between him and me. And while I’ve already thought about how much force I’m prepared to use while in my own home, I don’t know what level of force I’d be prepared to use standing in someone else’s home.

Today, Jme called her dad to see if this would be a good week to come down and get her things. The phone call started well but ended with Jme in tears. Hours later, Jme confided in Wifey some of the dilemma Jme was facing. She said that her dad said that if she comes down there, he wants her to stay. [Ding, ding. Bell goes off in my head: Trip cancelled; we’re not going anytime soon.] Jme feels like she has to choose whether or not to return to her dad. She loves and misses him, but also recognizes that his life is not in order right now. She thinks maybe she should spend the summers with him and stay with us during the school year, or maybe move back in with him when she turns sixteen. She has said that she doesn’t think being with us is a permanent situation; that it can’t be. We’ve assured her that we’d love to have her with us from now on. She says she has to return to her dad because he needs her. But she is also afraid of the conditions that have previously existed. She is happy and comfortable here, and so she is torn. Fortunately, she is reaching out to Wifey for some advice and direction. We pray that we can give the wise counsel she needs.

Uneasy Caution

This has been a pivotal couple of days for us. All things considered, things have been going really, really well. Jme has been on her best behavior. She has been very conscientious about checking in on time or early every time she has been given permission to go somewhere or do something. Wifey has been doing a lot of overtime mothering of Jme. It’s been good, as we feel Jme hasn’t been really mothered – really taken care of – in a long time, if ever. And Wifey is very good at making life comfortable for everyone around her. It is her great gift. And so, Wifey and Jme have been getting along really well so far. Wifey is a fresh face for Jme, a fresh start. Wifey is easy to be around, comforting, easy to talk to, and easy to love. She’s non threatening. She’s fun. Who doesn’t like Wifey?

The relationship between Jme and me, however, is tenuous at best. For this entire past school year, I haven’t really known her story. All I have seen is her behavior in school, which has been abysmal. Her academic effort has been poor, and she completely shut down whenever I attempted to give her any individual attention. She has been completely unteachable. For some reason math in particular has been an area where she turns off the minute I come around. But I have always understood that her actions were not about anything I am or did, but were more a product of whatever was going on in her life outside of school. I could see through her behavior to this great, funny, valuable, loveable person who was really hurting through some crappy circumstances.

On Tuesday, we attempted to do math again. It was perhaps too soon. As soon as things got difficult, she shut down again. It was suddenly back to the same old Jme. And that kind of tainted things for the evening. She didn’t want to be anywhere around me. And as much as I understand it, and know better, it still hurts my feelings. I feel rejected while Wifey is adored. I’m the bad guy while Wifey is more fun than Mary Poppins.

And so it has been with a kind of uneasy caution that Jme and I have been relating to each other since she came to be with us. Or avoiding each other. Wifey goes in to Jme’s room every night and says, “Goodnight. I’m glad you are here. I love you.” And I think that’s great. Jme needs to hear that. Every night. I generally tell my students at the end of every school day, “Be good. Be safe. I love y’all” for the same reasons. I, however, have not wanted Jme to feel like I am crowding her or pressuring her. I say goodnight from across the room, and I can feel her inner eyes rolling.

On Wednesday, we drove in to the City for Jme’s counseling appointment. Jme and the boys rode with Wifey, while I drove another vehicle. On the drive, Wifey and Jme were talking about a number of things, including me. At one point in the conversation, Jme pulls out her laptop and reads aloud from a journal entry she wrote shortly after her first failed attempt at the DMV. Jme wrote about me and about her dad and the fact that I remind her of her dad – conjuring both the good and the bad associations. Wifey told me that it sounded like Jme sincerely cared about me and was glad to be living with us. It was good to hear, but I also don’t know what to do with that because it is so very far from how she acts toward me.

I love Jme because she is a good kid, and because Wifey and I have made the decision to love her. Her moods or her rejection of me or of us will not make that love go away. I tell myself that I am the adult who is in control of his emotions; she is a child who cannot control hers. I am not doing this so that she will like me; we’re doing it because we have the compassion and the ability to meet this need. If we had raised a fourteen year old “from scratch,” we’d be caring more about what is good for our child than about how much our child likes us for what we were doing. And so it must be for Jme.

She took her driver’s test again yesterday and failed. She had a really bad afternoon and got moody and sullen. Wifey and I worried about this for a while. We wondered if it was something we had done; if she was suddenly unhappy living with us. But as Wifey began to mentally recount the day, we think it was simply a series of other minor disappointments that built up. We don’t yet have a baseline to gauge what is an expression of serious problems and what is well within the normal operating range of an overly dramatic and hormonal fourteen year old girl.

Dirt Roads

A number of things spring to our minds when we consider the whole situation with MJ (see previous post). First, thank God Jme wasn’t with MJ during his all night drinking binge that ended with a roll over that could easily have been fatal for the driver or any passengers. (MJ was fine by the way.)

Second, the whole issue of boys is one I had no idea we’d be even thinking about for the foreseeable future. I know the protective tendency of fathers of daughters is legendary, and fathers of daughters might object to counting me among their number, but I love Jme and want her to be successful in life as any father does, and I am abundantly confident that she does not need to be with MJ for a day, much less any longer. That fact is, there are no. males. here. period. that we could possibly approve of her spending any romantic energies on. It’s disconcerting to me that she could be aware of his excessively irresponsible behavior and still want anything to do with him. But she does. Eegad.

Third and finally, this town is no place to raise kids school aged or older. Living in the bush has been a wonderful experience for us, and we feel that is has been nothing but positive for Sonny Jim. He has experienced some really amazing things, but we’ve always thought that by the time he is ready for kindergarten or first grade, we’d surely be closer to the city. I’d never raise a teenager here. And yet here we are. The peer groups here are not a fertile field for cultivating healthy friendships. I can go down the list of teenagers in my head, and there is only a small percentage (a small percentage of a small number is a very small number) that I don’t mind Jme spending time with. There is truly very little to do here for teenagers. The only thing to do is go over to someone’s house to hang out, completely unsupervised for hours at a time. I read another blogger recently who was recounting his experiences as a rural high school student in a town with nothing to do on a Friday night but drive down empty dirt roads and get loaded. He wrote about how neither he nor his friends would ever have admitted it at the time, but that it was incredibly depressing to have nothing better to do on a Friday night that driving down empty dirt roads and getting loaded. That is exactly where I feel like the teenagers in this town are.

Wifey has talked about moving out of the bush and back to the city. The idea has rapidly grown in appeal over the past couple of weeks, but I don’t think there is any way we can manage a move and a job change this summer. So we’re hunkering down for the year to come.

MJ

We got back from the city on Monday mid evening – a week ago tomorrow. Within about an hour of our arrival, MJ, a local boy here in the bush for the summer, must have been able to sense Jme’s presence or smelled the pheromones on the wind or whatever. He showed up pretty quickly. But he didn’t exactly come knock on the door. As I was sitting in the living room reading, I heard a truck pull up our driveway. And it isn’t as if we get a lot of traffic through our drive. I looked out the window to see MJ’s truck. He stopped, looked toward the house for a minute but only saw me standing in the living room window. I guess I wasn’t who he was looking for, because as soon as he saw me, he jumped back in his truck and peeled away. The happened two more times, each about thirty minutes apart. Jme tells us that she doesn’t have any interest in MJ because he drinks and smokes pot, but we can see through that pretty easily. We went to bed uneasily, knowing that MJ was out and about. But as Wifey and I have reminded each other numerous times, Jme hasn’t yet given us any reason not to totally trust her.

The next morning, BillyBoy woke up at about 7:20, and I carried him into the kitchen to make a bottle. As I turned the corner, I heard voices including a deep male voice coming from Jme’s room. As I walked into her room, she was standing on her bed looking out her window, talking to MJ through the open window. This wasn’t good. I stood at the dinning room window until he looked up and saw me, causing him to slink away with a muttered “fuck.” After he left, I sat on the couch and fed the bottle to BillyBoy. After a short couple of minutes, Jme came in and asked if she could go out for a walk. Something told me that MJ wasn’t the early riser type, and that he had almost certainly been up all night. I said no, that it was too early to go out, and she went back to her room.

Around noon I was out and about when I heard that MJ had been air-ambulanced to the city for injuries sustained when he rolled his vehicle on the road through town sometime during the wee hours of the night. He was apparently very intoxicated. As damaged as his truck was, it was still drivable, and he drove it around behind the new school in an attempt to hide it. Now, I’m kind of putting things together here, but it appears that after he rolled his vehicle, he came to Jme’s window to tell her about it, and that when she wanted to go outside she wanted to go see the damage. I hope I’m wrong about that one.

To be continued tomorrow…

The DMV

Since we were spending some time in the city this summer, we told Jme that we’d take her to get her driver’s permit. She’s fourteen, and what fourteen year old wouldn’t be excited about that, right? So we went by the DMV on Friday to pick up a study guide and planned to return to take the test on Monday.

It was delightful to see her and Wifey studying together over the weekend. And to see her getting every question right. We talked about driving laws all weekend, and quizzed her about traffic signs and situations as we drove around town. It was good to see her being successful, and I knew – and I told her – that she’d rock this test. She was obviously excited.

So today was the big day. We got up early so that she and I could go to the DMV and have her take the test for her learner’s permit. But even as she came down the stairs for the first time that morning, I could tell she was not in a good place in her head. She was quiet and sullen. She reeked of foul mood. I chalked it up to being early in the day and kept a steady course forward.

When we arrived at the DMV there was, of course, a long line. She immediately went over to a chair and flopped down. I (as cheerily as I could) told her it was her license, she should stand in line for herself. She loved that. She made the comment while waiting that she was going to fail because she was a loser. I of course told her she was going to pass because she had worked hard and was prepared. She was eventually given a number and assigned a computer kiosk to take the test. I watched from across the room and sent her all of the “you can do it!” vibes I could muster. I’m understanding more and more about what it means to be a parent wanting your kids to succeed.

When it was over, she said that she’d failed. She’d missed the first five questions in a row, at which point the computerized test ended. I was surprised (and in retrospect, not so surprised) that she didn’t pass. But not passing is not a big deal. I failed my test the first time. I tried to talk to her in the car on the way home. I asked her if she remember what the test had asked about. She said that one question asked her what a stop sign meant. She said she read the choices too fast and got it wrong. I knew that wasn’t the case.

When we got home, she grabbed her computer and disappeared up the stairs and into her room. I figured we’d give her some space, so the boys and I went outside to play. Stephanie eventually talked to her and (after a prolonged guessing game) finally got the story: Jme felt that it should be her dad taking her to get her driver’s permit, and she was mad at him for not being there now. Mad enough to fail on purpose, just to show him. Just as she had done in school all year.

We’re back in the bush today, and the bush has it’s own set of challenges, but that will have to wait until the next post.

Decide Now

When we told her about Jme coming to live with us, our good friend C.P. made the comment that raising a teenager is a whole other volume in the encyclopedia of parenting. She is exactly right. For the past two years, we’ve been looking to What to Expect When You’re Expecting and Healthy Sleeping Habits, etc. for info on our two newborns. I have no doubt that had we raised her from birth and experienced the incremental growth of our own parenting experience, Wifey and I would be on the same page regarding discipline and life with a teenager as we are on the same page regarding most things. We would have had fourteen years to come to consensus one small event or situation at a time. Now with Jme, however, we are having to make all of those decisions and take those positions all right now.

And it’s becoming apparent that Wifey and I have different ideas about what is right for a fourteen year old. Not different ideas about the fundamentals of life, but about the daily nuts and bolts like how often friends can sleep over, whether she can be dropped off at the movies, and who she can and cannot hang out with. It’s obvious that as we look for a guide to what a fourteen year old girl can do, Wifey and I both both look back to our own experiences as teenagers and what we did or were allowed to do when we were her age. And what she and I did was very different.

We also understand that Jme is coming from a position of having very little in the way of boundaries, and that those whom she calls friends also have had very little in the way of boundaries. It’s gonna be culture shock to suddenly have to answer to two adults who want to know where she is going to be, for how long, with whom, and doing what for every minute of the day. One thing at a time, I suppose, but we gotta figure this thing out.

So this post is the product of some ongoing whispers between Wifey and I as we get our game plan ready. Really, though, Jme has been great. She is very conscientious, and it is pretty obvious that she is trying really hard to do the right thing while she is with us. And we appreciate her effort.

Disneyland

We were up 'til past one a.m. last night. Getting up this morning was pretty tough. We meant to be pulling out by nine a.m., but didn't quite make it. I made up for that on the road, though. Two hours and fifteen minutes from home to the corner, which is what we reckon as "there." We were rockin'. First stop Wendy's, then to Jme's appointment. It is a bea-u-ti-ful day out, and so I played in the playground with Sonny Jim and Billy Boy while Wifey went in to the appointment with Jme. They told me it'd be about 45 minutes, so I was suprised when they came out in about fifteen minutes. Wifey told me that they asked Jme to rank her current feelings on a scale of one (wanting to jump off a bridge and into the river) to ten (like being at Disneyland). Jme smiled and said ten. They asked her if she was suicidal. She said no. And that's about it. No medication recommended at this time.

From there we went to move in to our new summer apartment at the university on the hill. This is our third summer here in family housing. With all of the shady trees and real wood panneling on the exterior, this place feels like camp. It is good. This is our first time without an impending baby. But hey, with Jme, this is our third summer, third child. Next summer our fourth summer with our fourth child? Could be!

Jme's Parents

We have been concerned about making sure Jme has access to her family. We don't want to isolate her. We want her to have those connections with her family and friends.

Wifey walked over to Jme's mother's house today to try to get Jme's original birth certificate. Her mother didn't have a copy, but it did give Wifey and Jme's mom an opportunity to talk about Jme. I've kind of marvelled at the fact that Jme's mother hasn't said anything to us about having her daughter live with us. We've seen her several times. We know that she know's Jme is staying with us, but she hasn't acknowledged it. Today, however, she finally asked Wifey how Jme is doing. Wifey told her that Jme is doing well, and told her about some of the things she has done.

Jme called her dad today. We had encouraged her to try to locate him by phone so that she could at least let him know that she was safe and doing well. And to give him our phone number so that he could contact her if he wanted or needed. She became so excited and animated when she first got on the phone with him. We asked if we could talk to him when she was done. They talked for a little while before Jme brought us the phone. We both talked to Him. He sounded very pleasant and articulate. He did say that he was going to be taking steps soon to regaining full custody of his daughter. This suprised us. Even in the short time she has been with us, we have grown so fond of her, and we want to protect her from every possible harm. We know that being with her dad (or her mom) would be the very best thing, and we want to support whatever steps can be taken to bring wholeness to this family. In the meantime, however, we want to make sure Jme is protected. We don't know the whole story surrounding Jme's expreience or that of her father. We don't know exactly who can say what about where she lives. And we wonder about the possibility of her being taken from us. After the phone call, Jme was upset and crying. She is very disappointed in her dad, and even though she is glad to talk to him and misses him, she is also very mad at and hurt by him.

Tonight was really good though. JimJam came and sat with Wifey and I in the living room and just talked. JimJam talked a mile a minute for quite a while. We laughed and told stories and looked at pictures. It was really good.

Tomorrow we are all packing up and heading to the Banks. JimJam has a doctor's appointment to be evaluated by a phychiatrist for possible medication. I don't like the idea of medicating. It seems like a little love, security and stability would do the trick better than some pharmaceuticals, but what do I know.

First Challenge

Our first day parenting a teenager. Our first challenge. Graduation went really well this morning. Everything looked good. With three graduating seniors, the whole town was looking forward to – or bracing for, depending on your outlook – the various graduation parties that took place (are taking place) tonight. Mayhem will ensue. Drunken fights will happen. State Troopers will become involved. And who knows what other unreported events will also happen. One of the biggest parties was planned to be over at Snarky’s house. There was supposed to be a band there and everything, and it promised to last well into the next day. Snarky’s was Jme’s most recently former home. It is another stroke of amazing timing that we gained custody of her the day before this impending folderol. Seriously. I fear for any young person’s safety in such an environment, especially such an attractive young lady. And even if she was left alone, it would be hard not to succumb to such ubiquitous self-destruction. That being said, we also wanted her to see friends and family who were in town for the occasion, and to be a part of the life of her community. And so we told her that we’d also be at the parties she was at, and that we’d be ready to take her home at ten. We did the party thing for a while until it was time to put the boys down for bed. As we left, we told her we’d be back before ten to get here. Then, at home, Wifey and I talked, and worried. I told Wifey that I had hoped Jme would be there at my side at ten o’clock on the dot. Wifey told me to be realistic. That she probably wouldn’t be standing there beside me at ten o’clock. At fifteen ‘til, I drove back out the road again, bracing for the worst. Not wanting to seem like a curfew nazi, I just picked a spot around the nearest fire, and joined in casual conversation. I’ll be danged if at 9:55 Jime didn’t walk right up and stand beside me. She said that she was done. That she was ready to go. We left shortly after. So far, so good.

Done. Just Like That.

Graduation is tomorrow, and the last day of school the day after. I am running around trying to get all of the preparations done in one last frantic push ‘til the end. And in the midst of all of that, I’m also in the midst of one of the more pivotal decisions of our lives. I think there’s a reason a person can’t have a baby on a whim. It’s all about commitment. Nine plus months of it. And today the craziest thing happened. We added another child to our family. Just like that.

I was at the school today, when our local ICWA worker came to me and handed me one piece of paper. A one page tribal court order giving Wifey and me temporary foster custody of Jme, who was at that moment just down the hall sitting in my classroom. I was stunned and stupefied to suddenly be holding this piece of paper essentially giving her to us. I didn’t know what to do. My first thought was, now what? After school, should she ride the bus to the house she lived in that morning, or should she walk over to the house she would be living in that night? That afternoon she left school early and walked over to our house to be with Wifey. Snarky was still in the City at that time, and the chief and the ICWA worker came to the house to pick Jme up and take her to get her things. And so, tonight, Jme is staying at our house. She brought one of her friends over to spend the night too, which is a really good strategy to ease the transition for her and for us. It’s crazy how fast all of this has happened. And what now? I have no idea.

Enormity; Bigness

Wifey and the boys came up to school for lunch today. They’ve been doing that for a while now, and it’s nice to see them in the middle of the day. Coincidentally, our chief and ICWA worker came over to the school together during lunch to talk about another matter. And so here we all were; me and Wifey and these two whom we had been planning to talk to regarding Jme. Sounds like it was meant to be, right? Wifey asked about the process of having Jme come live with us. They were enthusiastic about the idea. They gave us a rough outline of the process, and it didn’t sound complicated at all. In fact, I think we were both a little taken aback by how easy – and how potentially quickly this idea could be a reality. It hit home when the chief actually said that if things went well we could begin adoption proceedings. That brought Wifey and I both suddenly face to face with the enormity of what were doing. Just a couple hours later, they delivered the application paperwork to Wifey. She and I have already filled out the application, and will return it first thing in the morning. We will have to get criminal background checks done when we go into town in another week. And in the meantime, we continue to pray for Jme as she remains in her current situation, and we pray for wisdom for ourselves as we continue to pursue this huge commitment.

The First Conversation

This morning, Wifey and I made the last minute decision for her to drive to the City for food and supplies for graduation. It was one of those round trips in a day. Snarky came by our place this morning looking for the preacher who comes up on Sundays. Snarky is Jme’s current foster care provider. She’s been a pain in my side all year long about a variety of things unrelated to Jme. When Snarky, ever the opportunist, heard that Wifey was driving to town, she declared that she would ride to town with Wifey. That’s her style, not to ask but to simply declare. Whatever; I would have said no, but Wifey is much more gracious than I. And as it turns out, it was just the opportunity we were looking for.

During the drive, Wifey and Snarky started talking, and Wifey asked about Jme. Snarky said that she was really ready to be through with Jme, and that Snarky planned to put her in a group home in the City as soon as school was out. Wifey asked, what if there was a family in our community that could take her? Snarky said, “No one here wants her. And no one could pass the background check anyway” (a background check is required to become temporarily licensed as a foster care provider). But Wifey persisted, and asked, but what if there was a family that could take her. Snarky then asked bluntly, “Why? Do you want her?” Wifey said, well, yes, that she and I had talked about Jme over much of the past year and had imagined the possibility of having her come stay with us. Wifey told me that Snarky seemed very enthusiastic about the idea, in a "yeah, take her, please" kind of way.

So now, Wifey and I are planning to talk to the chief of the local tribal council and the tribal ICWA (Indian Child Welfare Act) worker to discuss the process of possibly gaining custody of Jme. It’s a scary prospect. Wifey and I have talked a lot about the challenges and pitfalls we could potentially face. But when we then consider what could become of Jme if she remains in her current situation, or if she is moved into a group home, we know it’s the right thing.