My Spoiled Kids
by John A (Dad for 2)
I am writing this letter, for my "spoiled kids" and to all those who adopted or fostered an older child.
This is a letter that I am sending to all the teachers, doctors, friends, families, and the mothers at the playground. I know you all mean well when you give me suggestions on how to parent, but as much as I explain, you still don't 'get it'.
Please don't be offended; I know you are only trying to help.
Please don't patronize me on telling me what I should or shouldn't do, on parenting my adoptive children until the day that you yourself have adopted a child that has experienced so much abuse in the short time they have been on this earth.
Please don't think, for one minute, when you see my children swinging on a swing and you overhear them say "I bet I can get higher than you" that they are 'normal' in any sense of the word.
I know you really don't see my children, for they do blend into the fabric of any playground.
Yes, they 'look' like every other kid.
You cannot see their scars.for they wear them on the inside.
But they do stand out to me, they are so precious to me. I see their scars every minute of my waking hours. Yes, I see their differences so very clear, just as I see who is 'swinging the highest on that swing'.
They are as fragile as a Christmas bulb.
And this is to let you know I do hear you mommies whispering on the playground, talking about my children.
I do hear you. I hear everything.
I hear you say to each other that my children must be 'SPOILED' because they didn't come to me when I called them and told them that "it was time to go" and then I had to go pick them up off the playground floor because they were screaming so loudly that you thought someone was torturing them or something, and the only thing they wanted, was to go for "One more time".
I hear you say that my kids must be "SPOILED" because they really don't take turns very well, and then we have to actually pry them away to let 'little Sammy' have his turn.
I do see, ohhhhh, I do see everything.
I see the funny look you give me because they don't behave like Aunt Suzie's 'little Johnny'
I see the disapproval look in your eyes when my children might yell out a really bad word and assume you know where "they must of got that from."
I see the horror in your eyes as you look at my kids, then look at me of what a horrible parent I must be for even allowing my children to behave that way.
So, what do I want, its really quite simple. All I am asking, is when you adopt or foster an older child that has been beaten so brutally that they come to you with bruises on their little bodies and they were left alone for days while their birth mom did whatever only God knows what...
And when you adopt your child and give him a bath and their hair gets wet, and your heart aches so much because all you see is the 3 inch scars on their heads that will never go away, and you try not to even imagine how they even got them...
And then you try your best while you comb their hair to hide their scars so the other kids won't ask those darn questions they have been known to ask...
And then you have to look your children in the eye, and try to explain that you understand it's hot, and then you try to come up with reasons on why they can't get crew cuts this summer like 'everyone else' because you don't want all the other kids to call them names. After all, kids can be cruel...
When you adopt your child, and your child is petrified to walk freely around the house and you have to escort him from room to room and sit in the bathroom while they go...and the only place he feels safe is outside...
When you adopt your child, and you are given a bunch of letters next to their names.RAD, PTSD, ADHD, FAS, and you search the internet for hours trying to understand what all the letters really mean so you can help your child the best way you know how...
When you adopt your child, and in the middle of the night when you finally have some peace, you are cutting medications in half and quarters, because most of the medications are given to adults and not studied all that well with children, but doctors know best...
When you adopt your child that has waken up every night with night terrors and has no clue where he is, or who you are....and you try to comfort him and he pushes you away...
when you adopt your child that pees outside all the time because he is so scared to come in to use the bathroom and you don't know why....
when you adopt your child that sometimes wants to be spoon fed at 8 yrs old and you know that you have to do this and hope that he doesn't ask in public. But if he does, you do it, because you understand why.....and then deal with those looks by people you don't even know...
When you adopt your child, who refuses to go upstairs, because he is scared of heights because his birth mother hung him out a third floor window by his ankles and threatened to drop him...
When you adopt your child and you RSVP to a birthday party and you hear on the other end of the phone "oh", hesitation in voice "great"...
when you adopt your child, and he knows every curse word there is at 5 yrs old and he will use them when ever he 'feels like it...'
When you adopt your child and you have learned that you cannot bring your child to the food store anymore and all your babysitters are 'to busy' and in an uncomfortable voice tell you that they "wont be able to baby-sit anymore", and you know why...
when you adopt your child and in a heated moment you raised your voice and then you find your child regressed so much that you feel like you have to start all over again...
when you adopt your child and you get some kind of sick pleasure watching other children misbehave and feel like your not the only ones...
When you adopt your child that has come home with things in their pockets and you know that they stole them from the store or Aunt Suzie's house...
When you adopt your child and you invite his classmates to come over for his 7th birthday party, and only 2 kids can make it...
when you adopt your child that says "I love you" but your not really sure if they mean it, because how could they really know what love is anyway...
When you adopt your child, and you know that he is watching everything you do to see if you can really keep him safe...
When you adopt your child that pulls away from you because they are uncomfortable with your affection...
when you adopt your child, and you say "im leaving, if you don't come" and your children really believe you will leave and never come back for them...
When you adopt your child and he yells "I hate you" and you're not really sure if he actually means it...
when you adopt your child and he is petrified to go to sleep and it takes hours of holding, story telling, back rubs.... until his body and mind, is just so tuckered out, and then you hope that he might feel safe enough to close his eyes...
When you adopt your child, and as you enter his School, and you know the look, because no one is really happy that he showed up...
When you adopt your child and you just feel so isolated from the rest of the world, because your life is so different then anyone else's and no one understands...
When you adopt your child, and you get so tired of telling your child over and over again, that "you are his 'forever family' now" and he still doesn't believe you, because the last 6 foster homes he thought were his 'forever family' too...
When you adopt your child that has been deprived so much, that when he is on the swing at the playground and doesn't want to 'take turns', and you know it's only because he thinks that he will never get the chance to be on a 'swing' again...
There is one thing to remember about my children, and this the hardest part of all, it's that they know they are different, they know they are not like Aunt Suzie's 'little Johnny'.
They are the ones who were woken up in the middle of the night with men in uniforms grabbing them out of their birth mothers arms and not understanding what they did wrong.
They are the ones who lost their favorite blankey that they loved to cuddle with to help them fall asleep.
They are the ones with the ciggerette burns all over their arms and legs.
They know already they don't need to be reminded on a daily basis by your looks and words, on how not 'normal' they really are.
Yes, my skin has gotten thicker. I have learned the art of 'letting go'. But I will tell you, It's still hard, after all, these are my children, that I hear you talk about.
So don't think for a minute that I would give anything for my kids to blend in with the other kids...don't think for a minute, that I would love to see the smile on your face and you are generally happy that we showed up. And don't think for a minute, that I would love for him to share the swing with 'little Sammy'.
But you know what? these are not just my children, these are OUR children. These are the children that were abused and abandoned by their families that you see on the playground yelling "I bet I can swing higher then you".
So, what do I want, like I said, its pretty simple. When you finally find it in your hearts to adopt one of our 'hurt' children.
Then I would be more than happy to listen to your suggestions on how I should parent our "SPOILED KIDS"
Because, after all, I do listen.
