Just Your Average Day

It may be one of those days. Gave the boy his medication this morning. He had a glass of water. He took the pill and was taking a drink of water as I was turning around to lock the medication back up. I heard water hit the floor. When I look there is a huge wet spot on the front of his shirt and water in the kitchen floor. "Did you just try to drink water and miss your entire mouth?" I asked. "Yes," he said seriously, "yes I did."


Not sure I have the hang of the parenting thing yet. The boy takes off on our nightly walk in flip flops. He starts running on the gravel road and I tell him to stop. Rather I said, "Don't run in flip flops, you'll trip and go sliding on your nose. I don't have my phone, so how am I supposed to post the video to youtube?"

Important Information to Know if You Are Thinking of Adding a Young Boy to Your Family

I have discovered, since becoming the (sometimes) proud foster dad of a (now)10-year-old boy that my education is severely lacking in several areas.  Apparently my high school and university science classes were severely limited and I was not informed of the existence of many life forms that are incredibly important to young boys.  To help others, I have listed the most important of these along with a short description, below.

This is a Bakugan.  If you think it is a cheap plastic ball, you are wrong.  It is a cheap plastic ball that can unfold into a cheap plastic monster.  It also has many friends, also call Bakugan, who are in different colors and some may form cubes rather than balls.  The ball form also makes an excellent toy for cats to bat under furniture.  I believe this species survives by having a Saturday morning cartoon and several video games.

This is a Redakai.  I have seen it only as pictures on 3 d game cards.  I believe there is also a Saturday morning cartoon.  There may be video games I am not sure as I have been guilty of confusing it with:

Ben Ten, which is several cartoons and several video games.

This is a Pokeman called Pickachu.  There are many Pokeman with many names.   They are everywhere, cartoons, video games, books, happy meals, trading cards, small plastic toys.  Don't try to remember them all, you will hurt yourself.

Yu-Gi-Oh.  It's a card game and cartoon.  There are also books and video games.  Don't heard quite as much about it as the others from my boy, but it does come up occasionally.

These are Bey Blades, there are several in my house.  There are many, many different kinds and none of them are inexpensive.  They have their own cartoon and seem to now be spreading to video games, still at least the kids need to get together to play the actual game, which involves pitting their top against the other players tops.  Also lots of fun for the family, because you get to look for the lost ones after the kid leaves them in the floor and the cat swats them under the furniture.  Not a lot of fun to step on barefoot in the dark though.

This is the big one for my boy.  It doesn't seem to have cards or toys, at least none I've seen, but there are videos, books, many video games and cartoons.  So far there are Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball Z Kai, and Dragon Ball GT.  I can't tell them apart, but he can.  At first glance, you might mistake it for Nazi Propaganda based on all the blonde-haired Aryan super powered fighters, or a hair gel commercial, but it's a kid's show.

Daycare Lunches

Tales from the Monkey-Brained Boy part whatever...
The boy has been, mostly, behaving pretty well.  Apparently this was to lull me into a false sense of security so I would let down my guard.  Today he struck.  I have him in daycare, and my choices are to either send a lunch or give them money to buy a lunch for him.  We shopped and I let him pick out his lunches, he chose a specific selection of Lunchables, some fruit punches, ext.  I bought him a little insulated cooler with some refreezable cold packs to carry his lunch in and keep the food poisoning to a minimum.  Well, he was a bit excited the first day, because the center served pizza, but I explained it wasn't free, and he seemed fine with it.  But at some point, he decided one of the lunches he picked out wasn't to his liking.  He is funny about food, and will often through a fit over a particular food, declaring it his favor food ever, only to later reveal he doesn't like it and had never tried it before.  His truthfulness, or total lack thereof has been a major issue, and it recently came to the front.  The wonderful, sweet, kindhearted friend who picks him up when I work late, keeps him for me when I have to be out of town, and to whom I owe way to many favors to ever possibly pay back has even had trouble with him lying.  Up until recently he was on his super best behavior, but apparently he feels comfortable enough there he is starting to be himself.  After lying to her husband the previous day, he was given a talking to by her.  Then I confronted him about it this morning again and tried to explain why it was important to be truthful.  I have also refused to buy him anything new until he eats whatever food he had me buy him special.  I hope to stop the falsehoods and teach him to be truthful.  If I decide to try something new, I eat it whether I like it or not, perhaps this is a bit much to expect of a nine-year old, but I was not allowed to waste food as a child, so I don't think I should allow one to waste food either, especially if he lies to get the food.  It seems there should be multiple lessons in there, at least in theory.    Friday was swim day, so I was planning to give the daycare money to buy him lunch at the pool.  So I packed his last lunch, the one he had decided he didn't want.   I signed him into daycare.  When my friend picked him up, she was informed I owed the daycare $4.50 because I hadn't packed him a lunch and he ate 3 pieces of pizza.  Apparently he gave his lunch to another boy and told everyone I hadn't packed him a lunch.  Were there not a rule in place that says no physical punishment, and were I not the sort of person who believes in following rules and who's career is built around trying to insure people who don't want to follow the rules are following them, the boy would not be able to use the lower rear part of his anatomy to rest on for a month.  I haven't yet decided on the full extent of his punishment, but there will be consequences.  First he took a bath, ate supper and went straight to bed, this was mostly because my hand was twitching and my eye kept finding paddle-shaped objects.  I think I shall make sure daycare workers become much better acquainted with the boy and with me.  Next, I will see if he can be allowed to not participate in swimming and in the skating field trip next week.  If his being in daycare means he has to participate, then I'll have to come up with a daycare substitute for next Wednesday, he's been looking so forward to that field trip to the skating rink.

This morning

We are having new shingles put on the house. The crew doing it is hispanic. They started work this morning. The boy knew they were there but hadn't seen them. When we left the house he said, "Are those guys Italian?"

After we were in the car and heading to daycare I explained they were hispanic not Italian and he asked me what Italian was. I explained it referred to someone from the country of Italy. He asked me what Italy was.

Later we saw the truck in the picture. He is constantly telling me I need to get a new car so he can get a "hot girl". I'm not really sure a 9 or 10 year old girl is going to care what kind of car he rides in the back seat of, but he seems to feel a red mustang, camaro or charger is in order. So I pointed the truck out and told him I was stopping to ask if it was for sale. He asked why, I told him I thought we would look cool cruising town in it. "What? Are you nuts? You must be crazy?" he sputtered. "You've just noticed?" I asked.

Problems with Pencils

The only homework the boy had was to study 17 vocabulary words. It took an hour and 10 minutes. Part of the issue was supplies. He ran out of lead for his mechanical pencil. I refused to replace it based on the simple fact that be puts out too long a piece then uses too much pressure and it breaks. He informs me this is okay as he has some. I ask where, and he answers in his desk at school because they aren't allowed to use them. I ask why he is buying mechanical pencils at school if he can't use them in class, he says they can use them to draw at recess. I doubt the boy is sitting quietly drawing at recess if he can be running amok with other boys. He finely remembers he has a normal pencil in his book bag and asks me to sharpen it. I do, then as I'm returning the sharpener to the cup that holds the pens and pencils, I notice one of the ink pens looked odd. I examined it closely. "When did you do this?" I asked. "What?" he answered. "Run this ink pen through the pencil sharpener." I responded. "I don't remember doing that." he replied. "Well, I didn't do it." I said, "and I don't think any of the cats were well coordinated or inclined to do it, so who does that leave?" "I said I don't remember doing it!" he said. "I know I didn't do, and I can be sure the cats didn't do it. At what point did sharpening an ink pen seem a Good Idea?"

This Morning

It was 4:15 AM, and a quiet morning, perhaps too quiet.  I was sleeping, my favorite 4:15 AM activity.  I awoke to an alien presence in my bedroom door.  “I need you to come look at this.”  There was someone standing in the door.  I was instantly alert.  “What?”  I asked.  “I need you to come look at something.”  It was a male, approximately 4 and a half foot tall and about 75 pounds.  He was Caucasian, blond hair with blue eyes and wearing a grey t-shirt with red flannel pajama bottoms with blue dinosaurs on them.  I guessed his age about 9 years.  “Is the house on fire?”  I asked.  “No, I just need you to look at something.”  I got out of bed and followed him to his bedroom.  His bed had a large wet spot on it.  It was very suspicious.  I stripped the evidence and sent it to the laundry room for forensic processing.  I also had the suspect/victim strip and sent his clothing off for processing.  I hosed off the mattress with Lysol then made the second bed.  Then I went back to bed for the 50 minutes of sleep I had left.   

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Took the boy to the park after church. It started off poorly, Burger King messed up our order. He wants a double hamburger with ketchup only. Noone sells that. They all sell double cheeseburgers. I have the local McDonald's partially trained. I order a double cheeseburger, no cheese, ketchup only and they get it right about 85% of the time, but he insisted on BK and they haven't dealt with him and we were at the park before he discovered his burger had been contaminated with cheese. He would not eat it. Since I have nothing against cheese, I'm actually quiet fond of it, my burger also had cheese on it. I don't really understand fussy eating, my mother wouldn't tolerate it, and if I had refused to eat something I would have done without until the next meal. If I was half as picky as this kid I would never have made it until I was his age, I would have starved to death. I gave him my fries and he ate those then played for an hour or so. On the way back home, he asked about a reward for being good. Apparently in his mind, my having to drag him away from the river twice, although he knows to stay away from it, qualified as good. But I knew he hadn't had much breakfast, he didn't want anything we had in the house, although he picked out his cereal himself, then little lunch, so I bought him a bag of his favorite chips and a drink. When we got home he bounced out and immediately asked permission to turn on the evil "game system." It was granted, but when I went back out to the car to retrieve something I saw the empty chip bag. I picked it up out of the backseat only to see most of the contents laying on the floorboard on his side. The explanation was long and involved hand positions and gusts of wind, he never could explain why he didn't tell me he had dumped the bag of Doritos in the floor though. Anyway my back floorboard carpet now smells like nacho cheese.





We've had a couple of power outages in the past week. The boy asked me if I could set his clock while he took a bath. I agreed, but as I went into his room I noticed a couple of things. First there was a sleeve peeking out from under the blanket on the second, unused, bed. I lifted the blanket to find a small pile of laundry, at least part of which I recognized as having been worn recently. "But how can this be?" I thought. "I had him bring me all of his dirty laundry Friday." So I proceeded to the bathroom to inquire. At this point, I noticed his karate bag on his bed. It was opened and contained his pants, which had been in the first load of laundry, but not not his top or tee shirt, both of which had been in the second, and yet he had assured me he had sorted and put away the laundry. I reversed course and opened the top drawer on his dresser. The drawer was crammed full of not only the gi top and tee shirt, but also pants, shirts, shorts, underwear and socks. Despite the fact that he was bragging to the case worker just last week about how he had arranged his clothing himself and always helped around the house and did all his chores. I quizzed my young housemate and apparently he forgot the dirty clothes when he gathered up his dirty laundry. He doesn't know how they came to be under the blanket. Apparently a burglar broke in and rather than steal anything, hid half the boy's dirty laundry under a convenient blanket as a prank. He did admit to not sorting his laundry and I made him put that right before he could watch tv. As far as the mysterious laundry, at least two of those things are his favorites and he will want to wear them to school this week. They will probably not make it into the laundry until next weekend.

Busy Day

Yesterday was a busy day. I took the boy to the dentist first thing. I had made arrangements with his caseworker for her to meet me there and wait for him and take him back to school, since I had morning appointments at work. She was called into a meeting but arranged for someone else to do it. That someone wasn't there. After some phone calls it turned out the woman was running late. I called work and waited. She showed up, I introduced them and showed her the mighty back pack. Later, I pick the boy up from school and he is in a strange shirt a couple sized too big. I inquire and get some wild tale about hamburgers, forgotten back packs, torn shirts, slides, and strange trips to Sparta. I have to investigate further. Anyway, we get his hair cut and get him to karate. Then we go to Walmart where he is so hyped up he's bouncing off things. There, when I call him down and tell him to behave, I get informed I'm a bad foster dad and mean to him. I should have shaved his head at home instead of paying for the fancy haircut. Anyway, this morning it's 35 degrees outside and he comes out in a shorts and a tshirt. I send him back in to change, after much arguing. He informed me the lady who took him to school told him it was supposed to be 86 today. I told him my phone said otherwise and he needed long pants and a jacket. He changes to jeans no jacket. I don't say a word. We wait for the bus, "I'm cold." "From now on you'll listen to my phone instead of some strange lady you meet won't you?"

The Boy, The Bus, The Backpack

Thursday was the boy's school Easter Party/egg hunt. He was only at school for 90 minutes, yet he insisted on taking his backpack, despite having only a single sheet of paper that needed to be turned in. The eggs and his basket had been taken to school a couple of days earlier, so I placed him on the bus with his backpack. When I picked him up from the sitter's that evening, he said, "let me get my stuff, disappeared and reappeared with his basket of candy. "Where's your backpack?" "I left it on the bus, besides I didn't need it." After several sessions of intense questioning, I determined that he left the backpack on the bus when he got off AT school. It never occurred to him to tell anyone he left it on the bus. It wasn't on the seat where he left it when he got back on the bus, but he never asked the driver. Great.




Last night: "Pack your karate bag." "Can't it wait until in the morning?" "No, we'll be running around and forget it." "Okay." Packs his gym bag. Leaves in bedroom. "Don't you think you should set it on the couch." "No, I'll remember it."




This morning: "Where's your karate bag?" Looks frantically around the living room. "I can't find it? What happened to it?" "Don't know, you packed it last night." "Last time I saw it, It was right here." Points to the couch. "YOU PACKED IT last night." Said slowly. "No, it was.... oh yeah" Runs into room and comes out with the bag, packed but unzipped.
A few minutes later after zipping bag: "Time to go." He hops off the sofa and disappears. I fill the cats' water bowl and look for him. "Where are you?" He comes out of his room looking frantically around the living room. "Where's my back pack?"

Fortunately, the bus driver had the back pack. And he didn't even thank him for finding and rescuing it.

Latest Chapter in Life with The Boy

Life with the boy is never dull.  First, when I picked him up at school, I found that “we” were working on a few things.  First, “we” were working on not talking back.  “We’ve” ALL been working on that, at home, at in-home case management, at school, at Karate, at therapy, everywere.  The trigger word for the boy is “besides”, always plural.  When that word is uttered it means someone is about to receive one or some combination of the following: an argument, a lie, notification that whatever punishment you handed down is temporary, a change of subject, some really screwy reasoning, or a question about what will happen if he disobeys, or notification of a perceived loophole. Next, use of inappropriate language.  I didn’t probe, I let the teacher deal with it.  When I questioned him in the car, he said he got in trouble for saying “Holy Crap.”  Later, the in-home case manager questioned him about it and he claimed other kids had said he used the “S” word, but he didn’t he said crap.  In “the boy speak” that probably means he said “Holy Sh**”.  The teachers were probably going along with it “Holy Crap” because it was easier or because they were afraid I would punish him more.  They probably think I am some sort of monster based on the two IEP meetings I’ve attended and the way they react to my stories and explanations of my structuring.   They don’t live with him.  Some of them are starting to look a bit more sympathetic though.  Next, use of poor English particularly “ain’t.”  and lastly, not pushing so hard to make friends.

I put him to bed at 9:00 PM.  At 10:30, as I was just settling into a good sleep, he said something.  It was louder than it should be.  I questioned him, he repeated whatever he said.  I gave up and got up.  He was standing in the hallway.  His eyes were open and he was babbling.  He was stuttering badly, and seemed slightly excited and a bit frustrated.  He was pointing into his bathroom and asking me something along the lines of “What was that thing you were saying was out-of-style?”  I inquired as to what he was speaking.  He stuttered a bit but couldn’t seem to get it out.  He came into the living room and leaned on the arm of the sofa.  He kept trying to say something.  He seemed alert, not scared, but excited.  He was too excited and his stutter was in full power, so he couldn’t say whatever he trying to say.  He finally said “Never mind” and went back to his room and climbed in his bed.  I asked if he were okay, he replied yes.  I asked if why he was up.  He didn’t know.  I asked what he wanted, he didn’t know.  I asked if he needed to use the bathroom.  He said yes and went into the living room.  I asked what he was doing.  “Going to the bathroom.”  At which point he did.  He then went to bed.  This morning he claims to remember none of it. 

An Update

The boy’s afterschool program doesn’t meet on Fridays.  He rides the bus to Mom’s.  I was off work early Friday and beat him home.  When he got off the bus he was happy and throwing something in the air and catching it. When he came in he had a good report on his school behavior.  He also had a cup of unopened applesauce.  His friend on the bus gave it to him he said.  Later mom called.  There was a strange can of spaghetti sitting on her carport.   It was the boy’s.  The mysterious friend again who gives pasta and applesauce at work.  Yesterday, the bus driver spoke with the boy after he boarded but before he could sit down.  I asked about it last night.  His “sort of” friend Joseph had told some kind of lie about him.  The boy was saying my poor, put upon house guest was threatening him.  When I questioned him further, I was accused of calling the boy a liar.  I retrieved the notebook we do his spelling and math practice in and he questioned me.  I told him I was writing a note to the bus driver to let him get off at the sitter’s Thursday, since they only had a hour and a half of school.  When I folded up the note and put it with my stuff he became concerned.  He insisted he could give it to the driver.  “No, the rules say I have to give him the written permission.”  This morning when I stood by him he again tried to get the note to give the driver.  When I spoke with the driver I found that my poor innocent boy was threatening to take food from Joseph.  Who do I believe, my poor, poor, well-behaved child with the mysterious toy and food items, or the strange little boy I’ve never met?

The genius who always does as he's told who he lives with me broke my bird cage. I had a spare, but it's small and doesn't have much in the way of perches or swings. I did manage to rescue the two birds before the cats did. I managed to rig the cage and get them in long enough to clean the spare and transfer them over. I had some field work to do on Monday, so I put a request out on Facebook asking my friends about secondhand and salvage stores that might carry a cage. I had checked both local papers, and an online classified as well as Ebay and some online stores. I found a couple of cheap used ones, but not close. The price was right even with the drive, but it would be Friday before I could do that. I hated to leave them in that little cage that long. Incidentally if anyone ever tells you a cockatiel is harmless little songbird, I have some bloody bites on my hands to prove them wrong. My facebook connection resulted in my cousin setting me up with a cage from my aunt. I was actually able to walk to get it. It wasn't much bigger than my spare, but the space was better and the cage was arranged better for feeding and changing the paper.




He obeys so well. He's scared of bees, and usually runs from them. Today while weedeating, I see him running and swatting. When I investigate I find out he's chasing the bumblebees. I tell him to stop before he gets stung. Five minutes later, he's doing it again. I tell him to stop again. Later when I send him outside to give myself a time out over the cage, i see him doing it again. I'm a bit angry so I decide to leave him alone. I figure if he catches one, he'll figure out why they don't make good pets. Then when we walk out to get the new cage, it's twilight, the time of day not the sparkly vampire movie, and he takes off running across the the plowed field. He falls. I tell him not to run in the dark. He runs off again and falls. I ask if he broke anything. "No, I landed on my butt, but I hit my head." "Well at least it wasn't anything you use."

I Am Not a Crook.

One of my clients had a bit of a mishap and ended up with new charges, among them DUI and aggravated assault.  A violation was filed.  She was found guilty of some of the new offenses.  She was then found guilty of the violation.  She was given a sweetheart of a deal:  revoked and reinstated with an extension on her probation and 10 days to serve on weekends.  The first weekend she showed up high.  They warned her.  The next weekend she smuggled a pain pill into jail in her belly button and they caught her crushing and snorting it.  They held her the remainder of the 10 days and asked me for another violation report, which I submitted and a warrant has been issued, with no bond on it.  She called today and asked if it was ready, I told her it was.  She then asked about bond and I told her there wasn't one.  She then asked why not.  I explained that she had a second chance on probation, blew it, then they gave her a great deal and a third chance and she blew that too.  I told her judges tended to take that sort of thing seriously.  So then she says, "But don't they understand I'm not a criminal, I need help?"   

A Short Story with Some Sort of Point

A few years ago I was prowling through an online classified website.  As part of my job I am required to monitor my clients' employment and search for employment.   I like to have an idea of local job opportunities to mention when they start whining about how there aren't any jobs out there and how they looked everywhere.  I enjoy the look of panic that crosses there faces when I say something like:  "Did you try IHOP they have an ad in the paper?" or "Lowes is hiring 4 people for day shift, did you apply there?"  They tend to not like to have to commit to specific details, it might reveal how much actual effort they put in.  I also try to make them track the search on paper, but that is a detail for another day.

While perusing the site, I saw an ad for a private detective.  Actually the ad said something along the lines of "I want to do your detective work, just finished an online school and have a special computer program, hire me for all your investigative work.  It gave his name, phone number, and address.  Just out of curiosity I check to see if he was licensed.  He wasn't.  That wasn't a misuse of office, in the state of Tennessee, there is a website, linked from the state public website, where you can check to see if anyone doing a job requiring a license or certification from the state is duly licensed or certified and current on the license or certificate.  It is a matter or public record.  He wasn't.  Again being a noisy bastard, I did a quick search through both the public website of the state department of commerce and insurance and a google search to see the requirements to become a licensed private investigator in Tennessee and the penalties for practicing without the license.  Then, again being a bastard, because it wasn't really anything to me, I messaged the guy via the email on the classified website and warned him he faced a misdemeanor conviction and a rather stiff fine if he accepted money to do anything along this line and was reported without the appropriate licensing.  I referred him to the sites explaining how to get his license and the penalties for operating without one.  He emailed me back thanking me and explaining that he had looked all over but couldn't find out what he needed to do......

It took me less than 30 seconds to run a google search which yielded a few hundred results.  The first 6 or 7 of which were websites wanting to teach me to be a private investigator, but every one of the five I looked at linked back to the state site listing the requirements to be licensed.  He's trained and wants to handle all my investigative needs, for money, but can't work a simple internet search portal?

Not having a fun weekend. Friday the boy came home with better grades on study sheets and homework than normal so I attempted to reward him with a dvd with episodes of his favorite tv show on it. This seemed to work and he spent friday evening absorbed in it. I sent him to bed at 9 and he still had some unwatched episodes. I've had issues with him and getting up at night and doing things, especially tv and games so there are strict rules as to when electronic devices can come on in the house and basically it's after I am up and have given permission. Around 5AM I heard a door sweaking. Then I heard him in his bathroom, then another door. Since he insists on sleeping with his bedroom door open, a lamp on in his bedroom, the bathroom light on, my bedroom door open and my bathroom light on, the only door that should be moving is the bathroom. I got up to investigate. He's propped up in bed reading a comic book. "Oh you're up." he says. "No I'm not. Go back to sleep." "What time is it?" asks the boy I have to wake up every school day at 6AM. "It's 5 o'clock in the morning. Go back to sleep." He looks surprised, but rolls over after I take the book away. I tried to go back to sleep, but he kept making noise often enough I knew he wasn't sleeping. So at 6:30 I gave up and got up. He pops up about 30 seconds after and asks when we are going to town. I told him definitely not now. He stammers around and then asks if he can turn on his "game system." The ps2 is also his dvd player. I told him no. He asked why. I told him there was no reason for him to be up before 5 am on a Saturday, and if he couldn't be considerate enough to let us old folks sleep, he couldn't watch his shows. He then asked if he could play a game, I asked how since he couldn't turn on the systems. He then asked what he could do. I suggested he finish the book he was "reading" at 5 am. He stomped off. After I calmed down I started breakfast. He came out of his room to inform me he was in condition yellow, "hungry". This is his second most common condition, with condition red, "bored" being the first. Although condition black, "grounded" is fast approaching to challenge. I told him I was working on breakfast. He asked what it was. I told him scrambled eggs and ham. He declared that "nasty" and demanded cereal. When I told him that he knew the rules and he ate what was put in front of him. He screamed he didn't like that, he wanted cereal. He, from what I can determine, has never eaten an egg. He stormed into his room and climbed into bed. After I had breakfast on the table, I told him to come and eat. He screamed he didn't want that he wanted cereal. I walked into his room and told him in the voice I usually reserve for telling me clients that the nice person in the uniform standing behind them is there to fit them for some special bracelets that he was to get out there and eat breakfast. He screamed I don't want to into my face. I told him the game systems were going for the weekend. He said he didn't care so I unhooked the xbox and playstation and took them to my room. Then I yelled into the room that his food was in the microwave, but he wasn't getting anything else until lunch. Next time I walked past his door he was asleep.




After we finished our errands in town, I told the boy we were going to rearrange furniture. We put the futon out in the storage building and then I stuck a tv stand in the living room. Then I went to his room and hauled the tv out onto the stand. I expected to hear a squawk. Nothing. He went and started hauling out cables. I got the xbox and ps2 out of my room and hooked everything up. I looked around and he was hauling the rest of his belongings out and dropping them on the couch. I asked what he was doing and he said he was bringing the rest of his stuff out here. "The REST of your stuff?" He said yes since that wasn't his room anymore, pointing at his room. "Why isn't that your room?" "You moved my stuff in here," he said pointing to the games. Don't start saying "aww.... poor little guy." When I first got the ps2, I told him it was mine, and it belonged to the house, he could use it, but it stayed here when he left. I tried to be nice about it and explained that the next little boy that came along would need it. At which point he informed me that it was too bad for that little boy, but he didn't care, that was his and he was taking it all when he left. Which was how he was actually grounded from the ps2 2 hours after I brought it home. I again informed him those weren't his and I was putting them where I could keep a closer eye on them. I made him move his other stuff back into the bedroom. He then came out and expressed curiosity as to whether or not I was allowed to play on the game systems. I told him that I most definitely could play on them. He then went to sulk for awhile. Later that day he came out into the living room. Looked at the tv, then me and the boy who cannot sleep unless he can see from one end of the house to the other from his bed asked me, extremely casually if I ever slept with my bedroom door shut. That's when I told him if he ever broke a rule involving games or tv again, the whole mess was getting locked in the gun cabinet and he was never seeing any of it again. I don't think he believes me.






Sunday:




I woke him for church. After church we ate then I started housecleaning. We have a lot of caseworkers wandering in and out this week, would rather the place look neat.


Beautiful spring-like day, the windows are up, the fans going, and I'm cleaning the carpet. The boy squeals, "There's a wasp in the house." "Leave it alone, I'm sure it eats less than you, we'll call it Fred."





Five hours later:





The boy walks into the house and across my freshly shampooed living room carpet, looks at me and says, "What do you want me to do with my shoes, they're muddy?" Yes he is still alive, but not happy.

More from the Mind of a 9-year-old

Just had an argument I don't understand. The boy has backpack issues. He came to me with a fancy backpack with a frame and wheels and a collapsing handle. He hated it. He saw the backpack in the trunk of the car where I keep my equipment and kept asking to trade. I didn't want to do that, but as I started picking him up at school I did notice his backpack sort of stuck out, so I finally brought mine in and emptied it. I emptied his pack and stuck my stuff in it. It fit so I traded. He was happy for about 30 seconds. For him that isn't bad. I enrolled him in karate and tonight is his first class. I haven't bought a gi for him, let him get a couple of weeks in and make sure he won't drop out first. So he needed to take a pair of sweat pants and a tshirt with him to change into for class. He did not want to put those in his backpack. It wasn't like I was asking him to carry anything potentially embarrassing like a jock strap and cup or something. He threw a fit. He wanted to stick them in a grocery bag and carry them separate. That might be reasonable except that this boy would forget his feet on the bus if they weren't attached. The backpack is the only thing he don't forget. He would not tell me why he didn't want to put the clothes in the backpack and I go through the backpack pretty much every night and he don't pack until the last minute so I know what's in the backpack when it arrives and leaves here. I finally said, "No clothes in the backpack, no karate." He pouted his way into his room. 30 seconds later he peaked around the corner to see if my grinch-like heart and grown 10 sizes or something, then sulked back. At 6:30 I told him to get a move on it was time for the bus. He sloooowly packed the clothes into a plastic bag and sloooowly put that in the backpack. Then we sulked to the road where he suddenly seemed to forget everything. WTH????




I have a magical hotwheel. It can teleport itself. It apparently teleported from his room to school where it was either lost or traded at recess. It teleported because he would never have taken it to school when he was told not to do that. Then it teleported teleported itself into the teacher's desk drawer. It had to have happened that way because he would never play with it during class and have it confiscated it. And lastly it teleported itself into my dryer where apparently all lost, teleporting hotwheels go to be found.




The boy did another weird thing. This is most definitely a learning experience. They moved him to a different class after the IAP meeting so new teacher. The first teacher and I had already gone through the whole milk break and snacks thing, but the new teacher didn't know it. When I went to the parent teacher thing one thing that come up was that the boy was helping himself to her basket of snacks for the kids that forgot or lost a snack during milk break. Elementary school teachers seem to be kind of awesome like that. Not like icky probation officers who are always grouchy. Anyway, she thought I might not know that I could send a snack with him. "I've been sending 2 every morning, usually either 2 fruit roll ups or a fruit roll up and some other fruit thing." Anyway the munchkin was apparently, I have nothing other than his word for this after intense interrogation and translation, eating one treat on the bus and either giving the other away or trading it for something else. Then scarfing a snack from the teacher. Yesterday when we had the altercation over work out clothes, I forgot the break milk ticket, which he insists is a "fake milk ticket," ran out. So I intended to send $6 with him for a new milk ticket. It worked once. I forgot, so I detoured by the store, made change and drove to the school with the money and 2 fruit rollups. One went into the back seat for pre-karate electrolytes or something, the other and the money I dropped off at the front desk. The very nice woman at the desk located him and passed the money and instruction along to him. In the telephone call afterwords, she said he got an odd look on his face so she asked the janitor to watch him. Bless the man, because he did, even though monitoring insane 9 year-olds probably isn't anywhere in his job description. The boy bought something, later investigation indicates a notepad, at the book store then gave the rest of the money to a friend. Once reported, the Principal managed to straighten it out and get him a milk ticket. I find myself constantly thanking and apologizing to the awesome people at the school.




Started a load of laundry and fished out the bag containing his school clothes he had worn prior to changing into his clothes for karate. The items included a pair of underwear. "You changed underwear to go to karate?" I asked. "Yeah." he answered looking at me like I was nuts.

Things I Have Discovered

Well, I survived my first month as a foster parent, they actually call us resource parents.  I am also doing this solo, so I survived my first month as a single foster parent.  Some of it was fun, some frustrating, and a bit was infuriating, but it was enlightening.  I haven't been a parent, so while I realize it isn't exactly like being a Dad.  I don't have any sort of biological connection to the boy, and I haven't known him since the day he was born.  I have only the vaguest idea what he's been through and have to figure out what he has been taught, what values he has had instilled in him, and what he feels is normal.  I am 45 years old and grew up in a small town in the rural southern United States.  So my upbringing was conservative and conventional and probably would be considered old-fashioned among other less polite adjectives, so some of what I am discovering saddens me.

I have the boy in an after school program to try to improve his grades.  It also means my parents only have to deal with him on Friday afternoon for a little while until I make it home.  When picking him up last week he asked me when my job was over.  I told him I normally finished work sometime between 4:30 and 5:30, it was a bit different every day.  He then said no, when was my job done.  I told him that it was never done.  That surprised him.  Next he asked me when I got my summer break.  I told him I didn't get a summer break, breaks were over when you finished school  I did get vacation time, but not a long break.  So he suggested I quit my job.  I told him if I quit, I would no longer get paid and we couldn't afford to live.  He was puzzled by this and asked why I wouldn't get a check in the mail every month like everyone else.

Apparently in his view of normal things no one connected to him had to work.  I've already discussed his diet in a previous post.  I was also made aware during a meeting with his teacher, principal, school psychiatrist, caseworker, and special education specialists that apparently in his first 2 years of school he attended school about 100 days.  That's for both years.

It is really sad that no one has ever taken care of this child.  He doesn't understand about work, school has never been stressed as important.  I finally made him understand that he wasn't going back to his parent in a few days and he is starting to take school a bit more seriously.  But I feel more a drill instructor than parent.  He sits down at the table and writes spelling words while I prepare dinner.  Then we go through homework, he is a little better about knowing what he needs to do.  For the first several weeks I had to search his backpack examining every paper and making a best guess at what needed to be done.  On several occasions he deliberately forgot stuff.  I started making up homework harder than he would have had.  But it really boiled down to that meeting when I found how much he was playing the teacher and me against each other and being a very sneaky about school work.  He lost all tv, movie, and video game rights for 1 week.  I left the playstation and xbox in his room but confiscated controllers and power supplies.  I took all remotes and everything was locked in my room.  I would not let him on the computers either.  Of course, I didn't have any TV and had the boy non-stop for a week, so we both got punished, but with a few minor exceptions he has behaved better.

The impressions I get is the boy was ignored and allowed to do as he pleased, he ate what he wanted, as much as he wanted, and was occasionally given stuff when the parents felt guilty about letting him raise himself.  He seems to have had no rules or chores.  So I am a bit of a shock to him.  He also tends to talk back and wants to argue.  Initially he would walk into a room, take over the TV even if you watch it.  He now asks if he can watch TV or change the channel if it was on.  After taking over the TV, he would turn off the lights, even if you were in the room reading or writing, so he could see it better.  That happened twice, not once since.  He ate meals in front of the TV or in bed,  left his clothes where he took them off and left the soap laying in the bathtub.  He now eats at the table, eats what is on his plate and asks permission to leave the table.  I had to institute that last part, because I found him stuffing his mouth full then flushing vegetables he didn't like down the toilet.  I am still working on the clothes thing, but that might be 9 year old boy.  I bought him body wash in a Spiderman bottle because I wasn't quite ready to add another front to the war.  The back talk and arguing is an ongoing battle, but is improving.  Some of it might be attention seeking.  He has tried cursing once, and told me to bite him once.  Both those were dealt with.  He has tried crying on me twice, I ignore it.  Both times were frustration over being made to sit and do homework.  If he don't like to do something he tries to wear me down by doing it slowly or by rushing it and not paying attention.  He has to redo it.  Since he knows it is coming, he will often take an hour or more to eat.  When he finally realizes that he has used up all his free time and will have to take a bath and go bed, he gets mad.  So he tries to cry.  I ignore it.  He stops.  A couple of weeks ago after a crying jag, he went back to working then looked up at me and glared.  He then informed me he was mad at me.  Apparently this was supposed to have some sort of earthshaking consequence.  I informed him that I didn't care, and went to washing dishes. I think this is when he realized he was really no longer in charge.

The sermon at church Sunday was on fatherhood and the pastor pointed out that when you became a parent, raising that child was now a major priority.  It was god, then family, then whatever else.  He pointed out that was no longer the norm in the US.  He said that often the child ruled the family.  "Why," he asked, "you are so much bigger."  "But Pastor, he says he hates me if I punish him."  "So?  He'll get over it!"  And he does.

I don't have the answers.  I am stumbling along blindly on advice, instinct and memory, but being there, being in charge, being willing to suffer a bit, spending time, and showing and doing instead of just telling seem to be making a difference in the way my little man behaves and I am seeing some changes that may hint at bigger things.  And it isn't just me, one of the counselors mentioned he seemed better behaved and calmer last week.  Updates later.

Start of my Day

The boy came home from school yesterday with a cardboard carton of orange juice crammed into the stretchy nylon mesh pocket of his backpack. After an intense interrogation, I was able to determine that apparently the orange juice had manifest itself into the backpack pocket sometime between boarding the bus yesterday morning and my discovering it at 7 PM that night, but he insisted he planned on drinking it. Not sure how long he had it and knowing it probably had not been refrigerated in several hours, I felt it safer to not drink it and deposited it in the garbage. He was still sleeping when I got into the shower, but was sitting innocently on the couch almost ready for school, he forgot to use deodorant or brush his teeth, when I went to wake him. When I went to start coffee, the juice carton was sitting on the kitchen counter in a pool of yellow liquid, even more battered than the previous night. A second small pool of yellow liquid was in the middle of the kitchen floor. The cardboard container had apparently defeated him. That is how the day started for me.

I Hate the US Food Industry

I'm losing weight.  I was for awhile then I seemed to stop but now I have had 3 non-related individuals mention that I seems to be losing weight.  I also have noticed that some of my pants no longer stay up without a belt and recently I can wear some shirts that before were a bit tight, while many of my comfortable shirts are now a bit too roomy.  Mostly I attribute this do my eating.  I don't eat out much, I am eating a lot of vegetables, beans and whole grains.  I have cut back on starches, red meat and dairy.  I am also again working on portion control.  But the main thing is trying to cut out processed foods, and specifically avoiding high fructose corn syrup and anything that says hydrogenated.  I don't eat a lot of sugar, but if I am going to I try for actual sugar or some other type of sweet like maple syrup, agave or honey.  Despite the massive number of commercials and websites paid for by the corn industry, I tend to believe the Princeton independent study more.  Mainly because it makes sense.  Especially if you factor in the fact the U.S. obesity problem seems to correlate with the start of the use of high fructose corn syrup instead of sugar.  This is because the government subsidy of corn let farmers sell corn at a lose, meaning the highly processed corn syrup became cheaper than cane or beat sugar.  Now it is used in everything and not just as a sweetener.  You can find it in stuff like corn chips because it is also used as a preservative.  I sort of took this for granted for a bit until this weekend when it again hit home.  I have a foster son and he has a lot of food issues.  Saturday he was griping about the pancakes I made claiming they didn't taste right.  I made the pancakes from scratch and when I told him, he freaked out.  Pancakes were supposed to come in a big box and be put in the microwave and then covered in syrup and eaten.  My pancakes consisted of flour, baking powder, eggs, milk and a little vanilla flavor and sugar.  The syrup was Lob Cabin Natural which is sweetened with sugar and soy syrup.  I had the same pancakes but drizzled a Mexican caramel sauce made with sugar and goat's milk on it rather than drenching in syrup and thought they were great.  He ate them all so couldn't have been too bad.  But he keeps complaining about stuff and I originally started by trying to gradually change things, so I bought some of the food he likes and it's all has the HFCS in it.  Most of the time it's one of the first 4 ingredients which means it's one of the main ingredients.  The canned pastas have it.  It's in the frozen pizzas and the juices he likes.  He will drink 100% apple juice fortunately.  He prefers pre-bottled drinks to mixes I do at home, even the pre_sweetened ones.  And the healthy snacks they suggested for breaks at school?  He won't eat Goldfish.  Fruit roll ups seem the best.  They contain sugar and corn syrup and dried corn syrup and partially hydrogenated cottonseed oil.  The fruit gushers are worse, they have sugar, corn syrup and dried corn syrup all as part of the first five ingredients, then they have frucose and partially hydrogenated cotton seed oil.  Four different kinds of sweetener.  The worst offender was the yogurt tubes that claimed to be low fat.  The second ingredient was sugar the forth HFCS.  There was a lot of stuff in there I can't pronounce and a little research on the internet revealed one of those tubes has more sugar than a can of Coca Cola.  Low fat, well so are soft drinks, but we don't think they are healthy.  This is nuts, no wonder we are so fat.

The Mind of a 9-year-old Boy and other Horrible Things

It's been 2 weeks now as a single foster-father of a nine-year-old boy.  It's been culture shock.  I have learned much.  First, the reason God sealed our heads shut, was because if he didn't 9 year-old boys would leave their brains on the school bus.  Why not, they don't seem to use them!  Last week, my foster son left a perfectly good red and blue light weight jacket on the school bus.  Yesterday, the bus dropped him off at my parents.  When I showed up to get him, I was jumped by an angry mother, because I let him go to school on such a cold day with no jacket.  I turned around around and asked him, "Where's your jacket?" "I didn't wear...didn't wear one today, remember?" he answered.  "You didn't wear one?" I asked innocently.  "Yeah," he said sounding more confident.  "I didn't wear one."  "Then what do you call the blue and white thing you put on when I told you to put on a jacket right before we left the house this morning?"  This caused my Dad to snicker.  "Oh, yeah, I left that in the gym."  An interrogation followed that left me with the certain knowledge that maybe the jacket had been left in the gym, he may or may not have told his teacher, who may or may not have taken him to check the lost and found."  I went into the school this morning, but no one was in the office.  I called the school today, he has a light windbreaker and a winter coat, but his two middle weight jackets are MIA.  The windbreaker may be when I get home tonight, as he wore it today.  I saw him pull it off the minute he hit the gym and sat down to wait for breakfast to be served.

He doesn't like school.  Getting homework information is like interrogating a war criminal without a waterboard.  The teacher does send stuff home, including a list of the next weeks homework assignments on Friday.  Monday he was to do 2 pages of math, I am unsure whether it was for homework or inclass.  He didn't have a handout to do and turn in, but he brought this language and science books, neither of which he had homework in.  He also brought a sheet they completed in school. It was seven questions involving science terms.  He was to have filled in the missing words.  The needed words were listed at top.  There were seven of those also.  Not too tricky.  The ugly red note said he was given 30 minutes to complete it and turned it in blank.  When he was given a second chance to do it, he completed it in 5 minutes, but all seven were wrong.  I sat him down at the kitchen table.  Turned off every electronic gadget in the house and he corrected the sheet while I made dinner.  Then he was forced to eat horrid vegetables.  He went to the bathroom twice.  I am fairly sure he was spitting out carrots and flushing them.  (The veggies weren't punishment, I ate them, they were good.  He just wants to live on junk food.)  Then homework, then valentines for the party, then putting away clean laundry and picking up dirty laundry, then he had an hour left to play video games.

Last night he brought home an empty backpack.  First time he ever carried it home empty.  Very suspicious behavior, I thought.  He claimed no homework.  I had his spelling words, so he wrote those 10 times each as I cooked dinner.  He tried to cheat and only do them 7, 8, or 9 times, so he had to finish them and write them again 5 times each.  He again tried to be sneaky.   He "finished" his vegetables and left the table, left cheek bulging.  "Where are you going?" I inquired.  "Bathroom" he answered.  "Wait a minute, please." When he turned around and looked at me I said, "Swallow first."  He did then sat back down.  I made up 20 math problems based on his last 2 homework sheets.  He did those.  Then he fixed the ones he did wrong.  Then I made up sentences with his spelling words and he wrote those out 3 times each to practice his cursive.   Then he picked up his room.  He had an hour of free time before bed.  Which meant I had 2 hours of free time before bed.  I really miss my nightly news.

He has some bad habits.  For instance, when he enters a room, he is king.  He thinks nothing of changing the TV channel regardless of who is watching it.  If he finds a show he likes he will also turn off the light to enhance his viewing pleasure, even if I am reading or writing something.  That has stopped.  He also has some eating issues.  I am told 9 year-old boys are basically walking converters of food to poop.  But this is excessive.  I no longer poke food down him when he starts this.  I allow him some snacks, but not what he is  used to.  He is being forced to eat what is put on the table.  He can have a decent serving of meat, but has to eat all the vegetables on his plate or no snacks.  I am also working with limiting his liquids between bed and supper.  He has some sleeping issues.  Last weekend I think he got up at night and spent a few hours between 11 PM and 2 AM playing games Friday night.  I had taken some cold medicine that made me sleep deeper than normal but woke a bit after 2 and caught him trying to enter the DVD code.  I know he sat up most of Saturday night watching Dragon Ball Z DVD's I got him.  I didnt' let him nap Sunday, but we had a rough Sunday night because a call from his mother gave him night terrors that didn't leave until midnight.  He slept okay Monday and Tuesday nights, at least nothing woke me and there was no evidence the next morning, I gave up on night time cold meds after Saturday night.  He lost his DVD's Sunday.  I also told him if I caught him watching TV, movies or playing games after bedtime again, all electronic stuff was poof and probably not coming back.  Previous placements have said he wandered the house at night.  I don't think he is.  I am resigned to the fact that I will be warden.  Hopefully we will bond more, he is a cute guy and can be very fun and funny when he lets himself be a kid, but that isn't often.  Hopefully, I can eventually soften the structure a bit, but it really seems to be what he needs.  He seems happy when he isn't testing the boundaries.  He had an initial habit of wanting to throw fits in public places and acting out.  He would also run off.  We established on the third day with me that I wasn't chasing him.  I told him in the middle of Walmart, "You'll either come back or you won't, and if you don't I'll come up with a good story for DSC."  He hasn't run off since.  I initially tried to reason with him him on the fits, but Saturday I just started ignoring them.  I decided it was attention seeking and rewarding it was just feeding the behavior.  Haven't had him out in public again since then so not sure if it's working or not.

Latest Update

Sorry to be late, but things began to move fast on me.  I received a call January 31 asking me if I would be willing to take a 9 year old boy, small for his age with some anger issues.  After asking a few questions and reminding them I could have conflicts, the woman I was speaking to assured me the child was from out of state.  I agreed, but they had to wait for someone else they had already asked to respond.  They called a couple of hours later to say they would call me tomorrow.  About 10 AM the next day I received a call and was told they would meet me about 5 PM.  I made it home, and about 5:30 a blond-headed boy was asking me what kind of game systems I had.  None, unfortunately.  I have since learned many things.  When I was nine, girls were lesser beings to be ignored or pushed on the playground.  He likes them.  Especially the "hot" ones.  That worries me a bit, but my more kid experienced coworkers say it isn't that unusual.  Also he hates all food except pizza, chicken nuggets, spaghetti, and cereal that looks like cookies.  He has since added hot dogs, bbq sauce, chocolate ice cream, oatmeal cookies, and beefy macaroni He hates all television except Dragon Ball Z.  Except Phineas and Ferb when no one is looking, and Kicking It, and Kick Buttowski, and Victorious, and Wizards Of Waverly Place, and Tom and Jerry Kids.  He loves school but hates all classes except lunch and recess.  He can be extremely independent but occasionally admits needing help.  He can be very well behaved one minute and totally out of control the next.  He is both cute and frustrating.  It's been five days and we are slowly adjusting to one another.

Update

Two weeks and still no decision.  My homestudy is still apparently awaiting approval by the regional administrator.  This wouldn't bother me so much, except that I keep seeing and hearing all these commercials about how much need there is for foster parents and begging people to become foster parents.  Maybe if the process didn't take six months or more......

Quick, Rant-Free Update

Well, I cleared another hurdle.  The board, whoever they are, approved my home study.  Now it is being passed to the Regional Director for approval.  If he approves, my home may be opened for foster children this week.  Will post when I can.  I also have some weird work news and a couple of rants I want to do.  Hopefully I can make the time in the next couple of days.