Saturday, December 12, 2009

Sucking at Life

I don't think I really think I suck at life, but I feel like it. This has been a real emotional week for me. For once it's not horse related. Monday one of my kiddos came in with really weird marks on his eyes. He said he didn't feel really well. I showed one of my assistants this little guys face and asked her what she thought it was from. She thought it looked like the marks that people can get when they are asphyxiated. I was shocked and thought she was crazy. Who would do that to a little boy? I asked him how his weekend was and he said it was fine. I took pictures of his eyes, and decided to call foster mom (you read that right, foster mom) to ask her about his weekend. She told me that some "crazy lady" got "pissed" at him at church and jumped on him. She continued to tell me that he said he stopped breathing, but she wasn't sure because she walked away. This my friends is the hardest part of my job. What I wanted to say: YOU ARE A FUCKING MORON WHO WAS ENTRUSTED TO KEEP THIS LITTLE BOY SAFE. What I said through a clutched jaw, "Have you contacted his Social Worker?"

A little background on "my" little guy. He is only 7 and has been through 6 foster homes in a year. He is not an easy kid and anytime I mention something crazy that happens in my classroom it is probably him. He is the one who wrapped himself around my knee and hurt me. He's thrown glue at me, hit me, bit me, punched me, thrown all bodily by products at me, but through it all I love him more than anything. He reminds me so much of some horses I have known. I know that SOUNDS INSANE, but think about it? He's never been treated nicely by any human being. He's spent 7 years being beaten and neglected. He needs to know what a loving home is and I can tell you from conversations I've had with foster mom (we refer to her as his "handler") he wasn't get that from her. I could write a whole other blog just on him.

Back to Monday. I walked out of my office, picked him up and just started crying. I couldn't help it. My kids asked me what was wrong, and I told them I was just sad because I was getting so old. They bought it. I couldn't believe this lady! I asked him how Church was on Sunday, and he said, "I didn't go to church." I wasn't surprised. He loved his foster mom, and didn't want to get in trouble. A little while later, during Math, he said to me, "Have you ever stopped breathing?" No, of course not, but I didn't know what to say to him to make him feel normal. I knew from his social worker this wasn't the first time he's been choked. I asked him why he was asking me and he proceeded to tell me the story of church. How he was mad at this lady and kicked her, and how she jumped on him and pinned him to the ground with her knee. He told me how he saw his foster mom walk away and that was all he remembered.

I walked back into my office and called his social worker,her supervisor, my supervisor, and then CPS.

Wednesday, I found out that he was being removed from the home. I was so happy for him to be away from such a horrible woman. Then I found out that the new foster home was 75 miles away. I'm so upset. My husband, who is a WONDERFUL MAN, gave me the go ahead to try to get the paperwork in order to foster. We don't want children. Not anytime soon, Denali is enough of a financial (trying to think of a word to go here...burden?)

Thursday I found out that the paperwork wouldn't be through fast enough. The social workers supervisor tried to get the paperwork through, but it would still be about two weeks with all the holidays. He needed to be out of the home by Monday. On Thursday he asked me if he was a horrible boy. I asked him why he said that. Guess who told him that? I told him she was a liar and there was no such thing as a horrible boy. We talked about life and what he wants to be when he grows up. He told me he wants to be a dentist.....right after he's a murder. Sigh.

Friday we made gingerbread houses and watched Toy Story. It was a good day. I didn't have the heart to tell him he's leaving his school too. It's going to kill me on Monday to tell him it's his last day. His social worker asked us to wait.

My husband and I are still filling out the paperwork to be a respite home for him. That way we can go and visit him. In reality he should be in a residential treatment center. He needs 24/7 consistency and predictability. Mostly, he needs love. He can't trust anyone. He trusts me which I think is what kills me so much. He's made so much progress in the few months we've had him.

Today hubby and I went Christmas shopping for him. We wanted to make sure he has something to open on Christmas, and we're not sure if his foster family will do anything for him. I've met two kinds of foster parents, AMAZING and those who are in it for the money. (ONLY MY OPINION!) I really hope this one is amazing. He needs amazing. He needs a miracle !! We got him some clothes, a stuffed Lion (to remind him to be brave) and another little toy. I heard that song "I'll be home for Christmas" and started to bawl. PMS much? But still, I feel so bad for him.

Okay... enough of my ramblings. If you've gotten this far thank you. Maybe think good thoughts for this little guy.

3 comments:

whisper_the_wind said...

And when he turns 18, he gets $100 and a 'see ya' from the state. We are creating our own cultural failure.

I see the older version in my college classrooms. Those that have survived enough to make it this far, and those that are producing the children you have to deal with.

I also have those that want to protect the children, several (like you) go through hell trying to protect the little ones, many times ending up in court at the abuse trials.

There must be a solution...

Mrs Mom said...

Oh man alive.... I'll sure be praying like crazy for you and your hubby, and this little man. Wish there was something we could do to help y'all out too. My husband and I have two boys, 15 months apart, and they are our Treasure, our Life, and our Absolute JOY. It tears our hearts out knowing that things like this happen to little guys.

Maybe there will be a Christmas Miracle- thats what I am praying for.

Rachel said...

I'm often accused of being heartless... but I am crying. Its not PMS its the shitty reality. You sound like an amazing person who is making a difference in this little boy's life. You should be proud. Many people would turn a blind eye and you stepped up!