Today was a good day with the kiddo's in a weird sort of way. They played nicely together in the backyard, which is a miracle. We had our first appointment with a therapist who deals with some of the issues that plaque my kids. Its sad that bad things happen to kids in thier past and someone has to pick up the pieces.
I got a little teary eyed in the therapist office as I was describing my 9 year olds comment on suicide and how their life hasnt been easy. A nine year old shouldnt even be thinking anything along those lines.
My daughter when talking to the therapists said, "we cant move again". I hugged her and told her that wasnt happening. Last time they went to a therapists office, they were told that the foster family who they THOUGHT was adopting them, wasnt going to and that another family was being found. So, she was a little concerned that that was the news that was coming next. Talk about heartbreaking.....
I liked what the therapists said. She told them it was like thier feet had wheels on them, so they just kept moving around. She told them that thier wheels have been removed now. Ive never heard it put that way before, but I like it. It kind of reminded me of those shoes, "heelies", with the wheels in them. Now I will never get them a pair. Nope, no wheels on thier feet.
Honestly, I know the birth parents are mainly at fault for all this sadness and fear in the lives of these kids, BUT....the system doesnt help either. Why did my kids have to go through two sets of "adoptive" parents before we got them? It says something about the system. The first were abusive and the second were scared of the history that comes with the kids, which they claimed they knew nothing about, before they TOLD the kids they were adopting them. The birth parents broke thier hearts and the system keeps breaking them.
Our little guy, who's only problem is that he has been in sooo many homes at an early age, was asked by the therapists if he had any questions for her. He stared at her for what seemed like forever, then he said: "I love my poppy", meaning my husband. It was so sweet. I mean, that came out of the blue pretty much. Maybe for him, it wasnt out of the blue, maybe it was his own plea to not have to move again.
The rest of the day was pleasant. We went to Taco Hell and had lunch. It was incident free, it was lovely. Then we went to the park and T (my husband)had them racing each other. Then, for some reason, I was racing my daughter. Oh my, I AM SO OLD!! I thought I would let her win, but it turns out by the 2nd lap, there was no "letting" about it.
On the way home we were listening to John Lennon. My nine year old, Nick asked who was playing drums. I have no idea. The other day we were listening to White Stripes and I explained the layout of the band and said the drummer's name was Meg. Therefore I must know the name of every drummer, I guess. I love how their minds work, but I hate those questions I dont know the answer to. I guess I better get used to it.