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Family of Fruitcakes
I like to think I’m a relatively balanced person. I don’t often go streaking through the hills stark naked (it takes a lot of liquor poured down my gullet, and a warm breeze to induce me to do so) and I haven’t taken any long walks off a short plank that I can remember.
But when Shalebug passed away, there were moments I was mighty tempted. Luckily, the love of my kids, my husband and a nice merlot pulled me through my darkest hours.
I also had a little pharmaceutical help, those little miracle pills also known as antidepressants. I never had magic pills before and was skeptical of their value, but after a few months on those babies, my world slowly turned right side up and I gained the ability to not only get through the days and nights with out harming myself or others, but I was able to parent again.
A big deal when you have mouths to feed and souls to nourish. Especially after they just buried their little brother.
I don’t apologize or make excuses for my need for those little happy pills; for shit’s sake I had just walked through every parent’s nightmare. Nor do I hang my head in shame and deny my relationship with those tiny little pills from Heaven. But soon, the time came to end our relationship, and with a nervous heart I broke up with my antidepressants.
I’m not walking any planks so I must have made the right decision.
But if I had known that those tiny little pills that I so desperately clutched within my greedy fists would now be the bane of my existence, I may not have so willingly hopped on the mood medication train as quickly.
Because if you take an antidepressant and admit to it to your friendly neighbourhood adoption asshats they just may question your sanity. And send you and your family straight to the nearest shrink so he may clinically assess your personality and your parenting abilities.
All in the name of covering your bureaucratic ass.
The voices in my head are still screaming at the injustice of it all.
Yet my family and I have this driving need to expand our family and share our craziness love with some innocent and unaware child, so we strapped on our sane shoes and loaded up to jump through the hoops. (Good thing we are tall, long legged folks around here…these hoops are getting pretty high.)
I was a little nervous exposing my inner self to a stranger but that paled in comparison to the idea of letting my husband and my children talk to the psychologist and reveal our collective demons.
It would be a freaking miracle if the powers that be let me keep my kiddies, let alone hand over a new one.
So I did what any nervous momma in this situation would do: I put on my favourite death metal tee shirt for luck, poured a little Irish cream in my travel coffee cup and told everyone to stay calm, tell the truth and make sure to look the man in the eye when they spoke to him.
In my opinion it’s harder to rule a family crazy if they’re all looking at you like you are the last piece of pizza on the platter and they’re all starving.
In hindsight, we may have unnerved the dude a bit.
While he sequestered the kidlets to examine their parent’s collective crazy ratio, Boo and I nervously filled out our clinical, personality and parenting assessment examinations. Boo got off easy with only having to fill in three booklets, to the tune of about 1500 questions.
Because of my past romance with the mood meds, I got an extra booklet. And because I’m the primary parent, he tossed in two more to see how well I knew my kids. All in all, about 2300 questions where I had to fill in the appropriate circles.
Do you often think of hurting yourself? Only when it’s time to wax the beaver. Strongly disagree.
Do you ever think of hurting others? Does sitting on my mom and wanting to pull her hair until she screams for mercy constitute hurting someone? Hmmm, better put in strongly disagree just in case it’s a trick question.
Does your child intentionally annoy you? Fuck yes…But I better not tell them that. Disagree.
Do you enjoy sex? Strongly agree. Especially after last night and the things my husband did to me…
Do you think the moon, the sun and the stars shine out of your ass? Abso-freaking-lutely. Strongly agree. They’re gonna put me in a rubber room, so why not be honest about how much I love myself…
After three hours of filling in the circles (we didn’t get to finish, it took that long) the freakishly thin shrink cornered Boo and I separately to drill us about our past, our present and our future. Boo says it went fairly well for him, but all I know is that perhaps my habit of making inappropriate comments when uncomfortable was a habit I should have left at home. The poor dude couldn’t hide his horror and couldn’t write fast enough to keep up with my nervous babble.
After six hours of this, we broke for the day. And came back fresh as newly sprung tulips for round two the next morning. Since I’m fairly proficient at filling in circles, I found myself pestering the office folk who looked at me like I was some new breed of circus animal while my husband continued to scratch his head and fill in his circles.
My children were alone with that man, spilling our secrets. I have never perspired so much. At one point, to make myself them feel better, I went to the window and pressed my nose up against the glass and made funny faces to lighten their mood. The doc didn’t think that was so funny and promptly drew the blinds.
The man had no sense of ha ha.
After all was said and done and the milk was spilled, he followed us home to watch us in action as a family. Goody. No pressure or anything. The fact that I was in the middle of laundry and had left my bras and undies hanging from the rack with the door wide open for all to gaze upon shouldn’t reflect on my housekeeping skills, right? At least he knows we where clean undies.
He also discovered I like black lace until Boo quickly shut the door.
We shared a nice meal with the pleasant, if not sickly thin, psychologist. He observed our lack of table manners and my children thought it would be great fun to tell him about the time I locked myself out of the house in the dead of the winter, or the time I lost my daughter in the mall, or the time I wasn’t paying attention and the hundred pound wagon ran them both over, thereby sending both of the little ankle biters to the emergency room for stitches.
All the while he sat there and wrote everything down.
As my husband sweated bullets and I gave them the evil-mom look, willing them to shut the fuck up. Which they either didn’t notice or they didn’t care.
Most likely they didn’t care. Buggers.
Finally, after two days of poking, prodding and blatantly judging, he walked out of our lives with our family summed up on a pad of yellow legal paper.
Boo had to all but sit on me to not snatch that pad of paper out from under his arm and run screaming into the bushes with it.
This was it. The last hurdle to jump in our bid for adoption. He will either stamp us a bunch of fruitcakes or give the go ahead to ruin some unknown kiddy’s life and place said child with us.
It’s out of our hands and in his now. Even my favorite adoption asshats can’t do a sweet thing about it. They will have to rubber stamp us either approved or denied.
Until that day rolls around, I’m going to bask in my fruitcake status and not worry about whether or not we get a new kiddy. Because I already have the best kids, and they are just like me.
Slightly nutty.
August 12th, 2007 at 10:49 am
I’ve been thinking about you. I’m glad this part is over. How invasive. I hope they can pull their heads out of their asses and approve this thing.
August 12th, 2007 at 10:54 am
I cannot believe they are putting you through all this to give a deserving child a loving home when Britney Spears just pops them out and no one seems to care. I sort of wish my mother in law was put through such testing before she was allowed to adopt my husband. He might have had a much better life.
Best of luck to you all. I know you’re family has been through so much you really deserve more happiness by the bucket loads.
August 12th, 2007 at 10:54 am
I’m a bit appalled that they even question the fact that a mom who lost a child was taking anti-depressants. I can understand the CYA part of it, but still….
Fabulous picture! And if that’s what the psych dude saw, he’d have to be crazy himself not to approve y’all. Who doesn’t need a little more laughter in their lives? Or a few more stitches?
Fingers crossed!
August 12th, 2007 at 10:56 am
Hopefully he has a heart and a brain in that briefcase too.
August 12th, 2007 at 10:56 am
I think he will stamp you 100% filled with love (and nuts).
And as per doing what “any nervous momma in this situation would do: I put on my favourite death metal tee shirt for luck, poured a little Irish cream in my travel coffee cup” - I don’t know how I could love reading your posts any more than I did but after this, I do.
August 12th, 2007 at 11:18 am
crazy, but cute.
August 12th, 2007 at 11:23 am
My best friend just finished jumping through some similar hoops. It is so effing invasive but it sounds like you handled it with humour and smarts. You are one hot crazy chick and any kid would be lucky to join your family. I hope that skiny guy is smart enough to see what is so obvious.
August 12th, 2007 at 11:27 am
Best of luck with the adoption process! I would love to have you as a Mama!
I’m a new reader, so I’ve been reading your other blog, too. I am so sorry for the loss of your beautiful little boy.
*hugs*
August 12th, 2007 at 11:29 am
Surprised he didn’t want to spend the night sleeping between you and Boo.
I hope they give you another beautiful soul to tarnish. You’re so worth it!
August 12th, 2007 at 12:39 pm
LOVE THE PICTURE…
And if they seriously decided not to approve an adoption based on the fact that you needed anti-depressants after LOSING A CHILD….. then they are insane, and have obviously never had to go through anything REMOTELY as traumatic as you have…
You inspire me with your strength…. I’d even trust you with my kids! (Well, maybe for a few hours, if I was in the other room). HEH.
August 12th, 2007 at 12:52 pm
Gah, T. I got a headache just reading about all you had to go through!
I’m sure you did great and I am thinking of you and your beautiful family. I’m sure you’ll have another little one there intentionally annoying you before too long!
August 12th, 2007 at 1:31 pm
Only you could make something so unjust and aggravating seem so funny. Everyone I know is on antidepressants. It’s not like that makes you crazy (especially when you had such a clear reason for taking them in the first place).
I’m crossing my fingers that all goes well. Even if you are a bunch of fruitcakes - hopefully the adoption asshats see that you are loving fruitcakes who any child would be lucky to live with.
August 12th, 2007 at 2:01 pm
I’ll save my disdain for said man and the testers (or testes hehe) to say that they would be fools not to place a child with you.
I never understood, particularly when it comes to children with special needs, how they can make people go through such rigamarole while those kids sit, parentless, waiting.
I mean. I understand the rigamarole in theory. But cripey. Enough already!
August 12th, 2007 at 4:32 pm
The things they make you do to adopt a kid burns my ass. Anyone can pop one out and collect a welfare cheque.
God firbid we allow a healthy, NORMAL family - that wants to adopt a special needs kid - do so without months of redtape.
I love the picture and think they’re asshats if they don’t let you have a kid.
Fingers and toes crossed for you guys.
August 12th, 2007 at 4:33 pm
i love fruitcakes. and i know you rocked it. i just know it.
August 12th, 2007 at 5:08 pm
I lovelovelove your new picture up there in the corner!
What they have put you through is ridiculous. What’s more, it is sad that I am unsurprised.
The other week, here in the US, a mom was kicked off of an airplane because her 20-month-old boy wouldn’t stop saying, “Bye bye, plane” as it prepared to take off.
Puh-leez. Have we all gone totally loco?
August 12th, 2007 at 5:21 pm
Slightly nutty is the best kind of family.
August 12th, 2007 at 5:45 pm
Slightly nutty is the new black, dude.
August 12th, 2007 at 7:04 pm
Hopefully that man will realize that the nuttier the person the better the parent. Well, the good nutty kind, not the bat shit crazy kind. Ahem.
August 12th, 2007 at 7:11 pm
You are one tough hen.
You’re going to be great. You aren’t fooling anyone - we know you have a heart the size of the Atlantic Ocean, and just as deep. Any child would be happy in your home.
Thinking about you guys and sending all my good vibes.
August 12th, 2007 at 7:15 pm
Um, yes. Aren’t we all a little nuts? (That picture is rad. Good luck!)
August 12th, 2007 at 8:05 pm
That is so much work!! Glad it’s over, and I’m hoping you get that new kiddie! The ones you have are pretty cute!!!
August 12th, 2007 at 8:24 pm
I’m sure he saw you as a fairly normal family. No family is perfect - it’s the ones who make no mistakes at all - a Stepford family - that you worry about, right?
Hope the rubber stamp of approval comes soon!
August 12th, 2007 at 9:20 pm
How long until they let you know? Is there enough Irish Cream in your coffee cup to make it until that time comes????
I am crossing everything for you, T. Everything.
August 12th, 2007 at 9:20 pm
I’m glad the meds worked for you…and again, why aren’t biological parents held to the same standard. However…as a sufferer of clinical depression since I was 26…and the mother of two children…I have to respectfully suggest the avoidance of terms like “happy pills” for antidepressants. In your case, your depression was situational and you will probably never need them again. But in mine and millions of others’s cases, antidepressants do not make us happy, make us high, keep us from feeling sadness or confirm our craziness. They are as essential to us as insulin is to a diabetic.
If you met me and I didn’t tell you, you would never believe that I suffer from depression. I am outgoing, high-energy and always smiling. So I have actually gone to great lengths to talk to people about my illness so maybe they will stop being judgmental about depression…equating it with a weakness rather than a chemical imbalance. I keep thinking if we called it something with a cool acronym like NSD (neurological synaptic disorder), people would be so much more receptive to understanding it.
I don’t jump on bloggers for not being “politically correct”…but in this instance I feel compelled to just make that clarification about antidepressants.
For a wonderful book to help Moms and others understand depression and how it affects one’s family, I recommend The Ghost in the House: Motherhood, Raising Children, and Struggling with Depression by Tracy Thompson (Maternally Challenged is her blog: http://maternallychallenged.typepad.com/maternally_challenged/). It helped me to get over the guilt of my children having to deal with my illness and taught me that them seeing me fight it and overcome it will probably make them less susceptible to it themselves…or at least likely to seek treatment before hitting rock bottom.
You know I love your blog…so please don’t take my comment as any kind of criticism…just a public service announcement from your local loony mom!!! And now all the Moms who are reading this are thinking…OMG, those happy, productive, energetic Moms might have a mental illness!!! Now what am I going to do? Add that to the list of questions…do you have live ammo out on your coffee table? has your dog ever bitten someone to where you can see the bone? are you currently taking any psychotropic drugs?…of course, that’s usually followed by, “Can I have some?????”
Oh…and just for the record…if they ever do truly come out with a “happy pill” I will be first in line!!!
August 12th, 2007 at 9:23 pm
I really want to laugh at all your funnies, but I’m still stuck on being pissed off about the implied negative judgment based on your antidepressant use. It’s the fear of that sort of judgment that kept me from seeking help until I got to the point where I figured I couldn’t feel any worse, so judgment be damned.
Wait ’til I get a little bigger and I will come sit on that toothpick shrink. And I’ll do it whether he marks you sane or nutty.
August 12th, 2007 at 11:31 pm
Di, there was never any intent to insult or demean any person who used, or uses antidepressants. It was tongue in cheek, and trust me, my sanity depended on those meds whether they were called happy pills, anti-depressants or fucking smarties. Just because my depression was situational did not make it any less difficult and debilitating to deal with.
The mere suggestion from my adoption case workers to infer that because I sought help and took medication to help deal with a medical issue, I may not make a fit parent boggles my mind and chaps my ass. Hence this post.
Thank you for taking the time to correct any misuse of the term “happy pill”, I certainly meant no disrespect. As I stated in my post, I make no apologies or excuses for using pharmaceutical aides and I have no stigma towards those that do.
Having grown up with a clinically depressed mother and sister, I have a long history and relationship with antidepressants and dealing with depression as a daily fact of life and I often forget that my flippancy may cause others to wince at my tongue-in cheek attitude.
I would like to note that I also deal with my son’s disabilities and health issues with the same cheeky attitude, it is how I deal with what life throws at me.
This post was not intended in any way to start a debate over the correct terminology of antidepressants, or malign a much misunderstood illness; just a way for me to blow off steam and vent over my frustration over the adoption process while being as politically incorrect as I normally am.
August 13th, 2007 at 3:15 am
I recently found your blog. I just cannot for the life of me understand the hoops people go through to adopt.
I admire your strength to tell people that you took the “happy pills”.
I admire the fact that you are so open about losing Shalebug.
May God bless !
August 13th, 2007 at 4:17 am
I can’t imagine them NOT approving you. With all the horrible parents out there, your family deserves to have a child!!!
August 13th, 2007 at 4:26 am
I tried to send you good vibes and energy….sounds like you needed it. They would be complete fuckers if they didn’t approve you. Doesn’t every kid (with good parents and bad)…need stitches every now and then?!?!?!
Please keep us posted…and I’m still praying!
August 13th, 2007 at 5:21 am
Congrats on clearing the final hurdle. It doesnt really matter what was said to him or what he wrote down. Observing a happy well adjusted family is what matters.
With those, you are a lock for approval.
Ok, maybe just the happy part.
August 13th, 2007 at 5:21 am
I am keeping my fingers crossed for you, hon. No wonder more women who are suffering from situational depression (hmm, like post-partum?) don’t seek medical attention and treatment, pills or no pills.
After hearing all of this, now I know why people go south of the border and adopt kids.
August 13th, 2007 at 7:06 am
Fingers crossed hon.
I can’t believe what they’re putting you through.
August 13th, 2007 at 7:16 am
I’ve been a silent lurker here on your site for awhile but I just wanted you to know that I’m crossing all my little fingers and toes for you. I hope you get the good news you hope for (and soon)!!!
August 13th, 2007 at 8:03 am
I hate it when people condemn the use of anti-depressants, without considering the situation. Narrow-minded buncha jerks. I wish they could read this post.
I don’t know you personally, of course, but from your writing I would say that anyone would be crazy not to want to be a part of your family.
August 13th, 2007 at 8:06 am
I believe you will make a fabulous adoptive parent. If they decide otherwise, they are the crazy ones.
I’m sure you have been inundated with adoption stories, although, with hubby being adopted and my SIL having just gone through the process (here is their site) it’s near and dear to my heart.
You go, girl!!
August 13th, 2007 at 8:07 am
oh, it didn’t show…..
http://www.thecakefamily.com/Adoption/home.htm
August 13th, 2007 at 9:31 am
“Well, Mr Gunfighter, do you ever think of hurting people?”
“Sure, Doc, everyf fuckin’ day. What?, you missed that part on the application where it asked for my occupation?”
T,
If they don’t approve you, just let me know… the Doc and I will…. talk.
August 13th, 2007 at 10:12 am
Sorry if this posts twice…have dial up in this neck of the woods and it kicked me off twice while trying to submit. Dem der Yooper ISPs and all….
Greetings from da Great U.P. of Michigan! I have been reading your blog for quite some time and wanted to ‘come out’ of Lurkesville and give my support. Those ‘fill in the circle to find out if you are truly a human and not a sociapathic alien from planet Schizoid’ assessments are maddening….to the point that when I had to fill them out for my son I felt the urge to screw with the ‘tests’ just to see what would happen and answer them all farked up…yet resisted that urge. Probably for the best considering my luck with mental health establishments and the fact that most people in that profession have no sense of humor at.freaking.all. I just laughed at the questions and the answers I wanted to put. Yeah…I cracked myself up to the point I was giggling out loud in the office and was pretty sure the assessment from my behavior alone would be that my son didn’t need help- I did. On the anti-depressant note…your tongue in cheek style should be expected and quite frankly, desired! WHY DO WE ALL KEEP COMING BACK TO READ ABOUT YOUR LIFE? I guess I go by the ‘Click on, change the channel, put down the paper, or hang up when you feel offended’ rule. You make me laugh….hysterically…and I am sure I am not alone on that one…but anyone could find something that applies to their life that you satirically throw out there with a ~OH SNAP No she SO did not just write that OUT.LOUD.~ I mean COME ON. Look at your life and what you have been through..how hard you have worked to get where you are at. You state yourself beautifully and selflessly with the wit and grace of a hyena. “Fucking smarties”- brilliant! My son is on anti-depressants. He is SEVEN. I took no offense by any means to your name calling of the *little saviors* in a bottle. He is special education certified as Emotionally Impaired and it is not funny nor is it easy, especially because I am on my own with my kids…but LIFE is ridiculously full of opportunities to chuckle and when I get to the point that I can’t laugh at it or find a way to deal with the hurdles in a healthy way, I might as well just get a tattoo on my forehead that reads “Perpetual Misery- Hop on My Hell Train.” Your writing is one of those things that reassures me I am not the only one out there that uses humor to deal and keep my sanity. Keep writing however the hell you want to because this is your blog and if you just take a look-see at your posts all the way back to the first one, it is clear that you have found your therapy. You do it quite beautifully too….and bring a bit of tear jerking laughter (and real poke in the nose sobbing tears at times) to those of us out here that can appreciate finding strength in humor and also in keeping it real. KEEP IT UP and you don’t need to ’splain nothin to nobody’ about the how and why of what you state! But by God, you better not write anything about eating disorders or being admitted into mental hospitals because I will be all over your Canadian ass. That would be just plain insensitive to my past struggles. Right. Rock on lady. Irish cream and coffee over ice. We call it the morning ‘go juice’ where I come from. It makes dealing with my yard apes just that much easier on a Saturday morning. Good luck to you and your family. Not that you need luck at all. You have it together~way together.
-Robin
August 13th, 2007 at 10:31 am
Geez…. they are really sticking it to you, meanwhile kiddo’s are in limbo waiting for homes. Asshats. I got a migraine reading through that, I can’t imagine the one you got having to actually jump through the hoops.
My best wishes, as always.. not to worry to much I don’t think… your a sweet kinda crazy, they’ll see that.
August 13th, 2007 at 10:54 am
Wow. Just ran across our blog (I think I googled “inner freak” and it took me here - haha) and love your humor and poignancy. Hope it’s ok I linked you off my blog.
August 13th, 2007 at 11:41 am
I’d be more concerned if the kids didn’t ‘fess up to their parents screw-ups at all. You’ve got some honest, open, well-adjusted kids there, in my opinion.
But then maybe your radiance just has me dazzled and I can’t see much else beyond that (let’s hope the skinny guy feels the same way).
I’ve heard about that policy on antidepressants before and it smells like a band-aid solution and/or an ass-coverer to me.
August 13th, 2007 at 12:20 pm
As LawyerMama said, I’m also appalled that they would question the use of antidepressants by a mom who lost a child. Getting and taking antidepressants to deal with depression, whether situational or genetic, should be considered a positive step one takes toward helping oneself — not a weakness. The fact that a psychologist in particular would take issue with this seems hypocritical to me. I wish you all the best in the adoption process. You’ve certainly worked hard to get through all this scrutiny, and I couldn’t think of a more appropriate, loving and hardy parent for a disabled child. *hugs*
August 13th, 2007 at 12:46 pm
I totally get where you’re coming from with the anti-depressant issue. Not that it’s the same AT ALL, but when I went through post partum depression with my son I refused to tell my doctor that I was depressed because I was afraid people would label me as “crazy” and take away my son.
(thank god for a good doctor who got me to explain all of that to her and then helped me through it)
Dealing with something through medication is so normal - and I would argue that you were a better parent by saying you needed the help - be it in a pill form or counseling or both.
The fact that that could possibly hinder you is ridiculous. But, I’m guessing maybe it’s a bit of a protocol issue?
Regardless it pisses me off.
I don’t know you personally, but from all you write it’s so clear how kind and loving a parent you are. Hopefully that shone through.
August 13th, 2007 at 1:55 pm
Oh God. That’s enough to MAKE ME nutty.
But damn it all, T. Regardless of the hoop-jumping, I think it will be just fine. By now, they’ll have to have seen your heart, and that, my dear, is beautiful. Some little kidlet out there is about to learn what it is like to be loved unconditionally, and I can’t wait to hear all about it.
August 13th, 2007 at 2:03 pm
I can’t even imagine what my kids would come up with under the microscope. Lordy!
I’m sorry they put you through so much. I’m hopeful/sure that once they dot all the i’s and such, you will be good to go. Who could resist such an adorable bunch of goofballs? (And a momma wise enough to know when to get help after a tremendous loss. Hats off to you lady.)
August 13th, 2007 at 2:23 pm
Ok, the image of you snatching the pad and running screaming in to the bushes sent me in to fits of laughter. Because I really could see you doing it. Or wait a minute, I could see myself doing that if I were in the very same situation.
T, I think you get mad props for dealing with the whole process in the manner you did. It’s got to have been very stressful and intense.
Thank goodness for blogs and being able to vent!
Oh and did you change your haircolor ?
August 13th, 2007 at 4:22 pm
Holy CRAP!! It makes my head hurt just thinking about all those forms and scrutiny. I think you did great in awful circumstances.
August 13th, 2007 at 5:49 pm
I love fruitcake. And I love antidepressants. OK so I never had either. But I do love the stories about your family. I know you’ll get the green light on the adoption — who couldn’t love you?
August 13th, 2007 at 10:47 pm
Oh. My. God. I have spent an hour reading your blog laughing and crying my eyes out. You are amazing, hilarious, and have strength I can only hope I would have in a similar situation. You are my inspiration!
Very best of luck to you and your family. I truly hope you get the little kiddy you are wishing for!! But if you don’t, would you consider adopting me??
August 14th, 2007 at 3:35 am
I bet that scrawny wisp of a man left your house a bit bigger, standing taller simply from being in your presence.
You, my dear, rule the world. Of course he will approve you and your family. How could he not?
August 14th, 2007 at 4:05 am
Personally the black lace and the great sex answer should have put you over the top!
however, in case the Pencil Neck takes his time, we have our fingers crossed.
Best Wishes!
August 14th, 2007 at 4:05 am
I’m sure it will all work out!
August 14th, 2007 at 7:34 am
Sounds like good ‘ol family fun to me.
I am sure he sees through your thinly veiled attemps at fruitcakiness. Bring on the rubber stamp!
August 17th, 2007 at 1:38 am
Reckon they’d accept a bunch of references from your blog readers? What do you mean you didn’t tell them about this blog?? Chicken…!!
Where’s that rubber room, I mean, rubber stamp?