Plaster it on my forehead... We aren't normal.
Sometimes I really wish we could just have a big flashing sign over us that says something like "These kids are in foster care, beware of weird comments." Or "Foster parent coming, approach with caution." Or even, "Don't look at us, we're foster parents, you have no idea what we do and you'll never understand." It would perhaps be easier to have a sign like this following us around than it is to deal with the odd looks, the random comments, the whispers of disapproval as we walk away. I'm sure that some of these things are over exaggerations in my head. I am sure that these things feel more obvious than they are. Oh, I'm not making it totally up. A trip to the store with our 7 year old, and you'll totally understand what I am saying. I dare ya to do it!
Social immaturity is so hard to explain and so hard for people to understand. While our child is developmentally on track with where she should be and educationally on track, emotionally and socially I might as well be dealing with a pre-schooler. The problem with that though is that for so long she has been treated like an adult and been privy to adult conversations that she thinks she knows all of the inner workings of the adult world while not having a clue about how any of it really works. Simple processes like grocery shopping are very overwhelming and make odd behaviors come out. Eating at a sit down restaurant is such a chore because there is no prior knowledge of how to behave. We have one screaming toddler because he is "all done" and ready to run around and a screaming seven year old because she wants to make sure everyone can hear her. She's convinced everything she says is a novel concept and the smartest thing anyone has ever heard. Privacy? No concept. If people are around they must be there for a reason. That reason is to pay attention to her! I must say use your inside voice 15 times while we are out. Because she has truly grown up in American poverty she does not understand basic concepts of social interaction and inner societal workings. If frustrating. It's exhausting. It's emotionally draining. Trying to explain the social immaturity to our family and friends who are supportive is difficult enough, explaining it to complete strangers, forget it.
You see the thing is we LOOK normal. We are currently all one color. (Not that being different colors isn't normal.) Our kids look enough a like that they could pass as siblings. Our kids ages fit with the ages of Tony and I. To the complete stranger viewing us we seem to be like any other family. We are so far from it. How do you explain to a waitress that the reason your child doesn't have a clue what you are asking her about is because of the fact that she doesn't really understand what your job is? How do you explain to the people sitting around you that the reason I have had to answer the same question three times to a seven year old that she should have learned since she was three is because she has a vast hole of social experiences? You can't. You don't. You just shut up and secretly cringe on the inside while putting on your movie star smile on the outside and calmly dealing with the behavior in the moment. It's a daily struggle, but we make it through.
I really do need a t-shirt or sweatshirt or a bright pink hat that says something like; "We're Foster Parents. Don't judge us, just accept what we do doesn't make sense. We're trying to help kids heal."
Social immaturity is so hard to explain and so hard for people to understand. While our child is developmentally on track with where she should be and educationally on track, emotionally and socially I might as well be dealing with a pre-schooler. The problem with that though is that for so long she has been treated like an adult and been privy to adult conversations that she thinks she knows all of the inner workings of the adult world while not having a clue about how any of it really works. Simple processes like grocery shopping are very overwhelming and make odd behaviors come out. Eating at a sit down restaurant is such a chore because there is no prior knowledge of how to behave. We have one screaming toddler because he is "all done" and ready to run around and a screaming seven year old because she wants to make sure everyone can hear her. She's convinced everything she says is a novel concept and the smartest thing anyone has ever heard. Privacy? No concept. If people are around they must be there for a reason. That reason is to pay attention to her! I must say use your inside voice 15 times while we are out. Because she has truly grown up in American poverty she does not understand basic concepts of social interaction and inner societal workings. If frustrating. It's exhausting. It's emotionally draining. Trying to explain the social immaturity to our family and friends who are supportive is difficult enough, explaining it to complete strangers, forget it.
You see the thing is we LOOK normal. We are currently all one color. (Not that being different colors isn't normal.) Our kids look enough a like that they could pass as siblings. Our kids ages fit with the ages of Tony and I. To the complete stranger viewing us we seem to be like any other family. We are so far from it. How do you explain to a waitress that the reason your child doesn't have a clue what you are asking her about is because of the fact that she doesn't really understand what your job is? How do you explain to the people sitting around you that the reason I have had to answer the same question three times to a seven year old that she should have learned since she was three is because she has a vast hole of social experiences? You can't. You don't. You just shut up and secretly cringe on the inside while putting on your movie star smile on the outside and calmly dealing with the behavior in the moment. It's a daily struggle, but we make it through.
I really do need a t-shirt or sweatshirt or a bright pink hat that says something like; "We're Foster Parents. Don't judge us, just accept what we do doesn't make sense. We're trying to help kids heal."
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