I've had lots to think about recently. Lots of random stuff really. Regarding different issues that have come up. The only thing in common with all these issues is that children are involved somehow.
I'm no longer objective about children. Or about issues involving children. I have found it is impossible to be objective after what has happened to us.
And I can't be "calm" any more either. Really. I just get impatient and angry.
People are just so incredibly stupid sometimes. It drives me into a rage.
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Like the cases of cholera which have popped up in Haiti. That was written on the cards wasn't it. Like the whole developed world knew it was just a matter of time. But it still happened.
And then I think, why are there still kids without families in Haiti? Why haven't they all been adopted out of the country? There are hundreds (if not thousands) of families around the world who would want to give one of these children a home? Why are they still there?
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I read recently about a ten year old who wanted to kill herself.
She'd been living in an unsuitable family home, then fostered in various unsuitable homes, until finally the relevant authorities decided she was eligible for adoption, and no longer able to return to her familial home.
Why does this happen? Why was she kept in an unsuitable familial home for as long as she was? How did she end up in (abusive) unsuitable foster homes?
How can it be that a ten year wants to commit suicide?
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Why is it that many countries now believe that it's more important for children to remain in a "culturally appropriate" environment, which may be unsuitable in many ways, rather than placing those children in safe, but culturally different, families.
Isn't it more important for a child to feel loved, to be supported, to feel safe, to develop self confidence, to get enough food, to receive medical care when needed, to go to school? Aren't these things so much more important than "cultural appropriateness"?
Children in many developing countries are stuck in orphanages because their governments don't feel that it's appropriate for them to be adopted out to different cultures. Some governments (including those of developed countries) believe that it's more important for a child to be in a culturally appropriate home, even if the child remains at risk, than be placed in a different cultural environment.
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I have HUGE problems with this. ENORMOUS problems.
Sure, cultural differences are an issue. But surely they are less of an issue than physical and/or emotional abuse? Surely cultural issues rank lower than proper education, medical care, nourishment, love, support, all those things??
What on earth are people thinking?
Adoptions and long-term fostering come with their own problems. I know. I've seen issues which arise. But I've also seen fabulously successful adoptions - including cross cultural ones.
Isn't it always better for a child to be able to receive the best care, as much love as it requires, and as many options for the future?
Isn't that all more important than keeping a child in an appropriate cultural environment???
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I have a real life friend who has two young children. Her oldest is the same age as Freyja should be, and her youngest was born six months after Jet was born and died.
She is so sloppy when it comes to looking after her children. Seriously. Her children were bottle-fed (which I have no issues with as I bottle-fed Kees), but the bottles were never sterilised and she used water out of the tap (directly out of the tap) to fill them. She feeds her youngest straight out of the pot and wipes yucky bits (the bits her youngest won't eat) into the bin. Directly on the bin liner, from the spoon, and then sticks the spoon back into the baby's mouth. For real. When we go for walks, the chances are her oldest will run on to the road, and she won't notice until she is already on the road. This will happen several times. Anyway, I could go on and on. But I won't. It drives me mad. I can't stand it.
When my friend rings me, she always says how everything is going along as usual. I sometimes wonder if she even considers that her usual is very different from our usual. I doubt it.
It was her husband's birthday recently, and she'd been up for most of the night with their youngest. So when he woke (on his birthday) he got both the kids up and gave them breakfast. When she got up she was surprised that he had done this and immensely grateful (he doesn't do much). She said to me that it must have been the worst start to his birthday for him. I said that it wasn't, and that a worse start was waking up on your birthday and realising your children were all dead. She was completely shocked and speechless.
Typical.
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And FB. FB is driving me nuts. Completely.
I cannot stand it that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, puts their kids lives on their status updates. I mean, seriously, I do not want to know or need to know how many times a mother got out of bed at night because her child had reflux. Really.
Maybe I'll start updating everyone on Blair's movements at night.
Doesn't anyone have anything else to say?
I mean, what do people say on FB if they don't have (living) kids? What??
I am so over FB. Every time someone writes something about their living kids, I feel like responding by writing about my dead kids. But then people would think it was "inappropriate". I fail to see why. My kids are dead. Nothing will ever change that. So just because it makes other people feel sad or down, I shouldn't say anything.
I guess I'll just keep "blocking" the kids updates. And write about Blair instead.
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And don't even get me started about the proposed asylum-seeker accommodation in Inverbrackie, South Australia. Asylum-seekers who have a legal right to be there whilst they are going through the legal application process. And for a change, the government is doing something positive by wanting to get these people into a "community" environment instead of some camp in the outback.
Don't. Get. Me. Started.
As my husband says, in general, people are supportive of all this stuff. Supportive of those less fortunate than them, except when it happens in their back yard.
N.I.M.B.Y.'s he calls them. Not. In. My. Back. Yard.
N.I.M.B.Y.s. Perfect.
Don't get me started.
