One of the other intriguing comments on my blog about our children’s privacy was from “Scraps” who said:

When I was growing up we knew of a few foster/adoptive families. They were always "a little weird", and provided much fodder for judgmental conversation. As a child, I was unaware how unkind and ignorant those conversations were. Now I have no doubt that we are the "weird family" who provides plenty of gossip fodder.

Yep…me too Scraps…similar childhood experiences. Again, adoption was talked about with a whisper, as if it was “bad” and “shameful”. Something must be wrong with those parents and wrong with those kids.

I’ll readily admit that I couldn’t be a foster parent. I knew this from the start, and it’s further confirmed by the stories I hear about the trials and tribulations of dealing with social services. There is not enough money on this planet to pay good foster parents for doing what they do so well. (I found the idea of calling them foster carers, as Kelly blogged about, very thought-provoking.)

So, here we are again…we’ve been hit with a double-whammy of torch-bearing. If you are the adoptive or foster parent of a child with disabilities, who just got a dose of “double weird”.

As Scraps so aptly noted – being in this position is NOT for the faint of heart or the thin of skin. But the truth be told, we’re all too faint of heart or thin-skinned for this plight…at least in the beginning.

I’ll admit that for the first few years of parenting LuLu I wanted to crawl under a rock more times than I can remember. I even made some parenting mistakes in the way I reacted to LuLu’s behaviors based on my own embarrassment and desire to be viewed differently by others. I wanted other families to like us. I wanted to fit in. I wanted to do “normal” things with our “normal” friends. And…as I found out over time…we’re anything but normal…we’re double weird.

So, what do we do? Well, we can go crawl under that rock and withdraw, further isolating ourselves. And, in many ways, this is easier. But I don’t know about you…I get lonely under the rock. So, I think we have to do two things. The first is find a circle of support and as many “safe havens” as we can.

In a way, adoptionblogs.com is one of those safe havens. Sure there are people with many different points of view, including some who comment who are anti-adoption. But for the most part, the bloggers and the readers are all part of that “weird” community of adoptive and foster families. And it’s a safe place to explore what that means.

The second thing to do is to put yourself…and your family…out there as much as you are able (oops, now you have to decide where to draw the lines around privacy). Depending on how strong your heart is or thick your skin becomes, you will be able to do this in certain situations. Otherwise, how will the world learn they need to change their opinion of those of us who are doubly weird? You can’t change your opinion of someone you’ve never met.

In my last blog I told you about growing up in a community with one boy who had Down’s Syndrome. When I was 16, I volunteered to serve as a camp counselor at a camp for developmentally disabled children. I had no idea what I was getting into. I was the cabin counselor for four girls ranging in age from 13-16 (my same age at the time). All had Down’s Syndrome – and it was the first time I had heard the term. It was a life-changing experience for me, and in hindsight a weird foreshadowing of my life to come as the parent of a child with disabilities.

That week forever changed how I thought of people with disabilities. I learned two universal truths in that week so many years ago that still remain today:

1. All people have great value and worth, regardless of their ability or disability.
2. I am truly blessed to be who I am and have what I have. And because I have been blessed, I should do something with those blessings.

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