The utterly inept 22-yr-old adoption caseworker hired in February, trained in March and independently on the job in May, just emailed that she'd accidentally given me the wrong fingerprinting forms when she was here.
We already did the fingerprinting! Theo left work early. I arranged childcare. It's a hassle as the fingerprinting place is not close. And we already got it done because I'm determined to hand her a completed packet at her next visit on June 3rd in order to get us through this ridiculous process as quickly as possible.
I responded that we will be discussing this at her next visit, which will be attended by her supervisor. (Subsequent to a lengthy email and phone call I had with her supervisor after her initial visit, all visits will now include her supervisor in a coaching capacity. She also must now submit an emailed update to both her supervisor and me every two weeks for review.)
Here's the thing. Paperwork is all she does. All social workers since we began this process do one thing: paperwork. They bring the forms. We complete the forms. They submit the forms. They are the transporters and facilitators of forms. That's it.
They do not help me. They do not answer my questions. They do not meet my children's needs.
So, if your one and only function is to give me forms you had damn well better give me the correct ones. It is, literally, the least you can do.
Update 6/3/19: Today we had our second visit with the colossally incompetent social worker, this time attended by her supervisor in a "coaching" capacity. We went through all the forms. Yep, at least 50% of them were the wrong version or we were instructed to have the wrong people fill them out or they had the wrong dates, etc. The supervisor was able to repair some of the damage but not all.
So, now I go back to people and ask them to yet again make copies of their driver's license and fill out the inane forms. Because it was so much fun the first time.
It was just the supervisor and I sitting there talking the whole time. She shuffled papers and checked boxes. Until her big moment when she got to ask me about my parenting and discipline strategies (the exact same questions I've been asked so many times I have a script now). I'm talking to a 22 yr old twit. I so desperately want to make up the craziest thing I can and watch her write it down. We tell them to blow bubbles in their mind! We all have imaginary pets we carry around and hug all day long! I tell them their toes are magical! She wouldn't have the sense to question it but I have to assume someone somewhere might actually read these response and question how magical toes figure into a discipline strategy.
At the end I asked the supervisor to give me a ballpark idea of when this process will be completed. She guessed mid-late October. I am counting the days to be done with these people.
But, after she left, it hit me. They'll officially and forever be our daughters less than one year after we met them? They came on November 30, 2018, and it was the hardest December and Christmas and January of my life. Will next year be better?
We already did the fingerprinting! Theo left work early. I arranged childcare. It's a hassle as the fingerprinting place is not close. And we already got it done because I'm determined to hand her a completed packet at her next visit on June 3rd in order to get us through this ridiculous process as quickly as possible.
I responded that we will be discussing this at her next visit, which will be attended by her supervisor. (Subsequent to a lengthy email and phone call I had with her supervisor after her initial visit, all visits will now include her supervisor in a coaching capacity. She also must now submit an emailed update to both her supervisor and me every two weeks for review.)
Here's the thing. Paperwork is all she does. All social workers since we began this process do one thing: paperwork. They bring the forms. We complete the forms. They submit the forms. They are the transporters and facilitators of forms. That's it.
They do not help me. They do not answer my questions. They do not meet my children's needs.
So, if your one and only function is to give me forms you had damn well better give me the correct ones. It is, literally, the least you can do.
Update 6/3/19: Today we had our second visit with the colossally incompetent social worker, this time attended by her supervisor in a "coaching" capacity. We went through all the forms. Yep, at least 50% of them were the wrong version or we were instructed to have the wrong people fill them out or they had the wrong dates, etc. The supervisor was able to repair some of the damage but not all.
So, now I go back to people and ask them to yet again make copies of their driver's license and fill out the inane forms. Because it was so much fun the first time.
It was just the supervisor and I sitting there talking the whole time. She shuffled papers and checked boxes. Until her big moment when she got to ask me about my parenting and discipline strategies (the exact same questions I've been asked so many times I have a script now). I'm talking to a 22 yr old twit. I so desperately want to make up the craziest thing I can and watch her write it down. We tell them to blow bubbles in their mind! We all have imaginary pets we carry around and hug all day long! I tell them their toes are magical! She wouldn't have the sense to question it but I have to assume someone somewhere might actually read these response and question how magical toes figure into a discipline strategy.
At the end I asked the supervisor to give me a ballpark idea of when this process will be completed. She guessed mid-late October. I am counting the days to be done with these people.
But, after she left, it hit me. They'll officially and forever be our daughters less than one year after we met them? They came on November 30, 2018, and it was the hardest December and Christmas and January of my life. Will next year be better?
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