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Special Investigation Part II

Today the social worker returned to our house to interview the two older boys, Seth (17) and Gus (13). He spent about five minutes with each one.

First he schmoozed a bit (and, seriously, no, these boys do not imagine this guy showing up out of the blue for the express purpose of investigating spanking actually cares what they think of their homeroom teacher...give them some credit and cut the bullshit, already). Then, he asked them two questions. 1) How do your parents discipline you? 2) How do your parents discipline other kids in the home?

Both boys gave the answer we told them to give: timeouts.

No follow up questions, no deep probing, no crafty ninja interrogation skills from the Special Investigation guy who's been, "forensically trained" as I kept being told as if I should go ooh, ahh, wow, each time the phrase was uttered.

Theo keeps telling me that this piss-poor job is a sign the guy actually recognizes we're fine and this whole complaint stemmed from overzealous, under-experienced social workers. The guy didn't put any effort in because he knew there was nothing to find from the beginning. This guy is the very first person we ever worked with at the agency. He was our licensing worker and trainer so we spent more time with him (and back when we were enthusiastic, vocal newbies who liked the agency) than anyone else. He probably is the first, last, and only employee there who actually knows us to any degree.

I do think it's plausible he's the one guy in all of this who knows this was crap and he's just pushing through the paperwork because it's a law that he has to. Mainly because he is actually a parent whereas none...not a single one...of the other social workers are.

He has three very young children himself and I'm sure he understands that yes, sometimes, you do slap the toddler's hand when they're reaching for the outlet after they've been warned and won't quit out of childish curiosity and defiance. Because the lesson of immediate, short-term pain is going to teach that child and ultimately keep them safer than an abstract punishment like a Timeout.

So, now we just wait for the report. He assures us he'll get it done quickly and it won't interfere with the adoption process. I truly hope so.

One last thing. Yesterday when it was time for him to talk to James separately, I set James up in front of a cartoon and did not turn off the cartoon for the guy to talk to James. I did that intentionally. I know nobody can get a coherent word out of him while he's zoned out in front of a screen.

So, think about this. I was given three weeks from notification to actual investigation because I said our calendar was full and we couldn't fit anyone in. During that time I prepped my teens for what to say. I coached my girls on how to respond. And I brainstormed ideas for how to set up my preschooler in a scenario that guaranteed his non-cooperation.

And I'm one of the good guys. I'm not even covering up a crime. I'm just trying to keep my family safe from further harm by under-trained, overly-zealous, not-too-bright social workers.

If it was this easy for me to prevent my kids from speaking openly to the social worker, how much more likely would it be that someone doing something truly heinous would manipulate their children into covering up their crime? The idea that these social workers are equipped to learn anything meaningful is ridiculous. God, this system is utterly, deeply broken.

P.S. In the interest of full disclosure...on the night before the investigation began I drank my very first whiskey-and-soda. I hate alcohol. I used to drink maybe 2-3 glasses of wine per year at various social events. Yet, since becoming a foster mother I've started drinking a wine cooler at night after the kids are in bed, like taking a sleeping pill since alcohol puts me to sleep, 4-5 nights per month.

Foster care has driven me to drink. Think about that for a moment.

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