Posts from — April 2009

Last night, N forgot to lock his bedroom door.  I mean, you really shouldn’t have to when you’re already in the house, but…  L took advantage of that opportunity, got into N’s room, took stuff, and even broke some of it.

When I returned the booty of stolen goods to N, his face just fell.  When he got back from putting his things away (and of course, locking the door), I asked him if he was angry.

Can you say “floodgates”?

Here’s a partial list of what he’s angry about:

• That we got THESE kids instead of easier ones
• That dad and I chose to adopt at all
• At L for being such a pill
• That his room isn’t safe
• There’s more garbage to take out
• That his toys get broken
• There’s nothing he can do to make L stop (he can’t fight back, because that doesn’t “teach” L anything)
• That his bathroom is a disgusting mess

Normally, I’d try to reason through these feelings, but not this time.  This time, I just heard him out.  Let him get all the words out of his system.  Let him know that I’m angry too.

And then we closed with some problem solving.  Part of the reason he doesn’t lock his room is because he has to hide the key somewhere L can’t get it – and that’s a pain.  So, he asked if he could get something with a keypad.  That had NEVER occurred to me, but its a brilliant idea (expensive, but brilliant).

Hopefully, N learned a little something about how to express his anger, and maybe a little about problem-solving.  But mostly, I hope he realized that he’s not alone.  That we’re right there with him.

Since I’m constantly talking about the kids’ meltdowns, I thought I’d talk about my own.

It was during dinner, and I was done.  The “I hate yous” started from L the minute we got home from school.  Everyone was complaining about everything.  Then, when I panicked because the dog had gotten hold of some of L’s meds (because M was messing with them), and now M hated ME. Huh?

The umpteenth time she pointed out that she didn’t want to even sit by me at dinner (her usual spot), I got up and left the table, lay down in bed, and curled up in the fetal position.  If I had had a stuffed animal available, I would have grabbed onto that – instead, I had to settle for a pillow (note to self, buy stuffed animal).

As I lay there, the negative self talk started doing its thing.

I suck at being a mom.

J (my husband) is a much better parent, the kids NEVER tell him they hate him.

How am I going to survive this?

Then there were the thoughts that no mom wants to admit to.  You know, the stuff you know that intellectually makes no sense, still manages to sneak up on you.

I wish I could just smack them right across the room!”

Why can’t I just put a lock on the OUTSIDE of their door…

And finally:

I hope they know how much they hurt me.

Yep, that’s right. I wanted kids who have been traumatized and neglected to feel bad for MY pain.

Finally, my husband came in (after dealing with the rest of dinner and the insanity by himself), and I had a good, loud, cry in his arms. Thank God for his strong, loving arms.

And then I had to survive the rest of the night without any coping tools (you know, candy, ice cream or wine) – we had NOTHING, and were both too exhausted to go get any! (note to self, maintain a permanent, revolving stash of coping tools).

For what its worth – L never really recovered from his negative behaviors, but M did.  She even wrote me a very meaningful apology (which of course, made me start crying all over again!)

Today, I feel like I was hit by a mack truck – I guess its just my body’s response to the stress.  And I’m feeling a little bit like I can start over, as though some painful “reset” button was pressed.

But I still want some ice cream and wine!

I’m tidy person.  Not crazy, Marie Barone, sanitize within an inch of your life clean, but tidy.  Everything has its place.  Floors are vacuumed and mopped, surfaces are dusted, and bathrooms are cleaned regularly.

I knew that with the addition of kids, there’d be additional mess.  Normal, manageable, mess.  N had his messes, but they were reasonable and easy for HIM to clean up.

Then came M and L.  My house has never been the same.

Its as though they have no concept or interest in cleanliness whatsoever.  Things that are normally NOT mess-inducing BECOME messes.  Here’s a few examples:

• Yesterday, I spent a good half hour scrubbing the sink free of toothpaste.  Toothpaste!  I’ve never scrubbed a bathroom so hard in my life.
• Saturday, I vacuumed.  Literally an hour later, I found Lego bits and paper scraps ground into the carpet.
• Stickers are banned.  ‘Nuff said.
• One day, M thought it’d be a good idea to play catch with a bottle of nail polish.  That had no lid.  Nail polish everywhere – walls, carpet, etc.
• Today, L’s sheets were covered with crayon bits, pieces of paper, and god only knows what else.  So I threw them in the wash.  An hour later, I bring them back into his room – only to discover that now, the MATTRESS is covered in crayon bits, legos and paper.  An HOUR later!

And no amount of discipline, reminders or rewards seems to fix this.  Unless I’m on top of them every second, they’re creating a mess and leaving it behind.

Its gotten so bad that we removed L’s bed frame and box spring so that he AT LEAST couldn’t shove stuff under his bed (you don’t want to know…).  And when I recently bought beds for the kids (arriving soon) I made sure to buy beds that had no gap between the frame and the floor (captain’s beds).

Is this normal for kids who’ve been in the system?  Probably.  Maybe it has something to do with the homelessness they experienced.  But why isn’t it getting any better?  M’s made some definite improvements, but L hasn’t.  It doesn’t help that he’s obsessed with teeny tiny things – things which add to the messiness.

It makes me soooo crazy.  I wish I could just let it go, but you know, I’M the one paying for carpet cleaning, or chasing after ants, or bothered by the smell.

It will get better, won’t it?

I never noticed until recently that L does NOT make eye contact very often.  He’s always looking down or away, hiding those beautiful eyes of his.

Even after his therapist pointed it out, it didn’t register with me.  I guess I thought she was talking about his eye contact with OTHER people, not with mommy and daddy.  But sure enough, its just as true with us as it is with anyone else.

It occured to me today that maybe this is part of the reason he’s so stuck in the memory of his older sister’s sadness when he had to leave that house.  Even though he’s seen her several times, maybe he hasn’t really LOOKED at her, and therefore, still only remembers the sadness.  Maybe, I dunno.  Its as good a theory as any!

So right now, its my mission to look into those sparkly eyes of his as often as possible, so that he can see the love I have for him.  So that he learns that when people see him, they are happy, and full of love for him.  So that he doesn’t have to keep the windows to his soul private anymore.

L’s therapist has been gradually pushing him to talk about harder and harder memories, and today, she continued the trend.  And today, to our surprise, he went for a big one – his last day at his old home.

The parents in his old home had L, M, and their sister E, and were supposed to adopt all three.  Instead, they only adopted E, causing L and M to be placed with us.  So not only did M and L have to experience a sudden, traumatic, move – they had to leave their big sister behind.

L remembers that day really well.  He remembers what they did, how he felt, and the look on E’s face when they left.  Over and over again, he talked about how sad she was.  And apparently, he thinks she’s STILL sad.  Like, he’s carrying this guilt/fear that she’s walking around sad because HE left. No matter how many times the therapist asked him to remember the most recent visit with E (just two months ago, when she was very happy), all he could talk about was that day 16 months ago, when she was sad.

His little body was curling in on itself.  He was getting harder and harder to understand. But he kept responding to the therapist.  He kept going, working through the feelings, remembering the sad.

I don’t know what the outcome of today’s session will be.  The therapist closed the session with talking about choosing to do things that make you happy or sad, and had L brainstorm what he could do to help him be happy.  Hopefully, my husband and I will be able to follow up on that.

I knew that day they moved into our home was traumatic.  But I only knew that in my head.  To watch my boy relive that day was incredibly difficult.  Thing is, I know this is just the tip of the iceberg.  In the scheme of his life, that day was far from the worst day he’s experienced.

I don’t want to watch my sweet boy work through that.  But I will.  Because as hard as it is for me, its ten times as hard for him.  And he deserves to have someone by his side as he works through his past.

The kids are back in school, after having just had a week off for spring break.  And this time, we blew it.

In the past, we either had a nanny (college graduate, working towards teaching credential) or my husband or I home during breaks.  This time, we had a much younger babysitter (high school graduate), and things kinda fell apart.

Its not the sitter’s fault.  She’s been our sitter for about a year now, and she’s a wonderful young lady who loves our kids, and isn’t freaked out when they get a little nutty.  But… this was her first time doing “full-time” baby sitting, and we did not prepare her anywhere near enough.

So, for future reference, this is how I will prepare any ‘full day’ sitter we hire.

1. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE keep the sugar content to a minimum.  I know its a shock to you, but when you thought you were giving them a glass of healthy OJ, you were actually loading them up with 24 grams of sugar.  THEN, you took them to McDonald’s where they had a Sprite.  THEN you gave them ice cream (with Magic Shell!) for a treat.  Once you left, they were little sugar crazed maniacs!
2. Map out a plan of attack for the day/week.  Figure out what activities you’re going to go to and when.  My kids desperately need structure, and they need to see that you have a plan.
3. While I don’t expect you to be as strict as I am, don’t allow them to run wild.  At the very least, make them clean up after themselves, and show good manners.  Otherwise, when I get home, “the law” hits them like a mack truck, and all heck breaks loose.
4. No, they cannot go out to the garage by themselves and get toys.  Trust me.
5. When they’re playing out in the backyard, you need to be out there with them.  Otherwise, the neighbor will start finding stuff the kids threw over the fence in her pool filter.
6. Don’t turn up the volume too loud on the TV.  It overloads my kids’ senses.
7. And did I mention about the sugar?  Seriously.  One treat.  That’s it.

Did I miss anything?

I’ve posted here several times about our experience with medications.  Sometimes, I need to listen to my own advice.

We have a new psych, and in our first meeting, I talked about wanting to take L off one of his meds.  I wasn’t convinced it was adding to his quality of life – and, to be honest, the pills are so giant I think I was beginning to think the bigger the badder.

So we tried it.  After a couple of days, he seemed, well, perkier.  That’s great, I thought.

Then, he started getting defiant.  Oh well, boys will be boys.

Then, he stopped listening.  Well, maybe the stress of the house hunt is getting to him (note to self, blog about THAT too).

Then, he stopped being able to control himself at all.  Hmmm…  maybe this med thing isn’t working, but then again, maybe he needs more time to get used to being off it.

Finally, a week later, he said to daddy: “I’ve been making bad choices.  I don’t like it.  Can I go back on my medicine?”

Oh.

Why was I so determined to take him off this medication?  Why was I so desperate to write off the signs as having to do with anything BUT going off the medication?

Because even though I know how helpful it is to him, there’s still a part of me that wants to believe he doesn’t need them.  That with enough love from daddy and I, he’ll heal, and be all better.

But that’s not how it works.  Oh, mommy and daddy love is great – wait, essential, as is a good therapist.  But after years of abuse and neglect, the brain rewires itself – and the medication is necessary to help the brain function as it is designed to.

So L is back on the medication.  And he’s doing great.  And I’ve learned my lesson – till I forget it again.