At last night’s therapy session, something became painfully clear – one of us needs to quit our full-time job if we are going to give L the best chance possible for healing.

!!!

We are both employed full time, in fairly well paying jobs.  And yet we live paycheck to paycheck.  I still don’t really know how that’s possible.  Maybe its the mortgage payment on the house we just bought.  Maybe its the grocery bill.  Maybe we just spend too much, I dunno.  But going without half our income is about as realistic as one of us going to the moon.

To make matters worse, the best person to be a stay at home parent is my husband – who of course, has the larger salary.  But it would be just as nuts to lose my salary.

Maybe there’s other options.  Maybe there’s county services we could take advantage of.  Maybe….

But right now, all I know is what our son needs – he needs a full-time parent.   And yet, I have no idea how to give it to him and still be able to take care of the rest of the family.

How on earth…

My church is having a women’s retreat, and in a cursory review of the agenda, it looks like they’re going to spend a lot of time with activities that are deep and meaningful.  And I instantly thought “oh man!  no way I’m going to THAT!”

???

I was very surprised at my response.  Going deep is a good thing, right?  Growth, building relationships, etc – its all good, right?  And in the past, I’ve normally sought that kind of thing out.  So what’s the deal?

Then it hit me: I don’t need to go on a retreat to go deep, because these days, I LIVE in the deep.

On a daily basis, I find myself so far in the deep end of my kids crap that I’m either exhausted from treading water, or feel like I’m drowning.  Every day, I’m faced with levels of anger, grief, pain and loss that would take down the Terminator himself.  Every day, I have to examine my own insecurities, failings and emotions at a level that most people pay trained professionals to help them examine (and, I pay said paid professional in addition to my own examination).  Every day, I have to work like a fiend at my relationship with my husband, because we can’t take it for granted for a single minute or else we’ll drown.

Every day, I’m in the deep.

Which is why last night was such a wonderful little break.  For one hour, we went out to dinner to celebrate my husband’s birthday, and it was a delight.  My husband and I were making googly eyes at each other; N was being the tolerably annoying big brother; L was being a total, goofy, delight; M was trying desperately to act like a little adult (which is hard to do when your two front teeth are missing and you’re cute beyond words).  We laughed, joked, sang in the car, and generally had a blast.

Of course, it ended the minute we got home, but that’s okay.  Because for a brief moment, I got to sit in the shallow end, and take a break.  When you’re treading water day in and day out, even that brief respite can do wonders.

Maybe all parents have this, but I suspect that it hits fost-adopt parents especially hard: this idea that we have to be perfect at what we do, because if we’re not, we’ll have made a our traumatized child’s life worse instead of better, and that’s just too much for us to bear.

But today, consider giving yourself permission to do the following:

Be Lazy

Kids want to go to the park, but you’re too tired?  Then too bad for the kids, they can play at home.  Kids want Round Table, but you want cold leftovers?  Eat the leftovers.    None of this will kill them, or even make them all that miserable.

Lower your Standards

Kids rooms a disaster area?  Close the door and create your own fantasy world where its clean.  Kid doesn’t have many friends?  Be grateful that they’ve learned how to play on their own.  Kid’s got Cs and Ds?  Hey, its still good enough to pass.  Your kids don’t need to have a perfect life – they just need to be loved by you.

Lose a Battle

Kid needs a bath, but they’re resisting?  No problem – people used to go weeks without baths, one more day won’t kill your kids.  You poured mini-wheats, they want cheerios?  Leave the mini-wheats out for tomorrow, and pour another bowl.  Sometimes, battles are worth fighting, but sometimes, they’re more about your pride than anything else.

Put Yourself First

Kid needs to cuddle, but you need a nap?  Take the nap, cuddle later.  Kid hates the sitter, but you and your spouse need a date?  If the sitter’s still willing, go on the date.  If you’re not strong, your kids will soon pay the price as well.

Screw Up

Trained to provide positive discipline, but yelled like a banshee at your kids instead?  Whatever, its over and done with.  Apologize and move on.  Or don’t apologize and still move on.  Accused your kid of lying, but it turns out they were innocent?  Again, apologize and move on.  Don’t beat yourself up for not being perfect.  It doesn’t help anyone.

The thing is, we’re human – with all the flaws and foibles that come with us – so perfection is not even an option, let alone a reality.   I’m not asking you to give yourself permission to go wild – just to be human.

So I know I’ve talked about how we’ve been talking L to a wonderful, talented therapist.  Well, I’ve been going too.  Something about being stressed out beyond all belief…

Of course, one of my major issues is dealing with L.  His constant whining, inability to do ANYthing, calling us names, slamming doors, etc.

My therapist (well, L’s therapist too), has pointed out that L is really stuck in “victim” mode: that he’s bad, he can’t do anything, etc.  And one of our jobs is to help him build his problem solving skills.

One of the things that makes us nuts is when L is told to clean his room, and after an hour of sitting there, starts to wail “IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII CANNNNNNNNNN’T”, over and over again.  Or, when he has homework problems that I’ve seen him do before, he says “but I don’t know hooooooooooowwwwwwwwww.”  Or when he’s hungry, and he screams “I’M!!!!! HUN!!! GRY!!!”.

In the past, I would respond “oh sure you can honey, you know how to do it, you just…”.  Or “oh yes you do, you’ve done these before, its just like this…”.  Or “what would you like to eat?”

No more.  My husband and I have been tasked with putting it back on his shoulders, making HIM fix the “problem”, and even ignoring him if necessary.

That may seem like a lot to ask of a traumatized seven year old, but the fact is, he’s a smart kid.  He knows JUST where our buttons are.  And he’s totally capable of doing anything we ask.

So now, when he “can’t” clean his room, there is absolutely no response from us.  If he suddenly doesn’t know how to do his homework, at most, he gets a “I’ll be excited to see how you figure that out.”  And when he’s hungry, the response is “so what are you going to do about that?”.

And, if he says mean things, we ignore it (I was just called a stupid idiot – that’d normally really get me going, this time, nothing).  If he refuses to get out of our face, we leave the room.  We’ve even got his older brother N in on it – in fact, just a few minutes ago, L was yelling because something was in his way, and N responded “Hey L, thanks for reminding me to put my stuff away”!  Nice job, N!

We’ve been charged to do this as much as we can for the two weeks – we’ve been doing it for 4 days now, and while I don’t know that there’s a different in L’s behavior, there’s sure a difference in my attitude. Its very freeing.  I’m probably less stressed than I’ve been in months, because instead of trying to get him to “do” or “act” a certain way, I put the onus on him.

So whaddaya gonna do about that, L?

I hate alarming our kids rooms.  It feels so inhumane, so jail-like, so “abnormal”. But as soon as M and L moved in, we “alarmed” their rooms, per the urging of our social worker.

We started with the kind you put on the door, that chime every time they open it.  Worked for awhile, till L figured out that if he slammed the door hard enough, the thing would fall off (we’re currently renting, so used double-sided tape instead of drilling holes in the door).  Eventually, after falling off enough times, the thing broke.

Then we got another type, a motion sensor.  But positioning it is tricky.  And eventually, L figured out a way to get past it!

Once L gets past the alarms, he goes nuts.  He starts with the food – he doesn’t necessarily eat a ton, he just opens a ton.  The other night, he must have destroyed $50 worth of groceries.  If he can’t get to the food, he plays with whatever he can get his hands on – one night, it was air freshener – he went through an entire can!  He’s been in our wallets and other valuables.

“Well, why don’t you just childproof the house?” you ask?  Its impossible.  There is no amount of child proofing that can stop this kid.  This is a kid who removed screws from wood, with his bare hands.  And besides, how do you childproof the TV?  The computers? The sofa pillows?

And just to make me even crazier, he’s been bragging about how “we can’t stop him.”

We talked to his psych, who changed his dosing and timing a bit to help him sleep through the night.  And he’s got to pay us back for all the groceries he destroyed by doing chores.

But last night, we doubled-up on the alarms.  I rigged the door alarm so he couldn’t slam it off (don’t know why I didn’t think of how to do that sooner!), and we’ve got the motion sensor in a different location.

Now here’s the interesting part – after spending the day, telling us how we can’t stop him, when we installed the alarms, L gave me a big hug and said “thank you mommy”.

!!!

He doesn’t WANT to be a bad kid.  Eventually, he will be able to control his impulses.  But for now, he needs our help.  And if having an alarm helps him to feel safe, and not make bad choices, then I’ll put up as many as he needs.

Love sometimes looks very different when you’re parenting a traumatized child.  But still, its love.

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!

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?

My husband rocks.  He is exactly the kind of man you want raising a little girl.  He’s masculine, yet sensitive.  He’s the leader of our family, but loves him a strong, intelligent woman.  Most important, he’s emotionally healthy, and sensitive to the needs of others.

And he adores his little girl.  She is truly his little princess.  But M… well, M has issues with men.  Justifiably.  No need to go into details, its just the reality of her past.

So its no real surprise that its taken her a long time to warm up to daddy.  And that she doesn’t let him kiss her cheek.

J, being the smart daddy that he is, doesn’t push it too hard.  And, he’s intuitive enough to know when to push just a little.  Hence, the conversation he and M had the other night.

J:  “So, when I try to kiss your cheek, does it make you think of your first Papa?”

M: “Yes, and when I think of him, I get mad at you.”

(pause)

M: “But daddy, you’re the greatest!”

That little conversation has so much packed into it.  Daddy’s attempt to reach out to his little girl.  M’s ability to realize how she was feeling.  And M’s recognition of her awesome daddy.

Little moments like these mean so much to our family.

Lets face it – nothing is ever going to be “routine” again in a household that’s done fost-adopt, or older-child adoption.  Ain’t gonna happen.

But… you’ve got to have a system for getting everyone out of the house in the morning, and for doing all that stuff that needs doing after school.  Otherwise, you’ll lose your mind.  Well, you may lose your mind anyway, but that’s another story…

In our routine, my husband and I have been splitting the morning and evening duties.  But by a happy accident, we discovered a better way.  Now, he OWNS the morning, from the moment the first kid tries to get up too early, till dropping them off at school.  I get to do my own thing, and head off to work without any stress.  Conversely, I OWN the evening routine, till bedtime, and my husband is free to work without having to worry about rushing home.

I have to say, I’m loving this new routine.  Morning were so stressful because I was so focused on getting the kids ready so I could get to work on time.  Even the easy mornings were stressful.  But for some reason, my husband doesn’t share the same stress – he’s much more easygoing about schedules, and doesn’t get bothered when the kids don’t cooperate in the morning.

And I’m okay with the evening routine, because there’s no real time constraints, so I’m not so focused on “making” the schedule.

So for now, we have a system that seems to get everything taken care of, fits each parent’s strengths, and provides a little relief to each parent as well.  And who knows, may even be good for the kids!