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.

It finally happened – sister E came for a visit.

But first, we got a call from sister’s mom that she was working again this weekend, so she couldn’t bring E.  That prompted some soul-searching on our part – we really wanted them to bear the burden of the driving this time, but ultimately, we decided that it was in M and L’s best interests to see their sister… so we did all the transportation.

I suppose the visit went well.  Maybe.  L was excluded (he is a boy, after all, who doesn’t really like playing with dolls and makeup).  E was very bossy, and very loud.  Maybe no more so than my kids, but since she’s not mine, I notice it more.  And about 10 minutes before we dropped E off, M fell apart and suddenly decided she hated E (I know, more than likely she just didn’t want to say goodbye).  The kids were happy she came, but seemed equally happy when she left.

My husband and I now need to decide how frequent future visits should be.  Quarterly?  Twice a year? Once a year?  We’re leaning towards the latter, with phone calls and notes in between.  But I just don’t know what the “right” answer is.

Two small words, one amazing step for M.

M is not the most empathetic little girl.  If you’re hurting, she doesn’t usually show concern.  If she’s hurt you, she never apologizes unless she’s made to.

Tonight, after dinner, we told them to either play outside or in their rooms.  They headed off to their rooms, but apparently didn’t make a direct trip.  Next thing we know, L is sobbing.  Hard.  We’ve learned to not rush in and rescue, so we waited to see what would happen next.  After a few minutes, he calmed down, and we heard M come out of her room, go into L’s, and say “I’m sorry L”.

Our jaws literally dropped.  My eyes teared up.  And then to top it off, we heard her say “Are you okay?”.

Color us stunned.  What makes it especially amazing is that she was apologizing and showing concern for her brother, who she’s usually busy trying to set off.

These are the moments you live for.

Had a 45 minute conversation with N today.  Seems he’s really struggling with the whole concept of being a big brother to L and M, especially L.

For the past seven months, Jim and I have been focused on the gains L has been making.  And how now, he’s acting more like a little brother, and not some strange kid who is living in the same house with N.  And to us, that’s been great news.

To N, it means he’s now got this kid all up in his face, just like you’d expect a little brother to be.  But, and here’s the point of all this, N can’t respond like you’d expect a big brother to respond (smack L upside the head, tease him back, etc) – because that would trigger L’s issues all over again, and set L back.

That sucks.

So now Jim and I are working on ways that N can respond when his siblings are acting, well, like siblings!  We’ll see how this turns out.

Just a few minutes ago, N said “who’s crying?”  I didn’t hear anything over the TV, but as soon as I walked down the hall, I heard M sobbing.

Let me say, before I had kids, I never knew such helplessness as when I now hear the sound of my daughter crying.

Anyway, as I went into her room, she said “I don’t get to see E!” (her sister, who was adopted by another family).

Now, its a whole ‘nother blog post – or two, or three – to explain why the kids were separated.  But they were, and that’s a part of the reality we have to contend with every day.

What was MORE notable was that M told me what was bothering her – she’s rarely done that.  Its been hard for her to trust her pain to yet another family.  But she did.  And we talked through it.  And I’m sure we’ll have many more conversations like it.

I can hardly imagine the pain my poor girl has had to deal with in her life – but to add to it, the separation from her sister?  Its insane!  It makes me so mad, and so frustrated.  Because just to turn things on their head again – it might actually be for the best that they’re not together.  Something about how kids who have been through trauma together actually tend to continue harming each other instead of supporting each other.  And yet, how do you explain that to a 6 year old?