yuck

Tater's constant oppositional and antagonistic attitude is wearing me out. My love bank is empty, my patience is worn thin. I don't even want to see her, much less mother her.

Tater

Tater appears has one driving purpose in life: to provoke conflict, preferably with Mom.  Her first relationship ever was with her mom, and it was a relationship filled with anger.  Being angry at Mom is a very familiar feeling for her.  Not being angry feels odd.  If she can't get at my buttons, she'll have a go at her brother, or the puppy.  Again, we can see the pattern.  We understand why she is this way.  But how do we effect change?

follow up

So, Garbanzo got up this morning and said that he didn't like living in my orphanage and that he would rather live in a home. So we talked about the differences in how family members treat each other and in how orphanage staff and residents treat each other. He could easily list off observable behavior that a mommy would do and that a care-giver would not do. He could not as easily list how a child with parents would behave differently from a child with care-givers, so we made a list. Now when I see him start down the wrong path, I can hand him the list and he can see where he is headed.

Behavior of a child with parents that he respects and appreciates and wants to be close to:
· Do good work all the way (do the whole job, the right way, the first time).
· Trust Mama and Papa’s decisions (don’t argue or contradict).
· Be trust-worthy (tell only real words, leave other peoples’ things alone).
· Wear a pleasant face.
· Obey.
· Respect adult conversation (stay out of it).
· Do your chores independently.

Behavior of a child with temporary caregivers that don’t really care about him and that he doesn’t really care about:
· Push into adult conversation.
· Contradict the adults.
· Give the adults advice that they don’t want or need.
· Manage the adult’s tasks, responsibilities, things, etc.
· Say “I will” but do a poor job or don’t do it.
· When an adult asked you do to a job, pretend that the adult asked you for a smaller job and do only that.
· Change or cancel adult instructions.
· Sulk.
· Argue.
· Yell at them.
· Storm off.
· Sneak.
· Disobey.
· Grumble.
· Snoop through their stuff.
· Take what you want.
· Plan ahead for the naughty thing you want to do the next time the adults aren’t around.
· If one says ‘no’ ask another adult.
· Bully and boss the other children around.
· Damage things on purpose.

limitations

You know, if my child had no legs, people would not come up to me and extol the virtues of running and how beneficial it would be to him and question why I won't let him do this normal lovely activity, why I won't let him be normal.  They would see that my child could not do this normal thing and that it wasn't because I wouldn't let him, but because there is some intrinsic limitation built into the way the child is made.

Yet, I get this all the time from well-meaning relatives: when are you going to let him got to school? when are you going to let him do this and that? wouldn't it be fun for him if he could . . . ?  But no, he doesn't get to to all that because his mean old mother arbitrarily says 'no'.


What if he doesn't get to do all that because he unravels when we try things like that? What if he doesn't get to do that because he is opportunistically sneaky and we have to keep an eye on him all the time? What if he doesn't get to do all that because even one week of sleep-away camp set us back about 9 months to a year in attachment? What if the reason his life is limited and not normal is not actually my fault?  What if I am constantly trying to expand his world and running into the clear message that he can't handle it yet?




What if I am grieving all the things my child doesn't get to do and be and experience and you walk up and extol the virtues of running to me?







Yes, some of my relatives read this, and yes, I am responding to something you said or did.  Be at peace though; I know your one suggestion was well-intended and seemed reasonable to you.  And if your suggestion was the only one, I wouldn't be reacting, but I am carrying a large basket of friendly suggestions that are all clearly oblivious to the fact that all those good things you want for our son, we want too.  All those desires that you spend 20 minutes on? We spend hours on.  We weep over them.  We grieve.


We are not, however, the source of his limitations.  We are the repair squad.  It's a yucky job and we are doing our best.  You can help us by stopping with the assumptions that if we would just get out of his way he could be a typical kid.  We are doing all we can to help him get to be a happy kid, but there are a lot of obstacles -- most of which you know nothing about -- none of which did we put into place.

Deborah Gray

Last Monday -- thanks to my dear cousin who took the kids -- I got to attend an all day conference at which spoke. I learned quite a bit and was reminded of many things I had rather forgotten about. Deborah Gray is the author of Attaching in Adoption: Practical Tools for Today's Parents and Nurturing Adoptions: Creating Resilience After Neglect and Trauma. We got to hear her speak once before; I so wish we lived close enough to go see her for therapy.

. . . be not dismissive of their tender needs . . .

I'm going to type up my notes here because, well to be honest, I have a better chance of finding the blog post months from now than I have of finding the paper in my files. Here is what I jotted down, in no particular order.


When infants move away from their primary caregiver, they experience psychobiologic disregulation. Garbanzo who recently finally got a primary caregiver, also does this. When he gets too far from me he gets physically wired up and his ability to make good decisions and control his impulses goes downhill. This is part of why keeping him home and keeping him close is so helpful. I wonder if it will still work when he is 18. Hmmmm . . .

Garbanzo is likely at the Disorganized Attachment category, always questioning "How is Mom going to be with me today?" with competing claims of "she's safe" and "watch out". Deborah did a great illustration of this, dividing the audience into thirds and asking us to shout out either "she's safe" or "watch out" or "run away" all at the same time as she asked a volunteer for a hug. This is what many of our kids experience each time they try to draw close.

Deborah mentioned that neglect is the highest predictor of anti-sociality. Kids from neglectful backgrounds have trouble recognizing some expressions on people's faces (this is Garbanzo, he sees everything, but doesn't interpret and/or register looks of annoyance etc.).

Deborah described how she talks with children about how empty hearts fill with mad and sad and we need to fill the hearts with loves. She also shared about a young woman who stole, and didn't know that stealing hurts people's feelings, hurts their hearts. We often run into similar things with Garbanzo; where he doesn't know things, doesn't 'see' things that are so obvious to us. Note to self: explicitly explain everything.

Prevent the kids from getting lonely and bored as that leads to anger, and with time and opportunity, mischief will ensue. We have seen this borne out over and over: keep him busy; keep him close.

With Garbanzo, we need to improve attachment to reduce anxiety to reduce need for control. Alas, easier said than done.

Kids that were abandoned question if they are worth coming back to. When returning to the kids, especially Tater, we need to talk up how happy we are to be reunited, how we thought about them while we were gone, etc.

Tater falls easily from frustration into despair. It is as if she used up her frustration tolerance as an infant waiting to be feed/warmed/ tended to. When frustration/despair overwhelm her now, provide empathy and compassion (she needs this retroactively) but don't dwell on it, don't let it become a defining characteristic.

Help her make a plan for when big feelings swamp her.

When she starts to melt, ask her to count things, or name things, or ask if anyone smells butter or popcorn or something. Smelling and counting and naming all engage the brain in activities that distract from emotional disintegration.

Then I have a whole list of resolutions, without commentary:
:: be more playful
:: be more affectionate
:: stroke inside of their palms (triggers for attachment)
:: do not shame them ~ "be not dismissive of their tender needs"
:: use more role-playing and repetition
:: help name feelings
:: hold hands more
:: create more positive spaces & moments
:: notice and admire
:: compliment their thinking
:: say 'yes' just cause they are cute
:: be not frightening
:: make timelines of their lives, or roadmaps . . . road to a happy life
:: play more
:: use words like "repair" and "restoration" not "punishment" and "discipline"
:: ramp up procedural learning - practice over and over
:: tell them what I want, not what I don't want