one thing that is working

Tater has a really hard time controlling her temper.  Anything that makes her mad makes her really really mad.  Not getting her way, being told no, being told what to do, being corrected, being asked to do a job correctly, these all make her mad.

When she is mad, she is consumed by the mad.  And the situation escalates into more and more bad choices.

Basically, she can't be around people, as she will engage them in anger.  So, obviously, she needs to be by herself until she can calm down.  It usually does not take long, and she can usually see that she was being unreasonable after she has become calm.

But getting her to go to her room usually became chaotic.  I'd say something like, "You need to go to your room until you can accept my decision." and she would shout hateful things and stomp and shout challenges and NOT GO.  And then I would stand up to take her and she would cry out that I was hurting her and whimper and do the whole kicked puppy thing and it would just go on and on.  She would lose control and (as James Lehman would point out) gain control, as I would back off on my resolve to ask her to go to her room.

But no more!

I give my kids printed lists (via OLLY) that show the day's responsibilities.  Included on each day is this:

COPYWORK: 5 times neatly and in cursive: When I behave inappropriately, Mom and Dad may ask me to go to my room to calm down so that I can correct my behavior. I need to go to my room without challenging, grumbling, stomping, and so on. When I am ready to apologize for my inappropriate behavior and am ready to be polite to people, I may come out of my room. (If you go to your room appropriately when asked, you don't need to copy this today.)

Now, if it wasn't on the list, and I assigned it when she acted up, there would be a big raging fit over receiving the lines.  But since it is on her list as default, and she can earn the right to skip it with good behavior, she choses that.  

dripping and glowering

It doesn't matter how early I start her, Tater comes late to breakfast, as in, arrives when breakfast is being cleared away.  I think it has something to do with with early food deprivation, so I haven't the heart to consistently do the logical thing ("too bad so sad, you missed breakfast").  We have done that, but it had no impact and I couldn't shake the feeling that that was her point, to recreate the early experiences of hunger and neglect.  If she can recreate that experience, she has a focus for the anger that she carries around.

So today I awoke her at 9 and told her breakfast was at 9:30.  She needs to shower, get dressed, and straighten up her room in that half hour.  At 9:30 I went and got her out of the shower (ignoring the pleas for rinsing the conditioner) and handed her her robe and took her to the table.

After breakfast we will do our normal routines up until it is time to leave for music class.  She will have to scamper through those to get time to go get dried off and dressed.

So now she is angry about that.  What a horrible way for all of us to start our day.  What would you do?

She's almost 11 now, btw.

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.

I got this in my email box today.  I snipped out the identifying parts; I just wanted to share this part with you.  The writer is talking about her daughter, also adopted as an older child.

  Her Achilles heel is that she is insecure.  Her insecurity presents itself as irritating behavior.  She was obviously more hurt by losing her family, although she doesn’t have a single kind word to say about her mother.  She’s a whiner, complainer and a glass-half-empty kind of girl.  If something is bothering her, she makes sure everyone knows it.  My husband and I are trying to address the behavior as much as we can, because life won’t be joyful for her if she operates out of insecurity.
 

Yup -- that's my Tater too.

Somehow it is so comforting to know that someone else out there really understands.  Thanks!!

not friends anymore

Being told by Tater that you are no longer her friend is rather like being un-friended by the rooster.  How is it going to look any different?

two-point shots

Tater: I don't get this problem.
Me: "I don't get" is not a question.
Tater: This part.
(points to words that say So-n-so made 23 two-point shots. . . )
Me: Well, how much is a two-point shot worth?
Tater: I don't know! They never taught me that! How am I supposed to know?
Me: Well, you let me know when you are ready to tell me and then I will help you set up the problem.
Tater: (rages off)

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?

is it working?

My MIL called to ask, "Is it working? Being mean to her?"  Not that I am being mean to her on a regular basis, just the one-time here's-what-it-looks-like-to-be-around-you demonstration.

Yes, I would have to say it has.  Between that and the calm two swats, repeated as necessary, Tater has had a total of ONE temper tantrum since Monday.  One.  We have had some fusses, yes, but no raging.  Three rage-free days in a row is a record here.  So yes, I would have to say it is working.

The S-word

So, Tater's behavior is progressively worse: this year is worse than last, last year was worse than the one before.  It's the kind of behavior that if we saw some other kid doing it we would furrow our brows and say, "That kid needs a spanking."  I know. I know.  I just uttered the unspeakable word.  When you have recovered, read on.

Our guiding book Transforming the Difficult Child (which does not advocate spanking) recommends that we acknowledge that all emotional reactions from parents are -- from a kid's perspective -- pay-offs.  Negative or positive, they are the desired response. 

We especially see this when I am doing anything that precludes giving Tater my attention.  She would like to have non-stop undivided attention.  If I am not available for positive attention, she will deliberately trigger negative attention.  Literally, it will go like this:

Me: Tater, I am not available for 20 minutes.  If you interrupt me, you will have to wait on your bed.
(20 seconds pass -- she interrupts.)
Me: Okay, time to wait on your bed.
Tater: NOOooo, I don't want to. (Screams, rages, won't go to her bed, throws things, screams that she hates me and that when she grows up she will come back and stomp on my stomach.)  Pretty much does whatever she can think of that will get me to physically move her to her bed and/or return to the room she is in.  When the mean screaming doesn't work, she will sob that she needs a snuggle.

Oh, she needs a snuggle. I'm supposed to deliver that right?  No!  I used to, but I've smartened up.  Look at this from her point of view.

Mom says she is not available.  If I act up, I'll be sent to sit on my bed but if I don't go, she'll have to take me (attention) and if I scream something loud enough or long enough or mean enough she'll come close my door and windows (attention) and when I stop screaming she'll pop in all smiley that I stopped screaming and I'll get a long snuggle and I'll have her attention.

And this is pretty much wrecking my life. I can't stand the screaming 2-4 times a day, an hour at a time.  I can't keep my cool, so even if I am calm and neutral with her, the anxiety emanating off of me for the next several hours is a tremendous pay-off for her.  How powerful she must be to jangle her adult so thoroughly.

And how can we sparkle and dote upon her for compliance when there isn't any?  For this, sparkling and doting, is (according to our book) the path to happiness: help her see herself as someone who can be pleasing.

This morning:

Tater comes in all scowling and snarling because she doesn't like part of the day's plan.
Me: Please leave my room.  You may come back when you can be pleasant.
(You need to know that our bedroom is the long-established safe house for adults and pets.  The children may be in there by permission and at our discretion.  I have to have somewhere to cool off.)
Tater huffs out in an indignant and surly manner.
Me: Please go sit on your bed.
Tater objects and back-talks and argues.
Me: Tater, I cannot allow you to behave in such an ugly manner.  Please come in and get your spanking. (Now, before you think this is so harsh, remember that past experience causes me to believe that her screaming will escalate into a huge drawn-out long ordeal and my goal for the day is to take the kids swimming with their cousins.)
I give her two swats in a very calm neutral manner.
Me: Please go upstairs quietly and sit on your bed.

Tater screams.
Me: Tater, I cannot allow you to behave in such an ugly manner.  Please come in and get your spanking.
I give her two swats in a very calm neutral manner.
Me: Please go upstairs quietly and sit on your bed.

Tater: Stomps and kicks and scowls.
Me: Tater, I cannot allow you to behave in such an ugly manner. Please come in and get your spanking.
I give her two swats in a very calm neutral manner.
Me: Please go upstairs quietly and sit on your bed.

Tater goes upstairs quietly and sits on her bed.

Twenty minutes pass.  Nothing is thrown.  No mean words are shouted.  It is amazing.  Garbanzo is amazed.  I am amazed.

I call her down. I lavish her with praise and admiration for using her strength (she likes power, remember?) to go upstairs quietly and to sit on her bed.  I do a silly happy dance.  She giggles.  I hug her. Garbanzo high-fives her.  I lighten an unpleasant obligation that she is carrying for the day.  We eat breakfast together.  Life is good.

I know the spankings are so questionable.  I question them.  But in this instance, they were able to derail the Tantrum Train, so she could experience what it might be like to obey and please Mama and received positive energy and have a nice day.

I like the train analogy.  If she is on a speeding run-away out-of-control train heading for wreck, and I can shove her off the train, I'll do it.

Right now she is pleasant and helpful and singing.

the one more

What do you do about this pattern?

Parent: Don't do xyz.
Child does one more xyz and shoots a saucy look.

Tater does this every time.  EVERY TIME.

and what I did about it

Okay, here is what I did. If you think I am a dreadful mother you may be right. Please let me know and also let me know what time you will pick the kids up for a stay at your house. I'll have them all packed. Bring them back in a month and I'll make tea and you can tell me all about how horrible I am.

So, I analyzed Tater's tantrums. They pretty much include these elements:

• say as many mean things as you can think off.
• take whatever yucky feeling you have in your heart and spread it around on as many people as possible.
• completely ignore other people's requests to modify the behavior.
• in fact, use those requests as a trigger to escalate the behavior.
• get completely absorbed in yucky feelings and try to make other people get involved in them.
• be really mean and scream at other people when they come near.
• ruin meals, mornings, outings, whatever, by acting out whenever the feeling strikes.

Well it just so happened that I had a whole boat-load of yucky feelings on hand.  So out-the-blue I just started being really mean.  Really mean.  Hard looks and hard voices and hard words.  I didn't say every mean thing I could think of, but I said mean things.  I made a point of making everyone around me miserable.  I shouted at Garbanzo when he solicitously asked me what was wrong.  I stomped around grumbling about how ill-treated I was and how unfair everything was. (Now I have done this before as role-plays and they knew I was role-playing and giggled. No giggling this time.)  When they crossed paths with me I groused louder and with a more ferocious looks and harsher words.

Basically I scared the socks off them.

And then I asked Tater if my behavior was appropriate.  No.
Was my behavior selfish? Yes.
I was having big yucky feelings and making sure that everyone else in the house felt as yucky as I did, was this okay? No.
I might feel this way 3-5 times a day and I was going to handle it this way each time. Please don't.
Why not? It's not right.

Yes, Tater, I agree. It's not right.  It's not right if I am 46 and it's not right if I am 9.

And then I went and apologized to Garbanzo.

I just asked her to write down what she learned this morning.  She wrote:

I lund that I should not have fits and if I bo then Mom will be lick me.
I learned that I should not have fits and if I do then Mom will be like me.

I thought it interesting how quickly she recognized who I was copying.

Code Names

I'm searching for new code names for the kids. I'd like them to be soupy themed. Any ideas? My going idea is Mac for him and Cheese for her. I've settled on Garbanzo and Tater.

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