Jennie and I talk after every session about what the kids have shared so I was a little baffled when all the kids were afraid to share anything with me in the room. Each of them had to go through the process of telling me the stuff about what had happened to them, and some of the bad things they had done, so that they could hear me say that I still loved them.

It is so wild to me that they would think that I didn’t know those things about them, but there was real value in them telling me so I could assure them that I still loved them, despite their baggage and behaviors. The longer I am an adoptive dad, the more I understand just how many parallels there are to God’s adoption of me. Love, forgiveness, and confession make a lot more sense seeing them from a Dad’s perspective.

On the day our kids adoptions are finalized we have a big party welcoming the kids to the family officially. Its kind of like a wedding ceremony for us. We gather family and friends, make promises to the kids, pray for them and give them meaningful gifts.

One of the gifts is a ring. We explain that the ring is a symbol of the promise we are making to be their parents forever. We buy the rings a little big so the kids can grow into them and have given them the option to wear them on a necklace. We fully expect they’ll keep them in a drawer. Actually, our first two lost their rings rather quickly. But our newest…the one that works so hard to express his hatred…has never had it off since his adoption day. That is quite a feat considering it is too big for him. He has to work consiously to keep it squeezed in between his fingers to keep it from flying off.

I find it ironic that while he is spending so much time trying to push us away and prove that we’ll abandon him, he his literally hanging on so tightly to the promise that we’ll never leave him.

Yes, for us we now spend the major portion of the budget money for our gifts on these two holidays.  And why, you may ask?  First of all, those other holidays now have lost their luster.  After so many once-enjoyable holidays completely sabotaged by angry children, you actually start to dread them.  I hate the fact that I don’t like Christmas anymore.  I love celebrating the birth of Jesus; however, the day itself, as well as the days prior tend to be, shall we say, less than desirable.  So, my husband and I have determined that Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are our new favorites.  We also have made this determination because we feel as if we’ve certainly earned the titles of “mother” and “father” over the past years!!  We work hard, and we have determined to celebrate our accomplishments during these times.  

Last year around Mother’s Day, I had really gotten myself to a place of complete and utter burnout.  I was homeschooling two of my hurt children.  They had become so clingy that even a trip to the bathroom on my part sent them into utter panic.  They tried to follow me around like ducklings.  The other child, who was at that point a foster child and could not be homeschooled, was just beginning to heal but had given us a complete run for our money for the eight months prior.  So, my amazing husband (have I mentioned how wonderful he is?!) gave me a trip to the day spa for Mother’s Day, where I enjoyed a massage, facial, manicure and pedicure.  It was amazing.  And much needed.  

For Father’s Day last year, we splurged on a camera that we’d been saving up for for a while.  It actually ended up being a Father’s Day/Birthday present for him but it was a treat nonetheless.  He has thoroughly enjoyed having this camera, and it now serves as a reminder of how much hard work he has put into fatherhood so far.  (Of course, the first subjects of his photography were the very children who earned him that camera in the first place.)

Yes, we mothers of wounded children certainly deserve to be treated like royalty on this new most-important holiday.  Kick back, enjoy, and treat yourself like a Queen.  After all, you are the Queen of your household!

And for you fathers of wounded kids?  Make sure you spoil your wife on Mother’s Day.  She had definitely earned Queenship, just as you’ve earned the title of King, in your family.  Treat her like the hard-working, heart-healing, amazing woman and mom that she is.  Especially since you know that your wounded kids do not and will not appreciate all that she does for them.  Maybe one day…..

“How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.”  Romans 10:15

Mommy shopping.  One of the joys of parenting wounded children.  For these kids, the grass is ALWAYS greener on the the other side.  That’s the way all of us think from time to time, but for these kids this way of thinking becomes a way of life.  No matter who they live with, they are always looking for someone better.

“What is mommy shopping?” you ask.  Basically, when a child with Reactive Attachment Disorder has fun with anyone besides mom, they tend to begin fantasizing about what it would be like if that person was their mom.  And….usually their current mom doesn’t stack up against their fantasy about what it would be like to live with this other person.  Their adoptive mom could be the most amazing person on the planet.  It just doesn’t matter.  It’s more about defense mechanisms and faulty thinking than reality.  Another way to keep their family at a distance when they start to get too close. 

When I’ve asked my kids to finish the sentence “If ______was my mom….” they usually finish it with ideas like, “….I wouldn’t ever have to do chores,” or “…they wouldn’t make me clean my room,” or “….they would give me way more attention than you do.”  Their fantasies have no grounding in reality.  They just haven’t had enough of an understanding of how things work in families.  They don’t get the fact that every family has issues.  Every family member must work in some way.  Every mom and dad must pay bills.  Moms and dads simply cannot give every waking moment to dote over their child.  No family would be good enough, let alone “perfect” by their standards.

When my daughter first lived with us, anywhere I took her she would try to leave me and go talk to any and every female in the room.  I’d take her swimming to have fun…she’d be over in the hot tub trying to get the attention of some unsuspecting woman.  Even after a year of living with us, I took her out to eat to have some fun, one-on-one mother-daughter time.  She spent the entire time watching a young family with complete yearning in her eyes.  Wouldn’t even look at me.  Wouldn’t talk to me.  I finally told her, “My darling daughter.  You look at that family with longing, as if your life would be complete if you could just be a part of THAT family.  Yet, you have a family right here who loves you that you completely push us away.  It wouldn’t matter what family you were in….you would never be content.  And you won’t be content, until you start allowing love to come in without trying to find it in every place you can’t get it from.” 

It takes a while to get rid of “mommy shopping.”  And it seems to pop up from time to time, as well.  This past Christmas break, after 2 years of living with us, my daughter went with a friend and her mom twice to do something fun.  When she came back from the second  time, she was beside herself wailing.  It took me two hours to calm her down.  When she started to be honest with what was going on, I (once again) had her finish the sentence.  ”If _____ were my mom….”  Her finish to the sentence?  ”….she would take me shopping every day.”  She honestly thought that because this family went shopping the two times she she was with them, that they did it EVERY single day.  Three year old thinking in a 12 year old body.

My daughter just spent last weekend with grandma, as well as some time with her aunt.  She had a blast, as she should with her extended family.  It was a fun weekend.  We set it up to be that way.  But, a week after picking her up, I could tell that all was not well.  I could tell that she had been doing some subtle “mommy shopping.”  Luckily, she has an amazing grandma and aunt, who, once they knew what she was thinking, were able to dispel the false thinking and explain that things would be the same if she lived with them (yes, she WOULD have to do chores and NO they would NOT take her shopping every day).  They both reinforced how much I love her and how good of a mom she already has.  That really helped.  Besides that, I made it clear that I will be her mom for the rest of her life.  Even if she found someone she liked better than me, she’s stuck with me….like it or not.  

Wounded children live with many fallacies in their thinking.  This is why they so difficult to parent and why therapy can be such an amazing help in their healing process.  This whole “the grass is always greener” way of thinking can mess with them so many times.  Part of our job is to help them get past this illogical way of thinking and living.  And, as hard as it is, don’t take the “mommy shopping” personally.  You could be June Cleaver and this child would be looking elsewhere.  It takes time.  A long time.  Don’t give up, and know that you are not doing something wrong when they start to do this.  It probably means you’re doing something right….you’re getting closer to their heart.

To say I was less than thrilled about having to go and get him at 11 AM would be an understatement.  This child has controlled so much of my time and energy with his antics, and this felt like another way he was in control of my time.  I didn’t like it.

To say that HE was less than thrilled about being with me would be an understatement, as well.  Lately he has been playing up the “I like daddy, but I HATE you with a passion.”  I get nothing but glares.  He acts out toward both of us, but seems to reserve his displays of extreme rage for me.  So, needless to say, he was NOT happy.

The entire time he was home he played his little, constant mind games.  Finally, I pulled him into my lap.  ”What’s going on, bud?” I asked.  After getting out the normal, “I hate you,” several times, he started listing off things. ”I’m mad that grandma and grandpa are coming.”  Yea, and what else?  ”I’m mad I ruined my chances to play the Wii for the week.”  Yea, and what else?  ”I’m mad because we haven’t gone on a big trip in a long time.”  (My husband just took them all to Seattle a few weeks ago.)  ”You can sit here and continue to give me fluff, or you can start being real and actually deal with what is going on,” I told him.  I was pushing for honest.  I wasn’t expecting the amount of honesty I got.

To make a long story short, our conversation ended up going like this.  ”You seem to keep going back to angry.  I know that’s more comfortable for you…..what do you think the angry is covering up?  Hurt?  Sadness?  Fear?”  ”Fear,” he stated.  ”What are you so afraid of?” I asked.  ”I’m afraid that if I let myself not be angry, you will find out the things that have happened to me.  Then I’ll be out another family and no one else will want me.”  Wow.  I could tell that he was starting to feel safer with us.  That was scary, because he knew that the safer he felt, the more that the old hurts were coming to the surface and that he would end up sharing them.  And he felt so ashamed of those things that he just knew we wouldn’t love him after that.

I reassured him of my love, no matter what he had done or someone had done to him, but I know that words are hard to believe for a wounded child.  I can only hope that, in time, he will choose to share those secrets that hold him down with pain and fear.  I want my child to be free.  I think we got closer to that today.

My parents are coming into town tomorrow from Wisconsin.  I miss them, so I’m really excited for their visit.  I’m getting ready for their arrival.  You know…..  The normal getting-ready-for-company routine.  Cleaning the house, making sure there are fresh sheets on the guest bed, getting the fridge stocked up, and making sure they have access to non-peed-on toilet paper (one of my children decided to pee on the toilet paper inside the package under the sink).  Ok.  Maybe not all of the “normal” preps.  But normal for us. 

I’m also preparing myself emotionally.  Having others in the house is tough for my kiddos.  Even if it’s during a time that they don’t get my attention anyway, like bedtime, they perceive others getting my attention as a direct assault and a complete rejection of them.  How dare I give someone else even a small portion of my attention?  The nerve!!  ”You must not love me if you are giving some of your attention to someone else at this moment,” seems to be their thought process.

When my brother visited from Wisconsin in December, my newest boy shot him constant darts from his eyes and gave him the surliest replies he could.  It was war!  My son was so mad that someone else was there.  Luckily, my brother thought it was funny.  

This constant desire for attention has become so much less than it used to be.  As my kids have healed, I have seen a huge improvement in the non-stop demand for attention (a typical behavior of a child with Reactive Attachment Disorder).  When they first moved in, it was literally non-stop.  Picking up the phone sent them into a downward spiral.  Going to the bathroom created utter panic.  Having friends over meant a week of more difficult behavior.  In fact, one of our good friends reminded us a while ago about how tough it was to have a conversation in the beginning.  The senseless questions, breaking things, loud obnoxiousness would ensue the moment our attention went elsewhere.  My kids have come a long way.

Up until recently, even a trip to the coffee shop with a friend would set them off.  I’d have at least a whole weekend of “payback,” just for being gone for 2 hours.  It sometimes didn’t even feel worth the time I’d spent getting refreshed, because the payback felt WAY worse than having the break.  So, for a while I just stayed home and allowed myself to get completely burnt out.  (Hence the adrenal fatigue…)  I used to feel like my life was completely trapped by my kids’ payback.  There didn’t seem to be any way to get away from it.

Our therapist has been amazing at giving me ways to work through this issue, and I have learned ways to keep the payback from bothering me, as well.  One thing that our therapist told me to tell the kids was, “Oh, sweetie.  I can tell that you need more practice at me being away.  I like giving my kiddos what they need, so I’m going to make sure that I schedule more times for me to be gone so you can have practice.”  It really worked!!  I have also gotten to the place where I say, “I would really love to spend time with you, but if you insist on acting out your anger instead of talking about it you will have to do that from your room!”  Before I go, I sometimes insist that they plan out their payback while I’m gone.  Sometimes just giving them permission to pay me back and making it a funny thing has diffused them.  Sometimes I have them write in their feelings journal, because they aren’t willing to talk about it.  (Did I mention how much they LOVE their feelings journal….bwahaahaa!)

It has been hard, but I am learning more and more not to take their behaviors personally.  I still have a long way to go.  I don’t think anyone likes to be completely rejected by anyone…even a child.  But I’m learning that I can’t make these children not be angry.  As our therapist says, “These kids are best friends with their anger.”  I am learning ways to deal with it, so that it doesn’t take me down with them.  And, hopefully, I can eventually help pull them up out of their anger and help them learn how to deal with it in a way that will actually help them be healthier than most adults out there!!  My kids are going to be emotionally and relationally brilliant someday!  I just know it!

For those of you who may not know, holidays can be extremely difficult for wounded kids.  In fact, I myself, as a parent of wounded kids, have begun to actually dread holidays.  They honestly tend to be the least fun days of the entire year.  After having dealt with crazy behavior for the days leading up to the holiday, I end up sitting through an entire family function, staring at a spot on the wall like a zombie.  Christmas has gone from my most favorite time of the year to a time I now approach with fear and trepidation.  And while Easter may not be as big of a deal to kids as Christmas, it still creates enough anticipation to evoke anxiety and acting out for my kids.

So, after deciding to go ahead and brave the consequences of allowing him to go to church, we attended the Easter service at our church.  Feeling exhausted and already defeated for the day, I only half-heartedly joined in the singing.  At some point during the singing of “In Christ Alone,” I felt my heart begin to melt.  I felt God smile at me, and it hit me that the work we are doing in our children’s lives actually requires the very power of the risen Christ to accomplish.  I cannot maintain God’s love toward my children.  Nor can I heal them.  I was reminded how often I parent out of my own strength, rather than depending on the power of Christ.

I feel like God used that service to set me up for the rest of the day.  We returned from church, picked up our salad, and headed off to grandma’s for the family’s Easter celebration. We got through the initial, everyone-hanging-out time, as well as the Easter egg collecting time, surprisingly without any incidents.  My husband and I did the normal “pat down” when we discovered that one of the cousins hadn’t found his egg with a $5 bill in it.  (From Grandma and Grandpa -It’s the highlight of Easter for all of the kids!).  We wanted to make sure that no extra money “accidentally” made it into their pockets.  No incidents yet…it’s a miracle!

Then, it happened.  Our newest son began his meltdown.

It started with a little bit of whining about not getting as many eggs as the other kids (my little guy tends to be very slow, and stressful situations, like fun events, tend to cause him to go even slower).  Sitting in my husband’s lap, he began to cry about how few eggs he had collected.  He continued his meltdown by “accidentally” picking up one of the younger children’s quarters that was laying on the ground below him.  After having to give the child back triple what he’d stolen, he started to really lose it.

I pulled him into my arms (he has been trying to avoid me and play the “I hate you and love daddy game” lately) and made him look at me.  ”This has nothing to do with Easter eggs, and you need to stop,” I said to him.  As he insisted, in his extra-whiny voice, that it WAS because of the eggs, I continued, “Sweety.  I know that you miss your foster family.  I know that holidays are tough for you.  I know that you DON’T want to be here and you would rather be there with them.  It’s ok.  We still love you.  We will get through this together, as mother and son.”  Oh boy.  Did the tears begin to fall!

I held him and comforted him as the sobs continued.  ”I know that they did things differently, and that’s hard for you.  You liked how they did things for Easter.  You were used to it.  It was comfortable.  That’s ok.  And it’s ok to be sad.  I would be worried about you if you weren’t.  I know this is tough.  I’m sad for you,” I told him.  The tears ebbed and flowed, but you could tell that the opportunity to grieve had softened his acting out (for a while, at least).

Poor little guy.  No wonder holidays aren’t fun.  The loss and the pain this boy has gone through does not take a day off when a holiday comes around.  In fact, special days bring up more pain than “normal” days.  This little boy lived six of the most important years of his childhood off and on with one family, only to be taken out and put with a different family at the age of 10.  He thought that the former family was going to adopt him.  They didn’t.  His heart is broken.  He wants to be with the only family he’d ever really known.  He’s grieving their loss.

Holidays bring up old memories.  ”My old foster family would have us hunt for Easter eggs, only they had a HUGE yard to do it in, so it was so much fun.  There were only three of us, so I was able to get way more eggs than I did here.  In fact, I got more eggs than my foster sister one year,” he explained as tears streamed down his face.  It has to be tough.  I don’t think any child should have to go through what these kids go through.  And only the power of the resurrected Christ can heal the pain that they carry inside as a result.  Only He can lift the result of someone else’s sin left on these children’s lives.

For those of you wondering how the rest of the day went….You will be happy to know that the rest of his time at Grandma’s went without much of an incident, but he did have to stay pretty close-by in order for this to happen.  He did get sent to bed early, however, for pretending to shower, but not using soap.  Oh, and as soon as we got home, our daughter decided to continue her bully behavior from Friday night (you know, the I’m-so mad-I’m-going-to-try-to-drown-you behavior from the pool).  Evidently, she’s still pretty ticked about her brother going to a concert this week and not her.  Seems that the jealousy monster doesn’t take a holiday, either.

Last night, after the dreaded feelings journal, two of my kiddos were able to get their feelings out enough to “pull it together.”  My original plan to take them all swimming right after school got pushed back a few hours, and one kiddo just wasn’t willing to get the mad out enough to stop playing mind games.  Bummer.  (Our favorite word.)

So, after just having done a therapy session with two of my kids, I packed them all up, dropped the still-angry child off at my husband’s work for him to work more on his feelings journal, and headed off to have fun.  We went out to eat, and then went over to the athletic club for some swimming.

At first, it was really fun.  I was actually able to enjoy their company, which was so refreshing.  They were being fun to be with, and it honestly was feeling a little bit like “normal” parenting.  Unfortunately, this was short-lived.  A short time into our swimming time, I notice that my daughter has been shooting me glares and “wrestling” with my son in the pool.  This wasn’t your normal pool-fun wrestling, however, as I noticed that it started to include some pretending-to-play-but-I’m-really-mad drowning attempts and some pretty hard pinching.  So, our fun trip to the pool had to include another therapy session as my daughter and I swam up and down the pool, trying to get to the bottom of why she was so angry.  She mentioned a few things, but I knew there was still more.  Then it hit me.  I was planning to take her brother (the one she was attempting to drown) to a Superchic[k] concert later that week as part of his birthday present, because his birthday  was the day after the concert.  Ah ha.  The old jealousy monster was rearing it’s ugly head once again.

As an aside, we deal with the jealousy monster on a daily basis, like I’m sure most families do.  When you deal with kids whose early deprivation and abuse has left gaping holes in their hearts, however, you will deal with the jealousy monster way more than you do with healthy kids.  Their early wounds leave them feeling like no amount of anything (attention, praise, encouragement, stuff, etc.) is ever enough.  No matter how much attention you give them, they are insatiable.  So, when you give a compliment to one child, you have two others freaking out that you did not give THEM a compliment.  I will say to one child, “Good job on your homework!”  Immediately, I have at least one child saying, “What about me, mommy?  Look at what I did!  Did I do a good job mommy?” and practically running me over trying to get me to give THEM a compliment.  Giving a hug to one child will send the others into an angry downward spiral, just because THEY weren’t the one who got the hug at that moment (even though you may have given them one moments before).  It’s just the nature of the beast (pardon the pun).

Back to the pool….Here is my daughter, the one I took to Seattle (without her brothers, mind you) only the week before for an overnight fun trip, completely ready to kill her brother because he is getting to go with me to a one-night concert.  And she is VERY angry with me.  Probably would have made the drowning attempts on me, except she knows I’m bigger than her.  We’re talking out and out rage.  Hatred.  All because she doesn’t always get to be the special one (On that note: just wait ‘til we talk about birthdays….birthdays are just a BLAST around the house when you have multiple wounded children.  Note the sarcasm.)

I’m learning that, when you are the parent of a wounded child, fun isn’t usually fun anymore.  At the very least, fun outings become a great source of anxiety for wounded children.  My still-angry child who missed the trip to the pool tries so hard to sabotage any fun due to his anxiety.  Fun is just too much for him to handle.  I find that, even in the midst of fun, wounded children are still wounded.  Most days for us include “therapy.”  I can’t seem to get away from it, even when we are supposed to be having fun.  Moment by moment, these children are dealing with emotions much to big for them to deal with on their own.  So, in the midst of a pool party, I am helping a child work through her anger and jealousy.  It is just a normal part of my everyday life to have to say many times throughout the day, “What are you mad about now?” or “Use your words.”

Immediately after arriving home (even though it’s a Friday, and that’s supposed to be more of a fun night), I had the kids get snack and then had them march back to their rooms, feelings journal in hand.

For those of you who don’t know what a feelings journal is….basically for us it is this: a regular, spiral notepad where I have them write down their feelings.  Sometimes I give them free reign and let them express whatever they want to.  Other times, I give them direction of how I want them to write.  For example, some times, I may have them write about why they are mad at me.  However, my kids would love to treat everything as if it really was all about things that I did.  So, I try to get them past that to acknowledge ways they are mad at other people, such as daddy, their teachers, the attachment therapist, birth parents, etc.  I also try to get them to look past the whole anger thing, because usually anger is a cover-up emotion for another emotion, such as sadness and hurt.  So, sometimes I have them write about why they are feeling afraid, sad or lonely.  Other times, I have them write about why they find it so hard to truly be happy.

I have found the feelings journal to be quite helpful.  My kids hate it.  But, I have observed that if they’ve gone more than a week without writing in it, I see the difference in their behavior.  Their anger comes out more and more.  They leak it everywhere in unacceptable behavior, unless they have the opportunity to get their feelings out in an acceptable way.  (And, even then we still get unacceptable behavior, but not to the same extent.)

I have even found the THREAT of the feelings journal has been a useful tool.  “Oh, sweetie.  Your behavior is telling me that you have a lot of angry/sad, etc. feelings to get out.  You can let me know that you really need to write in your feelings journal by continuing this behavior.”  Sometimes, that alone stops them in their tracks!  I get the look of sheer horror, along with a very enthusiastic, “NOPE!  I think I’m ok now, mom!”

When you’ve gone through as much abuse as my kids have, you are bound to feel angry.  Given the circumstances, this emotion is quite normal.  In fact, I would be concerned about them if they were NOT angry.  I am angry for them!  When they do not have the opportunity to get those emotions out, however, those emotions can and WILL seep out in unacceptable behaviors, both subtly and blatantly.  I have found that a combination of a good therapist (one who actually recognizes when the child is sharing just enough to stay unhealthy and not really getting to the core issues and being honest), time directly telling me and my husband how they are feeling (even though this is difficult for them, especially at first), and a feelings journal really help them to get these emotions out.

So many emotions, so little time! 

The issues my kids are dealing with very difficult issues.  Just hearing what happened to them makes me want to go hire my own therapist for the day after their therapy sessions, just so I can process it for myself.  I can’t even imagine having actually gone through those things.  It doesn’t seem fair that these young children should have had to go through the things they have.  It makes me want to whoop some….well, you know.

I tell my kids frequently that it really stinks that they have to deal with the things that they went through.  But….I tell them that it’s kind of like a hit and run accident.  You’re driving down the road, minding your own business, when someone smashes into your car and drives off.  Was it your fault that your car got smashed?  Nope.  But, do you have to be the one who gets it fixed?  Unfortunately, yes.  It would be wonderful if everyone took ownership of their behavior and was responsible for the mess they have made in someone else’s life.  That’s just now how life turns out, though.  We sometimes have to fix things that other people break.  Not fair.  Not right.  But that is part of life.

Some therapy days, I come back, tired as usual, but not feeling like we made huge strides.  Other times, you feel like a child has just unloaded the biggest secret they’ve ever shared with anyone up until that point.  The one they’ve held onto all this time.  The secret that has kept them in their pain.  Yesterday was one of those days.

I was so proud of one of my kiddos.  Yesterday my daughter dealt with issues that would be hard for an adult to deal with.  It took courage and bravery.  Afterward, you could see the big grin across her face, and I swear she was pounds lighter walking out of that session.  Yesterday was a reminder to me.  “Oh yea.  This is why I do what I do.”  Now, really I do what I do for one reason, and that is because God had called me to parent three wounded kids.  Aside from that, though, I get the added bonus of watching these kids heal and move past the horror of what they’ve been through.  Today was one of those days that made all of the difficulty we’ve gone through for the past month seem like nothing.  It was a victory.  As I looked into her face, I saw hope, relief, and a glimpse of freedom.  It was a good day.