More and more, I realize how important having contact with other moms of hurt children can be for those of us on this journey.  Who else can understand our pain, joys, fears, and overall feelings?  This mom and I were discussing how abnormal we sometimes feel around those who don’t have wounded kids.  While others discuss their last pedicure or how well their child is doing in school, we’re dealing with urine, poop, and sex.  It can sometimes feel like we live in an entirely different world than everyone else.  And that can be isolating!

Having contact with others going through what you are going through can be so important.  We need to know that we are not alone, that what we feel is normal, and to feel like others care and know us.  For this reason, we have our once a month Forever Homes support group meetings.  While our vision is to have one in every city, right now the extent of the meetings has been only in the Tri Cities of WA state.  It has been incredibly exciting, though, to watch this group of people develop into a true community of people who care about each other and provide support to one another.  Such a blessing!  These moms have become my friends and cheerleaders. They are precious to me, and I am incredibly thankful for them!

We have also begun to have a time for just the moms to get together, because we all started to feel like once a month was NOT enough!!  (By the way, if you are interested in this get-together and live in the Tri-Cities, it will be this coming Thursday – June 11 – at 6:00 PM, in the banquet room at Round Table Pizza on Leslie Road in Richland – We’d love for you to join us!)  We moms need each other for encouragement, laughter, and hope.

For those of you who do not have a support group in your area, please do not give up hope.  You are not alone.  I know that you are very busy with your own wounded child, but I’d like to challenge you to the possibility of starting a support group in your area.  You will be able to meet other families going through what you are going through, and you can be there for one another.  

There’s just something about being understood that fills up our soul.  I think that’s the way God made us….to need to have connections that goe beyond the surface.  To be known, understood, and loved.  And sometimes that feels harder when you’re parenting wounded kids.  Not that many people really know what you’re going through. That’s why we need to stay connected to those who do.

Until Sunday.  I don’t know what it was about the service, but it touched me.  I suppose part of it had to do with the youth band playing with such passion, and it reminded me of a time when I felt passionate about God and life.  Another part was the sermon.  Well delivered, yes.  But, more than that – it was the topic that got my attention.  With garbage strewn all over the stage and the lights darkened, the pastor talked about how we gradually allow garbage into our lives and suddenly we find ourselves in darkness.  Now, previously I would have heard a sermon like that and would have associated the garbage with doing things that are bad for you, like going out and partying, doing drugs, etc.  But, God spoke directly to my heart.  The garbage in my life?  Bitterness, hurt, unforgiveness, self-pity.  Granted, those things can be understandable in the situation.  It’s not easy living in a toilet, with pee all around you.  Or having to watch your very own puppy at every second, so that no one hurts it.  Things like that become difficult to deal with.  

But God showed me something about the way I handle those things.  I tend to allow just a little bit of hurt to remain.  After all….after so many purposeful jabs, one is bound to feel hurt, right?  So, I kept a little bit of hurt as some sick, twisted badge of honor.  Look at what I’ve endured! 

Then, I allow myself the privilege of keeping back just a little bit of unforgiveness.  After all….most people would find it difficult to forgive such horrendous acts done against them?  Who wouldn’t find it difficult to forgive a child who wiped their hiney on your sheets, or smeared poop in your bathroom?  Who wouldn’t get frustrated at constant sneakiness, triangulation, manipulation, and plain old meanness?  So, I justified it all.

Until….I knew on Sunday that my backpack looked much like that stage.  Full of garbage.  I didn’t realize what I had been doing, until I felt so heavy that I struggled so much to even pick up my emotional backpack.  I wanted to run away.

God made it clear to me that morning, “You have been running away emotionally.  You need to either completely run away (from everything and everyone – and from My plan), or get yourself back in the game.”  I knew.  My kids weren’t going to change.  That’s just where they are at.  My husband….I love him dearly, but there are times he just won’t understand what I’m going through.  And that’s not going to change.  Men and women are different, and being the mother of wounded kids can be a much different experience than being a father of wounded kids….although both roles can be difficult.  No, it was clear.  Despite the fact that all I wanted to do was to whine to God and make Him change my circumstances, the only one in the scenario I could change right then was me.  And I needed to.  This isn’t how I want to live.

So, I wish I could tell you that when I came home the angels sang and that I was behaving like Mary Poppins toward my children.  But, I did come back a new woman, with a new attitude.  I can’t change anyone but me.  And I need to live the way that I know I should live.  Following God into the depths of human depravity, using His incredible love and mercy to heal what man cannot even begin to touch – the human heart and soul – will not be an easy task.  It’s easy, in the middle of it, to find ourselves elbow deep in muck.  And that’s not fun.  But, God never intended for us to be comfortable – He did, however, say that He would go with us and give us what we needed.  I just need to ask Him more for His mercy, joy (“the joy of the Lord is my strength,” Nehemiah 8:10), as well as His eyes to see my situation as He does.  I am learning.  Hopefully I get better and better at this whole following God thing.  

One thing she said really stuck out to me.  She said, “Sometimes it’s so easy to focus so much on the labels that we forget that these are just kids underneath all of those issues.”  So true.  So many times, we look at our children through the filters of Reactive Attachment Disorder, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Autism, Bi-Polar, etc, that we forget that underneath it all there’s a child.  Granted…..a hurting, scared, angry child, but a child nonetheless.

I am praying God to give me His perspective on my kids this week.  One of those perspectives, I’m sure, has to be…this is a child.  A precious child whom God loves.  Underneath all of the anger, hurt, and awful, mean, ugly behaviors….there’s a kid down there.  Wanting, but not knowing how, to get out and play.  Too scared to.  Too traumatized.  But wanting to.

So often we forget that.  And, I think that because the behaviors usually don’t match up with the age, we assume that they are just working hard to be manipulative.  Many times, when I talk with moms of very young children, the similarities of behaviors and thought processes will be uncanny.  Because of the abuse and neglect, most of our kids emotionally are very young.  While it’s hard to remember, I’m trying to picture a little three year old sitting there in the car, asking me a question he already knows the answer to simply because he did not get his way earlier.  Not easy to do in the heat of the moment, but sometimes it helps shape my response.

The moms who do well with wounded children have developed ways of thinking that don’t follow the norm.  They see beyond what presents itself to the deeper reality.  They see beyond the annoying behaviors, to the red flags begging for help.  They have learned not to take the bizarre behaviors personally, and know that the better they do at their job the more those behaviors may come out for a while.  I want to be that mom.  I know I’m not there yet.  I keep letting myself get to this place of exhaustion, getting completely annoyed with the ongoing jabs and purposeful behavior.  I find myself in need of new perspective.  Don’t we all!?

But my realization today was very freeing.  I don’t HAVE to like him.  In fact, I don’t know of too many people who would like this child if he treated them the way he treats my husband and me.  He is not fun to be around….at all.  So, I don’t have to like him…I just have to LOVE him.

I know that sounds mean and uncaring, but when you’re dealing with a child with Reactive Attachment Disorder, sometimes you have to give yourself permission to be human.  If you lived with a drug addict who was constantly lying to you, stealing your money, and smirked in delight every time they wounded you (either emotionally or physically), you would kick them out of your house.  And you wouldn’t enjoy being around them.  Some of our kids, without intervention, would have potentially been the future prison inmates, drug addicts, and generally dysfunctional and not very likable adults.  We can help them become more than that, but that doesn’t mean that we are always going to feel the warm fuzzies toward them.  I have found that with RAD children, those warm fuzzies are honestly few and far between.

To love a wounded child means, I choose to do what is best for him, despite how he treats me.  I choose to treat him with respect, do good things for him, tell him that I love him, give him loving eye contact, etc.  It’s ok for my love to be a decision of the will, simply because true love many times comes down to just that.  It is not about feelings or warm fuzzies.  It’s about making the decision to do what’s right.

So, for today, realizing that I am not required to like my child in order to be a good parent or to help him heal really did help me to like him better.  It helped take the pressure off.  Because I really do feel guilty for not wanting to be around my child when he tries to make my life miserable on purpose.  I don’t like not liking my children.  But, some days, it’s just the way it is.  And that’s ok.

Regardless of where they are at in this journey, I find one thing to be completely obvious.  These moms love their kids.  Whether they’ve just started out or have been doing this for years, they love their kids.  Whether they are feeling burnt out or completely rejuvenated, they are doing an amazing job…and love their kids!

Did I mention that they love their kids?  Do they get burnt out?  YES!  Do they tire of dealing with attrotious behavior?  YES, YES!  Do they always know the right thing to do?  Nope.  But, these amazing moms, through exhaustion and emotional fatigue, push through to figure out the answers!  They get up, every day, and keep on keeping on.  And that, in itself, makes you a hero. 

And, just so you amazing moms know….I admire all of you so much.  You have put up with more than what is humanly possible, and they keep loving.  Even when you feel like you hate your child.  It’s not the child that you hate….it’s the incredibly awful behaviors that are exhausting you.

Remember, moms….You may not always like your child’s behavior.  Who would?  But, you absolutely would give your life for them.  In fact, you do so right now, day in and day out, in the little things you do, despite how you feel.  You give your life for them every day.  And you deserve way more applause than you ever will receive in this lifetime.  Thumbs up to you!!!  Know that the angels in heaven applaud you, every day, as you’re dealing with a mountain of laundry because your child once again peed in his clothing on purpose.  They cheer you on as you deal with the dumb questions, constant chatter, glares, “I hate you’s,” stealing, lying, and neediness.  I know that sometimes you don’t feel like what you do makes that much difference (mostly because the change comes so slowly).  I know there are times you want to throw in the towel and take the next bus out of town!  I know sometimes you feel exhausted, beat down, alone, afraid, and like no one out there cares or understands.  I know.  I’ve been there, too.  

But God sees what you do, day in and day out.  He sees the heartache you feel in your heart.  He sees the aprehension and the wondering if this child will really be able to “make it” as they get older.  He sees all of that.  And He hasn’t abandoned you.  You are not alone.  And He sees you as AN AMAZING MOM!  Despite your discouragement and fatigue.  He knows.

Please don’t let the messages from your children (or other people, for that matter) tell you otherwise.  You know…the constant messages you get saying, “You can’t take care of me.” or “You don’t love me.”  or “You don’t ever do enough for me (or give me enough – attention, love, hugs, stuff, etc.).”  You are amazing.  You are the one for the job.  A tough job…undoubtedly.  But one you were created for and can do like no one else can do.  Not many people would be able to fill your shoes.  Most wouldn’t last a day.  But, you have lasted this long.  Your child still lives, right?  You haven’t yet dropped him along side of the highway for him to fend for himself yet, right?  That’s a huge accomplishment!!  :)  Give yourself a pat on the back!!!!  And, you take it one step further.  You actually do good things for this child who repays you by spitting in your face emotionally (or perhaps physically from time to time).  You keep plugging along.

I’d also like to remind you that you are not doing what you are doing for this child.  Yes, we want them to heal.  Yes, we do lots of stuff for this child every day.  But, ultimately, it can’t be for this child that we work.  Otherwise, our love will fail and grow weak.  No….our work must be for the One Who loves us, Who saved us, and Who every day gives us the grace to go another moment.  His love – endless.  His grace – ours for the taking.  It can’t be on our own or for our kids we work.  It must be for Him and in His strength alone that we do this work.

May all of you awesome moms (especially those of you who don’t feel so awesome right now) have a blessed day!  (And, usually when you don’t feel very awesome, it’s because you are dealing with way more than one person should have to.)  I pray for others to come along side of you and encourage you right now in the middle of your struggle and pain.  May God’s love come down and remind you that God loves YOU…not just your child.

I think part of it simply is because I had a break…and it felt good.  My husband and I went camping alone for the weekend, and I really relaxed.  No children screaming for my attention.  No pee shrines.  Only us – out in nature (and, his mom’s camping trailer, where we actually watched some movies, too).  Sometimes after a break I find it hard to go back into the mess.  It’s nice not to have to conduct multiple “therapy sessions” per day per child.  It’s nice for a while not to have to deal with all of their insecurities and fears.  But, then the break concludes, and I must go back into the muck.  And, the muck tends to be worse after we have had a break….my children’s anger over being “abandoned” for the weekend makes me uncertain of what kind of reception I will come home to.

Part of my breakdown also stems from earlier this week.  I felt very overwhelmed in therapy, and I think it took me a while to even realize it.  Not really prepared for even one intense session, and I got two of them (and then a third child who completely shut down and refused to talk altogether).  And they things the two shared were doozies.  Found out more than I ever wanted to know about my kids, what they are doing, how they think, and what they want to do.  You know….one of those sessions.  One where you walk out going, “Hmmmm…not sure what to do with that one.”  One that you feel the need to get a therapist for YOU afterwards, just to figure out how to process through all of the junk you just heard.

I find myself a little grossed out right now by my kids’ behavior and thought processes.  Normally I can take it, but it has just been a little too much too often lately.  Perhaps because they are just sharing more now, because of where things are at in therapy.  Either way, I find myself not quite sure how to continue giving them unconditional love right now.  I want space.  I don’t want to deal with sexual issues, bodily function issues, wanting to kill my new puppy, a constant need for supervision and a constant desire for attention.  It’s all a bit much for me right now.  I’m starting to feel burnt out…not as much as I was before, but I guess just burnt out on dealing with extreme issues.  I wish that part was over.  When do we get to the fun stuff?  Will we ever?

Today I found myself trying to figure out how to handle it all, when I was reminded of some old lessons I’ve learned while chatting with a friend today.  Something I’ve learned before but keep forgetting.  She asked me how I got out of my extreme funk last year, when I was completely and utterly burnt out.  I told her that I pretty much ended up sending my kids to the day camp at the Boys and Girls Club almost every day, thinking that would help.  Then, ONE week before school started, I realized, “Shoot!  I only have one more week of this extended schedule with a few more hours away from my kids.  Then school starts and it’s back to the normal schedule.”  I realized I wasn’t ready for it, and I also realized that I needed to do something drastic to change that.  So, what did I do?  I spent the entire week on me.  The entire time that the kids were at day camp, I went out with friends, listened to music, read books, sipped coffee.  Took life easy and took extreme care of myself.  And, after only one week, my husband declared he’d seen an entire 180 degree turnaround.  I went from complete burnout, where I didn’t even want to look at my kids, to being able to give and love again.  It was that obvious and that fast.  

So, what did I learn from that experience?  (And, what is it that I keep forgetting?)  I MUST take care of myself.  If I don’t, I will not be able to parent my children in the way I need to.  They need extreme measures of love, forgiveness, mercy, healing, and nurture.  I must give myself extreme measures of those same things in order to give them what they need.  And, frequently…I don’t.

Sometimes I don’t care for myself the way I need to, because, quite honestly, it feels selfish.  I look around.  I have several stacks of paperwork that needs to be done, mostly for my kids.  I have a master bathroom half done that needs for me to paint it in order to get it fully working (which, by the way, will be so wonderful…I won’t have to bring my toiletries back and forth from our only bathroom – just like I did in college – so that nothing gets peed in or stolen!  Yah!).  I have calls to make.  I have schedules to get ready for the summer.  I have so many things to do.  However, if I don’t take care of the one commodity that can help my kids heal – me – I won’t be accomplishing much, no matter how much of that I get done.  

But, too often, I let guilt get in the way of what I really need to do.  Guilt that my husband is working hard to provide for our family.  How dare I give myself a pedicure while he’s away at work?

We MUST take time to stop and smell the roses.  Sometimes, after smelling so much urine and poop for so long, we start to forget that roses are even out there.  We have to do those things that keep us connected to the beautiful side of humanity, rather than the utter depravity we experience every day.  We must connect with God.  Listen to music.  Watch a breathtaking view.  Stop and talk to a friend.  Read a book.  Whatever it is that fills you up.  Make sure you do something today that fills YOU up.  After all, junior can stay in his room for 30 minutes while mom unwinds.  It’s OK.

We as moms (and dads) of wounded kids MUST take extreme measures to take care of ourselves, so that we can help our kids heal.  That may mean using more of our budget to do things that to the outside world look like frivolous things, then we must.  For families with wounded kids….they “frivolous” things are absolutely necessary for survival.  So, don’t feel guilty if you NEED to get a massage every week or a manicure.  That sounds selfish and silly, but…it is NOT.  Take good care of yourself.  These kiddos needs for you to help them heal.  And, without you (and without you being sane and refreshed)….that won’t happen.

And, for those of you who know someone parenting a wounded kiddo….give her (or him) understanding when she needs to pamper herself a little more than the average person.  Perhaps you can even facilitate some pampering for her….

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

I have been wanting to get a lap dog for over a year now.  Mind you, we already own a Newfoundland dog who would LOVE to be a lap dog (all 135 pounds of him!), but he’s just way too hard to cuddle with – and he’s so large that he smells, even after a bath.  I have never really liked little dogs, but for the last year that hasn’t really mattered to me.  I have just wanted to have a lap dog.  REALLY bad.

Knowing how much extra work another dog would be, I have still begged my husband to consider getting a lap dog.  I used my best puppy dog eyes, but if I was honest with myself up until recently our circumstances really wouldn’t have made it a wise decision.  And, quite honestly, I was not even sure at first completely why I wanted one.  I just knew that I did.  I knew how much I loved going to my sister-in-laws’ house and cuddling with her two lap dogs.  Something about it felt soothing.

Last week, on an ordinary trip to Walmart, I passed a woman sitting outside on the grass with a litter of Chihuahua/Shih Tzu pups.  My mom was with me, shaking her head the entire time the kids and I pet the puppies and ooo’d and aaahhh’d over them.  It was love at first sight, however I refrained myself from running to an ATM machine right that instant.  It took great restraint, but I somehow managed to pull myself away from the puppies!

On the way home, though, I honestly prayed about a puppy.  I told God, “I really want a puppy, but I don’t even know if my kids are ready for us to have one.  I’m going to trust You with that decision.”  I came home, told my husband about how close I came to getting a puppy, and went on with my day.  A few hours later, my absolutely amazing husband walked in and surprised me with one of the very puppies I had just fallen in love with.  He had been on his way to Walmart to pick up something completely different when he felt as if God was telling him to get the puppy for me.  I love it how God knows exactly what we need and meets those needs without us even having to make it happen.

I have absolutely loved having this dog.  Despite the fact that all three of my kids either want to kill me or the dog out of jealousy, it has been worth it to have the dog sitting on my lap in the evening while I’m watching tv with my husband and kissing my face.  (By the way, my daughter wants to kill me with a fork…I told her she might want to come up with a better plan.  My son’s plan is to starve the puppy by interfering with his feeding times.  My other son just last night admitted that he wanted to kill the puppy, but up until now has been stealing the dog’s toys or hiding them on purpose.  I’m going to have to keep a close eye on this little guy.)  

I’m also realizing that my desire for a puppy really has had nothing to do with the dog itself.  And here is where the pathetic part comes in…

For over a year, I have found myself absolutely craving having some living thing that loves me unconditionally.  Ok….yes, I admit.  I’m completely pathetic!!  And – get this – I don’t even care how much work it adds to my load!  Really.  I just think I have the need for something I relate to on a daily basis to actually give the normal response.  You know…. if I show the dog love, it responds with love in return.  I pet it or feed it, and it responds by wagging its tail or giving me kisses on the cheek.  I don’t even care if it poops in the house, because I know that it’s not doing that  just because I made it do a chore.  The dog’s accidents are just that…accidents.  Not extremely calculated and thought out plots to pay me back for anything.  Just normal responses.

Because of the puppy, I have been more aware of my need for lots of positive input.  I was telling a friend last night about the puppy and I began to think about my recent responses to simple signs of affection or even expected courtesy.  When I have been with my kids too long without breaks, even normal kindness from a cashier feels foreign to me.  I can almost feel the tears coming to my eyes after someone smiles at me and says, “hello.”  Again, it makes me feel like I’m pathetic.  But in all honesty, when you deal with anger, rage, jealousy, and hurt day in and day out, you sometimes forget that there’s a world out there where that isn’t the norm.  Sometimes I feel like I one of my kids.       

Ok….I’d better go.  I want to play with my puppy a little bit before I go to bed.  And, by the way…his name is Sport.

But, really.  I know that this may seem silly to some of you, but to a mother of three wounded children with RAD (reactive attachment disorder), having any kind of energy, emotional or otherwise, can be an incredibly rare thing indeed!  So rare that there are times you start to think that within a few years, people will be confusing you with a character from “Night of the Living Dead.”  It’s not pretty.  And neither are those bags under your eyes.  You could pack for vacation in those things.

About a month and 1/2 ago, I went to the doctor.  I had become so exhausted that I didn’t even want to get out of bed.  Basically, she told me that my stress levels had been so high for so long that I was starting to go into adrenal fatigue.  For those of you who don’t know what that means, basically it goes like this.  When you undergo a crisis, your body thinks, “I’m going to die.”  The brain sends out a message to your body to put it on high alert.  All sorts of chemicals are released in your body that enable you to do whatever you need to do in order to get through the stressful situation.  Wonderful process….keeps us safe in the middle of a crisis.  The only problem:  It doesn’t distinguish when that stress comes from a car accident or an angry little boy trying nonstop to sabotage fun or to get you to give up on him by whatever means necessary.  No difference.  And when your body has been thinking “I’m going to die,” for a very long time, the adrenal glands get overworked and start to shut down.   Note: You do not want this to happen.

So, enough of a science lesson for today….back to the doctor.  She basically told me that if I didn’t change something, I would kill myself.  The body can only handle being at high alert for so long, and my body had been there for way too long already.  I needed to make some changes, and I needed to make them fast.

One of the problems for me was that I wasn’t sleeping soundly.  Evidently, when cortizol has been released (one of the stress chemicals), it can prevent you from sleeping.  I suppose that’s good when you are in the middle of a real crisis, but not really appreciated when you really do need to sleep.  So, she put me on some sort of cortizol blocker so that I could actually get sleep and allow my body to heal (it’s called Seriphos…you can purchase it online).  She also gave me a list of vitamins to start on in order to heal my adrenal glands and to help my body deal with the stress. For those of you who are interested, they included just a regular multi-vitamin, higher doses of Vitamin C, B Stress complex, and Pantothenic Acid.  She also put me on St. John’s Wort, for the depression.  (Note: 95% of the moms who do this kind of parenting are on depression meds, FYI.)

I cannot tell you what a difference those vitamins have made.  Within a week, my sister in law asked me, “What have you done?  You look so pretty!”  After we had a good laugh over that one, she clarified, “No, really.  You actually have color in your face!”  After that I had person after person tell me how worried they had become for me.  I didn’t even realize how exhausted I had become until I actually wasn’t completely exhausted.  I read somewhere that when you are in adrenal fatigue, you literally don’t even have the energy to care.  That made me feel so much better, because there were so many times over the past few months with my kids that I felt like a bad mom.  I honestly did not even have the energy to care about ANYTHING.

When I first was reading about parenting RAD children, one of the pieces of advice I ignored was, “take your vitamins, especially your B vitamins.  Take good care of yourself.”  Yea, yea.  Whatever.  You know, like we do with most advice before we jump into something.  Nancy Thomas‘ book “When Love is Not Enough” encourages parents of RAD children to first of all take care of themselves, so that they can take care of their child.  I didn’t listen to her.  I jumped in with both feet, putting aside any and all of my own needs, thinking I was doing the best thing for my children.  I wasn’t.

As moms of extremely wounded children, we actually have to take BETTER care of ourselves than those moms of healthy children.  We MUST take breaks.  We MUST get rest, nourish our bodies, etc.  I heard Dr. Laura on the radio today send a message to all moms out there to TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF!  She talked about how easy it was for us to feel guilty about doing things for ourselves.  She challenged moms to think about it this way….WE ourselves are the tool through which our children are parented.  If we don’t take care of ourselves, we cannot be of any help to them.  Trust me, I learned that the hard way.