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.

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.

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.”

Tonight I’ll be taking my 3 kids to Seattle for a fun weekend while Jennie hosts a retreat for adoptive mom’s of special needs kids. We haven’t normally let the kids know when we are planning something fun since they’ll try to sabotage it, but this time I wanted them to help plan the trip (and we needed them to keep get their rooms clean) so we told them a couple days ago.

My son became noticalbly anxious at the announcement. He immediately began some of his nervous ticks – rubbing  his hair and picking his lips. This morning he was on a tyrade, refusing to comply with simple requests, asking silly questions, pretending not to hear…all the classic control behaviors of RAD kids. I found myself frustrated because I really couldn’t do anything about it. I had to take him to Seattle – there was no one available to watch him – and he was going to have to participate in every activity since I’d be parentng solo with no one to stay at the hotel with him.

Then I realized that is what he was working for. I called him over and told him, “I know you are trying to sabotage this trip, because if you have fun this weekend then it means you won’t have as many reasons to hate being in this family.”

In his confused little mind he thought that if he just was bad enough we’d send him away. He thought that if he allowed himself to have fun that he would start wanting to be part of our family and that would be one of the things he controlled that he did not want to give up.

I told him that even if he stabbed me with a knife that he was going this weekend, and that no matter what he did he was going to participate in EVERY activity. The only thing he had control over was weather or not he was going to have fun along the way.

We’ll see how it goes. I told the other two that every time he tries to wreck our fun we each get a “star.” Every five stars we get a drink at starbucks. Since Seattle is the birthplace of starbucks, I am sure that we’ll never be too far from one.

Feel free to chip in to our starbucks fund – its for the children!