Oh Man

Sometimes I feel guilty because the kids have healed so much. I listen and read about others who are really struggling with big, giant, behaviors and issues and I feel like an outsider because we don't deal with it on a constant basis. I'm relieved that we aren't living in that level of chaos daily and guilt ridden by the relief.

And then we have an episode like the one a few Fridays ago that rolled into Saturday and I feel silly for letting myself believe we were in such a great place.  We can't be. The trauma will require life-long adjustments and healing. We always have to be prepared to deal with the triggers and the false sense of stability sometimes knocks me on my ass. When it was daily I felt like I was always at the ready. But when the rage and tantrums come out of nowhere, I feel like I'm totally unprepared. And for whatever reason, those really great trauma parenting skills I've learned are hard to tap into at those moments.

Sarah is struggling right now. She's watching Stella get some responsibility and freedom since entering middle school. There is a major case of envy. Add to that a parent visit day at school and her birthday and mine and we have all the ingredients for a triggered kiddo.  So of course the logical thing for my Sarah to do is just start doing what she wants.

For example:

Me: Where are you going? You are getting on the bus to day care. I will pick you up there after I run my errands.
Sarah: I know

Me: Hello?
Hubby: I got a call from the principal. He said Sarah got confused and started to walk home from school. She said you told her she was going home with you. He told her Mom would pick her up from day care later but he was worried about the wording being triggering that you weren't picking her up now.

Later that day I notice a car driving up and down the street slowing in front of our house. Sarah and Smiley ask to go outside and two girls get out of the car. I go outside and the Mom waves to me and says: "I'll pick my daughters up at 7:30."

I'm sorry?

Me: Sarah?
Sarah: Remember I told you about my friend? I told you she was coming over.
Me: Excuse me? You told me!? I have 15 people coming over for a party in 30 minutes.  I certainly did not give permission, nor did we discuss it. After I get done explaining that to this Mom in my driveway you have some major explaining to do.

Commence Tantrum.

Stomping up stairs, throwing things off the bed. Trying to shut the door on me. Pounding on the floor so loudly the people below setting up for the party could hear. Screaming and yelling. "You're not the boss of me. I don't have to listen. You aren't my Mmm....."

She stayed in her room all night and woke up in much the same space the next morning. When I asked her to sit on the floor for her safety and she iron gripped the bed frame, I called our therapist, something I've not done in the nearly 3 years they have lived with us.

She coached me through the technique. Directed no consequences. Helped me get out of my "typical parenting brain". By the time I went back into Sarah's room, she had gotten unstuck and started with "I'm sorry.". 

She wet the bed that night.

And then it was like it was out of her system.  We even managed a visit with Sheila the next day. No issues.

She Never Cried

Sheila called to wish Sarah Happy Birthday and she shared a story with her that as a baby she never cried. Not when she was hungry, not when she was tired, never. She never cried.

A little later Sarah said to me:

"Mom, my Mom said I never cried. I don't really believe that. That can't be true can it? Don't all babies cry sometimes?"

Oh my sweet girl. The red flag went up for her too. As I listened to Sheila share this story fondly, I felt sad. That was a sign of her RAD. That was because she couldn't count on adults. That was because she cried and no one came so she learned not to cry.

"It doesn't sound right to you, does it?"

"No."

"I know your Mom shared that story because she thinks it's cute you never cried. It made me sad. You are right babies cry so adults take care of them. You know how you had a lot of different adults that were supposed to take care of you as a baby?"

"Yeah, like 10 foster parents."

"Well I think maybe they didn't take care of you like they were supposed to and so crying didn't get their attention. I think it's  connected to your big feelings. You didn't cry because you weren't being taken care of and that makes me sad."

"So why did my Mom make it seem like a happy story?"

"Sweetie, she doesn't know it's not a happy story. She doesn't understand.  It's part of the things she doesn't understand about how to take care of kids the way she needs to."

"I understand now."

How I wish she didn't have to understand anything. However, I'm grateful that we get to hear birth stories and tidbits like the full head of hair she came out with. And I'm pretty proud of my kid for questioning the thing she didn't understand. 

Thunder

We've had some pretty bad storms here in Chicagoland. Sarah's PTSD kicks in during thunderstorms and tonight she knocked on my door and said she couldn't fall asleep and didn't know what to do.

This was huge! Huge. Bedtime was already going to be tricky as the town next to us had fireworks tonight and they were so close to us, the finale shook the house. She was already triggered heading to bed.

In the past, she's shared memories of being with her biological family and being made to walk outside during evening storms to another building to use the bathroom. We have no idea if this was once or frequent but we do know that she was under the age of 5. This coupled with her witnessing of domestic violence means that loud noises and darkness are triggers to her PTSD.

Most kids are afraid of thunderstorms. But as I Kaye's in her bed with her, I could feel her entire body shake. But we reached a point where she could trust me enough to 1) tell me there was a problem 2)tolerate my safe touch, 3) allow me to lay with her and calm down. I told her sometimes people say the thunder is the Angels bowling. We talked about how to ask our angels for help. I reminded her why she is afraid of storms. We focused on listening to the rain on the roof and we counted the time between lightning bolts and thunder claps. She said the last trick helped and when I felt her body calm, I left her to sleep. Which she did.

It's so hard to see my kiddo at a total loss of how to self soothe but I am so proud that she was able to tap in and use her tools to get help to get there. But man, 5 years later and the trauma and danger are still real for her. It's moments like this where the Mama Bear in me wants to hunt down the idiots who were supposed to be taking care of her and give them a taste of their own medicine.

Alphabet Soup

I was late. This is not unusual but I try very hard not to be late to pick up my kids because their experience is that Moms and Dads aren't reliable and sometimes don't come back. I was complaining to Hubby that is had a really hard day. I was anxious about all the new changes at work. I had a bad headache that was turning into a migraine and I was really tired. He told me I should bow out of therapy and escape to our room for the night and he would handle life. (I did that for him the day before as he was starting a new job today and he was feeling anxious.)

When I pulled up and saw the fire truck outside the building I knew it was going to be a rough night and there would be no break. I was right.

The fire alarm went off at daycare. The firefighters and police showed up. The kids were ushered to a safe place and there was no danger but that doesn't matter to the brain of a kid with PTSD. Nope. She was terrified. The minute I showed up I could tell she was still in dissociative mode. The new teacher was, of course, oblivious. 

Of all the days to be late, I pick the day where the authorities show up with their sirens and lights and loud noisy alarms have been ringing. And the minute I locked eyes with Sarah I knew she was struggling to keep it together. Because that's what kids with RAD do. Her eyes started to water immediately. On and off from there until bed time she alternated between crying and not crying. 

She asked right away to play Sad, Mad, Glad at dinner. Each person goes around the table and names one thing from the day that mad them feel each of the emotions. I knew it was her way of trying to tell us she wanted to talk about what happened. That's what kids who are healing do. 

She went first and said she was mad that the fire alarm went off and then she started to cry again. It was so hard for her to talk about. She was mad she felt scared because she knew she was safe. Once again, we explained her PTSD. We explained she has no control. We explained that at some point her body reacted like that to unsafe situations. We demonstrated that Simon and Stella were also worried and scared when it happened. (Smiley of course was just fine because in her world that's the  way it is.)

Then we discovered that Stella is being bullied by a kid in her class. The "that other kid is my friend and I don't want you near her" variety. And this kid is at daycare and was also mean to Sarah when she stood up for Stella. So of course that brought tears. So did the math homework and the spelling practice. 

Of all the nights for a migraine....But we kept calm. We stayed patient. We got therapy, dinner, and homework accomplished and everyone went to bed. Including me, at 10pm which is something I never do.

It was a win for us today. It took a lot of work, but it was a win.

Am I Really?

I had Sarah's 504 plan meeting last week. It was the annual meeting to qualify her for classroom supports based on her PTSD diagnosis since it had affected her in class. (Which Caseworker #4 actually said he was "surprised it was necessary for her to have a 504 plan"....let me clue you in- don't say sh*t like that.)

Her amazing therapist came and reminded everyone just how far my kid had come. Somewhere along the way I missed actually hearing her diagnosis of Reactive Attachment Disorder but it's in a report somewhere. While she has basically fallen off that spectrum (not exhibiting signs) her therapist reminded us that we must keep working with her as if she still had RAD as to not backslide in our progress.

When the meeting concluded the very well meaning staff applauded our family for being a foster family and adopting. It was the usual - you are amazing/the kids are so lucky.

And as I got in the car I thought, am I that amazing?  I was 5 minutes late to the meeting. I had no idea what my kids wore to school as I was in the shower when they left. I assume they ate breakfast.....And then again later that night when I blew up at my kids. Totally lost my cool at being asked about a snack before dinner (because hello I was a neglected kid and didn't always know where food was coming from). Then resented that I have to be so very careful all the time because of all the hurt caused by others. And then of course there was the adorable pregnancy announcement from a sibling and a baby shower thank you card that came in the mail today. 

Yeah. I'm a real wonderment. Sobbing in my room because I feel guilty for wishing that this was an easier road while also knowing that there is no such thing.

What qualifies people to tell strangers they are amazing parents? I could be total crap.