Day 11: Why parenting kids from hard places is a gift

Today is supposed to be Ipod shuffle day, but I only listen to audio books on my Ipod, so that doesn't work for me.  So instead I want to talk about parenting traumatized kids.
Any child that is adopted has experienced trauma.  I do not care how young the child is, how wonderful the adoption was, how ethical your agency is, how you burned sage and chanted so that the child became pure, or whatever.  Adoption is trauma.
Children all react differently to trauma.  Some kids seem to roll with the punches and looking at them, you would never know the losses that are part of their lives.  Some kids cannot overcome the trauma and are unable to transition into new families.  The vast majority are somewhere in between, struggling and thriving, often simultaneously.  Parenting kids who are struggling can be exhausting, but also is so beyond rewarding.
     A child with trauma behaviors does things that drive sane adults nuts.  Nonsense questions, bed-wetting, tantrums that make Joan Crawford look like Mother Theresa, all those things are so stressful.  Parents can feel isolated because other people don't seem to understand that this child is not behaving like all other children.  I am an experienced parent, I have seen countless tantrums.  I had never experienced a child kicking, punching, spitting, and screaming for hours at a time until I had traumatized kids.  I have heard numerous four year olds ask "WHY?" a billion times during the day, but the nonstop nonsense chatter is a whole different ball game.
     So this gift is starting to sound a bit like Pandora's Box.  But truly, it is not.  I have been an adoptive parent for 6 1/2 years.  Let me tell you about the positive things.  Adopting a child with trauma behaviors is like having a mirror up to your face that shows you every ugly thing about yourself.  It shows you all your failings, all your mistakes, all your imperfections that you try so stinking hard to hide, even from yourself.  It forces you to confront those things, head on.
     I hate being vulnerable.  HATE HATE HATE it.  Parenting my challenging kids means I am vulnerable.   It has been so wonderful for me to let people in to see my imperfections.  It turns out that friendships are so much deeper when we are not trying to maintain this facade of perfection with one another.  Had I not been challenged in my parenting and needed help, I never would have known the power in vulnerability.
     I am kinder and more compassionate.  I can be judgmental.  I was unable to look at the world except from my own narrow sphere of experience. Now I know that the control that we pretend we have in our lives in an illusion.  The things I control start and end with me.  I cannot control anyone else, no matter how loud or justified or sanctimonious I am.  I can now see all the gray between the black and white that defined my life before.
     I am stronger.  I know that strength does not mean taking a stand and rooting there unable to budge.  I  can change my opinions, my beliefs, my life when I need to, because strength lies in flexibility.  Strength means hanging on, even when you are tired.  Strength means forgiving yourself and asking others to forgive you when you make the millions of mistakes that you will make.  Strength means asking others to apologize rather than wallowing in your own self-righteousness.
     I am humble.  I dare not say that I have something well in hand, because God only knows, I will have to eat my words.  I have struggled with pride, but have had to give up so much of that, because pride doesn't serve me well.  I can be proud of myself, that is fine, but to act as though I have things figured out is laughable.  I could give you countless examples, and if you know me in real life, ask me about the day D refused to get dressed for school.
    I take care of myself.  I know that if I don't take care of myself, I cannot expect others to do it.  I know how to take a break, how to recharge, how to nourish myself.  I don't tolerate relationships that are toxic because I'd prefer to deepen the positive friendships that I have.  I will not spend energy on things that don't matter.  I am not interested in getting knee deep in the BS of life anymore.
     Parenting traumatized children is difficult for sure, but it has made me better on so many levels.  I'll do a whole other post on how rewarding helping children find themselves is, but from a purely selfish standpoint, looking in that ugly mirror has motivated me to change.  And change is good.
   

Day 10: First Love and First Kiss

So my first true love is my husband.  Without a doubt, he is the only person I have ever fallen in love with. I remember that heart-fluttering, time-stopping feeling so well.  We are still in love, for sure, but luckily, that giddy, exciting, calling-into-work-sick-so-you-can-spend-more-time-together thing doesn't last forever. I love that the feeling of falling in love has changed over time into a comfortable and reliable being in love.

My first kiss was years before I met my husband when I was in sixth grade.  I was going out with a boy, which consisted of a lot of hand-holding around the school.  He gave my first kiss and then after two weeks, we broke up and I joined the official club of girls who he had gone out with before me.  It was quite a club.  Apparently, he had held hands with many girls before me.  The loss and utter tragedy.  We went to different high schools, but played a common sport, so became buddies again in high school, although we were never close friends.

Day 9: The Future

I hope to have grandchildren.  I hope to have good, strong, healthy relationships with my grown children.  I hope that my children find life satisfying.  I hope that my husband and I continue to have a strong relationship.  I hope to travel.  I hope to look back on my life and feel like I have crossed all my goals off my bucket list.

Day 8: Satisfaction

Today I am supposed to recount the last time that I felt deeply satisfied.  It was last night, around the dinner table.  I love having the people I love sharing a meal together.  I love the evening prayer, followed by a chorus of "Free to EAT!!!"  I love the chatter and the silliness.  I love having enough food to fill every tummy and I love watching my children who have known hunger feel secure.  I even love the gross burps and farts that are almost a nightly ritual.  I love watching my children interact with each other as they tell stories about their day.  There is no safer, more comforting feeling than being around that table.

Day 7: Zodiac sign

I am an Aquarius and I fit my zodiac sign pretty well.  I am weird and independent, honest and loyal.  On the down side, I am stubborn and can be unemotional.  I tend to see the practical side of everything, and I take the long view of almost every problem.  I love being around people, but I also need to have alone time to feel totally relaxed.  I am friendly to almost everyone, but despite appearances, I am not very open with many people.  I have only a few close friends at any given time.  I like to see the good in everyone, but want people to say what they mean.

Day Six: 30 Interesting Facts

1. I started dating my husband when I was 19.
2. Our 3rd and 9th marriage anniversary are the only two years that we have not had the corresponding number of children.  We got our referral for P one day after our 3rd anniversary.
3. I used to be able to speak German fluently, although I have lost a lot of the language now.
4. I was a state champion wrestler my senior year of high school.
5. I am learning sign language.
6. I didn't get confirmed in the Catholic church until after college, although I was baptized Catholic as an infant.
7. I would like to have 12 children.
8. My husband proposed while we were in Germany.
9. I cannot take naps without being completely groggy and grumpy for the rest of the day.
10. I love to read and read an average of 2-3 books/week.
11. I had never dusted anything until after I graduated from high school.
12. I want to vacation in Thailand and hang out by the beach.
13. I want to vacation in Italy and hang out in farmer's markets and restaurants.
14. I have been a vegetarian since I was 9.
15. I gave up cheese for 6 years in a misguided attempt to become vegan.
16. Cheese is my favorite food.
17. I have weird urban hippie dreams about owning a mini-farm.
18. I am way too lazy to have a mini-farm.
19. I am a horrible artist and cannot sing to save my life.
20. One of my bio kids is a great artist and another has perfect pitch.
21. I love to cook and spend one to two hours in the kitchen every day.
22. I think minivans are cool.
23. I love having guests.
24. Although I am a vegetarian, our family ordered two cows, three pigs, and 64 chickens this year for meat-eating purposes.
25. I have extremely vivid dreams.
26. I also have extremely vivid nightmares.
27. I am truly happy most of time.
28. Self-deprecation is totally hot to me.
29. I love almost every ethnic food there is, but I intensely dislike restaurants like Chili's and Applebee's.
30. I am a food snob.

Day Five: The day I lost the blog challenge questions

And then I found them again.  Because I rule.  And then I bookmarked them so I wouldn't lose them again.  And then I looked at today's topic and almost pretended that they had stayed lost.  Today's topic is "A time when you thought about ending your own life."
Yikes, suicide, on my tenth or eleventh blog post?  That seems a little deep and morbid.  I have been bummed, of course, in my life.  There were times when I probably had a touch of depression.  I have never seriously considered suicide.  The closest I have come is when my youngest child was very sick and I thought, "Please take me instead.  I will gladly trade."  
I can remember being in 8th grade and getting majorly busted by my parents and telling a friend that I should just go kill myself, but that was more about drama than actually wanting to end my life.
I know that many people have been in DARK places where ending their lives felt like a better alternative than living.  I am super fortunate to have not been in that position.

Day Four: Opinion on religion

Religion is such a loaded topic.  To begin, I am Catholic.  I love being Catholic.  I adore my church, which is a wonderful community.  Last week, I was visiting my parents and went to Mass with my father.  There were 60 people in the church sitting in 50 different pews.  There were no alter servers.  No one made eye contact or held hands during the "Our Father."  As soon as the priest said the final blessing, the church emptied so quickly that I was shocked.  The entire time I was at Mass, I never felt the peace and acceptance that I take for granted at my church.
I realized why some people are so put off by religion.  I will never be the type of person to beat my Bible at you.  I don't use Jesus to explain my bad behavior and I surely won't judge or try to save you.  My religion, while important to me, is my personal journey.  I need that supportive community.  I love having people from my grandparent's generation tell me about their large families.  I love recognizing people in my neighborhood because we share a common experience every Sunday.  I love that four generations come together in one place, from the newly born to the elderly, to share together.
I need to believe in something bigger than myself.  I need the quiet and the peace that comes from spending an hour in reflection every week.  I love that my children have a deep connection to their faith and their faith community.  Church for me acts as a reset button and allows me to start anew every week and put the past week in the past.

Day Three: Opinions about drugs and alcohol

In high school, they were the cool kids.  They hung out in the concrete area in the back of the school, near the tennis courts, earning them the nickname "The Backlotters."  You know who I'm talking about.  The kids that snuck cigarettes almost out in the open.  The ones who didn't care about making their teachers mad.  The kids who weren't afraid of getting in trouble.  Even if you didn't admire their tactics, you had to admire their chutzpah.
But then, the Backlotters that you started freshman year were not as numerous.  Some dropped out, some had gotten in enough trouble to get kicked out, some parents sent their kids to rehab or boot camp.  A few hung on until graduation, but the ranks were severely diminished.
I would never imply that smoking cigarettes leads to a life of doped-up crime, but having a penchant for breaking rules rarely helps to endear one to authority.  The kids in the backlot rarely were given the benefit of the doubt by teachers.  They were usually guilty until proven innocent, and that is tough for kids.  Choosing to rebel, which is fun, leads to getting into trouble that sometimes you haven't earned, which is less fun.
As a mom, I talk to my kids about drugs and alcohol a lot.  I tell them that lots of kids experiment and lots of kids can try drugs and be fine.  They can try it and move on and never have the desire to try it again.  But some people can't.  Some people will find that when they try something, they want it more and more and they are not able to control that on their own.  I tell them that they don't know which kid they are until that happens, so the safest route is to just never try something that could hurt them.  My oldest is 10, so this logic totally suffices for now.
As my kids get older, the conversation will change.  I can tell them about the kids that used drugs when I was in high school.  I can tell them about how many of them blew out of high school, how the decisions that they made as 14 year olds affected them for the rest of their lives.  I can tell them about how if a "good kid" accused them of cheating, those kids would be suspended, even without proof.  I can tell them that I cannot control their choices, but I want them to realize that sometimes small choices lead to big choices.  Sometimes you start walking down a path and you meander along for a while, and then realize that you are not headed in the direction that you want to go at all.  Then you have to scramble and find your way back to the fork in the road and that can be impossible.
I don't know what I would be writing if it were ten years in the future and I am embroiled in the teenage years.  Do my children listen to my opinions?  Will my voice be like Jiminy Cricket and guide them through tough decisions, even when I am not there?  Will they know who they are in a way that makes drugs less appealing?  I hope so.  Until then (and let's be honest, always), I will keep that conversation open and hope that they can find some truth in it.

Day Two: Where do I want to be in 10 years?

On a island, near a beach, with a fruity drink in hand.  The end.

Actually, at that point, if all goes according to plan, we should have 3 high school graduates, one senior, two juniors, one sophomore, and a seventh grader.  I will be deep into the teenage years and all those challenges.  We will probably be going at least 12 directions every day, but I still hope to have dinner together.  I want to have the hang-out house.  I want to see 5 extra faces at dinner every night and know that our house feels like a safe place.
I want to volunteer more.  I would like to help support young moms and adoptive parents.  I want to help my kids figure out dating, relationships, and growing up.  I want to watch them become adults and enjoy the process.
I want to have a wonderful relationship with my husband.  I love where we are now and I want to love where we are in 2021.  I want to enter middle age gracefully with him.  I want to still love the life I am leading.
Those are the goals.  It will be interesting to revisit this in a few years.

World's Worst Blogger

So I just saw this thing on pinterest that was a 30 day blog challenges with topics.  I need topics, gosh darn it, so I am going to try to stick with this and blog regularly again.  Day one is my current relationship, so here goes.
I am married and will be celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary in a few months.  I love my husband, and perhaps more importantly, I really like him. He is a great partner and without his help, love, and support, this large family thing would not be nearly as much fun.
My husband and I met in college and started dating when we were wee babes of 19.  I think about who we were then and who we are now, and in some ways it is amazing that we have been able to change together because we have both changed a lot.  We have grown up together and I am so thankful that we are together.
I love my marriage, but I didn't expect how much fun it would be.  I love the inside jokes that come with living with a person long term.  Don and I have so many of the same turns of phrase that our language is almost foreign to outsiders.  One of my favorites is "mellow and cruisy."  We took snowboard lessons together once and the instructor referred to the mountain as mellow and cruisy.  (I, personally, don't feel particularly mellow OR cruisy while falling on my tush every two seconds and nearly colliding with trees, but that is another story all together.)  Mellow and cruisy is the new black in my family.  People who are hippies, mellow and cruisy.  Children being insane, mellow and cruisy.  Irrational driving, mellow and cruisy.  People entering the medical marijuana stores, mellow and cruisy.
That is marriage.  The dorky things that are not funny to anyone but you two.  The inner nerd that you cannot hide in a long-term relationship.  The one liners that are yours alone.  I dig my husband, and hopefully, it's mutual.