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.
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