Confessions of a Human Mom

I have a secret I must confess.

I am human.  *Gasp!*  I know, it’s a tough pill to swallow.  But I’ve been human for about 34 years now.  Because of the comments and emails I get from many MommyhoodSFS readers, I was beginning to think that I’d given you the impression that I had all the answers – that I had found a way to “cure” my kids somehow, simply because I send out messages of Hope and encouragement so often.  However, I need to remind you that I’m incredibly human with flaws bigger than my actual children!

The crazy thing is, my kids?  They’re human, too.  They’re human with an extra dose of crazy stuffed into their pockets.  And their humanity has been clashing with mine at colossal rates these past few weeks.  Yesterday, I was close to sending them out into the yard with shovels to dig holes (6 feet deep).  But instead, I chose to use words I would not normally say to them, scream until my throat hurt, and stomp my feet very angrily… because stomping angry feet is the tap dance of a Mama who has been pushed well beyond her limit!

(Bing Images - myparenthecial.com)

Did my kids break anything?  No, well, not intentionally.  Did they get suspended at school?  No, just the usual reports.  Were they aggressive?  Destructive?  Raging?  Again, nope.  So why have I unleashed my humanity so ferociously on these precious little people?

The only way that I know to describe it is this:

Imagine that every day, each time you saw your neighbor, he smiled at you and then walked over to shake your hand.  Except instead of shaking your hand, he flicked you in your forehead.  Every day.  Every interaction.  For 4 years.

Eventually, even the calmest person could find themself transformed into the Unabomber.  Not because being flicked on the forehead really hurts, but because it was constant.  Relentless.  And all the evidence points to the fact that it, quite possibly, may never stop.

I can tell you that I would give my neighbor a shovel and he would be out there digging a hole right alongside my kids.

But as for our house, I am constantly being flicked in the proverbial forehead with lying, back-talking, arguing, and the incessant attempts by these short ones to do all they can to tick the other one off.  This is followed by more arguing, more lies, yelling, stealing of toys, and doing things to get the other one in trouble.  For 4 years, this has been our daily constant.  And for almost a month, this has been our every waking moment.

I didn’t realize just how Unabomber I’d become until my kids missed their bus stop one day and were returned to the school at the end of the bus driver’s route.  Instead of them walking in the door at 3:48 that afternoon, I picked them up at 4:15 from the school.  And those 27 minutes were the most glorious of the day.  It was like being a kid and waking up, only to find there was a snow day.  I had 27 more minutes without arguing and fighting… 27 less minutes I had to hold back my humanity until bedtime.

You know you’re human when you wonder if you can leave them at the school even longer and go for a massage.  It was only out of love for our blessed principal that caused me to pick them up in a timely fashion… even if I did take the long way.

I’ve come to realize that I can love my children enough to feel immense anger at them when they act like hateful beasts.  I can love them enough to tap dance and scream when they refuse to follow simple instructions (ones that were given no less than 45 times in 10 minutes).  You see, I used to think it was hate… but I now know that if I hated them, I just simply wouldn’t care.  But I love them so much that I feel sick over the thought that they hate one another – that they may end up with no friends in life – that they may know what the inside of a jail cell looks like.  I love them so much that I am unable to hold back my anger when they act like anything less than human towards others or when they lie to my face for no apparent reason. 

I love them so much that I can have these strong feelings and know that I will survive them just the same.  So, to those of you that have flexed your humanity this week, that have given your kids shovels, or that have threatened the most ridiculous of consequences, you are not alone.  You are human.  And you do this because you love.  Know when to say you’re sorry, know when to own your mistakes.  But let us never question our big feelings, for they are what make us real.

If you, too, are human and need some extra parenting help, click HERE.

Radio Interview on Mental Health and Adoption

As a therapist, I recognize that good mental health is extremely important.  And as a mother raising children with mental health issues, I recognize that good mental health as parents is just as important!  After all, being able to deal with the daily needs of our children takes its toll, and if we aren't being mindful of our own limitations and needs, then we won't be enough for our children, and we certainly won't be productive in any of our other relationships either.

On my recent radio interview with therapist Tiffany Wherner in Tampa Bay, we discussed these very issues.  Remember, in order to be a blessing to others, we need to make sure we're taking care of ourselves first.  It's not selfish, it's a necessity.  If your family's plane is going down, you need to put on your own breathing mask in order to help those around you.

And so together we will encourage one another to improve our self-care.  Not because we see the other as weak, but because we know the immense strength it takes to parent children with mental health issues.  And we know that we, too, are worth it.  Embrace that today, Mamas and Daddies.  And pass the love on to the parents around you that are also screaming in silent.

To hear the full interview, click on the link below!

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To The Woman Who Thinks Adoption Will Make Her Happy

Dear Adoptive Mama,

            Hello, Sweet Woman.  I wanted to take a moment and talk to you, one on one.  I needed to reach out to you because, well, I’ve been in your shoes.  I, too, have a heart that breaks for every single child in need of a family – the abused, the neglected, the mentally ill, the physically disabled, the ones in the foster system, the drug addicted, the inconvenient, the unwanted. 

            And yes, my heart breaks the same for the ones with strong birth Mamas… ones that say, “I need to do this for my child – she deserves more.”  God bless those Mamas.  They do what is courageous and what requires more strength than anyone could ever possibly imagine.

            I, too, have thought that by taking in those precious children, I would find my life’s happiness.  I thought that I would find the contentment that was missing when I was told I wouldn’t have children of my own.  I believed that, by taking in another woman’s child, my life’s purpose would be complete and I would finally find happiness.

            And yet, My Friend, adoption did not make me happy.  You see, I fell into the same rose-colored worldview that many other Mamas have fallen prey to.  That vision of rescuing a child and loving them into wholeness – the idea that paperwork, finances, and legalities would “work themselves out in the end”.  I assumed that I was capable of handling anything that God gave me.  I would address each challenge with a smile, and my children would rise up and call me blessed.

            Perhaps I was delusional.  Probably naïve.  Definitely unprepared.

            No, adoption did not make me happy.  In fact, because of my faulty view of adoption, I found myself crying most of the time.  Why was no one calling me blessed?  Where were my tears of happiness? Where were my beautiful memories to be made?  Where was my perfect ending?  Probably in the same place as my missing jewelry and shattered belongings.

            You see, I had anticipated temporary obstacles when I should’ve been preparing for mountains that may or may not ever move from their place.  Had I gone in with seasoned eyes, I may have shed fewer tears.  But then again, who can say?  All I know is that adoption isn’t capable of filling ones’ need for fulfilment.  How can it when these are the words that you may hear on a regular basis:

“You’re not my real Mom!”

“I wish I could live anywhere else but here!”

“You hate me! Why did you even take me from my real family?”

“So, you bought me??”

“Are you going to give me back?”

“Why didn’t my birth family love me?”

“If you could’ve had kids, you never would’ve wanted me… I’m your second choice.”

            Trust me when I tell you that adoption will not fix your sad heart, nor will it give your life purpose.  After all, if you are looking for a child to do any of those things, it’s safe to say that you’re looking in the wrong place.  I know this, because once again, I was in your shoes.

            Between the rages and the aggression, the destruction and the massive break downs, the acting out and the suspensions – between all these things are also caseworker visits, court hearings, doctor appointments, therapy sessions, behavior management courses, and one million trips to the pharmacy each month.  Now, is this the case for every adoption?  Definitely not!  (So take a big breath and keep reading.)  However, being prepared for mountains is how you will keep your sanity.  It will be your survival guide when you find yourself locked in your closet, weeping into a bowl (pint) of Ben and Jerry’s.

            And I can assure you, whether you have the smoothest adoption or you find you’ve invited Damien Jr. into your home, there will be moments when you ask yourself, “Did I do the right thing?”

            And Mama, always remember that you are not alone when you ask that.  No parent ever is.  We all start out with a dream and end up smack dab in the midst of reality, and it’s usually not as beautiful as we’d hoped.  However, even if you’re being lied to, spit at, or cursed for the twentieth time that hour, you can face your mountain of the day with joy.  Tears, yes.  But joy, still.

            Because the only thing that will give you joy – make you feel complete – is knowing that you’re giving your all, every single day, for a child that needs unconditional love.  Whether or not that child ever thanks you, whether she ever recognizes the sacrifices you’ve made, whether he ever apologizes for how he’s made you cry… by the grace of God, you have risen each day and carried on.  THAT is what will make you happy, Mama.

Sincerely and with Much Love,

Striving for Sanity

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Growing Up Grateful

           Do you ever feel like you’re raising UnGrateful children?  I’m guessing that any parent can say ‘yes’ to that statement, because at some point in their lives, ALL children are ungrateful.  Quite honestly, many adults can be, as well!  But what I’m referring to is the child that cannot be sated.  As soon as they have a need, they want it met, and if that need is not met in a specific way by a specific person at a specific time, then life as they know it is over.

            I’ve noticed this intense reaction in my own children on more occasions that I care to count… sometimes, with my oldest, it’s almost daily.  Spend time with me, play a game with me, do a craft with me, take me here, take me there, buy me this, buy me that…you don’t love me, you never do anything for me, you never get me anything…

            The constant question of what we’re doing “next”, even after we’ve had a day full of fun events – the incessant need for what everyone else has, even if it’s something my child doesn’t want – the chronic desire to be entertained because they simply cannot keep themselves content – the tears of pity shed because they’re told ‘no’ for something outrageously priced or an item that they would never even use.  Holidays, birthdays, family get togethers, play dates… they’re just never enough.

            Whereas I recognize that this is a somewhat common event in the life of any parent, if you are parenting a child with trauma or attachment issues, I can bet my bottom dollar that you know exactly what I’m talking about.  Here are a couple examples of how this plays out in my own home.

1)      For Christmas, we bought the kids a stupid amount of toys.  I’m not kidding, it was as if we’d lost our senses and decided that what they needed in order to feel secure was more “stuff”.  After several hours of putting together a Barbie Dream House, my daughter, Taylor, now refuses to play with the toy unless I play with her.  And upon getting the guitar that she begged us for, she has touched it a total of 3 times… all times were with my husband or I.  None of her toys led her to be more independent or self-sufficient in the slightest.

2)      My son, Cameron, was also given new Legos, a scooter, and tons of building toys for Christmas – which is exactly what he asked for.  So, you can imagine my frustration when I constantly find his toys in the garbage can.  When questioned, he says nonchalantly that he doesn’t like them anymore.  Hundreds of dollars thrown down the drain for a few months use (some of which he didn’t even bother to use in the first place).

3)      Taylor and I played board games for 2 hours last weekend.  She got to pick the games and I was a good sport for 120 minutes.  (120 minutes of Balloon Lagoon is equivalent to a 6-hour dental exam, by the way.)  During this time, Wyatt, the not even 1-year-old, was able to keep himself entertained with his train set next to us.  Yet, as soon as the final game ended, she asked what we were going to do next.  And when I told her that I was going to get dinner started, she proceeded to act like an insolent child, pouting and whining that I never do anything with her.

4)      Cameron had earned money for helping his grandmother with her spring cleaning.  He then decided he wanted to use his money to buy toys at the second-hand store down the street.  He knew exactly what he wanted and was obsessed with making the purchase.  Several hours later, he was angry with his decision, frustrated that he is now penniless with something that he couldn’t stop talking about only hours before.

5)      After 4 years of living in our home, my children, especially my daughter, will not smile or respond to any person who gives her a compliment, a piece of candy, a valentines card… nothing!  Today alone, I had to prompt her 4 times in two hours to thank someone for doing or saying something nice to her.  (Not that she smiled while she did it, even with the prompts!)

6)      This morning, we took the children to an event at their school.  They’d been pleading with us to go for days and we agreed that it would be something fun to do on a Saturday morning.  Only once we got there, both children decided that it was “boring” and that they would take turns crying and pouting over the fact that we were wasting time doing something they had asked us to do with them.  Never a thank you, never a smile.

7)      Last week, Taylor threw a fit because Cameron had juice and she didn’t.  It was a juice that she had tried the previous day and hated.  She dumped the juice out and spent a large amount of time raving over its grossness.  And yet, the following day, Cameron was given the juice because he likes it, yet Taylor was given water.  She proceeded to tell me how unfair I am and that her father and I never do anything for her.

8)      Grandparents and relatives have given my children “heirlooms” – toys that were theirs when they were small, significant articles of clothing, letters written specifically to them, even jewelry or tiny items that hold significance and meaning for the giver.  Only, to my children, there is no significance – there is no meaning.  Instead, I find these items broken, thrown out into the yard, torn up, or in the trash. 

              Often, it’s hard to see past the lack of gratitude.  It’s hard to not become frustrated when they continually argue with each other over something small, but that they show no care at all for the important things in life.  Growing up, our family didn’t have much money.  Yet my brother and I, we played hard.  We were creative, we laughed, we invented, and we made good use of all we had.  So, when my kids act like dollar store items or thrift shop play clothes are beneath them, I take it a bit personally.  When they demand my attention 24/7 and expect me to give them ALL of my undivided attention or else something in my house will end up broken, a tantrum will break out, or the older kids will fight one another like gladiators, I feel like I’m being blackmailed to spend time with my own children!

              Are there any parents out there that can give me an ‘Amen’ to that?  When your children are equally as crabby when they’re given everything they want as when they’re grounded for fighting, you know there’s something a bit “abnormal” going on!  And that abnormality is, unfortunately, common in Reactive Attachment Disorder. 

              Children that didn’t get their initial needs met will strive to get any and all desires met from that point forward.  Expectations will always be insurmountably high, making disappointment a certainty.  However, wisdom tells us that material goods will never fill the holes in our hearts – money will never make us truly happy – all the toys in the world won’t fix an internal need.

             I wish I had a magic wand that I could wave and take away that inner struggle my children face.  I would wave it daily… hourly, even.  Because I know the feeling of unrest and discontentment.  It leads to anxiety and hopes being dashed.  It aids depression and feelings that life isn’t good enough.  And that’s not what I want for any of my children.

            I simply want for my older kids to be able to have half as much concentration as our toddler, for them to find joy in little things, for them to find peace and comfort in our moments together, without rushing ahead to look for something better.

            But I do not hold such magic, just an understanding that their actions are a result of a bigger issue deep down.  I hold the ability to not take personal offense when my children act like I don’t do enough, spend enough, give enough.  I have the power to reaffirm them in the important ways, such as time, prayers, homework help, praise… and I hold the knowledge that this is not a quick fix.  I recognize that children want all the things and they will always want.  But with consistency, the proper perspective, a bit of patience, and a good amount of praying that I can meet that BIG internal need instead, I think they may just stand a chance at growing up Grateful.

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