We've been mulling over the topic of gratitude lately. We've seen the lack of it a great deal over the years in caring for foster children both from birth parents and older kids and teens. That's okay, we can deal with that. We're not in it for the thanks or gratitude (or the "money"....just for record).
What is bewildering, however, is not the lack of it from time to time but the total opposite of it. When you have given of yourself and made sacrifices for the benefit of someone else and yet despite all that you have given the receiver/taker turns things around and not only blames you for their problems but piles on accusation of harm, well, it's a bit of a shock every time.
Recently we read an interesting book by Robert Emmons entitled Thanks! How the New Science of Gratitude Can Make You Happier which nailed this phenomenon exactly.
From his book, "Ingratitude is not the same as forgetfulness, or what I am calling "nongratitude". The main difference between the latter two is that in cases of nongratitude, the person fails to do something---fails to respond to a gift with an appropriate feeling and display of thankfulness. Nongratitude is essentially forgetfulness.**Whereas nongratitude is an omission, an absence, a type of forgetting, ingratitude is the presence of something negative. It is a form of punishment. When a person is ungrateful, they respond with hostility, resentment, or in some other way choose to willfully disparage the gift and the giver.**Failing to acknowledge gratitude is not morally equivalent to responding to another's benevolence with hostility and resentment."
Emmons describes gratitude in two parts, "First, gratitude is the acknowledgement of goodness in one's life." and "Second, gratitude is recognizing that the source(s) of this goodness lie at least partially outside of self."
Why are some kids grateful and some kids hostile? I'm sure there are a multitude of reasons and each of our kids, obviously, has come from a difficult past. It's hard for many of them to move on from what they lost in order to be grateful for all they have been given. Some will not acknowledge the help they have received preferring others to think they have done it all "on my own."
We have definitely found that those who are grateful are much more able to accept their situation, move on, forgive, and take responsibility for their own problems. They are more likely to give back, contribute, and show affection. One cannot demand gratitude from a child/teen and it seems self-serving to do so but the fact is that those who are able to count their blessings more than their resentments are likely to be far happier and more successful in relationships and life.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Disappointment
Squeaker was supposed to be picked up today by her younger birth sister and sister's dad to drive down the coast and go to the beach like they "used to do when they all lived together."
She ran half of the way home from summer school so she would be ready when they arrived at 2:30pm. He always runs a late so I didn't worry about it when he was not here by 3pm even though Squeaker was opening the front door repeatedly so she wouldn't miss them.
By 3:48pm I went out to check on the status of things and Squeaker was a squashy, weeping mess. I told her to go ahead and give him a call to find out what was up. When she got off the phone she said tearfully, "They're not coming." Sister's dad has some physical ailments and is often in pain, as he was today so he couldn't make the long drive.
I feel bad for the guy....but for goodness sake's, fella! You couldn't pick up the phone and let her know you weren't coming before she spent an hour and half with her eyeball glued to the peephole waiting for you? This is his second no-show for a visit. It makes my blood boil that he would be so inconsistent and inconsiderate to my poor kid who has had rejection and disappointment enough.
I reminded Squeaker about our previous talks about not putting too many expectations on her birth family. I could only let her know as matter-of-factly as possible that I knew she was disappointed and I was sorry that the outing was called off, knowing that if I gave it too much attention she would blow it up into a huge drama bringing up every hurt ever done to her.
Still, I'd like to smack that guy upside the head.
She ran half of the way home from summer school so she would be ready when they arrived at 2:30pm. He always runs a late so I didn't worry about it when he was not here by 3pm even though Squeaker was opening the front door repeatedly so she wouldn't miss them.
By 3:48pm I went out to check on the status of things and Squeaker was a squashy, weeping mess. I told her to go ahead and give him a call to find out what was up. When she got off the phone she said tearfully, "They're not coming." Sister's dad has some physical ailments and is often in pain, as he was today so he couldn't make the long drive.
I feel bad for the guy....but for goodness sake's, fella! You couldn't pick up the phone and let her know you weren't coming before she spent an hour and half with her eyeball glued to the peephole waiting for you? This is his second no-show for a visit. It makes my blood boil that he would be so inconsistent and inconsiderate to my poor kid who has had rejection and disappointment enough.
I reminded Squeaker about our previous talks about not putting too many expectations on her birth family. I could only let her know as matter-of-factly as possible that I knew she was disappointed and I was sorry that the outing was called off, knowing that if I gave it too much attention she would blow it up into a huge drama bringing up every hurt ever done to her.
Still, I'd like to smack that guy upside the head.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Father's Day
Father's Day can be a difficult day for our kids...another painful reminder of what they missed out on, what should have been.
We took our bunch to church this morning and, as the pastor started his message entitled "God is Our Father", I glanced down the row. Not one of the six kids at church with us has grown up with their father. Most of the children we have cared for through the years have not had fathers.
Lucky cried through most of the church service and out into the parking lot. There's not much I can do for her except hold her and tell her I know how hard it is for her. I tell her that God is her Father and He will never abandon her. For some pain, there is no earthly comfort. Her wounds are deep and her feelings of rejection and abandonment define how she sees herself and how she views the world.
Recently, she participated in an author's fair at school. Her story was about a princess (whose name is a shortened version of her own name) and a guy (whose name is the same as her "crush" at school) at a ball. The first part of the story was a blatant rip-off of Cinderella and Snow White but the ending was original:
"Then something happened to her after that night. She appeared in a garden near the castle. She tried but she could not go back to the castle because her evil dad would not let her in. He was saying, "You are not my daughter. You are a fake." So she went back to (the guy). She asked if she could live with him and he said, "Yes." (The guy) and (the princess) lived happily ever after."
Daughters need their dads or they may end up like this princess, running to another man to provide what they are desperately needing. I can't change the beginning of Lucky's life. Her father abandoned her. That is part of her story. But the ending can be rewritten because God has promised to be a Father to the fatherless. He will not sit on His throne and turn her away. Instead, when she turns to Him, He will be filled with compassion and, like the father of the prodigal son, will run to her, throw His arms around her and kiss her.
And they will live happily ever after.
We took our bunch to church this morning and, as the pastor started his message entitled "God is Our Father", I glanced down the row. Not one of the six kids at church with us has grown up with their father. Most of the children we have cared for through the years have not had fathers.
Lucky cried through most of the church service and out into the parking lot. There's not much I can do for her except hold her and tell her I know how hard it is for her. I tell her that God is her Father and He will never abandon her. For some pain, there is no earthly comfort. Her wounds are deep and her feelings of rejection and abandonment define how she sees herself and how she views the world.
Recently, she participated in an author's fair at school. Her story was about a princess (whose name is a shortened version of her own name) and a guy (whose name is the same as her "crush" at school) at a ball. The first part of the story was a blatant rip-off of Cinderella and Snow White but the ending was original:
"Then something happened to her after that night. She appeared in a garden near the castle. She tried but she could not go back to the castle because her evil dad would not let her in. He was saying, "You are not my daughter. You are a fake." So she went back to (the guy). She asked if she could live with him and he said, "Yes." (The guy) and (the princess) lived happily ever after."
Daughters need their dads or they may end up like this princess, running to another man to provide what they are desperately needing. I can't change the beginning of Lucky's life. Her father abandoned her. That is part of her story. But the ending can be rewritten because God has promised to be a Father to the fatherless. He will not sit on His throne and turn her away. Instead, when she turns to Him, He will be filled with compassion and, like the father of the prodigal son, will run to her, throw His arms around her and kiss her.
And they will live happily ever after.
Our Little World
Squeaker had a rough start to the weekend on Friday night. Lucky had a little end of the year party with a few friends then we took the middles and The Boss to get a pizza to take to the park. Squeaker got into a minor spat with The Boss and then would not let it go, back-talking and noncompliant all evening and into Saturday morning. I took her for a walk on Saturday to talk about how she is choosing to heap consequences upon herself by letting small incidents turn into full-blown temper tantrums. She is in the third week of minimal privileges which started out by her being annoyed that I called her in to do chores and ended with name-calling, door slamming, destruction of property, and violent throwing of heavy objects. The walk and talk seemed to help with conduct and demeanor improving for the rest of the day.
Her stepdad and birth sister stopped by in the afternoon and I allowed her to be outside and play for a while. Her sister will come back today to go to church with us and spend the day. She and her dad are moving out of state in the beginning of July so I expect high emotions when we say our good-byes tonight.
The bigger kids have been making themselves scarce and hardly talking to us when they are here so it's been a relatively quiet weekend apart from The Boss lamenting that he has nobody to play with any more.
Her stepdad and birth sister stopped by in the afternoon and I allowed her to be outside and play for a while. Her sister will come back today to go to church with us and spend the day. She and her dad are moving out of state in the beginning of July so I expect high emotions when we say our good-byes tonight.
The bigger kids have been making themselves scarce and hardly talking to us when they are here so it's been a relatively quiet weekend apart from The Boss lamenting that he has nobody to play with any more.
Friday, June 19, 2009
What's On Your Mind?
I'm "on" Faceb**k but I rarely check in. The main reason is that reconnecting with old friends and family and reading updates makes me realize that I don't lead a very "normal" life. Sometimes I feel quite envious. Also, I don't get the whole Twitt&r thing. The minutiae of my life doesn't even interest me all that much. I can't imagine why anybody else would read it.
Of course, this blog was created primarily as a survival tool, aptly named since it's here that we unload the stress of the daily snarks of life with older kids who come with loads of "history". Often, negative? Well, yes because this is where we dump the negativity around us with some snark of our own which we attempt to withhold from the actual real life encounter.
For example: Squeaker talked back tonight in a totally rude, disrespectful tone. I told her, "You may not speak to me like that." She replied, "Why not?....the Bible says we're all created equal." Actually, dear, that's the Declaration of Independence. BUT SEE? I didn't actually say that last part out loud. I sucked it back and saved it for here.
Okay, if that is my greatest accomplishment today it's not much to brag (or "tweet") about, I realize.
And all that rambling was just to say...I learned on FB that an old friend of ours just started a great family website called Twigable which focuses on things that are positive and praiseworthy. It's geared for "normal" folks so if you are one or used to be or hope to be, for goodness sakes click away from this cesspool of negativity check out her site here.
Of course, this blog was created primarily as a survival tool, aptly named since it's here that we unload the stress of the daily snarks of life with older kids who come with loads of "history". Often, negative? Well, yes because this is where we dump the negativity around us with some snark of our own which we attempt to withhold from the actual real life encounter.
For example: Squeaker talked back tonight in a totally rude, disrespectful tone. I told her, "You may not speak to me like that." She replied, "Why not?....the Bible says we're all created equal." Actually, dear, that's the Declaration of Independence. BUT SEE? I didn't actually say that last part out loud. I sucked it back and saved it for here.
Okay, if that is my greatest accomplishment today it's not much to brag (or "tweet") about, I realize.
And all that rambling was just to say...I learned on FB that an old friend of ours just started a great family website called Twigable which focuses on things that are positive and praiseworthy. It's geared for "normal" folks so if you are one or used to be or hope to be, for goodness sakes click away from this cesspool of negativity check out her site here.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
The Little Black Dress
Last summer, Lucky's grandma bought her a little black dress. Grandma asked Monica if she thought the dress would be appropriate for church. Hmmm...well, not our church. Maybe for a cocktail party but not for a (then) 11-year-old to wear to church.
Lucky brought the dress home. She wore it for Halloween with a pair of black wings. She asked to wear it to school. No. She asked to wear it to a party. No.
No. No. No. No.
It's not appropriate for school. In fact, I can't think of a single place where that dress would be appropriate for a twelve-year-old. Those were my exact words last week when she asked if she could wear it to school not once but TWICE.
Yesterday, she called her friend to RSVP to her 10th birthday party. She spoke to the girl's mom and, after hanging up, said, "Her mom told me I'm supposed to wear a black dress." (Ri-ght.) "Hey, I have a black dress."
Um, no. Again.
Lucky brought the dress home. She wore it for Halloween with a pair of black wings. She asked to wear it to school. No. She asked to wear it to a party. No.
No. No. No. No.
It's not appropriate for school. In fact, I can't think of a single place where that dress would be appropriate for a twelve-year-old. Those were my exact words last week when she asked if she could wear it to school not once but TWICE.
Yesterday, she called her friend to RSVP to her 10th birthday party. She spoke to the girl's mom and, after hanging up, said, "Her mom told me I'm supposed to wear a black dress." (Ri-ght.) "Hey, I have a black dress."
Um, no. Again.
You've Gotta Be Kidding
Squeaker left the house this morning to walk to summer school before I got downstairs to give her meds. I had to jump in the car and intercept her. She was wearing a shirt that was not hers and decidedly not dress code or allowed by me either. She had to come back to change clothes and, of course, take meds. I have to watch her swallow them since I found she had stashed some in a dresser drawer instead of taking them.
She tried to argue every which way that the spaghetti strap shirt was allowed (No...even if it wasn't several sizes too small) and that she did wait for someone to give her meds. She is not allowed to leave the house without permission, without taking meds, or without checking in with me or Ana to make sure she is appropriately attired. I told her that she knew her actions were wrong and to stop trying to justify it. Her response, "Like I AM?"
She needs a dictionary or I need to stop using big words, I guess.
She tried to argue every which way that the spaghetti strap shirt was allowed (No...even if it wasn't several sizes too small) and that she did wait for someone to give her meds. She is not allowed to leave the house without permission, without taking meds, or without checking in with me or Ana to make sure she is appropriately attired. I told her that she knew her actions were wrong and to stop trying to justify it. Her response, "Like I AM?"
She needs a dictionary or I need to stop using big words, I guess.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Gasping
This week has been difficult. The ragged hole left by the unexpected departure of a child that we love from our home without even so much as a good-bye is crushingly painful. The Boss kept saying, "Can you please not cry anymore?" but I can't help it, overwhelmed by the grief of loss and the cruel circumstances under which it occured. Yet another reminder that we have given years of our lives to love and care for other people's children without any rights or regard given to preserving the relationship and bonds we have created minute by minute, day after day as we nurtured, hugged, played, comforted, disciplined, taught, and loved. We're left holding the short end of the stick again after being smacked in the face with cold indifference and staggering ingratitude.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Painful Partings -- Past and Present
I came across this letter that I wrote in pre-blog days and thought it would be a good time to post it as I am now in the midst of fresh grief with the loss of another child.
Although we will continue to see him, the loss of daily interaction with him has left a painful void. The circumstances of his departure, without the chance to hug him and say good-bye, have added to our grief. The fact that there is no acknowledgement or even recognition of our attachment to him or his attachment to us has made this hurtful as well as painful. Instead, our love and care and commitment to him have been deemed not good enough.
Whatever the reasons and however hard it is for us, I cannot argue that this move is the best thing for him. So, to our little guy: I love you and I will miss seeing you and hugging you every day but I want you to know that you are our family and that is forever.
And to my baby girl:
Dear Diana,
I wish that you would always know that I love you more than life. You are so precious to me...I wish I could tell you that every day. I hope you know that I did not reject or abandon you although I'm sure that's what it felt like when the only mommy you knew put you in a stranger's arms and walked away forever.
I wish you could know how much that hurt me...that I wanted to hug you and hold you and never let you go. A part of my heart went with you that day and I will never be the same again.
I wonder if you are happy. Do you smile and laugh and talk? Does your new mommy know that noses beep and that palms are for kissing? Does she know how to make bubbles dance? Does she wonder why "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" makes you cry or why cows say "meow"?
My heart holds a part of your life that you will not remember and I will never forget. When I am feeling sad and lonely for you, I cry when I remember that, for a short time, I was your whole world and now your world doesn't have even a memory of me. But they are selfish tears, I suppose, because you were never mine to keep and hold.
Maybe you are back with your birth mommy, maybe you are with a new forever family or maybe you are still with a foster family. That is something I will always wonder but never know. I can only trust you to God's care and keeping and pray that you are safe and that you are loved.
It was my honor and joy to be your mama for just a little while. To see your first steps. To hear your first words and your beautiful laugh. If you don't remember me, I hope, deep down inside, that you will remember that you were loved, cherished and protected in my arms and that your Father in heaven loves you and will never abandon you.
Although we will continue to see him, the loss of daily interaction with him has left a painful void. The circumstances of his departure, without the chance to hug him and say good-bye, have added to our grief. The fact that there is no acknowledgement or even recognition of our attachment to him or his attachment to us has made this hurtful as well as painful. Instead, our love and care and commitment to him have been deemed not good enough.
Whatever the reasons and however hard it is for us, I cannot argue that this move is the best thing for him. So, to our little guy: I love you and I will miss seeing you and hugging you every day but I want you to know that you are our family and that is forever.
And to my baby girl:
Dear Diana,
I wish that you would always know that I love you more than life. You are so precious to me...I wish I could tell you that every day. I hope you know that I did not reject or abandon you although I'm sure that's what it felt like when the only mommy you knew put you in a stranger's arms and walked away forever.
I wish you could know how much that hurt me...that I wanted to hug you and hold you and never let you go. A part of my heart went with you that day and I will never be the same again.
I wonder if you are happy. Do you smile and laugh and talk? Does your new mommy know that noses beep and that palms are for kissing? Does she know how to make bubbles dance? Does she wonder why "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" makes you cry or why cows say "meow"?
My heart holds a part of your life that you will not remember and I will never forget. When I am feeling sad and lonely for you, I cry when I remember that, for a short time, I was your whole world and now your world doesn't have even a memory of me. But they are selfish tears, I suppose, because you were never mine to keep and hold.
Maybe you are back with your birth mommy, maybe you are with a new forever family or maybe you are still with a foster family. That is something I will always wonder but never know. I can only trust you to God's care and keeping and pray that you are safe and that you are loved.
It was my honor and joy to be your mama for just a little while. To see your first steps. To hear your first words and your beautiful laugh. If you don't remember me, I hope, deep down inside, that you will remember that you were loved, cherished and protected in my arms and that your Father in heaven loves you and will never abandon you.
Summer
It's not really feeling like summer around here. It's been unusually cold which we have been enjoying especially since only five plants from my garden succombed to the heat before things cooled down. That's not all that impressive though since I hardly planted anything this year. We are daring the weather with another planting hoping the late starters will have a chance to establish before our usual hot desert summer realizes that it overslept.
High school, middle school, and elementary school graduations under our collective belt, we'll spend a busy few months helping the kids prepare for the next phase of their lives.
Squeaker starts summer school tomorrow. She has been handling the last few weeks of minimum privileges beautifully. What're a few snorts and eyerolls among friends? I'm very happy with how she has been able to pull it together and comply with the restrictions she so clearly earned. Fewer choices and freedoms actually do make it easier for her to maintain control of both her anger and her giddiness so I'm hoping when we let out the tether a bit next week she will continue to be pleasant and cooperative.
The older teens are all on job hunts (or should be). Not only do they need their own spending money but they need to get out of the house doing something productive so I'm happy to drive them wherever they need to go in the quest for employment.
The task remains to find somewhere for Lucky to get out and have something to do. Our "new" town does not have the resources that we were used to before our move so it can be a challenge to find suitably enjoyable and appropriately supervised activities.
I pulled The Boss' second wiggly tooth so today we are off to the store to buy the Stargate action figure he has been saving for. Yes, I know I am raising him to be a sci-fi geek like his mommy, what's your point?
No lazy days of summer around here. Everybody get out and get busy!
High school, middle school, and elementary school graduations under our collective belt, we'll spend a busy few months helping the kids prepare for the next phase of their lives.
Squeaker starts summer school tomorrow. She has been handling the last few weeks of minimum privileges beautifully. What're a few snorts and eyerolls among friends? I'm very happy with how she has been able to pull it together and comply with the restrictions she so clearly earned. Fewer choices and freedoms actually do make it easier for her to maintain control of both her anger and her giddiness so I'm hoping when we let out the tether a bit next week she will continue to be pleasant and cooperative.
The older teens are all on job hunts (or should be). Not only do they need their own spending money but they need to get out of the house doing something productive so I'm happy to drive them wherever they need to go in the quest for employment.
The task remains to find somewhere for Lucky to get out and have something to do. Our "new" town does not have the resources that we were used to before our move so it can be a challenge to find suitably enjoyable and appropriately supervised activities.
I pulled The Boss' second wiggly tooth so today we are off to the store to buy the Stargate action figure he has been saving for. Yes, I know I am raising him to be a sci-fi geek like his mommy, what's your point?
No lazy days of summer around here. Everybody get out and get busy!
Monday, June 15, 2009
BTDT Too
Lots of stressful, sad stuff going on that I cannot blog about but in the midst also some answers to prayer.
Veteran adoption blogger Cindy has experienced the same on more than one occasion and through her stories, I am at least not shocked or unprepared to be facing it too. A snatch from her always-enlightening blog today:
"...not only is there rarely gratitude, you'll be lied about by the very ones you've chosen to help. She called it character assassination and she's right on the money. BTDT. It certainly sucks and makes one question why so many deeply painful sacrifices end up being so sadly unrewarding. Usually it's just a big ole OUCH. And life goes on. And on."
I have faith that down the road we will see the reward. Until then....OUCH.
Veteran adoption blogger Cindy has experienced the same on more than one occasion and through her stories, I am at least not shocked or unprepared to be facing it too. A snatch from her always-enlightening blog today:
"...not only is there rarely gratitude, you'll be lied about by the very ones you've chosen to help. She called it character assassination and she's right on the money. BTDT. It certainly sucks and makes one question why so many deeply painful sacrifices end up being so sadly unrewarding. Usually it's just a big ole OUCH. And life goes on. And on."
I have faith that down the road we will see the reward. Until then....OUCH.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
First Lost Tooth
The Boss lost his first baby tooth today just in time to show Grandma and Grandpa....not the tooth which will be much to Grandma's relief, just the empty socket. The Tooth Fairy comes tonight. The Boss was not thrilled with the idea of the Tooth Fairy rooting around under his pillow while he was sleeping (she wasn't too thrilled either) so we decided to tape it to the door with a big sign so she'll be sure to find it. The Boss worded the sign himself. It reads, "Right There!" with a big arrow down.
Incidentally, we tell him that the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus are pretend just for fun characters, but he insists they are real and keeps trying to convince me. I think the characters from Lord of the Rings are real so who am I to say?
I've been pestering him to work that tooth out because his big snaggly adult tooth already decided to appear right behind it. Same for his other bottom tooth but it's pretty close too. Perfect timing since he has almost enough money for the toys he's been saving up for.
Incidentally, we tell him that the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus are pretend just for fun characters, but he insists they are real and keeps trying to convince me. I think the characters from Lord of the Rings are real so who am I to say?
I've been pestering him to work that tooth out because his big snaggly adult tooth already decided to appear right behind it. Same for his other bottom tooth but it's pretty close too. Perfect timing since he has almost enough money for the toys he's been saving up for.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
History Repeats
Last night Squeaker came down to dinner chipper and chatty. I was still not feeling too friendly but I nodded and said "Mmmmhmmmm" a lot and we got through the meal. She told a story again about how she broke her arm on the playground while living in a group home. When her birth mother showed up for a visit she became incensed and screamed at the staff, upsetting Squeaker and was asked to leave. I remember this story from reading her case file and the staff noted that it was very traumatic for her.
Today has been a calmer much more cooperative day. When she realized the full magnitude of the consequences she had earned, I expected more outbursts but she handled it okay. I mentioned to her that when she had told the story about her mom it reminded me of her tantrum earlier that day saying, "That's what it looks like when an adult loses self-control." Sadly, that was a very typical response for her birth mom to resort to screaming, belittling, and abuse.
That is why we are working so hard on this, constantly pounding the concepts of self-control and responsibility, while she is still a kid. Losing even weeks' worth of privileges now is minor compared to what she will lose when she is an adult if she cannot learn to control her anger and take responsibility for her actions.
I asked her if she knew what her mom had lost as a result of letting her rage control her. The answer was obvious to us both: she eventually lost all of her children, her family, her job. That is not what I want for Squeaker and not what she wants for herself.
I know that the rest of her "house arrest" will not be so calm and introspective, but I can only hope she will learn enough from her history to take measures to give herself a better future.
Today has been a calmer much more cooperative day. When she realized the full magnitude of the consequences she had earned, I expected more outbursts but she handled it okay. I mentioned to her that when she had told the story about her mom it reminded me of her tantrum earlier that day saying, "That's what it looks like when an adult loses self-control." Sadly, that was a very typical response for her birth mom to resort to screaming, belittling, and abuse.
That is why we are working so hard on this, constantly pounding the concepts of self-control and responsibility, while she is still a kid. Losing even weeks' worth of privileges now is minor compared to what she will lose when she is an adult if she cannot learn to control her anger and take responsibility for her actions.
I asked her if she knew what her mom had lost as a result of letting her rage control her. The answer was obvious to us both: she eventually lost all of her children, her family, her job. That is not what I want for Squeaker and not what she wants for herself.
I know that the rest of her "house arrest" will not be so calm and introspective, but I can only hope she will learn enough from her history to take measures to give herself a better future.
Monday, June 1, 2009
"I Can't Believe it's Not Better"
In a world where improvement is often counted in minutes and a hectic day or a minor expectation can set of a maelstrom of violent reaction, better has turned to worse in a matter of an afternoon.
Leaving the older kids downstairs while Ana was out and I was laid up with painkillers and ice on account of a bursitis-y elbow (which I do not recommend....yowzer) was the impetus for Squeaker to careen out of control into smart-mouthy non-compliance.
I brought her in to do her chores and she flew off the handle because Ana had already vacuumed her room and she couldn't use the new vacuum (yes, it is that cool). Unfortunately for her she also called me a nasty name on her way up the stairs earning her a "benching" tomorrow and thus no youth group.
Door slamming, throwing heavy ojects, profanity, name-calling, kicking, ensued resulting in three holes in the walls and two in the closet door as she built up to more than three weeks worth of lost privileges (one day for every profanity, one day for every minute out of the room, and two days for each damage to property).
She also kicked me when I encouraged her to sit with a firm hand on her shoulder. Not sure what we'll do about that yet except call the cops if she attacks anybody else.
Possibly time to rethink meds.
Leaving the older kids downstairs while Ana was out and I was laid up with painkillers and ice on account of a bursitis-y elbow (which I do not recommend....yowzer) was the impetus for Squeaker to careen out of control into smart-mouthy non-compliance.
I brought her in to do her chores and she flew off the handle because Ana had already vacuumed her room and she couldn't use the new vacuum (yes, it is that cool). Unfortunately for her she also called me a nasty name on her way up the stairs earning her a "benching" tomorrow and thus no youth group.
Door slamming, throwing heavy ojects, profanity, name-calling, kicking, ensued resulting in three holes in the walls and two in the closet door as she built up to more than three weeks worth of lost privileges (one day for every profanity, one day for every minute out of the room, and two days for each damage to property).
She also kicked me when I encouraged her to sit with a firm hand on her shoulder. Not sure what we'll do about that yet except call the cops if she attacks anybody else.
Possibly time to rethink meds.
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