Time to Say Goodbye

As Andrea Bocelli sings his heart out my two boys react very differently. One is crying, the other one is looking forward to it. I am sitting in the middle of their bedroom surrounded by piles and boxes and we try to negotiate our way through the problem.

The matter at hand: removing outgrown and unused clothes from their respective wardrobes.

Why would this be such a big issue, you ask.
Why did it take the whole day of Saturday to go through a small number of torn trousers, holey socks, permanently marked jumpers, all too small onesie pyjamas and stretched t-shirts?

How do you relate to your clothes? What memories have you attached to specific clothes? How do you pick which is your favourite item? Most of my clothes are just what they are; clothes that cover my body and keep me warm. I have a few that I bought because I liked the colours or because they looked good on me. Some are non negotiable and follow the work dress code, some I got for specific occasions like a wedding so naturally when I look at it I remember all the fun I had at that specific party.

But when it comes to our children, each clothing item carries extra added attributes. At this age the boys are not too bothered about how the items look on them. They often don't remember why they got them at the first place (unless it was a Reward for something) or where they wore them first. What they remember is WHO gave it to them.

Sitting among piles of clothes both boys were able to piece together a pretty accurate timeline of their short lives purely based on who gave them which t-shirt and from that they were able to estimate the dates. We did have a few clothes from birth mum (BM). I never, for a second, suggested we get rid of them, but still it was extremely difficult to convince the boys to put those items into their Memory Box instead of their wardrobe.

We did find a few t-shirts that were given to them by Andy / Adam / Alan / Andrew*. Who are they, I asked. 'Well, other children we stayed with in the various foster placements.'  I understand all the emotions and memories they have attached to those clothes: for them they are not just clothes; they are part of their life story; some of the few tangible memories they have left from their tragic past! How can I ask them to just throw those away? Most of them are too small already and all of them had marks on them. I have bought tons of nice, new clothes for the boys that fit them. Still, they really struggled to part with the old ones... As a compromise I suggested they each pick the 2 most precious ones (whatever makes it precious for them) and we put those back in the bottom of their shelves. The rest will 'go to charity'.

When it came to the way too tiny trousers Goofs (6) showed a little more understanding and reluctantly agreed to give them away to children who need it more. Some of Snoops' (7) old trousers fit his brother now. I got to the typical parental dilemma: is it good parenting to give older brother's outgrown clothes to the younger brother and buy new clothes for the older one only (thus save money too) or treat them equally and buy new clothes to the little one, too? Just another thing to consider when you have same gender children...

Thank God it was easier to get rid of broken socks and very old underwear. I was not in the mood to negotiate on this matter so as a preemptive strike I had bought them lots of new and cool stuff. It worked! :)

There were confusion about some hoodies that I know I have bought for them. Yet, Goofs argued that his last Foster Carer has purchased them. It was no point arguing about it. Instead, I asked why did he think she had bought it? 'Because she loved me!' What can I say to that? He is projecting feelings into clothes! 'Oh course she does! You know what, you are probably right, silly mummy got it confused...'

At the end we managed to put only a small amount of clothes into the 'give away' pile, much fewer than I hoped for. For me, it was only a practical exercise to reduce the mess in their wardrobes. For the boys, it was a highly emotional experience that stirred up lots of memories. This was their first 'culling' and I promised them we will do this only once every year. I hope and pray, in time they will be able to see it as a painless, practical exercise and nothing more...

*names obviously changed

Who is the Enemy?

Before I crack on with this week's post I feel I need to clarify a few things:

1: Don't like, don't read! Simple!
2: Don't understand? Ask, before you report me for 'bad parenting'.
3: The 'target audience' is primarily fellow adopters who can appreciate the weight of 'being the mother of THAT child', who can celebrate with me when I say 'his tantrum only lasted 30 minutes' and most importantly those WHO HAVE WALKED A MILE IN MY SHOES! If you haven't, please refer to the second point before you say/do something we will both regret... Or sod off...

That being said let me tell you what promoted this post. We have been recently reported to Social Services by 'a concerned citizen' who knew squat about our life as a family of four. After a few agonizing and sleepless nights it's now closed (with no further action mind you) and we can move on with our life; the children are blissfully unaware of this ordeal. A fellow adopter told me 'welcome to your new reality'. Just like a doctor always dreads somebody someday will sue them, now we have to worry about this as well. This is such a real and depressing thought that I needed to write this out of me before I go crazy...

So, who is your enemy today? Take your pick...

1. Is it your adopted child/ren?

Our life as a couple has been really great. We had time and money for everything. We could spontaneously go to the cinema, do shopping at 11pm, go on mini holidays, achieve in our respective fields, have a social life, discuss problems in a civilised and calm manner...etc. This all went out the window the moment they moved in. I am a stay home mum for the time being; locked up in my house-prison; the topics reduced to poo, farthing or Peppa Pig; only have adult conversations with the teacher/Social Worker/Play Therapist/GP ABOUT the children; I step on bloody Lego everywhere in the house; #InsertYourProblemHere ...etc.

I wonder if you can read the next, very honest lines without judgement? The naked truth is, this chain of thoughts is not uncommon among adopters:
We decided to adopt children to help them change their stories so we opened up our hearts, our home, we put our life on the back burner and all we got in return for our goodness is pain and destruction. Our frustration is originated with the children and it is also aimed right back at them. And suddenly you realise you are not that good at all! So your anger turns towards yourself. How awful I am for blaming this poor child for ruining my happy life? What a rotten attitude is that? Oh, hello self conflict, just who I needed in my life right now. I hate what I have become, I hate what this child turned me into! This child has ruined my life! It's easy to see how they can become the enemy...

2. Is it your spouse?

'For crying out loud, why on Earth did you have to say/do that to our son?'
'Just because YOUR dad/mum used to do that to YOU, it doesn't make it right or an example I want YOU to follow when you parent MY child!'
'No, it's your turn, I woke up the first 3 times when he cried'
'I am so exhausted, I have no energy to talk to you unless it's related to the boys.'
'How can you not keep your cool? Do you think it's therapeutic parenting what you have just done?'
'It's easy for you, you go to work, I had to give up my career,  I have to take them to school, do house work, pick them up from school, make food, do all the therapeutic parenting, suffer through the tantrums, do the home works...' and it's twin sister: 'It's easy for you, you are home all day, I have to go to work, worry about money and then come home to more shouting, I have no energy to play with them...' It's easy to see how (s)he can become the enemy...

3. Is it me, myself and I?
Being a perfectionist helped me all my life to achieve my goals from swimming to masters degrees and a career. We can all agree, any type of parenting is hard, but because our boys had such a difficult past I struggle with the idea of 'good enough' parenting. I know it's self destructing in the long run and 'you can't pour from a dry cup', but I find zero consolidation in comments like 'if your children are fed and alive, it's a good day'. I know in my head it's a marathon, but my legs can't slow down from the sprint, so from time to time I stumble and fall. But even then there is no time for self care or me-time, because... there is always a reason. It's easy to see how I can become the enemy...

4. Is it other perfect parents?
'Oh, that's normal, my child does that, too. Why don't you just...' Soooo not helpful. I am sure we all hear the comments and helpful suggestions from others, well meaning birth parents who might know a thing or two about parenting their own specific children, but have no clue about the complexity and extra added challenges that we have to face on a minute by minute basis. I am tired of explaining why Reward Charts don't work or that my child's violence is not because 'boys are boisterous', but because he is used to see it at home as an effective way of dealing with problems and end arguments. Or the ones who complain we are too strict in our parenting style and they don't have a clue we are actually protecting their sorry asses from a potential allegation our child is likely to make against them... The other end of the spectrum is when they question your sincerity or severity of the incident simply because 'he is always lovely when he is with me. Are you sure it's not just you misreading the situation?' It's easy to see how they can become the enemy...

5. Is it the PIE?
From Sarah 'therapeutic parenting guru' Naish's book they are the Patronising Ignorant Experts (teachers, social workers, therapists) who have 'seen it all' so they must know it all, too. In one sentence they tell you 'you are the expert when it comes to your child' and in the very next one they tell you off saying 'trust me, you are wrong, I am the expert'. A teacher who only sees my child is constantly disrupting the class because every time the door opens he must turn to see who is it (but failed to position my son's desk to face the door as I had requested to lessen his anxiety levels). Or a TA who doesn't get that even though he looks 7 he can revert back to a 3y old in a second and unless they use toddler distraction tactics he will not 'just snap out of it' and therefore TA concludes he must be challenging TA's authority only to annoy them. Obviously.

6. My new reality: the concerned citizen
Perhaps the scariest of all. You don't know who might have a personal grudge against you. You don't know which friend you honestly confided in about your struggles will get anxious enough to turn against you strictly 'out of concern'. Or perhaps a neighbour, who had enough of the shouting and crying that goes on in your house at 4 am and (s)he incorrectly assumes the child cries because you are beating them. Or a mother of the boys' classmate who has no idea you are not the same mother who had abused the boy in the past when he casually mentions during a play date 'my mum hit me with a...' because we didn't tell everyone the boys are adopted.

Perhaps the next post should be about Who is a Friend and how to recongise them?

Forever rooted in uncertainty

It's a rather depressive post, proceed at your own risk!

7 months into placement I came to realise a few things - in all honesty, my conscious mind knew and expected all along, I even fooled myself and others that I was properly prepared for it. Not happy to accept it all 'sold as is', but was willing to work with it, while deep down hoping beyond hope that our new story together as a family of four will be different than other adopters' nightmares. What was fuelling that feeling in me?

1.) Our Christian faith (here you can insert whatever you want from cheesy Bible verses taken out of context through a loving and understanding church and christian community to the idea of you doing something good and self sacrificial, which God will surely bless and somehow make it work)
2.) The fact that we did NOT want to do it for our own need of 'wanting to be parents' but to help children to get out of the system and find a forever home
3.) Without a doubt our own beliefs that we are very capable people, confident in our relationship, confident in our skills and gifts (and the level of patience)
4.) It seemed we had a good support network around us
5.) Good working relationships with LAs, SWs and other professionals

+ the bonus one: We thought we knew where/what our buttons were!

Surely there are many more reasons, but these were the biggest ones.

We attended a 10 weeks long very intensive training on Attachment, Behaviour and Trauma with the PACE model and other very interesting, eye opening and extremely useful topics so we had a fairly good idea of what we are getting ourselves into. Of course they try to prepare you for the worst and after talking to fellow adopters and hearing their never ending nightmares of adoption I can even say our 2 boys are by far not even the worst! They are happy to attend and perform well in school; we can take them shoe shopping; they manage well in crowds (asda or xmas market), once the tantrums and meltdowns are over both boys are capable of coming back to apologise, although sometimes it takes days to calm down; we have been receiving play therapy and filial therapy for many months now and they do make a difference; everybody can see the improvements in both boys...etc. So, you would think it's going well.

I suppose it's a matter of perspective, but it is very hard to change your perspective. Especially if you feel like your own life is slowly fading away in front of your very eyes!

For the last 2 weeks it feels like the boys with their never ending needs, constant button pushing, several unreasonable meltdowns* EVERY SINGLE DAY, with no time for self-care, with no time or space for quality time with husband also with constant lack of sleep they just suck the life out of me like the Dementors** and what's worse, they even suck the will to fight out of me! I have been sick for the last 5 weeks now with flu and I truly believe this is just my body saying you can't go on like this any more! I have zero willpower in me left to even try to be therapeutic / understanding / patient... you get the picture. All my energy and emotions were channelled into supporting their needs 25/7 and all my tanks are dry now. Just before Christmas, when I will need it the most! :(

Goofs (6) has always been real with us! He really struggled with the new placement and adjustments, he was in full on CPV mode attacking us on a daily basis, running away, screaming 'you are not my real mother' or 'I hate you, I want to leave this house'... the usual stuff. It was bloody hard work, but because we knew this we somehow managed to navigate those very hard and challenging months through with him. Today he is much more lovable and he is turning into a sweet little boy. Don't get me wrong, he still has meltdowns, but I think he was able to form attachments to us and it helps him to bounce back much faster after a wobbly moment. He is building up resilience that will help him stand firm when a meltdown is brewing.

Snoops (7) is much more complex. We still feel that we do not know him at all! Just before he came to us a clinical psychologist had the first accurate assessment on him that said his difficulties come from attachment disorder instead of autism. But now, as we see him every day I think I concur with school who says he is definitely on the autistic spectrum, the question is only where exactly. At the moment I am leaning towards 80-20. It is very strange; from his recent behaviour it seems he is 7 months late and he is only catching up now in terms of starting to push boundaries. What's even more unusual is that he is emotionally well versed (thanks to the therapy he received when he was younger) and is able to say things like 'I am only pushing you now and testing you with my behaviour'. The other day after he screamed at my face that I am not his real mother I said very calmly 'well, tell me news, not history' he had the presence to say 'Why are you not upset now? You should be angry now and cry and say hurtful things back at me'. A fair assessment of him would be to say he might present as a securely attached child, however, even the lightest feather can push him back to the deepest pit and even the most patient saint would not be able to put up with that shit he pushes me through and remain sane, let alone muster up enough will to continue to therapeutically approach him.

I spoke to quite a few older and adult adoptees and while I can't say it was a representative research one common theme emerged: no matter how securely attached they were, how much therapy and support they received over the years whenever they faced a problem their initial response was always to regress back to the old hurts, old feelings of 'nobody likes me / no good things will ever happen to me /  everybody is out to hurt me / you can't trust anybody'...etc. I know we are still in the early stages of this placement, but it greatly distresses me that no matter how much we do for them, it seems very likely they will never be free from this! We can work our socks off, sacrifice e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g (your life, friendships, marriage, health, future, money) and still, it will never be enough. Very depressing thought, I know...

So to reflect on the points above:

1.) yeah, right, in your dreams perhaps... :(
2.) it surely helps, but everybody breaks at one point. Mine just took a little longer...
3.) you don't know how rubbish you are until you faced with this. And then there is only down from there...
4.) ummm, hello, is anybody out there? Can anybody hear me or just see the smiling children and think 'she is just complaining too much and too negative' but in reality they don't bother to ask me a direct question or run away before I start to answer
5.) oddly this is the only one that's actually remained the same and continues to go well with most parties involved.

+ 1.) FFS, I didn't use to swear! I never had the inclination to hurt anybody (verbally or physically) until now. Husband was the epitome of patience and I used to like him...

Happy Advent, Everybody!



*yes, yes, yes, we know it is not unreasonable, that it makes perfect sense in their heads, that it is triggered by something that happened in the past

** for explanation click here