From Friday:
Oh the joy of trauma parenting is alive and well here today!
Today alone I have experienced many things, and being that "R" is out of school at 11:00 every other day insured it was a long lasting joy.
Some of these special joys were:
1. Being called a variety of names in a loud voice because I wouldn't go buy him a car, right NOW. HE gets SO obsessed when he wants something, large or small! He is also leaving because he hates it here, and everything about my husband and I. Son #2 bought a car today, having saved half and borrowed for the rest. Old car, small amount... but since "R" wants on,e he wants one NOW!
2. I was treated to the joy of threat of bodily harm when I refused to take him into the bank to get a loan for said car. After all, he starts work tomorrow, and getting a loan is easy and only takes 10 minutes!
3. A variety of small objects were thrown at me, from out fo the blue since HE didn't do it!
4. I was sprayed with air freshener and brake fluid. So were various places in my house.
5. My kitchen cupboards were not spared. One of them was attacked with a flat head screwdriver. So was the drawer where I kept the family pictures,. with a few of them being stabbed as well.
6. I was treated to a flame show involving a spray can of lysol and a lighter. I got real serious, real quick and that was thankfully short lived.
7. The crowning touch was when he grabbed Baby's pacifier out of his mouth and stuck it in his boxers, rubbing it on his anatomy. This was all for my benefit as I was holding Baby at the time. I threw that one away, anyway...
Things are settled down, they actually settled about 30 minutes before the other kids started getting home from school.
Today, Saturday, he is working. He doesn't know that my husband and I talked about the option of helping him get the car, and decided on no. This is not the end. Sigh.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
Words
Words have such power. They have started wars. They have ended wars. They have begun a family. They have ended a family as well. The can heal. They can harm. They can bring tears of joy... or of sorrow. Words have such power.
"R" spent 5 years in foster care, and we are still awaiting the finalization of his adoption. 10 months doesn't seem like very long, but it is the longest he has ever spent in one place since going into the system 5 years ago. It is a lifetime.
"R" spent 5 years in foster care, and we are still awaiting the finalization of his adoption. 10 months doesn't seem like very long, but it is the longest he has ever spent in one place since going into the system 5 years ago. It is a lifetime.
I am a believer in mantras, mission statements, consistent key phrases, etc. I believe, though he is still not believing them, they are sticking in his head because he will bring them up every now and then. Often the conversations that surround the restating of these special words surprise me. It warms my heart too, because it is proof that "good stuff" is being planted and taking root! In his short life there has not been very much good stuff that has been planted, or there was no"Spring", the growing season, in which it had time to grow strong enough to withstand the storms of life.
So I choose to use consistent phrases to help him navigate what being in a family means, and sometimes just ways to deal with what life throws at him. Just to share a few:
"Your behavior has no bearing on your place in this family. You do not have to earn the right to stay here. You ARE here. You are my family. Period."
"Everyone has different gifts. Some just take longer to be realized." [he used this the other day in talking about a bio brother of his that is really struggling]
"You can be mad at someone, and still love them."
"You can be mad at me, and not like me. That doesn't mean you have to leave. All teenagers "hate" their parents sometimes. THAT is NORMAL! You can even tell me you hate me. It is okay."
"Family means nobody gets left behind." [yes, I love Lilo and Stitch!]
"That's just what a good mom does, and I am a good mom." [I say this one so often, he has started saying it for me, and in a snooty little voice too.]
"You get to choose who is in your life. Choose people that make it better."
"Relationships involve two people. I give, you give. That's how they work." [He made a comment about breaking up with his girlfriend of 2 weeks. He said she wanted to much of a relationship with him. He didn't want to be that involved.] So while there is some twisted logic here, he is learning the words, and once you have the words, your mind can just process things better. This is proven.
Having standard replies and phrases also helps me to respond and remain present when he is raging and using words from the previous post. I am human, not Super Mama! I usually have to get by myself and let at least a few tears fall after one of his verbal rages. It hurts, I get mad, I get offended. I think
"I am sorry I wasn't there to hold you when you were little."
"I am sorry you were hurt. I am sorry you were scared."
"You didn't do anything wrong. You were a child! I know you don't think it, but you still are a child. You are just trying to figure life out."
"I messed up. I should have brought you home when I brought your brother home. I am so sorry." [we adopted his bio brother 5 years ago]
"You ARE my son. I don't give a crap what anyone else says." [classy, huh?]
"You don't get to choose how my heart feels. You are my son. I do love you."
So I have secret phrases too, ones that often just run in my head as he yells and rages. Phrases to help me stay in that place of love. Phrases such as:
"Hurt people hurt people."
"How many hugs has he missed in his life?"
"What is really going on? What is he really saying?"
"This is the son God gave me. This is where God wants me. God's got this."
"Never lose hope. His heart will heal. Love is enough. "
.............and most important..............
"I claim this child. I claim his pain. He is mine."
It is amazing how just saying "THIS IS MY SON" brings out the protective side of this mama's heart. Often the "claiming" shifts me quite quickly from offended pride, to Mama bear. I am ready to take on whoever it was, whatever it was that hurt my son and is making him have to release the pain in such a nasty way. There is a quote I LOVE.
There is an instinct in a woman to love most her own child - and an instinct to make any child who needs her love, her own. ~Robert Brault
**** can I get an Amen?****
Words have such power. They have started wars. They have ended wars. They have begun a family. They have ended a family as well. The can heal. They can harm. They can bring tears of joy... or of sorrow. Words of such power.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Raw
Raw.
He tells me I'm a bitch. A fucking idiot. I deserve to have someone beat the shit out of me. I am fat. I am lazy. I am disgusting. I am worthless. I am gross.
Raw.
My son tells me a few times a week that he can not wait to get away from me. He hates it here. He
hates me. He hates everyone in this house. I am the most annoying person he has ever been around. Anywhere is better than here. I am not his mom. He will never love me, and once he leaves his is never coming back.
Raw.
I love him. He is my son, though he has been in my life as my son for only 10 months, moving in the day after his 16th birthday. I love him. He doesn't understand love. He says he loves me when I am mad and he knows he has gotten what he wants. So he can say "I love you" to try and smooth things over. But he doesn't, he cant because he
doesn't understand what love is. To hear him say it, not meaning it, not understanding it, knowing his smile and his desire to have me happy with him won't last past the end of whatever activity he is
getting to do hurts more than never hearing him say it at all.
Raw.
Most days when I approach him to talk to him he yells at me to quit following him. I am told to fucking stay out of his life. I am told to not do his laundry, not go through is back pack, not talk to his teachers, don't show up where he is... school, with friends, ball games etc. I am told to go away, go away, go away, go away, GO AWAY! Everything is a secret. Nothing is any of my business. He is none of my business, his life is none of my business.
He wants my money. He wants my sacrifice of time. Money and time without any strings, without any gratefulness, without any limits, without any commitment or reciprication from him. Nothing is enough, nothing is good enough.
Raw.
So I struggle to put into words how much my heart has been hurting lately. My heart has wounds that are raw and bleeding. I struggle to put into words how there are nights I go to bed feeling like I have been beaten down to the point that I cry myself to sleep. I can't tell you how many days I have cringed, knowing he is going to wake up soon. I cringe when the weekends approach knowing how he will hate me when he doens't get to do exactly what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. Most days I feel like I am arming myself for battle, steeling my heart, so that not all the flesh is flayed and raw.
I have to remind myself he doesn't know what love is. Everything he says to me, it has all been said to him. Only, when it was said to him, he was a child... and I am an adult. It should make it easier right? I am sure it does. How very scared and hurt he must have been, still is.
I have to be strong. I have to have courage. I have to heal quickly, and love in spite of the pain his words cause me. I can't guard my heart, partial love will not be enough. I have to be real, and I have to be strong enough to take his pain AND mine, until he is ready to take his back.
If he only knew, only understood how very much I love him. If he only knew how much his smile means to me. If he only knew how very hard I am fighting for him. Maybe he could quit fighting me just a little?
Some hurts are just too raw. He is not ready to heal, he is not ready to accept me as mom, he is not ready to receive or give love. His hurts are just still too big and raw.
Parenting hurt children is hard. It leaves your heart bruised, and leaves some wounds raw and bleeding. It requires strength you didn't know you had, courage you never knew you were capable of, compassion that only God can gift you, and a love that is pure and willing to be rejected over and over and over but never weaken (or at least not for long)....
He tells me I'm a bitch. A fucking idiot. I deserve to have someone beat the shit out of me. I am fat. I am lazy. I am disgusting. I am worthless. I am gross.
Raw.
My son tells me a few times a week that he can not wait to get away from me. He hates it here. He
hates me. He hates everyone in this house. I am the most annoying person he has ever been around. Anywhere is better than here. I am not his mom. He will never love me, and once he leaves his is never coming back.
Raw.
I love him. He is my son, though he has been in my life as my son for only 10 months, moving in the day after his 16th birthday. I love him. He doesn't understand love. He says he loves me when I am mad and he knows he has gotten what he wants. So he can say "I love you" to try and smooth things over. But he doesn't, he cant because he
doesn't understand what love is. To hear him say it, not meaning it, not understanding it, knowing his smile and his desire to have me happy with him won't last past the end of whatever activity he is
getting to do hurts more than never hearing him say it at all.
Raw.
Most days when I approach him to talk to him he yells at me to quit following him. I am told to fucking stay out of his life. I am told to not do his laundry, not go through is back pack, not talk to his teachers, don't show up where he is... school, with friends, ball games etc. I am told to go away, go away, go away, go away, GO AWAY! Everything is a secret. Nothing is any of my business. He is none of my business, his life is none of my business.
He wants my money. He wants my sacrifice of time. Money and time without any strings, without any gratefulness, without any limits, without any commitment or reciprication from him. Nothing is enough, nothing is good enough.
Raw.
So I struggle to put into words how much my heart has been hurting lately. My heart has wounds that are raw and bleeding. I struggle to put into words how there are nights I go to bed feeling like I have been beaten down to the point that I cry myself to sleep. I can't tell you how many days I have cringed, knowing he is going to wake up soon. I cringe when the weekends approach knowing how he will hate me when he doens't get to do exactly what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. Most days I feel like I am arming myself for battle, steeling my heart, so that not all the flesh is flayed and raw.
I have to remind myself he doesn't know what love is. Everything he says to me, it has all been said to him. Only, when it was said to him, he was a child... and I am an adult. It should make it easier right? I am sure it does. How very scared and hurt he must have been, still is.
I have to be strong. I have to have courage. I have to heal quickly, and love in spite of the pain his words cause me. I can't guard my heart, partial love will not be enough. I have to be real, and I have to be strong enough to take his pain AND mine, until he is ready to take his back.
If he only knew, only understood how very much I love him. If he only knew how much his smile means to me. If he only knew how very hard I am fighting for him. Maybe he could quit fighting me just a little?
Some hurts are just too raw. He is not ready to heal, he is not ready to accept me as mom, he is not ready to receive or give love. His hurts are just still too big and raw.
Parenting hurt children is hard. It leaves your heart bruised, and leaves some wounds raw and bleeding. It requires strength you didn't know you had, courage you never knew you were capable of, compassion that only God can gift you, and a love that is pure and willing to be rejected over and over and over but never weaken (or at least not for long)....
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