5 years....

5 years. In 5 years one would assume that a person would be accustomed to the world around them. In five years a person should know the expectations and routines. In five years a person should be comfortable. 5 years is nothing! Nothing when your first five years were traumatic, unpredictable, and horrifying. My two older adopted children have been with me for five years and still my daughter, who is now nine, fears there won’t be food, fears that there won’t be shelter, fears bad men, and worst of all fears that she will not be allowed to stay with me, that she will be alone. She has not been able to be fully comfortable. As much as she wants to be here in the present but her past rules her. Don’t get me wrong, she has healed some, but five years of being safe is no competition to the five years of hell she has been through! I made a comment when looking in the fridge that we had no food (meaning that I wanted to make for dinner.) When it came time for dinner, her thanks was: “I am thankful that my mommy found us food and has her grocery list to remember to get more.” She loves looking at the grocery list, if there is nothing on it she writes stuff just so we don’t forget to go to the store. She enjoys knowing that I have money in the bank even though her FASD makes her understanding of the value of money hard. She is always afraid when I leave even though I have countlessly shown her I come back. She becomes aggressive and animalistic when she feels threatened. She desperately wants to be so close to me, but reacts when she feels herself being vulnerable. She lives in a perceived reality that is frustrating for those around her but not near as frustrating as it is for her that we don’t understand her. She challenges my life and parenting daily. I have realized that she may never change to who the world expects her to be but that my job is instead to give her a world that works best for her.

quick catch up...

I enjoy writing on here, even if no one ever reads it. I like to read others blog and feel the similarities and challenge myself when I feel that others have a better way than I do. I also, being a single mom, enjoy sharing my childrens life. It has been so long since I blogged last or even connected to my fostercare/adoption people. We have had many short term placements come and go, we have had upheavels in our support system, and we have had many many ups and downs. Most importantly we also had our adoption! My dear children had to wait four and a half years for permancy, four and a half years! They are MINE now, all mine! I love every ounce of them no matter how much they push me away. The adoption did cause some regression, but that was expected. We also had a med change that led to an extreme psychotic reaction, which sadly led to a hospitilization. If you have never had to do that be thankful, if you have you know it is increadibly hard. I would never have done it if my child wasn't an danger to herself and others. When my eight year old gave me a detailed plan of how she planed on ending our entire family's lives, I had no other choice. Then to try to parent your child when they are away from home is amazingly hard. The staff felt they knew my child more than I do. my daughter gets aggressive, super aggressive when she feels unsafe. So obviously when she is away from home in a new environment she felt very unsafe and became aggressive. I told them this would happen. I only wanted her there long enough to detox from the med that gave her the reaction, the aggression I can handle. They told me that they couldn't release her until she was safe for 72 hours in a row! HA! Then they told me that the female staff couldn't handle her so the placed her with a male one on one aid. Really!? Um... could someone look back into her files... um PTSD- triggers 1. men (specifically black men)!!!! The CEO of that place knows my name now and I had my baby back on Monday morning. She has had no more suicidal/homicidal ideations since the med change. My point is I advocate for these children in my sleep, seriously! Somedays when I am up against a RAD/FASD wall advocating for the world to change is all I can do.

Happy birthday D!

Today was my nephew's fifth birthday party. I love him so much, he is such a little stinker. He is my sister's bio child and her one with "special" needs. He is a genius, truly. She began wondering if he was autistic, and had him go through several screenings and it turns out his IQ is just extremely high. He just turned five and can read and write anything and can figure out complex math problems. He is behind socially and has a lot of quirks that can make other kids and parents uncomfortable. I hate to say it, but it is nice that she has him, because it can give me someone to talk to. THe issues are so different, but to have a special needs child puts you in a different place as a parent.

On a negative note, my mom was there and decided to criticize my parenting in front of my 8yo daughter who was having an "evil" moment! She is having a hard time understanding that getting mad at somebody doesn't mean that you hate them. She also needs to learn to stop blaming me for everything and feeling so bad for herself, but she'll get there. She did end up turning herself around though and had a good time though she tried to milk my mom to get out of the situation.

Learning to Juggle

I always wanted to learn how to juggle.

Seriously as a kid they did a weekend juggling lesson at the YWCA and I begged my mom to let me go. We were broke, something I didn't understand then, but instead of being honest with me and telling me that we couldn't afford it my mom was prideful so she told me that I would never learn how to juggle, that I wasn't coordinated enough. This was my moms way of deflecting the real reasons to keep her pride in check, but she was such a loving mom in everything else why shouldn't I believe her?
I wanted to join Girl Scouts, she told me that she asked around and none of the groups wanted me. I wanted to play an instrument in band, she told me I couldn't find a beat and I would give up after a day any way and it wasn't worth the investment. I stopped asking for things. I realized that I couldn't see the board in fifth grade, I didn't get glasses until I was a junior in high school because I refused to ask for them, but I failed my eye screen in drivers ed. My Senior year in HS I got nominated for a leadership award, part of this award was a weekend trip to meet the other winners and go to leadership seminars. My mom told me not to go, that she loved me but that if I were to go the other kids wouldn't like me and they would make fun of me because I was fat. When it was time to go to college, I applied to a college four hours away. My mom made me fear it and almost made me quit with all of her negative speech. My moms hold on me led to a lot of my decisions. I was convinced she was right, I must not be worth much, I cannot accomplish much, I am really nowhere as good as my sister.

When I knew I wanted to be a foster parent, I did it all with out letting my mom know, she didn't find out until the weekend before I was licensed. I couldn't bear her negative look on it and have her be able to talk me down before starting. She was negative, told me she thought I made a stupid decision, and probably ruined the rest of my life. She came around to the kids. In the time I was fostering my sister had a son. I love my nephew so much, he is fantastic. My AS was born in the same year and came to me 9months after my nephew was born. My mom said its not the same and one day I would understand. Two years later I found out that I was going to adopt my baby and she told me to really think about it. A month before his adoption, I told my mom that I could no longer bear her negativity, my self worth could not be based on all of her fears and insecurities. I told her I was capable, and I told her that if she couldn't muster up enough love for me and my son to respect what this meant then she could leave. She slapped me in my face. However, she did come to my sons adoption and loves him in her way. My mom will always look at everything I do through a negative scope and try to get me to a dark place, but now I am strong enough to know when to hang up the phone.

This whole thought came to me because while I might parent differently and understand my children's strengths and weaknesses, I will never define them for them. I will never tell them they cannot do things. I do not hold the answer to that. Instead I will give them baby steps and directions to succeed. I will always believe with them even if it is hard to.

In other words, I finally learned how to juggle!