You Can Say No, But...

When you go through the foster licensing process, there is a special form you have to fill in. It is just a long, long, long checklist of diagnoses and descriptions. You have to say yes or no to each on that list.  My husband and I have filled it in three separate times. 

It is a little like a game. We sit staring at one another as the social worker reads each item on the list. The game is trying to answer the same as your partner.  Not really, our rule is that if one says no, then the answer is no, but still. 

It isn't actually a game, but trying to be playful takes the ick off the process. It feels so wrong rejecting unknown kids based on the things that oughtn't define them. At the same time, it is an important step in the process. First, it compels careful consideration (Accidental alliteration! score!) by the prospective family. You have to talk about what you're willing and able to do. 

When we lived in a teeny apartment, a wheelchair was not an option, so we needed to say no. My husband and I have taken ASL classes and love the language, so we said yes to children who were deaf or hard of hearing. We had two aging dogs, so cruelty to animals was a no-go for us. ADHD and dyslexia are in the water we drink, so those were easy yeses for us, too. If you don't think you can do it, you should say no, because these kids coming from hard places need to be welcomed.

So, you do the icky list. It's rough, but get through it and take it seriously (while you're having fun) and say your no. It matters...until it doesn't.

Yep, that's the catch. Just like with biological kids, there is a lot out of our control with foster and adopted kids. Life happens. And people living in dinky apartments sometimes end up needing to use wheelchairs.

We made our list this time around, too. There are things we said no to that are now part of our lives. The difference is that we aren't talking about abstract experiences or diagnoses. They are our little girls and there is no backing out now--and we wouldn't dream of it.

Dual Lives: Trauma and Handwriting

Raising kids from hard places is complicated.  Raising kids is complicated. It is more than a 24/7 job. Somehow, we manage to fit more than the allotted time because there is just so much to do, so much to worry about, so much to pray about.

The thing that makes raising kids who have been exposed to trauma different is that the two don't--or shouldn't--go together. Kids are kids. They are wiggly, curious, excited, inexperienced, naive, naughty little sponges. Trauma is traumatic. It breaks and twists. It changes brains and scars personalities. It brings out fearfulness. It brings intimate knowledge of hard things, things no one needs to know. It causes people to exist in the flight/fight realm even when everything should be calm and safe.

Again, the two oughtn't go together. Kids and trauma shouldn't mix. But they do, and all too often.

Raising kids exposed to trauma means embracing the whole unwieldy mess. It means teaching kids about hygiene, handwriting, and how to greet people, but being ready to stop the world when a memory unravels them. 

When it is possible, you have to keep going with normal life. And normal life is engrossing. Brush your teeth already! Please make your lips touch when you have food in your mouth. Julius Caesar had gained popularity with the general public by winning distant wars. But the Roman governing officials didn't want a king. You may play with that after you clean up the toys you were playing with. Suddenly normal life is set aside because something is wrong. What?

It's even more complex when the memories are so buried that the child can't articulate what they are responding to. Triggers are everywhere and every-day life can feel like a mine field. When a sound, a temperature, a texture, a taste, a gas station, an atmosphere, or a smell can remind a child's body of a time when they felt threatened or unsafe, the child doesn't always understand what is happening. They fight to figure things out, when everyone around that continues to act normally, like the world isn't on fire. It is confusing and scary. And their behavior can also become confusing and scary.

As parents, we become detectives. But we must move delicately, like studying a most rare and fragile flower, or navigating a snakes'-den of wires on a bomb. Or both. 

To do it well, you have to walk the tight-rope. You need to press on with normal life, ever vigilant for triggers.  You need to continually strengthen attachment, so that when things get hard, they trust you to see them through. They can't do it alone. And neither can you.

Pivot!

We bought the girls bunk beds with a trundle! So exciting! Our littlest broke her crib months ago and her mattress has been on the floor since then.  Not ideal. In fact, it's not allowed if we were still licensed to foster.

We finally resolved it by purchasing a bed.  My husband and I had fun--well, I did, anyway--moving the beds between two rooms to see if we could get all three into one space to open up the other room for play. The obvious solution? Bunks!

Off we went in search of the perfect space-saving sleepers. And we found one with a trundle, no less. Marvelous! Everyone was so excited!

But reality. Predictably unpredictable, the girls were triggered. It took about 24 hours for one to come talk with us. Another hasn't said anything, but she is acting oddly enough that even this dope-of-a-mom figured out she has things going on, too.

Well, poop. Time to pivot. 

I let the girls know that we will keep all the new beds separate and where their old beds were--no designated playroom or group sleeps--for now.  OH! They were all so sad. I worked to explain that Daddy and I wanted this as badly as they did. But the Bible teaches us that we make our plans, and the Lord directs our steps. It is so important to move forward with our plans in a way that we are interruptible and redirectable. 

This is the life. It is true for everyone, really. But it is pronounced when raising children exposed to trauma. We can and should plan. But, as a precious friend always says, we must hold those plans loosely. It would be foolhardy to press on with a plan God doesn't endorse. He knows so much more and loves so much better than we do. It's ridiculous to not lean on His understanding and welcome His will.

When we do stack the beds, it will be at the right time, and it is going to be a party!

Just Be Easy!

My husband and I were talking about parenting the other day. There are times when we feel so successful, and then there are the other times. 

As we shared different stories where we failed to respond well, we saw a pattern. We took turns sharing stories, and they all seemed to go like this. 

A child misbehaves and we handle it with patience, humor, redirection, and calmness. 

That child misbehaves again--repeating the previous action or inventing a new way to be disruptive, disrespectful, or dangerous. And we handle it calmly, the child recovers, and we move on. 

Then that child is downright mean to a sibling, and we facilitate her making it right. 

After two minutes, the child makes eye contact and directly disobeys, "don't-touch-THIS?" style. We take a deep breath and respond like a pro, employing curiosity and remembering that behavior is communication of a need. We discover and meet that need with gentle questions and innovative solutions. 

Then she either does something she can't help, like burps or trips; OR she goes in for a pound and escalates to 11 with no apparent trigger.  Either way, we lose it and blow it. Inside (and sometimes outside) we wail, OH MY WORD, JUST BE EASY!

We keep on keeping on. I think we are improving--every one of us. But we still fall flat on our faces more often than we want. 

March: 2019

Continuing our retrospective into Marches past, we zoom from 2018 to 2019. We lost our precious girl to a Native American family thanks to ICWA laws. It was devastating and our family was still in the deep throes of shock and grief. 

To be honest, the four of us still have wounds from losing our little girl that merely gape a little less. We miss her and pray for her daily.

At this point (in 2019), we were licensed with an agency and hoping to be a safe place for kids in need.  We'd given ourselves a month to make zero decisions after our girl left. Then we discussed whether we would continue as a foster family.  We unanimously decided that if kids didn't get to choose to be foster kids, we WOULD choose to meet them there.  We knew it would be hard, but we could trust Jesus to sustain us.

On a more celebratory note, my first daughter graduated high school! In March, I was writing her transcripts, and she was wrapping up final projects to complete her high school education on the fifth of April. Pretty exciting stuff. She did not enjoy school, and her graduation marked an accomplishment that I hope she still loves.  

Our son was in college, and I decided to join him. In March, we were preparing to begin at WGU on the first of April. I was finally going to get my BA! I spent March hunting down transcripts from my lifetime before raising two kids.

What a March!

Doctor Update

 In case you were wondering, I have an update on our therapy referral. Guess what? We're wait-listed because the therapist is on maternity leave til May.  

So, there we go.

To Intervene or Not to Intervene—The Daily Parenting Question

What do you do when you hear the kids ramping up for either a good old-fashioned fight or a too-much-fun hullabaloo?  The former usually ends with broken things and angry kids.  The latter usually ends with broken kids and angry parents. 

I have a few standard responses.  I holler from the bottom of the stairs, or I might march to the playroom and ask, “What’s going on?” If I’m yelling from the other room, I get the same volume answer: “Nothing!” If I’m in the same room, I am blessed with wide-eyed innocent faces coupled with the same answer.

Another common response I give is cautionary or corrective words. “Be sweet!” “Calm down, please!” To this, the kids might yell that they are being sweet or calming with zero discernable change in behavior. Or they may take the opportunity to highlight someone else’s misbehavior.

We still end up with something getting broken and someone getting angry. Well, I have discovered a new tactic that is—so far—working like magic. Are you ready for my brilliance?

Now when I hear muffled or maniacal laughter or an escalating argument I say, with a smile in my voice, “Do you need my help?” Oh, folks!  This is a game-changer in my house!

First, this builds our golden goal of attachment because my offer is a desirable thing; I am coming to help rather than correct or scold.  It’s good for all of us to remember that.

Second, the girls can conduct a self-assessment and decide if an adult is needed. This pause in their activity seems to be enough to regulate their bodies.

Third, I think there is a surprise psychological component to this tactic. I imagine sets of eyes meeting across the room, and the prisoner’s dilemma comes to life. I’m approximately half-joking about that.

The girls have asked for help and have declined my offer with this tactic, and both ways qualify as a win.  When I go to help, we are all unified in seeking a solution rather than blaming or feeling shame.  If I don’t help, I hear the narration of them working out the issue and I am so proud of them gaining negotiating and peace-making skills.

How do you de-escalate kids getting too rowdy? How successful is it?

Attachment Injury--the Dos and Don'ts

I talked about the power of yes earlier.  It is crucial to kids’ development to receive innumerable yeses.  While meeting that need, we must monitor exactly who gives out those yeses.  Getting a yes from anyone and everyone doesn’t serve the kids well. On the contrary, it actually causes harm.

We are fearfully and wonderfully complicated creatures, praise be to God!  As such, no part of us functions in isolation—and there are many parts to us.  Kids need those yeses to develop cognitively, emotionally, and socially.  However, forming strong, healthy attachments is just as imperative. 

Kids from hard places often sustain significant and multiple attachment injuries.  Some are injured to the extent that they stop seeing people and relationships as valuable (because they are unreliable).  Instead, they see people as tools to get what they need—or want, but that’s another post for another day. 

It is easy to see how this happens. Kids go to school and daycare where every adult is there to respond to the kids’ needs.  Both places—daycares to a greater degree—have a high turnover rate.  The kids are trained to listen to and receive help from any adult.  Add social workers to the mix and consider how we tell foster kids to get into a car with the new social worker (a stranger) who will take them to see their parents.  I remember with every foster placement we had losing count of the social workers. How wacky is that?! 

In addition, kids from hard places don’t often attend family functions where the parents are the sole caregivers in a sea of ‘other’ adults.  Think about birthday parties, libraries, children's museums, and places of worship. Because of this, foster kids can lose the ability to distinguish the significance between adults.  When they don’t have a steadfast set of adults who are only there for them, there’s no wonder.

Autumn starts with too many Halloween events where kids literally wander around taking candy from strangers. Next, there are a plethora of Santa visits where kids are told to sit on the laps of men they do not know and tell them their deepest wishes.  Foster kids are often enrolled in extra programs like WIC, therapies, services, and medical screenings.  That means more strangers are asking personal questions and conducting exams (with the requisite piece of candy at the end of every meeting).

This doesn’t even touch on family/home life, where strangers are primary caregivers.  Strangers doing baths and bedtime routines.  Strangers doing breakfast. Strangers, with their different smells, different voices, different food…  Strangers meeting the need for comfort and affection—or not. And who knows how long this place will be?

It makes perfect sense that over time a kid would think that all adults are there to serve them.  Understandably, kids from hard places have a weird sense of entitlement.  It also follows that they wouldn’t dare attach to any particular adult, but still be happy to get a much-needed hug and gift from one, without bothering to learn that adult’s name or caring if they meet again.

This is when kids learn to use affection as a commodity and develop masterful manipulation skills.  These behaviors are cultivated to survive but can become ingrained and intensely difficult to undo even when they find a safe and stable environment.

To protect children from a diagnosis like RAD (Reactive Attachment Disorder), we must help them know who their adults are.  And it is important for other adults to consistently direct the kids to their primary adults for all their needs.  This is tough.  The kids are sweet and huggable. Their stories inspire compassion. Their reactions to even little gifts are phenomenal; who wouldn’t want that hit of dopamine?  But true love does what is best for the other, and what is best for kids from hard places is to heal from attachment injuries.  And that is done by letting them know they have special adults who belong to them above everyone else. 

What does this look like day-to-day? You don’t have to push them away or do anything that feels like rejection.  Gentle redirection with open body language builds appropriate connections without undermining the attachments growing in the new family.

Ø  Showing joy with smiles and high-fives when you see kids from hard places. 

Ø  Limiting tangible gifts.  This helps them see you as a person with value in your presence, rather than what you bring.

Ø  Sitting a child next to you rather than on your lap.

Ø  Affirming a need and stating that their adult would be happy to meet it.  “Wow! You drank all your water. Nicely done. I know Mommy would love to get you more if you're still thirsty.”

Ø  Consistently and visibly acknowledging parents as authority.  “You want to go outside? What does Daddy say about that?”

Ø  The best thing to do is check in with parents privately for guidance.

I wish I had known this before. When I loved other people’s foster and adopted kids, I didn’t know.  I learned the most by watching an informed friend relate to my daughters with astounding love and astonishing wisdom.  I hadn’t even noticed what she was doing until she mentioned it when she checked in with me.  She had never given them food or drink, never helped with a shoe or jacket!  She managed to use exceeding grace in directing them my way for everything. These subtle nudges underscored for my kids appropriate ways to relate to us as parents and to other trusted-but-secondary adults in their lives. 

The Power of Yes

 Are you familiar with the term TBRI? It stands for Trust-Based Relational Intervention.  Karyn Purvis is credited with its creation, and you can check her and her ideas out at the links below.  It is worth your time.  While taught to adults who love kids from hard places, the ideas apply broadly and are helpful across the board.

One of the ideas I learned was the notion of yes. I will speak in generalities, but concrete information is available in those links.  Basically, we all need to hear a mammoth number of yeses in our first years. This sets us up to develop successfully through the stages of early childhood.  It touches on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and Erikson’s Stages of Development.

Maslow teaches that until the basic needs are met (along the lines of shelter, food, and security), we cannot develop at higher levels (like academics and morality). You can check out more at Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs.

Erikson teaches that in the first five years, kids need to learn that they can trust their caregivers, that they are themselves capable people, and have a purpose. More on Erikson’s stages can be found here. Erikson's Stages of Psychosocial Development - StatPearls - NCBI Bookshelf

The idea is that kids need to hear yes (in word and action) thousands of times for them to move through these critical stages of development successfully.  Meaning that they will be equipped to tackle the next stages with confidence and a sense of self-efficacy.  The stages build on one another, and without firm foundations, they are left limping through life.  In short, the yeses count.

Kids from hard places, who’ve experienced trauma, abuse, and/or neglect, lack the necessary number of yeses. To build their resiliency and provide them with what they need to continue to grow, we need to make up for the loss of yes in their lives. How do we make up for all the yeses? 

It’s a big and essential task. In the TBRI training, we learn to do our best to create opportunities for yes.  An example is to have snacks available all the time, but require the children to ask for them—so that you can tell them yes! To help children feel safe with us as caregivers, we need to find ways to provide nurturing that they either missed entirely or lost when they were removed from their first caregivers.  That can mean massages and snuggles.  It might also mean feeding the kids—in a straightforward manner or playfully like throwing popcorn for them to catch in their mouths. 

In my family, I am still very hands-on in the bathroom with bathing and toileting.  They need the extra touch time and nurturing that comes from applying lotion and assuring basic hygiene practices are followed.  I frequently feed my youngest and try to give a cup of milk to her on demand.  She needs this the way an infant does. 

Because that is another thing we learned. When kids come from sustained trauma, new caregivers need to cut their chronological age in half (and round down!) to understand where they may be developmentally.  That means the two-, five-, and seven-year-olds who arrived in our lives were more like one, two, and three! 

This drives home the wisdom of a friend who was comforting me when we had had the girls for about ten months.  She told me we had ten-month-old triplets who happened to be two, six, and eight. This was the most accurate (though seemingly paradoxical) description of our situation.

https://youtu.be/7vjVpRffgHQ?si=w9IcgVVUa9zjEOU4

Karyn Purvis Institute of Child Development