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. 

"Adoption Is Hard Sometimes"

My daughter said she got sad while coloring because she saw a page she had colored with her first mom.  I asked her how she feels when surprised by memories like that.  Does she wish she didn’t have them?  She said that it depends. Sometimes it is nice, but other times she wishes it wouldn’t happen. 

Then she said, “Adoption is hard sometimes, especially for me because I get really emotional.”  I assured her that she is just the right amount of emotional.

That’s a pretty smart girl!