When Trauma Monsters come creeping…

I am sad…I am sad that my kids are so uber sensitive, and trigger so easily…. And are so VERY fragile. It DRIVES me CR-AZ-Y when people say…”Oh just let them be kids….they will figure it out, they don’t need therapy, or special treatment, kids are so resilient.” SURVIVING is not resilience people, breathing in and out in not fully functioning. And if kids are so Stinkn’ resilient…How the Sam-Hell do we have so many messed up adults? Now I didn’t do so hot in Algebra…but doing the math …most adults that have “issues” didn’t buy them off the street at age 18…just sayin’.

My little Missie shocked the pants off me today, she has been in the realm of some darn good, deep down healing…and a time bomb triggered and blew up in both her and my face today…

I have often talked about the fact that I used to work for, and help process adoptions for the children at my kiddo’s O. The director G and his wife M, are dear friends, and I have lived/stayed for much time in their home/Orphanage, while my children awaited the finalization of their adoption.

Well yesterday, a phone call came, “M” was coming in a few hours to “stop by and visit”, and as much as I appreciate her good will, and want to “pop in” and surprise me and the kiddo’s…the end of our honeymoon period was a direct result of our family attending the “Orphanage Reunion” that is thrown for the families every summer….and this was NOT going to be a healthy surprise…and I kindly ( but still totally managed to offend) declined ….


Jump to today. The park. With nine kids. Hundreds of strangers. First day of “free lunch”.I am stupid.
So when a controlling behavior hits, my Mama radar is flipped on….and I can smell it-a-comin’. One particular child’s talent is the “Eating like a Turtle”…she gets dis-regulated and you bet this one ditty is gonna come out to play. Imagine 8 kids, each totally hooked up with a Wonderbread sandwich’s (ew), apple slices, Sun Chips, Milk and Juice….all of this being consumed (first day of Summer…what the hey).
And El’ Diva is on her third bite of crust. The amount of energy it must take to count to 100 between bites (cause I SWEAR that is what she must be doing)….has got to be sapping all of her energy..cause MAN-OH-MAN is it sapping mine…and I am biting the insides of my cheeks….knowing the next trigger for the other kids (which is exactly why this is the controlling behavior of choice)..is that their food is gone, and she still has hers…and they have to sit and watch her finish her food. Right? …so after clean up and wipe down and throwing away and folding up the blanket, and potty trips, and reloading babies in strollers…she was on bite #4…and well, I said, “lunch time is over, lets take your food home, and you can have it for snack, I AM NOT THROWING IT AWAY, in fact you may finish your sandwich in the car….”

BOOOOOOOOOM…did you feel the ground shake say 12:34 Mountain Standard time in your area?....yeah…that’s what that was.

We couldn’t safely get her in the car…the kicking, scratching, biting, screaming…and no zip-ties for car seat….me and the other 8 had to wait it on out….as did our audience…of 100 mini-van Mommies….wondering “What did that white Lady do to that poor little Brown girl…wait a minute, is she really double flipping the bird…wow the things that family must teach their children”…again just speculating…couldn’t hear over the wailing/gnashing of teeth and general screams of “I HATE YOU”.
30 minutes later…(and I am praying no one has called the police)…we are ready for take off…our trip to the library has been prematurely canceled…bummer.

Once home, littles put down….older kiddo’s reading time …and the rage revs on up for a personal screening….
Two hours later…I want to bang my own head into a wall, instead of protecting her from hurting her own noggin.

And here it comes…: “I DON’T WANT TO LIVE HERE…I AM GOING TO GO LIVE AT M’s HOUSE….I AM LEAVING!!!"

Hello ”Light-bulb-moment”…thank you for finally showing your freaking face.

Apparently my hyper-vigilant little one had heard my phone conversation…and wigged a little…(snort).

My little 5 year old was terrified she was being taken back, away from Mommy…so it was MUCH MUCH easier, to reject, runway and CHOOSE to leave….instead of being abandoned again…..and my heart breaks…and the empathy comes.

She is still fighting mad, telling me how much she HATES me, how much BETTER she liked M’s house, that she had Chocolate cake everyday….and I calmly listen, validate, tell her how much "I wish she would have been able to have Chocolate Cake at M’s house…and that I have something to tell her"….here is where she covers her ears..starts jumping on the bed and sings.."I am NOT LISTENING"….so I remember a trick I learned from House Calls Counseling…the great, “not talking about it trick”…

Papillion had walked in to check in on me and let me know she was done reading…and I asked her if I could tell her a BIG FAT SECRET…she said “sure”…and I told the Div’s to cover her ears..this was a SECRET she can’t hear it..I DON’T want you to LISTEN”…(and of Mwahahaha she was ALL EARS).

“Papillon”. I tell her, “I DON’T WANT DIVA TO HEAR THIS…BUT, I WILL NEVER, AND I MEAN NEVER, EVER, EVER, LET HER GO TO BACK TO M’s HOUSE, OR BACK TO LIVE IN HAITI, SHE IS MY BABY, DIVA , NO MATTER HOW BIG SHE GETS WILL BE MY BABY…AND I WILL LOVE HER NO MATTER WHAT”….”If anyone EVER tried to take or hurt my baby…I would beat them up and say NO WAY DUDE!”

….and that big beautiful “secret”….broke a dam…and things started to flood.

Big tears…and her little finger is pointing…”I HEARD you, I Heard what you said….”

“What did I say baby girl?”

“That you never ever and no matter what gonna ever let me go away, cause I’s your baby!”

…..and she was RIGHT….and the ugly Monster went back into the closet…a little bit smaller tonight…..