When it hits you in the HEART....

When it breaks your heart. When your children’s emotional disabilities hit you so hard in the stomach you cry and ache with them… you want to throw up. I have been there with many of my children. The blank look they give you when you try to help them understand, relate, and they can’t. They are emotionally blind. They don’t “get it”..and they WANT TO!!!

Tonight the darling little blonde girl (think goldie-locks) stopped by with her big brother. She had lent Scoobs a ball last week. I did not know that she had loaned the ball, I did not remember the ball, and therefor I was positive the ball had already been lost, destroyed or both.

I called Scoobs down, and with the kids waiting in the Foyer, asked him where the ball was. He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I didn’t play with it that long, then it rolled down the hill, got stuck under a car and got popped.”
Goldie-locks eyes got sad.

My heart sunk, I did not want to, but here came the hard part, the object lesson, that he was not going to get, but still had to learn.
“Scooby, remember the ball we bought at the yard sale last weekend?” (the one he has been taking so proudly to school for recess everyday)

“Yeah Mom.”

“You lost and knew the ball you borrowed from Goldie was ruined, you did not take care of it, or return it, sooo….you need to give her your ball.”

I watched as his little gray eyes filled with RAGE, his hands clutched in fists, his chin jutted out and his little bottom lip stuck out.

“NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOO!”

There was no use trying to explain, I went and found the ball, tried to give him the opportunity to hand it to Goldie…instead he ran up the stairs with the ball…screaming.

I calmly asked the siblings to “wait.”

As I tried to retrieve the ball,he tried to scratch , pinch, kick and bite me.
I brought it down to the kids, their eyes HUGE.

I calmly told them “He is sorry, he didn’t think to bring it back, please wait before you loan him anything else.”
They nodded and were happy to get out of my now sound breaking home.

Scoobs slammed the door, over and over again, SCREAMMING “I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU…and worse.”

I calmly picked up my hurt, sad, angry, boy. I walked into our music room holding him, so he couldn’t hurt me, or himself and sang his lullaby until he calmed.
Then he sobbed.
“Why did you give them my ball, it was mine.”

I used what we call the “you’s”, helping our kids relate to others feelings by only talking about them.

Scooby, If you had let Goldie play with your ball, would you want it back?”

“Yeah., but I wouldn’t let her, cause she’s a girl and it’s my ball.”

“O.K. but lets say that you did, would you want her to play with it and bring it back?”

“Yes”

“Well what if she didn’t bring it back?”

“Then I would go to her house and say , HEY , give me my ball back you dumb girl.”

“Not real nice, but O.K.”

“Bud, what if you went to her house, and she said, I don’t know where your ball is , I was done playing with it, and I saw it go down the hill and get popped.”

“I would get MAD and want to hit her, and tell her she better get me a new ball.”

“I soo understand those feelings you would have, do you think maybe that is how Goldie felt?”….


MORE SOBBING…and I hugged and cuddled and cried with my little boy…next came the bullet right between my eyes, because though I am parenting this everyday, there are times I FORGET to “get” my own kids.

I snuggled him as he calmed and softly said, “and buddy, being Goldie’s friend and doing the right thing, is more important than a ball, a friendship is more important.”

And he started crying again:
“But Mama, I don’t know what it means to have a friendship.”

…..and that is when your heart bleeds and tears leak out of your eyes….as you snuggle in deeper and promise your child, “but you will know sweet boy, you will.”

Make. It. Right.

So our kids mess up, they screw up, they destroy, devour, steal, lie, hoard, pee on random stuff, leave stuff animals headless with all the stuffing spread out like a freaking blizzard just hit the piano room (not that I would know personally), they cut up hand-made baby blankets, draw with sharpie marker on wood floor and dining room tables, pee in plastic Easter eggs, kick screens out of windows, and much , MUCH more…again just things I have heard of…shea right.

Did I mention the Child, cough, teen that washed ALL of my windows with toilet bowel cleaner…and YES there is a PICTURE of a toilet on the bottle ..so no confusion was made…..(they were pretty, kinda like milky stained glass)…and YAY….we got to wash them again..so they were extra sparkling clean!

My house is a Freaking Crime Scene, is yours?
I have been so tempted to do a photo essay of just my house, a” before and after” testament of R.A.D. if you will….

In a lot of ways destruction, pushing limits, lying, even stealing are all in the “normal” gambit of child behaviors, many of them necessary and part of development. Sadly kids with attachment…get STUCK on these behaviors; they depend on these behaviors to SPEAK the words they can not. IT SUCKS!!!!…and what works with “most children”…the so called “Punishment to fit the Crime”…are light years away from being effective for kids with Attachment Struggles.

Asking a Child “why did YOU do that”, pushing the truth “I KNOW you are lying to me”. “DID YOU REALLY DO THIS, REALLY?”……DOES NOT WORK…..uh uh not at all…unless you have a cushioned seat, a big bag of popcorn popped and are ready for a show (cause at this point, you just set the stage for one Giant yarn of a tale to be woven)…or a dandy lil’ rage, or a Popsicle impersonation….all NOT super fun in the grand scheme of things…but at this point you have lost mama, you have lost them learning ANYTHING effective.

Much like an INCREDIBLE Vid my friend Christine made…and the WISE words

she illustrated…you need to give them the opportunity to MAKE IT RIGHT, fix it, because they NEED to!

Just ask em for help! “Hey can ya come over here and help me wash out these Plastic Easter Eggs before we put them away for next year?...”

“I didn’t PEE in the EASTER EGG.”

“Not saying you did, but hey, I sure could use some help, want to grab the soap for me?”
*Most my kids would reluctantly help, “el Diva la Popsicle”, will FREEZE. So that is a great time to use the “Great, I’ll do it for BOTH of us and when you are ready JUMP on in.” (and that works *most* of the time)

With 8 potential perps , I often know each and every-single-stinking-one on my kids M.O.’s…their Crimes and Behaviors of Choice. However, being accusatory, especially when it is the WRONG kid, can further damage attachment. So the Make it right technique works beautifully for me and my BIG little family.

Giving my kids a way and opportunity to fix their wrongs is really what we all need to learn how to do. What does “I’m sorry, really mean, if we don’t back it up?”…We are teaching our kids to back up the “I am sorry”, before they learn the words.

…..and IF we make a mistake of thinking so-and-so peed on the chair and it was a totally different so-and-so…no damage done, because they are simply helping Mama…..

Cause if we are “Helping we are Happy”….er sumthin…..

But give em a chance, to MAKE. IT. RIGHT.

The Human Experience - Official Trailer [HD]

I watched this last night with my husband. If you have NETFLIX, it is not Instant watch...It. WILL. TOUCH. YOU. It will make you cry, it will make you remember, it will remind you what life is really about, it will make you want to be better. It IS that GOOD...and HARD and BEAUTIFUL....
The loss of attachment and PAIN Jeff feels, the honesty he speaks about in being abused and neglected, and how that affected him in everything, was haunting and so very brave....It made me want to try harder, be softer, Remember where my children are coming from...and be grateful for what I have and what I CAN give.....

The Tomb was EMPTY

A Little Story

One Easter Sunday a teacher being creative, handed her class Empty Plastic Eggs , and asked them to go out side and collect an item that reminded them of Jesus , or the Easter story.
After everyone had come inside everyone Oooohhed and awed over the butterfly, or flower, beautiful blades of grass, or a twig. last came David. He was a quiet sometimes difficult little boy with Downs Syndrome. When it was his turn , everyone soon found his Egg to be empty. The teacher wondering weather he had understood the object of the lesson..then herd these words: " but the tomb was empty".
Three weeks later the class was attending Davids sweet funeral. The onlookers watched as child by child walked to the casket and placed an Empty Egg on Davids small casket.
The banner on his casket read: THE TOMB WAS EMPTY.

What a gentle reminder that because Christ resurrected, we can to.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************

I rarely share our experience with losing Gibson. I guess in a way it has been too raw, and sacred to our family to talk about the small child that we will always ache to hold, and have faith that we will, someday
Two years ago on Easter Sunday, while sitting in sacrament meeting, I had a brief but strong thought or feeling, that something had happened to one of our children in Haiti. Knowing that Diva had been struggling emotionally...my heart sunk thinking, perhaps she had passed away.
I didn't share this feeling with anyone, not wanting my Husband or the kids to think I was crazy , or being negative. But I did carry that feeling with me throughout the week. Since we hadn't heard anything on, Monday, or Tuesday...i figured I was just crazy and filed that feeling into my PTSD of adoption issues.

Then early Thursday morning, we received a phone call. Before Hubbie answered the phone, I knew.
Thinking it was Diva, I watched my husband speak on the phone, in hushed tones, as tears formed in the corners of his deep blue eyes. "Okay, okay, when, how...okay, thanks". After he hung up ...all he could say was "Gibson".
Our baby boy, the child that shared our Wedding Anniversary for his birthdate, had become ill,he was throwing up and had severe runs.
They took him to the hospital...but Heavenly Father had other plans for him.
He passed minutes after arriving at the hospital, Gibson passed away from dehydration.

To my understanding Gibson passed on April 11th, Easter Sunday.
We gathered our children into our bedroom. Bugs was then 5, Scooby 3, and Peanutbutter 18 months. After a family prayer, we quietly explained to them that Gibson had gone to live with our Heavenly Father and that he was not going to be able to come home from Haiti. Bugs , very perceptive at five, asked :"so he died".
"Yes".

She took a moment to take it in, as a tear welled up in her eyes, she looked up at us, then a smile broke out on her beautiful face. "But Mama, he's gonna resurrect, so we just gotta be patient".

What simple faith, what an amazing lesson taught by a child.

It was hard because there was no casket, no family gathering ....and to many people in our everyday life ...his existence was not tangible to them ....so how can we mourn him?
But as we all ,know a true mothers (parents) heart falls deeply in love the first time you see that photo, or hear the heart beat...
heck I was in love after looking at a stick I peed on (Gross I know) that had two blue lines on it!

Not wanting to celebrate the date of his death...we waited until his birth date, May 12th to celebrate our little angel.


That Saturday morning I made Haitian Pancakes (as close as I could get
them)...we read scriptures and wrote/colored pictures for Gibson.
After planting our tree, we hiked up a grassy hill , read our
letters, tied them to five white balloons and let go.
We then sat down to eat our picnic and a couple of minutes
later...Bugs looked up at me smiled, and said "Mom, I bet he
just got out letters, cool , huh?"
Very cool!

It has been four years since his death. I have absolute faith and knowledge that I will hold my baby again.
I am so grateful for this season.

Have a Beautiful, Relflective, Gratitude Filled Easter....
Because :

"The tomb was empty"

and

"But Mama, he's gonna resurrect, so we just gotta be patient".

I will,I will be patient.

Giving Easter the Bunny

Lets talk about entitlement…and holidays and getting stuck, and being PART of the problem….promise this post will NOT be a novel….at least I hope it won’t cause I still have to go make the Easter Potato Salad for tomorrows Dinner.
Anywho….being Easter and all and *most* of my thoughts turned to Christ and his Atonement…some of my more material girl side have be humming this lil’ ditty in my head….and when I went to youtube watch it I saw this “original version”…and I out loud said…”THAT CUCUMBER IS RADtastic”….so for pooh & giggles, pick. Pick you childs most crazy wanted, most obsessed over, most if you don’t give it to me random item and stick it in place of the bunny. This was perfect for me, I could toss in “cell phone”, “hooker shoes”, a “T.V. in my room”….infact my teen wanted to let me know, that instead of an I.pod touch (that she is sooooo NOT getting) for her birthday she would prefer a motorcycle. Snort


So imagine my 7 littles walking around singing “The Bunny song”…I can hear Cookie in the tub right now turning it into an Opera Aurea. Anyway….the HARD thing about entitlement, is that it gets under our skin, it makes us NOT want to give in, or “give” anything…I have never felt so closed fisted in my life, I LOVE to give gifts….but after my kids got home , my past high of gift giving became a source of contention for me. Some of my kids have no idea what gratitude looks like, what being content with what you have feels like, how NOT to continue to take, even when your arms are full…why BECAUSE they are STILL in survival mode. They are still trying to fill up those empty feelings in their life, and nothing will ever be enough until I can help them patch those holes in their proverbial buckets….as a girl who learned to eat her feelings during their four year adoption process I should know that…but no, I mostly just get irritated when the “I WANTS” come out to play.

It’s Easter weekend, we do it as a weekend. About eight years ago when my babies were really just babies, I wanted the focus of the Resurrection to be on Christ, and so “The Bunny” comes on Saturday morning…we do the Egg hunts, the candy gorging…the material “fun holiday stuff” on Saturday, leaving the importance of the true holiday of Sunday Worship. I LOVED doing it this way…and now with the sabotage tendencies…It works for our now bigger more intensive in the needs department family….

So “The Bunny” showed his Fuzzy Tail this morning, bringing shoes (cause my kids REALLY needed them) that Easter Bunny is a pretty practical guy! Instead of toys for the kids to argue over …he brought individual baggies of carrots and dip, apple slices, whole grain gold fish..and whoppers eggs (so just little chocolate)….also new toothbrushes….with their names already written permanent marker, remind me to kiss him later.

Off the SUBJECT: but you will get to where I am going….I ran into my friend Chavonne and her awesome Hubbie in the JC Penny parking lot with my two older girls today. She has two darling Haitian girls of her own from the same O….I haven’t seen her since August…and like most of us..we run into each other and it is a talk fest…we chatted and shared and laughed and teared and …my poor girls went and sat in the car and listened to the radio for at least an hour. When the conversation turned to attachment, and what we are doing to hinder, the “I don’t wanna’s ” on our parts to do our part of attachment…I felt proud of one example I could give of a success I recently had in my own issues with my daughters entitlement.

The hooker shoes. O.K. , O.K. I will stop calling them that…well maybe.
My beautiful girl, being older and from a different culture, has a COMPLETELY opposite opinion on clothing, beauty and what is attractive. Is is right or wrong? No, and academically I get that. BUT and I mean a BIG FAT BUT…it drives me CRAZY…

Hello my idea of style is “There is a Chuck Taylor for that”….I grew up with brothers, I grew up with hippies and skaters…and NONE of those things = shoes with heels, blue eye, shadow tight clothes, bling and being sexy. (Full body shudder)My idea of accessorizing is Sunglasses on my head..and MAYBE a pair of earrings. Hello prom, I wore a white dress…and puma skate shoes, wedding white dress, white Converse…I didn’t start wearing make-up until age 18..and still wear it only if necessary….and I am a Mother to a DIVA, a couple in fact…God obviously has a great sense of humor.

And so…we are financially deficient as of late, and well, my kids needing shoes…it was the PERFECT gift for our kiddo’s.

7 different coupons in hand, I went shopin’ would you believe, 9 pairs of shoes later $76.34….awwwwww yeah!
While in the store I had some darling flats that I loved, picked out for my teen. They would have been sufficient, she would have “liked them”…and well she needed black church shoes. I KNEW she would not LOVE them like Bugs was going to love her blingy tennis shoes, or shriek with joy like Diva and Chatter would at the light up flip-flops….so I looked for something she might LOVE. I got over myself for a second. I am so strict with her about dressing like a young Lady , and not a Lady of the Night….I forget to meet her in the middle, find the places I can budge and move and try, instead of expecting her to come the whole way. So I went all of the way. I bought black sexy, stiletto heels. UGH. But I did it….

I for once gave her “the bunny”….and she LOVED her Mama for it….can you see the shock, the smile the SURPRISE! …..and that is sometimes IMPORTANT…not letting our constant battle for control blind sight the IMPORTANCE of not ALWAYS making our kids meet us half way, or even come ALL the way…but shocking the pants off of them, when it is in a safe way…and coming all of the way.

….by the way..brand of the shoes….”City Streets”, I’m just sayin’…

Boring-Smoring Mama...and the girl who loves her

Happy "Bunny Day" ya'll!!!

Versitile Blogger Award!

I received this award from the awesome Quacken Mama at Quackenbaby.blogspot.com.
Never had a Blog award, shucks, I was touched. I don't feel like my ramblings do much, other than tell my truth, my struggles and victories. Thank you all that have supported my two month old baby blog!

Ten things about me:

1.Growing up everyone thought I would be a Famous Actress (I did dabble in Film, & TV) …I had a theater scholarship for college. Someday when I have more time I would love to participate again locally.
2.I love photography! LOVE IT, LOVE IT…I can get overwhelmed when I have too many jobs to edit, but feel so blessed I can express emotions through this medium. I am thinking about publishing an essay in Pictures of Haiti and turning it into a Coffee Table Book to benefit Haiti.

3. I am kind a granola. I like using herbs, essential oils, healthy diet, exercise and massage before using drugs, or antibiotics. My kids had never taken antibiotics…that changed once the Haitian crowd got here. We also Home School...LOL...I never thought I would be one of "those Mom's", but I love it! Each day is open to new possibilities, We can go to a museum, do science experiments, have one day totally concentrated on one thing the kids want to learn about...how many third graders do you know speaks pretty fluent Creole, and has traveled to Haiti and feed orphans to cover her Global Awareness standard. LOL. I know most our families think I am crazy..but I really am proud of it.

4. I was diagnosed with Lupus when I was 18. My liver and kidney’s were shutting down while I was going to two separate colleges with different majors and working two jobs as a CNA for an Elderly man with Cerebral palsy and teaching preschool at a Daycare. My Dr. told me I had to go straight home and go to bed for eight months… I had to drop everything, leave school in the middle of semester and jobs, and my friends…Oh and my boyfriend dumped me..It was FREAKING awesome…Oh and my Dr. also told me would probably never be healthy enough to have kids….bring it.

5. I am STUBBORN…like beyond what you would think …which is why, I am drug free (for my Lupus)…have given birth to two kiddos out of my body (which almost killed me TWICE) and so far have seven and counting children born from my heart. Don’t tell me I can’t or shouldn’t do something ….because I will prove you wrong every time. :0)

6. I have been pregnant 11 times and had two live births….so yeah, my kids WERE hard to get here and I DID NOT do it the EASY way!



7. I used to LOVE to cook and be a hostess in my home. We have some pretty sweet parties at our house. I like to cook Thai, Haitian, and pretty much anything. I have been really into making our own bread lately….and lots of VEGGIES!!!

8. I love to read.I read A LOT of Parenting Book, some Historic Novels, Biography’s (just read “Love Eternal” about Mary Todd Lincoln) or up lifting spiritual material….I love the classics and read them over and over again…I almost get in book moods. I also once in a while like mindless fiction for fun..When I really don’t want to think…LOL..I take these books back and forth on Planes during my Haiti trips.



9. I love being out side, I have 48 rose bushes and 100’s of plants at our new house , I wish I had more time for all of it …but I love feeling the sun on my face. I am a summer girl, I love camping, hiking and being at the beach. If I could live anywhere I would love to either have a cottage on the Atlantic Ocean or a Farm house on Acreage.

10. I am so lucky to be married to my husband. He is Stubborn too ….but he is a good balance for me and keeps me in check when I try to take too much on. He is my home project partner and has rocked at learning to do Wainscoting and tile. I love that he still whips out his guitar every night and sings with the kids. I love that he more than supports me with the crazy and jumps on in!


~I need to pass this on to another bloger...so Diana at Gold to Refine at blogspot you have been awarded the Versitile Blogger Award!

I just adore Diana, have chatted with her, gained support from her and love her wise patient words..read her...LOL...sI am sure most of you do anyway! Can't wait to meet her on the Utah Drama Mama's Retreat!!!!

Award winners should copy award, tell everyone ten things about themselves and pass the award on.

Missed the Freaking Ferry

I sooooo missed the theraputic parenting ferry from “Normalville” to “Crazytown” this morning. I don’t even wanna catch the later ferry, I miss Normalville, yet after three rages this morning. I am guessing Normalville just isn’t my cup o’ tea, no matter how much selfishly I want to be there today, normal for a day,selfish for a day, RAD free for a day.

I went swimming this morning at 5:15, finished at 6:30. My 2 older more regulated kiddo’s  go to a Montessori school around 8, my hubbie is in charge of their getting ready, lunches, breakfast and morning devotional…the little “disregulators”, have to wait and do a later breakfast with Mom, cause we were having WAY to many morning sabotage moments, and after 15 tardies, we had to switch things up….they are “supposed” to sleep in, however with the hyper vigilant behaviors hitting la casa lately…not so much.

I have Lupus, it sucks, it is painful and chronic, and *most* of the time I ignore it. I have a trunk load of joint problems, swelling issues and all around yuckiness, no biggie, I have coped since I was 18. I have to exercise for my circulation, cause Raynauds is a VERY real part of the party raging in my body. I walk, run, elliptical, swim/do something everyday…some days I over do …and throw my body into a flare, that can kick my butt, keep me from walking, lifting my arms over my head…keep me from standing with out passing out….so I have to balance, know my bod pay attention to me, and well since I have so much time on my hands..it’s easy! (Note: the sarcasm)

I over did it this morning. Nice that I can get home by 6:30, and have 2 hours to myself, to lay, rest, soak my joints, before “the seven” need fed, clothed and schooled. …every joint had a heart beat, my nose even hurt. I loaded up on some fresh pineapple (a natural anti-inflammatory)…and crawled in bed. I listened as Hubs, got three of em up and going.

I snuggle in fully aware I have 1 hour and 45 minutes to wallow rest, until my day officially started.

Chatter comes in, “Mom do I have school today?” (she knows she does NOT have school)

“What day is is sweetie.?”

“Monday.”

“Do you have school on Monday?”

“No”

“O.K. Well since we were up until 1 putting your extensions in, how bout you go lay back down, until it’s time for you to get up.”

(they have a clock with an alarm, so they know when it is “time” to come down stairs….)

“SNIFFFFF, “K, mom”.

“Love you Chatter”.

I KNOW WHAT IS COMING, I know she is about to go balls out crazy, I know it, and I hurt, and I don’t want to be patient, I don’t want to worry about her crazy needs, I don’t care if she is headed for Melt-Downville (it’s the stop  next to Crazytown).

I hear the door slam and think “Seriously”.

5 precious minutes later, Hubbie leaves and two nano seconds later, the WAILING and KNASHING of teeth start. She waited for Dad to leave, so yours truly could deal with the Drama. If ya have any advice for how I should have delt with her, calmly, lovingly and empathetically, ya’ll can shove it,

 keep it to yourself, remember I DID NOT TAKE THE FREAKING FERRY today.

I walk in, blaze in with eyes of fury.

“WHAT?, what is the problem?”

“Diva say, she going to make a big mess in my room and no clean it up!”, followed by huge dramatic sob and banshee like wail.

“ARE YOU BLEEDING?”

“DID DIVA THROW A BOOK AT YOUR HEAD, BITE YOU, AND THREATEN YOUR LIFE?”

“no”

“…well then I am going to go lay down, and if I hear another peep…we will have to add an hour until we go down for Breakfast, got it?”

(Just in case you are ready to whip out the “Mother of the Year Award out”)….I then slammed the door…..

NOTE: I hope somewhere, behind the tsking of your teeth and the shaking of your head, I am helping some Mama who blew it today feel better.

But ….it got better…(and I am hurting so bad, I just want to crawl in bed and die…..)

At least at  this point, only Diva and Chatter are up…then Cookie (who has been relocated from his prior sleeping arrangement for crimes of humanity)…begs to go sleep in Scoobs now empty bed, “Sure” says I , “just be quite and don’t wake up Dude.”  FAMOUS LAST WORDS…

Cause 3 minutes later ….the loudest, clock radio known to man starts shrieking…Cookie, instead of climbing in bed has let off a sonic BOOM …and awoken , every living thing in my house at 7 :32 a.m.

Babies are up, and I want to cry, pull covers over my head, feed children Benadryl cocktails and put them back to bed (totally semi-kidding on that last one)…

So I wigged, a little A LOT and well was one heck of a crappy pants Mommy…stomped around threw my hands up in the air, yelled and was MAD.....

then I stopped, but on my Big Girl underpants, gave my self a time out…apologized to my kids, made chocolate chip pancakes…and finally got on the freaking ferry. Truth be told…Crazytown , is a heck of a lot better than the Insanityville that Normalville warps into if I don't get on the Stinkn boat.

….and that is how I sometimes totally bite at the Therapeutic Parenting thing.