Game Changer

Definition of GAME CHANGER

: a newly introduced element or factor that changes an existing situation or activity in a significant way.

I have this incredible friend named Christine that taught me about this, in the way she leads her life, problem solves and reaches into the depth of herself so bravely and deeply it too pushes me forward. In many ways, finding her has been my Game Changer. I love her so, trust her deeply and learn everyday more about how the way we react impacts our experience, just by this gift of friendship she offers me.

When I was eight I tried playing UNO with my colorblind cousin.
It was me my brothers and two other cousins.
We were at the family cabin, and our games of war, Indian & cowboys ,bear hunts and trying to make chipmunk traps and become famous chipmunk trainers had been thwarted by the rain.

There we sat, our play options an incomplete Chinese checkers game, Uno, or sit there, watching the rain indefinitely. Uno it was.

Have you ever tried to play a Color matching game with a colorblind person?
Yeah. After 3 rounds of correcting him, and him offering to quit, and us wanting to include him, things were not going well. There were tears and name calling.

I game paused said we were going to do a redo...and grabbed all of the cards.
As the boys all shouted, complained and said “See we should have never let a stupid girl play.”

I snuck into my Grandma's purse and found a black marker in her checkbook,hid in the bathroom and sitting on the floor useing the toilet lid as a desk wrote
on each cards corner, I wrote R for red, G for Green, B for Blue and Y for Yellow.
My brother caught me mid stack, probably coming into pee, and sucked in his breath “ Youuuuu are sooooo not supposed to mark cards...that is AGAINST the rules, I am going to TELLLLLLL!!!”

In all my 8 year old maturity, I think I told him to “Bite me, this way we can all play.”
Pushed him out of the bathroom and finished my stack.

And we play we did, for hours.
Later Sam came to me and told me how much it meant to him that we didn't give up on letting him play, finding a way and changing the rules so he didn't miss out.
His experience of the game was different, because of his handicap, but still he was able to play with our adaptation, and the experience was great for everyone involved.
In truth we totally stole Grandma's entire box of double stuff Oreo's and ate them giggling and playing under the stairs.

Sometimes you have to be a Game Changer.

If something isn't working for you, for your kids, what is the point in the forcing, in the keeping the rules, or the way you do things inside the box if it is not helping and creating growth?

I so often speak to parents STRESSING, WORRIED, in DENIAL or DEPRESSION over what their kids are struggling with.

“We can't do homework, it ends in fights, and tantrums and ruins every night...I HATE This time with my kid.”
~Then DON”T DO HOMEWORK. Write the school, talk to the teacher, find other ways of experiencing knowledge, math by baking cookies, shopping, science by watching a documentary with pop corn. Be near your child and learn with them. That is the goal right education? Do that.

“I have read ALL of the books, been to therapy and conferences, no matter what I try NOTHING is getting through to my kid.”
~ Sounds like tooo many rules and techniques. Pick one thing at a time you think 'might' be effective, try that, and add on...Games with too many rules are not FUN, and STRESS people out. You are already NOT having fun...try adding FUN and that one thing you think might help, or even better taking one thing away, like yelling and adding more Music, and Fun, if not for your kid, for you.

(this one I heard at a conference, and the answer is not mine, but brilliant and helped me re-frame some fears and worries)
“My kid has all of these resources for school an college but anxiety wise and academically they don't do well in a classroom.”
~ Then even though it is free, it is not for them. Opportunities are only opportunities if they can be taken. A blind kid can be given a billion beautiful books, but unless they are written in brail, can he use them for anything but a coaster?
How often in adult like situation, unless we are educators or perpetual students do we live or operate in a classroom setting, this inability will not equal life long failure. Breathe.



“I don't like my life anymore, everything is negative and HARD, and not what I would expect raising a special needs kid, I don't fit in anymore anywhere.”

~ Here's your chance your kid has broken you out of that box, take it as an opportunity to BE WEIRD.
Do and find things that you love that are NOT Mainstream, take a belly dancing class, wear fun colors that make you happy, delve deeper into things that make you happy, because if your kid can't be happy, damn it, take care of yourself and see where that lands both of you. Find your tribe of people that will get you, walk with you and support you, I guarantee you will come out better and stronger and more supported because of it, even though it is hard and SUCKS.~


Rules are there to keep things mainstream, and THAT IS GREAT.

BUT, is it O.K. To Game change a little, deviate from the rule book in order to create a better outcome?
Abso-freaking-lutley.

As a former rule follower to the inth degree of the wording, a believer in “You live your life a certain way and life will be easier and good things will happen” I have learned that is not always the case.
I have learned this the HARD, lonely, painful way, and I have changed things up.

In taking the knocks while writing permanent marker on cards, spray painting perfectly good walls with affirmations, dying my hair bright happy red, dancing to music turned WAYYY up in the Walmart parking lot with my kids, vetoing homework, recognizing what is going to work and what isn't and admitting it and changing due course,I have learned life is better,more rich and healthier for me and my family . Life can be hard, it also can be a game, you choose how you keep the rules, how you take care of your pieces and most of all how to enjoy, play and have fun despite the handi-caps.

Be a Game Changer for yourself, your kids, accept, pull another card and move on, it will be so much more fun than being that kid with your nose stuck in the rule book.


To that kid I say:

                                        “Bite me, this way we can all play.”

Hard isn't BAD, it is just HARD

Since moving; writing, sitting down, finding time, and that time me wanting to flip on the computer and type has been close to impossible.
Oy the pictures I have to download.

New house,unpacking, realizing I didn't downsize enough, getting a garden in late an Orchard, assimilating 8 children into a new home comes with a lot of time spent simply surviving.

We are seeing such a dance of things,healing, hope and new behaviors that freak me the crap out.

Like sand through an hour Glass..... THESE ARE THE DAYS OF OUR LIVES.

Introducing our family with it's wack-a-do dynamics makes it “interesting” while trying to assimilate our kids socially into new neighbors;

~“Ignore the little girl raging and hiding in the ditch, she'll come out soon, oh and here are some new cookies, nice to meet you.”~

We y'am what we y'am.

My husband within his new job( he is a Clinician with a MSWLC) in being referred children and families coping with attachment issues and trauma.

It has been interesting to see once again the lack of resources available to families.
The desperation, depression and helplessness that so many parents walk into his office with.

So many of us are not alone.

There are many many tools we are digging back out of the closet.
“Yay me” is used daily.

“Even though I stole a candy bar, and chose to have my desert early, and am not having ice cream with the family, I still get to stay up and play, “YAY ME.”

We also are working hard outside daily.
My severe ADHD lil guy the other day came in after running around all morning and declared, “Mama there is SOMETHING WRONG with my eyes, the are itchy and won't stay open.”

“Buddy, that is called “being tired”.

I love summer.
I love the excuse to be outside from sun up to sun down.
I love the real laughter I get to hear when my children can check their anxiety and trauma at the door and just.be.children.

There are moments I see this for them.
Moments I close my eyes and listen to them work and play together.

Moments when I see the three years of slow progress and patients for all of us is molding us into a family.

There are still moments of control and fear winning the battle that day, moments where I let my fear of their future over ride the progress we have found.

Truth be told, if in those moments I can embrace that fear, and honestly recognize it is not about making or morphing my children into perfect individuals but helping them find their healthiest way of coping, because we all need a safe way to place our stress on something, I can keep on walking with them, not chasing after them, or wanting to run away, but walking with them.

This whole parenting a combined family is not what I thought it would be.
Even on a good day.

It is way harder. It is way more lonely. It hurts, pushes me to limits I didn't know I had. Makes me fear for the future, and all around wears me out, even on the good days.

What I can promise is the good days get more and more prevalent, but the hard days will always be there, and you have to make friends with both, they both need to be welcome, they both are part of the process.

One of my favorite quotes I think of on particularly HARD days.

Hard isn't BAD, it is just HARD.

And there you have it.

The truth about line drying your laundry and therapeutic parenting.

Proof that I have moved into the country and am slowly morphing into the self-reliant/farm girl/ hippie/organic farmer of my dreams.

The user tabs in my computer open are all about wind turbines, organic fruit tree spray and a shopping window for essential oil.

 “You can call me Granola if you want to.”

so , in between monitoring my kids manual labor of removing rototill-ed-up- grass where my new flower bed is going to be, and messing around on the internet, doing important research.

 My washer beeped.

Time to put the laundry out on the line.

There at first was a novelty to it.

Now sometimes it is a pain in the butooski.
Sometimes I don’t want to STOP what I am doing and take the TIME.

When it is warm, and the birds are chirping, it is peaceful and rewarding to be out there, barefoot grass between my toes, sun on my face, I feel like I should have a back ground sound track for some laundry soap commercial.

But I live in Idaho.

When it is cold, or blowing wind too hard for things to stay pinned, or even better raining, then I want to stomp and swear and ask Trev to build the vent thingy for my dryer. Then I want it fast and easy and use less of my energy. I am tired, I have other things I would rather be doing.
I want to hurry the crap up and get it over with, move on, do it the conventional way.

When the air is sweet my laundry smells AMAZING.
When the cow dung smell is blowing fierce, not so AMAZING.

But there is some truths in the line drying.
It may take more energy at first, but things dry faster, and better, with the initial time taken.
If I am honest, even when I don’t feel like it or want to, when I am done, there is a feeling of accomplishment.

The extra time and effort gives me time to think and process.

So that is all I have to say about therapeutic parenting.

Flatlined

You know when you watch those hospital based T.V shows, and the heart monitor stops making groovy triangled lines and the intermittent beeping changes to a long annoying whine of a straight never ending “beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep” as the triangles stop and turn into a straight line?
And then the panic sets in?

Flatlined.
That. That is how I have been feeling about one of my children.


We are in the throughs of moving.
We are stuck in the start/stop, hurry up/and wait part of it all. And it sucks. A lot.

And I have been really angry and sad and mad, and heart broken with one of my children.
I have struggled letting a choice they have made go, and I deep down know it is affecting my day to day interaction with them. Maybe not on the surface, but deep down where the good stuff is? My heart is flat lining toward this kid. I don't want it to feel like that.
But I am human, and trust and things held most important can only be broken so many times before wear and tear of emotion is inevitable.

So it's four in the mourning and I just finished rocking and feeding baby Faith's little sister, and now can't get back to sleep.
As I lay, contemplating/praying meditating on things I have no time in the daylight to ponder. This one thing that is eating me up/flat-lining my heart comes up.

I am asking myself “HOW, how are you going to trust/feel better about this kid, that needs you, and obviously needs to get better and change their behavior, how is this going to work?”
and I dive into that big empty ache, that is filled with fear... and I swim around in it a little bit, telling myself I know the answer, but I stubbornly and understandably don't want to do it.

The answer is whispered to me, in the sleeping breath of my three year old laying next to me....

“ How can they get better if they can't forgive themselves. How can they forgive themselves and move on, if you won't.”

Well shit.

There it is.
And I don't know if I can.

But there lies the truth. Forgiving is never ever Forgetting....especially when safety is involved.
And yet there it lies in my palm like a sleeping bird.

They can't let go and move on, if I can't.
I know this because I only move forward in my life once I have forgiven myself for stupid choices and actions that have hurt myself and others, and I am an adult.

For a kid, they need a map in the grand forgiveness of themselves, shame is too much of a roadblock. I, I too have been guilty in using it towards them, I too have been blocking them from progress , because I want feel and know they are sorry enough. And that is my stuff, not theirs. Their shame is so deep, this kid is sorry for 90% of the breaths they take, and they might not even know that, but there it is eating them up all the same.

But what if, what if I can get over myself for one minute?

What if they can learn this one thing, to forgive themselves and move on, that, right there is a tool most adults never master....and what if we all could, what would the world look like?

So damn-it.
Looks like it's going to have to start with me.
And I am far far far away from wanting to. Really if I am being honest with how I feel.

I.don't.want. to. The flat lining feels numb and oddly easier than opening up the wound and scraping out the infection...but if I can do this for them and in turn they learn to do it for themselves and others?
Forgiveness of oneself , well that is the root of the root.
And where the beginning of self healing starts..........

Beep.beep.beep.beep.beep.beep.
<3

Walking on Hot Lava

I love this image.
I my head this is me.
In my heart, this is so many of us.

For two days I have been stuck in confines of my home, in my bedroom, on my bed with a puking toddler, 7 year old, 9 year old ...and you know the "other ones", that fortunately were not projectile vomiting, but unfortunately for me, healthy enough to be bored.

Toddler's with the flu are not ticking time bombs...hell no, those give warnings and count downs. Toddlers with the flu more like unexploded detonated grenades...you never know when, or how ..but you know it is coming, and the likelihood of it being messy is inevitable.

As I sat there with her.
Most the time offering clean towels, clear liquids, comfort, fresh pajamas. Anytime I had to retrieve more supplies, remove soiled items, parent other children, go pee...there was a fear that she would throw up while I was absent, and I wouldn't be able to direct, help or contain the mess.

I had time to think between the laundry loads.....

This is my life, this constant juggle, one crisis always requiring my attention while attending to everything  and everyone else.

I am always playing hot lava.

Did you ever play that game as a kid? One rule, do not touch the floor, for that is the Hot Lava.
My brothers and I would go in their room and play a precarious game of tag crawling, jumping and climbing over all the furniture in their room, but not allowed to touch the floor...we would jump, bunk bed to dresser to chair to scaling the window sill. How nothing was broken is a mystery.
Once the game was over the steaming red hot burning, waiting to consume us LAVA turned back into shag carpet....we jumped down into the middle of the room, and we walked out.

That has been me for three years. Balancing, straddling the window sill and the dresser, except I have become so used to the floor not being safe beneath me, I stopped looking down, trusting it, or remembering I had the say when the floor gets to turn back to something I can safely stand on.

I have the say.
In some things and in some ways, we all have that say.

Things have been hard for so long...and continue to throw me for loops...but there are things I am reclaiming as I look around and see what I am missing, what was once important to me and I want to pick back up, and those things that don't hold the same value to me.

I love this image, because she is not only rising from the ashes. She is dancing on the hot lava.
Dancing.

Last night between Insomnia and re-evaluating I picked something up I dropped three years ago, my family diary/blog/journal.
Like me it looks different now.

I will remain here with my personal and parenting trials and successes...but the other parts of me, the better and worse parts I don't share on this very public blog.
The boring shmoring stuff, like kids having the flu, and pictures of birthday parties and trips to the library park and dentist, art projects and skinned knees...things I wished I had written down.
I am starting to write down again.

Bam.
and then in a small brave way, she turned that Lava back into shag carpet, and is dancing on it...

So I was going to write a whole post...

About Parenting in SPACE...the Conference in Chicago I go to every year...that helps me you know, not to lose my shit on my kids as much....PARENT my kids from hard places ....and generally try NOT to screw them up anymore than they already have been and learn new amazing ways to find healing, together.

I would write about how I went last year, and the year before that...and how much I LOVED it.

I was going to reference all of the blogs I have written that were examples of tools I picked up while hanging with the House Calls Parenting staff.

How I helped my daughter coping with separation anxiety USING, S.P.A.C.E. Stuff.

How sometime NOT talking about an issue (while talking about it) is one of my favorite tools while dealing with an issue.

Or how Billy Kaplan taught me about using CURIOSITY saves my butt on days the lying gets out of control !!!

Or throwing a “maybe” at it.

I would talk about the infinite LOVE I have for JIM KLING and how hos repair model has helped so much in the repairs my children are learning to do.

I was most definitely going to post a video of me chatting with Christine Moers ABOUT going to SPACE and what it has done for us, and the incredible friendship we have developed.

Most of all, If I was going to write said post....I most definitely would mention these points:

1. My first time I came, I went on the tail end of a credit card, totally broke in every way...and still know it was the best money I have spent on my family.

2. I have never been surrounded by more therapists that GET me and my kids than at SPACE.

3. If you are reading this....and think, my kid is really hard for me...BUT, NOT as messed up as some of the kids I read about....you, need this.

4. your tank is empty. Just come. I promise...we are all sputtering in.

5. Parenting our children is hard, every.single.day.even just neuro-typical kids...but parenting children from early childhood trauma, ADHD, autistic spectrum, Fetal alcohol or drug related affects, can deplete us much, much faster...we may have read ALL of the books,and blogs, own all of the tapes...but coming to a conference,interacting, refreshing our skills, is necessary in the survival of our families, in the survival of ourselves.

So...you know...if I was going to write that post...I would kinda, sorta say all of those things. <3

N.A.R.D.S.

N.A.R.D.S.
(and I Sooooooo get this is a made up term that I use to cope; so dear, dear,dearest troll that likes to knock me and my parenting...have.at.it.)
I so just prescribed rude comments...check me out!  :D

I am going to share a term we like to use when coping with Narcissistic behavior from my attachment challenged children.
You see one of my children really struggles with this aspect of his Attachment and all around well being...the kid is a full on Narcissist. When children live in a survival state, the only things or people they need to worry about is Me, Myself and I..how the world operates is only viewed directly on the soul factor of how it affects them. PERIOD.

N.A.R.D.S.
Narcissistic Attachment Reactive Disorder Symtoms
HA! And the 9 year old girl in me thinks this is hilarious....lets kick him right in the NARDS!

But parenting the NARD ridden child.so.not.fun. (again so know this is a made up term...)

My son struggles with a 'Whoa is Me, everyone is so MEAN to ME, I am so sad, all of the TIME, nothing works out for ME, I never get what I want, life is so so hard for ME, Everyone else has it easy except ME.”

Nothing is a direct consequence for him, everything is something that is being DONE to HIM....even after we process it for the gazillionth time....

Him punching his brother= sit and think time= doing his brothers chore = me being MEAN to HIM.
(feel free to insert this equation in every.single.situation.possible)

Today it was over a ball, he had given to his brother, for his brother's birthday, of which he felt he had ownership rights over....so a tantrum, wailing “whoa is me”, crying Oscar worthy performance ensued.

I first swore in my head ,then calmly knelt down by him and asked him “who's ball is it buddy?”

“My brothers, but “I” gave it to him, so “I' should get to play with it whenever “I” want.”

“yeah, no, it's your brothers, if he wants to share HIS toy, regardless of WHO gave it to HIM...it is up to HIM”

and then it came....

“Why is everyone so MEAN to me, I NEVER get what I want, you love everyone more than you love ME, “I” am always in trouble..”I” don't love any of you...I hate everyone...”

..and maybe he should go eat worms.....( I need a banjo)
(just kidding...but it is totally O.K. That I am singing this in my head...)

So we had a sit down/come to Jesus meeting...another one...it's a weekly meeting, but this one had pictures. :)

and so I drew this lovely diagram...no worries I am full on aware of my artistic abilities... I have to use symbols when am trying to apply concrete processing with my children. Especially when dealing with learning disabilities...

What this is saying...is; What the “Family side” is always and, no matter what giving him...
love

home

food

toys

bed

playing with him

blankest

we go out and have fun

we share with him...
and that no matter HOW MUCH STUFF, LOVE, THINGS we share and give to him..he holds on to it and wants and thinks he deserves more....it.is.never.enough.
He hoards his things, won't share...will wear and play with all of his brothers things, but he won't use, (or let anyone else) use his things...
and so I started with a happy face in the upper left corner, because these things and this behavior makes him think ultimately it will make him “happy”.

“But does it baby?”

“No, I just want more, and then I get more, and I am happy for a second, but then I want what everyone else has too, so then I am mad and sad.”

...and let's put that song on repeat....

“Soooooo , is that working for you...all of this taking and wanting and never giving, is it making you happy, and loving, or even liked...which is what you want most from your siblings?”

“Well if they weren't mean to ME....”
I stopped that before we got the pity party rollin'....

“What I am asking without focusing on anyone else...is ; Is what YOU are doing, holding onto, not sharing, not giving love, or kindness, let alone letting anyone touch anything that is yours...and always wanting more....is.that.working.for.you.

“NO”....sob......

“So what if we didn't even start with your toys or food, but tried with feelings...and sharing and giving and loving in small ways...remember on Christmas when you couldn't wait to watch your brothers and sisters open the drawings you drew for them?”

“Yes, I wanted them to like them.”

“and when they did, how did that make you feel?”

“Good, Important, that I did a good thing.”

“and you did, buddy THAT IS GIVING, that is the good feeling I am talking about when I am saying working on giving love, sharing, and being kind, and how that might make YOU feel.

What do you think about that?”

“I think I am going to get mad and forget.”

“Maybe you will..but maybe we could hang this beside your bed and you can work on remembering what might make YOU feel better, what really might make YOU more happy.”

“O.K. Mom I will try”

“That is all I am asking buddy.”