More celebrating....maybe I'm learning?

This past weekend was a whirl wind.  I celebrated my birthday on Thursday (no I'm not going to say how old I am) and it turned into a 4 day event.  Hey, I'm not complaining.  I ate at some of my favorite (and expensive) restaurants and got to go out without the kids on Friday and Saturday night.  On Sunday I went to see the Lion King with my mom and Goose.  It was altogether a wonderful birthday.  All this time spent away from my kids is both a blessing and a curse.  I never know how Goose will react the next day after I wasn't there to put her to bed.  This weekend she went to bed two nights in a row with out her mommy.  I'm glad to report that she seemed to do really well.  On Sunday morning she woke up in high gear, jumping all around in anticipation about going to see the Lion King with my mom and I.   I wasn't sure how she was going to do but this time I felt more prepared.  This time I set the expectation low and assumed the worse.  On the way to church the baby talk started so I knew the disregulation was in full affect.  I must admit that I did really well.  I remained patient and calm despite my annoyance.  Goose was talking incessantly and would not stop moving.  She kept it together pretty well other then seeming bored and playing with her seat.  Oh yeah, and wanting me to carry her like she was a toddler or infant (which I did.)  On the way home she was pretty quiet, she may have even fallen asleep.  Next was dinner out with my parents.  The baby talk started again and she started to complain that everything hurt.  I already began planning what would happen when we got home.  Usually we would get them right into the bath/shower and begin the bedtime routine.  I knew this wasn't going to work for Goose so I decided that as soon as we got home I would take her up to her room to read and just relax together.  She often expresses the need for "mommy time" so I guessed that she really needed me to help her regulate again.  During dinner she did choose to come sit on my lap, wanting me to hold her and love on her.  I was glad to do it.  I'm so happy that instead of acting naughty she is willing to come to me and let me help her calm.  At the same time it's disturbing that my almost seven year old acts younger then my two and a half year old sometimes.  Her emotional age can sometimes revert back to infancy.  When we got home, Jeremy took care of the boys and I took Goose to her room.  She happily picked out books and she and I sat on her bed looking at her books until I felt she was ready to take her shower.  I can't believe it but it worked.  After about a half hour she was ready to take her shower and then even asked to read to her dad (that never happens.)  She went to bed without a fight, no melt down, no crying, no screaming.  Two very happy parents.

Celebrating the small stuff

At my adoption support group we talked about celebrating the small victories with our kids.  I'm usually too hard on myself and at times too hard on my daughter and our situation.  I never take the time to celebrate the "small stuff."  We have been having daily struggles, sometimes they are manageable sometimes they get out of control, but two nights ago we had a victory.  After the kids bathe in the evening we usually read books.  Most of the time they are read to in their room by either me or my husband.  But on this occasion he was leaving for a meeting at church so I was in charge of bedtime.  I decided to read to the kids downstairs and so I asked them each to choose some books and meet me on the couch.  This seems like a reasonable request...... but not at our house, not with our kid.  Bubba shows up right away with his four books, but no Goose.  So I ask Bubba where she is and he informs me that she isn't coming.  I then seek her out to find out what's up.  It turns out she needs my help choosing books.  This is where the fun begins, when my decision to climb the stairs for the 100th time that day has a much greater impact then one would think.  I also consider the fact that Bubba is sitting there waiting for me to read and even if I go help Goose choose her books it could turn ugly, there are never any guaranties.   So this time I tell her she can choose her books on her own and I return to read to Bubba.  Moments later Goose enters the room crying, it has turned ugly.  I asked her what the problem was and this was her response: "you don't love me or care about me at all because you won't help me choose books."  Aha the sweet sound of victory! She was able to tell me how she was feeling!  Instead of just screaming and growling and altogether acting like a wild animal, she used her words.  For Goose my love for her is always in question.  My heart aches for my precious daughter who truly questions her worth.  We have our work cut out for us, in the mean time I'm going to celebrate this victory.

Disregulation

This is a word I have come to know on a daily basis.  It's a buzz word of sorts in the "attachment" community,  a common occurrence for children who have experienced trauma or neglect.  My child is often disregulated.  The signs have become easy to recognize, jumping instead of walking, baby talk, asking constant questions, and my favorite, repeatedly calling me "mama" in the whiniest voice she can muster.  The list goes on.  When she becomes disregulated it's my job to help her regulate again.  This isn't something she can do on her own yet, she needs me there to help her through.  During many of her disregulated states she will go into a rage for no apparent reason (although I'm suppose to know what set her off.)  Again it's my job to help her calm and let her know that she is safe and loved.  This cycle has become  her life, our life.  The hardest part for me is staying regulated myself.  After weeks of many ups and downs in my daughter's "mood"  I start to unravel.  But how am I going to help her regulate if I'm not regulated? And then the guilt sets in.  When she needs me the most I'm not "there" for her.   This past week I have been feeling very dis regulated.  I want so much to be the mom she needs me to be all of the time, not just some of the time.  My child really does have issues with feeling worthy enough of love.  I see that now and it breaks my heart.  When I become disregulated I'm distant and irritable which for her just solidifies the internal belief that she isn't worthy of my love.  Talk about feeling like a bad mom.  I pray that over time she will come to believe that she is worthy of love.  I know it will take time, maybe years of consistent parenting before it all starts to sink in.  My greatest fear is that it won't sink in. The road to becoming a mommy was filled with such joy for me but the road to becoming my daughter started out so sad for her.   Two different roads winding through this life, one day I hope our roads will meet.