I was smart enough to enjoy the fact that we had a drama free weekend. A blessing of TKs is they remind you to not take things for granted.
We had a close call today, but TK held it together. We went to see "Home" at the movies. The theater showed popcorn bags that had the characters from Home on them, but they didn't actually have any. I had told TK we would get one for her. This seemingly minor thing totally threw her for a loop. As she stomped into the theater and grabbed a seat, she said, "I don't even want to see this stupid movie anymore anyway." Then she put the popcorn down in the seat next to her so I couldn't sit there. I managed to stay in my regulated/smart trauma mama mode and quietly sat in the seat next the popcorn. About halfway through the movie, she moved the popcorn and sat next to me and put her head on my shoulder.
When we were getting ready for bed, I told her how grateful I was for a nice weekend with no drama. She said, "Mom, I hate it when we yell but sometimes I just have to." I didn't say anything....because really there was nothing to say.
I love those moments when I as wise enough to see and celebrate the progress. It probably sounds minor to anyone who doesn't live with a TK. But celebrating minor victories is the key to getting to major ones. So I will celebrate that TK managed to keep herself regulated amidst disappointment and anger. And I will celebrate my ability to stay regulated and not engage in the madness. I already know my response to her dysregulation is a tremendous driver in how things play out, so I celebrate when I am able to stay where I need to be - firmly rooted in love and compassion (or at least not engaging in arguing and devolving into a partner in the dysregulation).
So for this weekend, the roller coaster smoothed out. I'm sure it will yet again send us screaming through its heights and twists, but I'm enjoying the moment to catch my breath.
Grab some grace in those small victories, trauma mamas. Any victory, no matter how small, is a tribute to your faithfulness and commitment to your TK. And that is definitely worth celebrating.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Friday, March 27, 2015
Well THAT was short lived
Sigh......imagine that lasting about 7 seconds and you're getting close. I know the healing journey is not a straight line....not for our kids, and not for us. I think Mary Chapin Carpenter hit it on the head when she said, "Some days you're the windshield, some days you're the bug. Some days you're the Louisville slugger, some days you're the ball." I have to admit being the ball pretty much stinks. (okay, I admit I edited my first comment and downgraded it to stinks....you get the gist).
You may remember I said TK had returned to a loving, affectionate, kind, temper tantrum free kid. Boy it was nice while that lasted.
I don't know what flipped, but something did. We are back to surly, disrespectful, flash temper, utterly unpredictable girl. And I must say I did NOT miss that version of TK and am not excited about having her back. I wish I could give her a permanent eviction notice, but I know I can't.
I also I wish I knew what the heck happened to flip things. The truth is I may never know. We may just have to weather this leg of the journey and hope the next leg is smoother and comes quickly. I managed to listen with my heart on Wednesday; today I wasn't in that place of compassion. I am mentally and emotionally drained. The good news is I had forgotten how exhausting it was to walk on eggshells, knowing the mood will change quickly and without warning. Some of this may be tweendom (heaven help me if it's the next phase of the girl journey), but it doesn't really matter the cause. The end result is the same- turmoil for both of us. I am struggling to stay in a place of compassion, but the weird truth is it is harder to do that since we had a good spell. You would think it would be hard to stay there when it's a constant requirement, but I saw the other side and I liked it, and I resent being back here. So I am struggling to squash that resentment and the voice in my head that says, "She managed to be be fine before, why can't she do it now?" My brain knows it is not that easy. TK doesn't even know why it is so hard right now.
So I will probably do a lot of sighing, probably way too much walking away (because I am trying not to yell, but walking away is a rejection, so it's not a great option either. But I think it's better than yelling.), a lot of praying and a fair amount of crying. And I will seek the grace to grab the sweet moments in the chaos - for they are there, I just have to remember to savor them.
Send my some grace for this leg of the journey, Trauma Mamas. I'll keep trying to hold onto the sweet moments and wait for my sweet TK to return. I know persistent, unwavering, unconditional love will unearth her again.
You may remember I said TK had returned to a loving, affectionate, kind, temper tantrum free kid. Boy it was nice while that lasted.
I don't know what flipped, but something did. We are back to surly, disrespectful, flash temper, utterly unpredictable girl. And I must say I did NOT miss that version of TK and am not excited about having her back. I wish I could give her a permanent eviction notice, but I know I can't.
I also I wish I knew what the heck happened to flip things. The truth is I may never know. We may just have to weather this leg of the journey and hope the next leg is smoother and comes quickly. I managed to listen with my heart on Wednesday; today I wasn't in that place of compassion. I am mentally and emotionally drained. The good news is I had forgotten how exhausting it was to walk on eggshells, knowing the mood will change quickly and without warning. Some of this may be tweendom (heaven help me if it's the next phase of the girl journey), but it doesn't really matter the cause. The end result is the same- turmoil for both of us. I am struggling to stay in a place of compassion, but the weird truth is it is harder to do that since we had a good spell. You would think it would be hard to stay there when it's a constant requirement, but I saw the other side and I liked it, and I resent being back here. So I am struggling to squash that resentment and the voice in my head that says, "She managed to be be fine before, why can't she do it now?" My brain knows it is not that easy. TK doesn't even know why it is so hard right now.
So I will probably do a lot of sighing, probably way too much walking away (because I am trying not to yell, but walking away is a rejection, so it's not a great option either. But I think it's better than yelling.), a lot of praying and a fair amount of crying. And I will seek the grace to grab the sweet moments in the chaos - for they are there, I just have to remember to savor them.
Send my some grace for this leg of the journey, Trauma Mamas. I'll keep trying to hold onto the sweet moments and wait for my sweet TK to return. I know persistent, unwavering, unconditional love will unearth her again.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
The Conversation Behind the Words
TK has had a hard time letting me leave from school the last few days, and hasn't wanted to go. This is not unusual, but the intensity of it is increasing, and I have been struggling to get to the root cause.
Today after school TK started an argument about something we bought. It was a ridiculous argument about when we bought it. She has been trying to start arguments multiple times every day, which is not normal. I refused to engage, and that infuriated her. She kept yelling, "Why won't you just scream at me?" She has also been saying she wants to do random acts of meanness. (We did random acts of kindness for my birthday last week).
After I walked away from the argument and breathed a little, I went back and said, "It seems like you don't think I love you unless I scream at you. I don't understand that. Can you help me understand why you feel that way? Because no matter how much I scream at you, it's never going to change how much I love you, and it's never going to make me leave you." She just kept saying she didn't know, but she needed to be mean. I just kept listening - with my heart, not my ears. The conversation finally bloomed:
TK: When I asked the teacher a question, she told me she was working with E on math and I didn't matter. Well, she really said nothing else mattered, but I'm part of nothing else.
Me: Your heart heard that you don't matter. That must have really hurt. I'm so sorry your teacher chose words that were hurtful.
TK: She shouldn't have said that. It made me feel like nothing.
Me: And when you're mean you feel like something. It makes you feel not invisible.
TK: Yeah.
Me: So when you're mean you matter.
TK: Yeah.
Me: You know when I was young I felt like I didn't matter.
TK: What did you do?
Me: I tried to be perfect. I never got into trouble, I always got good grades. I thought if I was good enough I would matter.
TK: So what happened?
Me: It never worked. The only thing that made me matter was me just believing I DID matter, no matter what I did. I matter just because I do, because God made me and He thinks I matter.
TK: I don't know how to do that.
Me: Then we'll work on that.
TK: I don't like my new school sometimes.
Me: (trying not to respond to the fear that immediately screams into my head - Oh no, I'm going to have to homeschool her. We'll never survive!) We need to talk to your teacher about how she says things. She has had most of the kids for years, so she figures they know what she means. But you haven't been there that long, so we need to help her communicate with you in a way that works better for you.
TK: I'm scared to do that. I don't know her that well yet. What if she gets mad?
Me: I don't think she will, but I'll talk to her. She wants you to feel safe and happy. Remember how every year we have to teach your teachers what works for you? You haven't been at the school that long, and we haven't really had the conversation with your teacher yet.
TK: Can we go jump on the trampoline now?
Me: Yep.
So now is the really hard part. I really can't fix this, and that's a challenge. Sometimes all you can do is listen and love, and wait for the growth that will get your TK through the current challenge. As a mama, that hurts. As a trauma mama, it is a given that you will have to do this many many times. We cannot solve our TK's problems. All we can do is give them the tools to use and the unconditional love that hopefully gives them the strength and courage to try.
I'm trying not to freak out. Every time TK says she doesn't like her new school or she misses her old school (which happens when she hears they did something fun like roller skating), I panic. I so desperately want this school drama to be over. It is exhausting and feels like it has been going on forever. I remind myself that "I don't like something" equals "I'm uncomfortable/I'm scared". But honestly it still scares me.
I'm giving myself kudos for finding the grace to listen with my heart tonight. It has been a while since I've been able to do that. Hopefully I'll get some grace from the teacher - she has great intentions, but is not versed in trauma and that can be a challenge.
Give yourselves some grace for rising to the challenge - even when you don't rise very far. ESPECIALLY when you don't rise very far. This is tough stuff, and it's a marathon, so you will stumble sometimes and need to sit on the sidelines. But trauma mamas always come back and keep running.
Today after school TK started an argument about something we bought. It was a ridiculous argument about when we bought it. She has been trying to start arguments multiple times every day, which is not normal. I refused to engage, and that infuriated her. She kept yelling, "Why won't you just scream at me?" She has also been saying she wants to do random acts of meanness. (We did random acts of kindness for my birthday last week).
After I walked away from the argument and breathed a little, I went back and said, "It seems like you don't think I love you unless I scream at you. I don't understand that. Can you help me understand why you feel that way? Because no matter how much I scream at you, it's never going to change how much I love you, and it's never going to make me leave you." She just kept saying she didn't know, but she needed to be mean. I just kept listening - with my heart, not my ears. The conversation finally bloomed:
TK: When I asked the teacher a question, she told me she was working with E on math and I didn't matter. Well, she really said nothing else mattered, but I'm part of nothing else.
Me: Your heart heard that you don't matter. That must have really hurt. I'm so sorry your teacher chose words that were hurtful.
TK: She shouldn't have said that. It made me feel like nothing.
Me: And when you're mean you feel like something. It makes you feel not invisible.
TK: Yeah.
Me: So when you're mean you matter.
TK: Yeah.
Me: You know when I was young I felt like I didn't matter.
TK: What did you do?
Me: I tried to be perfect. I never got into trouble, I always got good grades. I thought if I was good enough I would matter.
TK: So what happened?
Me: It never worked. The only thing that made me matter was me just believing I DID matter, no matter what I did. I matter just because I do, because God made me and He thinks I matter.
TK: I don't know how to do that.
Me: Then we'll work on that.
TK: I don't like my new school sometimes.
Me: (trying not to respond to the fear that immediately screams into my head - Oh no, I'm going to have to homeschool her. We'll never survive!) We need to talk to your teacher about how she says things. She has had most of the kids for years, so she figures they know what she means. But you haven't been there that long, so we need to help her communicate with you in a way that works better for you.
TK: I'm scared to do that. I don't know her that well yet. What if she gets mad?
Me: I don't think she will, but I'll talk to her. She wants you to feel safe and happy. Remember how every year we have to teach your teachers what works for you? You haven't been at the school that long, and we haven't really had the conversation with your teacher yet.
TK: Can we go jump on the trampoline now?
Me: Yep.
So now is the really hard part. I really can't fix this, and that's a challenge. Sometimes all you can do is listen and love, and wait for the growth that will get your TK through the current challenge. As a mama, that hurts. As a trauma mama, it is a given that you will have to do this many many times. We cannot solve our TK's problems. All we can do is give them the tools to use and the unconditional love that hopefully gives them the strength and courage to try.
I'm trying not to freak out. Every time TK says she doesn't like her new school or she misses her old school (which happens when she hears they did something fun like roller skating), I panic. I so desperately want this school drama to be over. It is exhausting and feels like it has been going on forever. I remind myself that "I don't like something" equals "I'm uncomfortable/I'm scared". But honestly it still scares me.
I'm giving myself kudos for finding the grace to listen with my heart tonight. It has been a while since I've been able to do that. Hopefully I'll get some grace from the teacher - she has great intentions, but is not versed in trauma and that can be a challenge.
Give yourselves some grace for rising to the challenge - even when you don't rise very far. ESPECIALLY when you don't rise very far. This is tough stuff, and it's a marathon, so you will stumble sometimes and need to sit on the sidelines. But trauma mamas always come back and keep running.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Down the Rabbit Hole
It has been an exceptionally challenging few weeks here. Generally, the new school has been good, and on the whole TK is less stressed, more outwardly loving, more relaxed. So it seems an oxymoron that we are regularly going down the rabbit hole.
Truthfully it's me.....TK's trauma behaviors have not changed that much, if at all, but I am utterly intolerant of them right now. I'm struggling to figure out why, and I've made some headway, I think. Some of it is fear. I have spent so long not fighting the small battles (e.g., letting her "win") that I fear she is turning into a self-centered, greedy kid. It's such a difficult line. It truly is not worth fighting battles over most of the trauma behaviors, and I know that trauma behavior is not manipulative, it is fear based, but even I wonder sometimes.....not so much about the potential manipulation, but the impact of the outcome. Does TK think she should always get her way because I don't fight those battles? Or am I just suffering from a severe case of burnout? (Probably the latter. The reality is I haven't been away from TK for more than 16 hours in almost 5 years. I desperately need to be away long enough to miss her, but while our support system is slooowly improving, I don't see how the logistics can work out for that. But I need it. I know it.)
The other factor is probably my own crud. Heather Forbes says our trauma kids point out our own brokenness, and this is definitely true in my case. I have been attacking my own brokenness for the last year, and have made headway, but there is still definitely work to be done. So when TK gets "greedy, self-centered", it pushes all my "unworthy, not valuable" buttons. I have prayed a lot lately about sharing some of that journey. It is so integral to what happens with TK. I have written some poems (my form of journaling) I call "Modern Psalms for the Journey", and they are, to quote Glennon Melton (Momastery), "brutiful". While my journey is not TK's, it certainly affects her. In truth, she inspired me to take my own journey to healing. I realized I could not get her further in her healing until I got myself healed (or at least on the path). So TK is the catalyst for making life better, making myself stronger, and healing our family. I'll keep praying about sharing that.....feel free to weigh in.
How do I stop going down the rabbit hole with TK when there is no break in sight? And, heaven help me, summer is two short months away. PANIC! Honest answer - I have no idea. But with God's mercy and a heaping helping of grace, we'll make it through this rough patch just as we have all the others.
I am grateful for His grace every day. And I am grateful that no matter how far down the rabbit hole we go, we always apologize and move forward.
I've been putting notes in TK's lunchbox every day called "things I love about TK". One day I wrote "I love how you are willing to forgive. It takes a lot of courage to let go of hurts. I am so proud that you are willing to have re-dos." Later that day all hades broke loose. In the aftermath, TK gave me a note that said: "Things I love about Mom. She loves me even when she's angry with me. Can we have a re-do?"
That was grace in action. Moments like that remind me that I'm doing some part of this right, and for that I am grateful.
Hang tight to grace, trauma mamas. Some days it's all that gets us through.
Truthfully it's me.....TK's trauma behaviors have not changed that much, if at all, but I am utterly intolerant of them right now. I'm struggling to figure out why, and I've made some headway, I think. Some of it is fear. I have spent so long not fighting the small battles (e.g., letting her "win") that I fear she is turning into a self-centered, greedy kid. It's such a difficult line. It truly is not worth fighting battles over most of the trauma behaviors, and I know that trauma behavior is not manipulative, it is fear based, but even I wonder sometimes.....not so much about the potential manipulation, but the impact of the outcome. Does TK think she should always get her way because I don't fight those battles? Or am I just suffering from a severe case of burnout? (Probably the latter. The reality is I haven't been away from TK for more than 16 hours in almost 5 years. I desperately need to be away long enough to miss her, but while our support system is slooowly improving, I don't see how the logistics can work out for that. But I need it. I know it.)
The other factor is probably my own crud. Heather Forbes says our trauma kids point out our own brokenness, and this is definitely true in my case. I have been attacking my own brokenness for the last year, and have made headway, but there is still definitely work to be done. So when TK gets "greedy, self-centered", it pushes all my "unworthy, not valuable" buttons. I have prayed a lot lately about sharing some of that journey. It is so integral to what happens with TK. I have written some poems (my form of journaling) I call "Modern Psalms for the Journey", and they are, to quote Glennon Melton (Momastery), "brutiful". While my journey is not TK's, it certainly affects her. In truth, she inspired me to take my own journey to healing. I realized I could not get her further in her healing until I got myself healed (or at least on the path). So TK is the catalyst for making life better, making myself stronger, and healing our family. I'll keep praying about sharing that.....feel free to weigh in.
How do I stop going down the rabbit hole with TK when there is no break in sight? And, heaven help me, summer is two short months away. PANIC! Honest answer - I have no idea. But with God's mercy and a heaping helping of grace, we'll make it through this rough patch just as we have all the others.
I am grateful for His grace every day. And I am grateful that no matter how far down the rabbit hole we go, we always apologize and move forward.
I've been putting notes in TK's lunchbox every day called "things I love about TK". One day I wrote "I love how you are willing to forgive. It takes a lot of courage to let go of hurts. I am so proud that you are willing to have re-dos." Later that day all hades broke loose. In the aftermath, TK gave me a note that said: "Things I love about Mom. She loves me even when she's angry with me. Can we have a re-do?"
That was grace in action. Moments like that remind me that I'm doing some part of this right, and for that I am grateful.
Hang tight to grace, trauma mamas. Some days it's all that gets us through.
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