TK is not a good speller. To be honest, TK is a rather abysmal speller. Luckily, at her current (Montessori) school, they just meet the students where they are rather than handing them a "grade-level" list. So TK has been handling her spelling lists (which are one to two grade levels below her current grade level) and tests well. She scored 100 on the last three tests, which built her confidence tremendously and inspired her to ask her teacher for a harder list. Wish granted.
Our usual spelling studying routine involves the trampoline and lots of silliness. Whenever TK spells a word correctly, she gets to do two back handsprings or back tucks. When she gets 5 correct in a row I have to do something silly that she picks, like spinning in a circle while singing the National Anthem.
This week studying has been a challenge. When she got two words wrong, she shut down, hopped off the trampoline and went inside and was done. I let her be done, which was the right response, but I missed a critical part of the dynamic.
Tonight our Dear Friend (DF) was over for dinner and TK wanted DF to do spelling with her. Heaven bless DF, she ran around singing, kissing kitties, and doing whatever zaniness TK prescribed. When DF left, TK ripped up the list and said, "I'm just going to flunk it anyway." I started into the "you can choose to study and I'm sure you'll get 100 or you can choose to quit and get what you get" routine......which is a fine explanation of natural consequences but totally misses the issue. After a moment, I reconnected with my trauma mama brain, and said, "Why is it so important that you get 100?" TK said, "If I don't get 100, the assistant teacher won't love me anymore. She told me she wanted me to get 100s." At first I explained that the assistant teacher was just trying to motivate her and I knew the result would not impact how the assistant teacher felt. Then I stopped myself, breathed into my trauma mama mode (again), and said, "Wow, that's a lot of pressure." Then I just waited. TK started crying big silent tears, then said, "They only love the kids that do well." I struggled to keep down all the denials that ran through my head and said, "Man, that's a really scary way to feel. It must be really hard to think people won't love you if you're not good enough." TK said, "Yeah, it is. At least I know you always love me." (Score one for the home team!) I reminded her that DF loved her the way I did, regardless of test scores or anything else (then secretly texted DF to tell her to reinforce those particular words as their next meeting!). TK hemmed and hawed a bit, wanting so desperately to believe it, but not quite trusting it.
We left it there. TK felt heard and understood. I felt stumped. Her new teachers are not really aware of all of her trauma stuff and how it impacts her. They know she's a TK but not what that means at a deep level, and we've been lucky that nothing big has really popped up so far. So now I have to figure out how to convey to them that they need to reassure TK that how they feel about her is independent of her success or failure. The natural reaction to that is for folks to say, "Of course I love her regardless, she should know that." Then I have to explain that she doesn't, and why she doesn't. And honestly there are times I don't even know myself why she doesn't (yet) believe that. I just know she doesn't, and the why doesn't matter.
I haven't seen that doubting, scared TK in a while (which is amazing), and it was sad to see her tonight. But it was also a good reminder......success is important to build confidence, but it can be a minefield for TKs. Because as some point the success will stop, and the fear will creep in.
Listen with your hearts, Trauma Mamas. I still struggle to keep myself from proffering solutions (and, as witnessed tonight, sometimes I still mess that up), but I do eventually remember to listen with my heart and not my head.
Give yourself some grace when your head kicks in. Your TK knows your heart will chime in sooner or later, and when it does you will offer them abundant grace. Revel in the successes, but be ready for the pitfalls that come with them. Celebrate the moments you can forget how to be Trauma Mama, but keep those skills sharp, because those TK moments pop up when you least expect them (and usually when you're least prepared to deal with them!) Stay strong, Trauma Mamas. Grab the grace of a day (or an hour or a minute) that your TK is "okay". Know it is because of your fearlessness in the face of rejection and your commitment to unconditional love. You rock, Trauma Mamas. WE rock.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Long time no blog
I know it's been almost two months since I blogged. I was busy surviving summer. We did - school started (quite smoothly, for a TK, which may not be smoothly for a non TK, but still.......)
Summer was fairly interminable, and I was ridiculously happy to see school start. We had some major meldtowns, some minor ones, but also some moments where I stopped and looked at how much progress we've made. Those were the sweet moments. Sometimes in this journey you get so stuck in the mode of surviving the moment that you forget to assess the progress. So here are some major signs of progress in our journey:
- We were invited to a dear friend's parents' house for a cookout. There were lots of their family there, most of whom TK had not met. She decided she wanted to go and didn't waiver from her decision. She had a blast and told me later she felt like they were just part of our family too. To have her walk into a situation with many strangers and immediately depart from me and go play with the other kids there (all but one was new to her) was AMAZING! She didn't want to leave.
- We were invited the same dear friend's granddaughter's 1st birthday. I was working at a consignment sale so told TK she could either go late with me or ride with our friend's son and daughter-in-law. TK has met them multiple times but hasn't spent a lot of time with them --- certainly not nearly the time it normally takes her to deem someone "safe". She said she'd just hang and ride with them. This was remarkable. Granted, this family has become our extended family, and we all love each other to pieces, even though we're relatively new "family members." But to see TK so relaxed and flexible ---- it was a a visual reminder that we really are making progress.
To digress (nothing new there).....
A crazy, wonderful friend took on a feral cat. This cat may actually have a neurological issue, but we'll put that aside for the moment. She'll run over to get you to pat her, then whip around and bite you. Or she'll rub against your legs then scratch you. I laughingly said she was a Trauma Kitty. As thought about it, the parallels rolled through my head.
TK parents get this. They know the pain of pouring love into a TK who is desperately seeking it but rejects it (and them). They know the agony of having someone for whom you have sacrificed seemingly endless amounts of emotional energy, finances, relationships, and peace reject you.
But they also know the relief when the cuddles are just cuddles, and not a precursor to rejection. They know the "hold your breath for the other shoe to fall" feeling of hearing "I love you", and the relief at not hearing (20 seconds later) "God made a mistake when He made you my parent!" They know the incredible joy of realizing that in that one moment, love conquered fear. And it gives us all the courage to keep going, to keep conquering fear with unconditional, unremitting, unimaginable love.
We have a big challenge ahead of us this week. I am having surgery Tuesday, and this will be the first time in TK's life that I have been truly incapacitated. Everyone (who doesn't get TKs) says what a great help she'll be. I laugh (usually not out loud). I expect there will be about 10 minutes of sympathy and an occasional spurt of helpfulness. But mostly there will be fear - manifested as resentment: "Why won't you play with me? What's for dinner? Why are you so grumpy?" I've walked her through how I think the week will go, but I still expect it will be a major challenge. I will be in physical pain, but my heart will hurt as well as I watch her struggle through this. She may surprise me- she had made some huge strides in the last few months, and this may be a non-event (but it certainly doesn't seem likely). So I will remind the people in her life that she needs some extra TLC and some extra grace when she is rude/in their face/unpredictable.
Send us both some grace. I'll need it to remember TK is hurting in her own way as I recover. She'll need it to share it with me and offer me space (physical and emotional) to recover. When I feel it wane I will think of her poise and assurance this summer in new situations and remind myself that grace and love have gotten us this far, and they will keep us moving forward in our journey.
Stop and give yourself the grace of looking at your TK's progress. It's probably far more significant than you think.
Summer was fairly interminable, and I was ridiculously happy to see school start. We had some major meldtowns, some minor ones, but also some moments where I stopped and looked at how much progress we've made. Those were the sweet moments. Sometimes in this journey you get so stuck in the mode of surviving the moment that you forget to assess the progress. So here are some major signs of progress in our journey:
- We were invited to a dear friend's parents' house for a cookout. There were lots of their family there, most of whom TK had not met. She decided she wanted to go and didn't waiver from her decision. She had a blast and told me later she felt like they were just part of our family too. To have her walk into a situation with many strangers and immediately depart from me and go play with the other kids there (all but one was new to her) was AMAZING! She didn't want to leave.
- We were invited the same dear friend's granddaughter's 1st birthday. I was working at a consignment sale so told TK she could either go late with me or ride with our friend's son and daughter-in-law. TK has met them multiple times but hasn't spent a lot of time with them --- certainly not nearly the time it normally takes her to deem someone "safe". She said she'd just hang and ride with them. This was remarkable. Granted, this family has become our extended family, and we all love each other to pieces, even though we're relatively new "family members." But to see TK so relaxed and flexible ---- it was a a visual reminder that we really are making progress.
To digress (nothing new there).....
A crazy, wonderful friend took on a feral cat. This cat may actually have a neurological issue, but we'll put that aside for the moment. She'll run over to get you to pat her, then whip around and bite you. Or she'll rub against your legs then scratch you. I laughingly said she was a Trauma Kitty. As thought about it, the parallels rolled through my head.
TK parents get this. They know the pain of pouring love into a TK who is desperately seeking it but rejects it (and them). They know the agony of having someone for whom you have sacrificed seemingly endless amounts of emotional energy, finances, relationships, and peace reject you.
But they also know the relief when the cuddles are just cuddles, and not a precursor to rejection. They know the "hold your breath for the other shoe to fall" feeling of hearing "I love you", and the relief at not hearing (20 seconds later) "God made a mistake when He made you my parent!" They know the incredible joy of realizing that in that one moment, love conquered fear. And it gives us all the courage to keep going, to keep conquering fear with unconditional, unremitting, unimaginable love.
We have a big challenge ahead of us this week. I am having surgery Tuesday, and this will be the first time in TK's life that I have been truly incapacitated. Everyone (who doesn't get TKs) says what a great help she'll be. I laugh (usually not out loud). I expect there will be about 10 minutes of sympathy and an occasional spurt of helpfulness. But mostly there will be fear - manifested as resentment: "Why won't you play with me? What's for dinner? Why are you so grumpy?" I've walked her through how I think the week will go, but I still expect it will be a major challenge. I will be in physical pain, but my heart will hurt as well as I watch her struggle through this. She may surprise me- she had made some huge strides in the last few months, and this may be a non-event (but it certainly doesn't seem likely). So I will remind the people in her life that she needs some extra TLC and some extra grace when she is rude/in their face/unpredictable.
Send us both some grace. I'll need it to remember TK is hurting in her own way as I recover. She'll need it to share it with me and offer me space (physical and emotional) to recover. When I feel it wane I will think of her poise and assurance this summer in new situations and remind myself that grace and love have gotten us this far, and they will keep us moving forward in our journey.
Stop and give yourself the grace of looking at your TK's progress. It's probably far more significant than you think.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
45 days left of summer "vacation"
As you read, the first two weeks of summer torture (aka summer vacation to the non trauma folks) were horrible. I was pretty sure one or both of us would need to be heavily medicated to survive the rest of summer.
The next two weeks were pretty good. The primary reason is we had things scheduled. TK had drama camp in the morning for two weeks (which she loved) and art camp one week in the afternoon. So she got structure, mental stimulation, and social time with peers. I also greatly limited screen time and focused on really connecting with her (which, let's face it, is easier when I got a little time away from her).
This week is the first of two weeks of nothing on the agenda. I've come at it from a different perspective - planning something for each day, limiting screen time, making sure we play a lot. We did pretty well in the beginning of week 1 of this 2 week lull. A friend has two litters of kittens that we've been socializing and helping with, so there has been the happiness that comes from helping and from loving on baby kittens. We hit the museum and checked out a new library one day, had an (indoor) skateboarding competition (gotta love wood floors), played capture the flag (also inside), and broke out lots of board games and puzzles.
Today, however....not so great. We had a great start - a repeat skateboarding competition, more capture the flag, made a photo book of TK and her favorite stuffed critter (lots of silly poses, captions, etc), then I let her watch some movies while I mowed the lawn and did some necessary outside chores (in the oppressively hot weather....felt like 106 out there). When I came in I got cleaned up and sat down to chill out. TK came out and asked her favorite stuffed critter (FSC) to make up a game. (FSC's voice is of course mine, so this was in essence asking me to make up a game.) FSC declined. BOOM! TK started screaming hateful things at FSC and yelling at him to be mean back to her. FSC refused to be mean back, which fanned the flames. After about 5 minutes FSC went silent and TK stormed off to her room. She came out a few minutes later and apologized to FSC, then repeated her request for him to make up a game. (It was now 10 minutes before bedtime). FSC countered with the offer of a board game or card game. Nope. TK went off again, threatening FSC with the trash can, packing him up and sending him away, ripping his head off. FSC again refused to engage, just kept telling TK he loved her and wouldn't be mean to her. TK again storms off to her room and comes out in a few minutes to apologize.
A few minutes later she starts sobbing. "When I begged you not to go to Girl Scout camp, you went anyway. I BEGGED you and you left me." (SERIOUSLY? This was 2 months ago!) I reminded her that she had fun while I was away. (Yeah, in retrospect I blew it. I was trying to be rational in the face of a trauma meltdown. But honestly I just wanted this to be over so I could get her in bed). What ensued was a melange of calm, tears, screaming, frustration, and futility. I was hellbent on making her understand that I need some time to be with adults and be more than just Mom, and she was equally hellbent on.....oh, I have no idea what she was hellbent on. She was obviously feeling rejected and unimportant. ("Just pack me off whenever you want and you can pretend you don't even HAVE a kid!" "Next year you are NOT going and that's final!") I was far too much in my "Life isn't all about you, Missy!" mindset to respond appropriately.
I finally just shut it down and packed her off to bed. She sobbed for a while as I read, then she calmed down and we ended up okay.
I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but I strongly suspect I will wake up with a sense of dread and panic. I know she needs structure, but our funds are severely limited so I can't provide a never ending stream of camps. And she wouldn't go, anyway. Unfortunately we don't have the neighborhood that's full of kids to play with, and we are still considered "problematic" from past trauma meltdowns. Part of me thinks I should go back to work full time (even though it would physically not be feasible....there are still many days I am in significant pain and when I worked two or three days at school I was done in for days afterward). But the thought of the structure and social interaction of child care is honestly appealing (and let's be real, not being 24/7 mom is appealing too).
As always, there's no easy answer. We have a great fun trip planned with good friends (one for her, one for me) in early July, so I think we will both get what we need from that. Then there's basketball camp for a week, then we will head to the beach for a week (to my mom's - a 10 hour drive followed by days of three of us in a small condo.....stressful, to say the least, but at least it's a change of venue). By the time we get home we will have about 2 weeks until school starts.
We can get through this. I just wish it was easier. Luckily we have the graces of a new day, a re-do, and unconditional love to get us through.
Hang in there, Trauma Mamas.......school is coming!
.
The next two weeks were pretty good. The primary reason is we had things scheduled. TK had drama camp in the morning for two weeks (which she loved) and art camp one week in the afternoon. So she got structure, mental stimulation, and social time with peers. I also greatly limited screen time and focused on really connecting with her (which, let's face it, is easier when I got a little time away from her).
This week is the first of two weeks of nothing on the agenda. I've come at it from a different perspective - planning something for each day, limiting screen time, making sure we play a lot. We did pretty well in the beginning of week 1 of this 2 week lull. A friend has two litters of kittens that we've been socializing and helping with, so there has been the happiness that comes from helping and from loving on baby kittens. We hit the museum and checked out a new library one day, had an (indoor) skateboarding competition (gotta love wood floors), played capture the flag (also inside), and broke out lots of board games and puzzles.
Today, however....not so great. We had a great start - a repeat skateboarding competition, more capture the flag, made a photo book of TK and her favorite stuffed critter (lots of silly poses, captions, etc), then I let her watch some movies while I mowed the lawn and did some necessary outside chores (in the oppressively hot weather....felt like 106 out there). When I came in I got cleaned up and sat down to chill out. TK came out and asked her favorite stuffed critter (FSC) to make up a game. (FSC's voice is of course mine, so this was in essence asking me to make up a game.) FSC declined. BOOM! TK started screaming hateful things at FSC and yelling at him to be mean back to her. FSC refused to be mean back, which fanned the flames. After about 5 minutes FSC went silent and TK stormed off to her room. She came out a few minutes later and apologized to FSC, then repeated her request for him to make up a game. (It was now 10 minutes before bedtime). FSC countered with the offer of a board game or card game. Nope. TK went off again, threatening FSC with the trash can, packing him up and sending him away, ripping his head off. FSC again refused to engage, just kept telling TK he loved her and wouldn't be mean to her. TK again storms off to her room and comes out in a few minutes to apologize.
A few minutes later she starts sobbing. "When I begged you not to go to Girl Scout camp, you went anyway. I BEGGED you and you left me." (SERIOUSLY? This was 2 months ago!) I reminded her that she had fun while I was away. (Yeah, in retrospect I blew it. I was trying to be rational in the face of a trauma meltdown. But honestly I just wanted this to be over so I could get her in bed). What ensued was a melange of calm, tears, screaming, frustration, and futility. I was hellbent on making her understand that I need some time to be with adults and be more than just Mom, and she was equally hellbent on.....oh, I have no idea what she was hellbent on. She was obviously feeling rejected and unimportant. ("Just pack me off whenever you want and you can pretend you don't even HAVE a kid!" "Next year you are NOT going and that's final!") I was far too much in my "Life isn't all about you, Missy!" mindset to respond appropriately.
I finally just shut it down and packed her off to bed. She sobbed for a while as I read, then she calmed down and we ended up okay.
I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, but I strongly suspect I will wake up with a sense of dread and panic. I know she needs structure, but our funds are severely limited so I can't provide a never ending stream of camps. And she wouldn't go, anyway. Unfortunately we don't have the neighborhood that's full of kids to play with, and we are still considered "problematic" from past trauma meltdowns. Part of me thinks I should go back to work full time (even though it would physically not be feasible....there are still many days I am in significant pain and when I worked two or three days at school I was done in for days afterward). But the thought of the structure and social interaction of child care is honestly appealing (and let's be real, not being 24/7 mom is appealing too).
As always, there's no easy answer. We have a great fun trip planned with good friends (one for her, one for me) in early July, so I think we will both get what we need from that. Then there's basketball camp for a week, then we will head to the beach for a week (to my mom's - a 10 hour drive followed by days of three of us in a small condo.....stressful, to say the least, but at least it's a change of venue). By the time we get home we will have about 2 weeks until school starts.
We can get through this. I just wish it was easier. Luckily we have the graces of a new day, a re-do, and unconditional love to get us through.
Hang in there, Trauma Mamas.......school is coming!
.
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
Hoist on my own petard
No, I didn't know what a petard is, either, but I looked it up (a small bomb, affixed to a door in the past. The fuse was lit and the fuse lighter ran, but if he did not run fast enough he blew himself up. Just in case you wondered).
Love conquers fear. Trauma is basically fear in action. So love conquers trauma.....easy, right? (Give me a moment while I stop laughing). If only. We never lack for love in our house, but fear still rules the day sometimes. You all know fear has ruled my heart and our house the last two weeks. Luckily I am starting to shake it loose.
I received lots of grace this week when some friends who know us well heard me say a specific word that caught their attention. I said that TK was 20% frenetic, 60% normal and 20% depressed. The word "frenetic" was the key. Frenetic means TK is lacking connection; she is overwhelmed; she cannot self-regulate. Frenetic means fear is winning in her heart too. Frenetic means she needs me to pull her closer and, in spite of all the complaints and screaming "That's NOT what I need!", make our world smaller - limit stimuli, keep a regular schedule, keep interactions with others shorter than normal.......all things I did not want to do.
I tried taking the easy way out. I gave her the "first week of summer" free reign with electronics. And it was lovely. She spent hours in her room and I had peace and quiet....until I didn't. And the didn't so far outweighed the lovely that I am, in retrospect, wondering where I came up with that stupid in the first place. Surely after almost 6 years of this I know better! The easy way out never works. It is, indeed, a lovely thought that it would, and sometimes you have to hold onto that hope and run with it. And, like me, you will be surprised when it blows up in your face. (And, like me, you'll probably slap yourself in the head and say "duh.")
The reality is I knew this answer but ignored it for a few more days. I was just not ready to be full on trauma mama. It is exhausting and I needed a mental health year (sadly my year only lasted two weeks).
So we hit the brakes on electronics, upped the outside time, increased the mom/TK time, and things are improving a bit. Drama camp also started this week, so that's 2-1/2 hours a day of social interaction and being good at something, which helps. So what does our summer day look like? Drama camp, then home to swim, play basketball, jump on the trampoline, play games, watch a little TV, turn it off and play games, do puzzles, or read. But whatever we choose, we are in the same room....no more isolation.
It's a challenge. TK very much wants time in her room to herself, but right now I have to limit that to the bare minimum. As much as she wants it, that isolation feeds trauma. And as much as I want it, feeding trauma is like giving the gremlin food after midnight.......bad things happen.
Why, you wonder, did it take so long to figure out? Multiple reasons. First, I admit I was being lazy. I full-up own that. I was tired of playing trauma mama (May is always exhausting - Gotcha Day, birthday, visits from Grandma for those events, end of school - lots of good things that totally wreck the predictability and safety of our lives), so I took a break. Was it worth it? I'm not sure - right now I'd say no, but having hours where I could pretend I was alone was pretty nice. Second, I was so buried in the miasma of crud that I couldn't see out of the pit. And when I did peek out, I didn't like the view (i.e., the harsh reality that we had to get back to near constant togetherness for a while), so I ducked back in the pit.
I am grateful for the grace of those of you who told me what a good job I was doing (even though we both know I wasn't!). I started writing this blog to help others heal, but it heals me too.
Tonight TK told me, "Mom, we need go back to the school year rule of no electronics after 8, so let's turn off the TV and play." I admit a big part of me whined internally ("We spent 2-1/2 hours in the pool and an hour on the trampoline, and I don't want to play school."), but I did it. And we had a peaceful bedtime. HALLELUJAH! Yesterday was the first day we didn't have any screaming (from either of us).....today marked day 2. I am VERY grateful for that grace.
Don't beat yourselves up when you take a breather, trauma mamas. Just own it, take a deep breath, move on and fix it. You know what to do. And not wanting/being able to do it sometimes is okay. The love is always there. And yeah, you'll blow it on occasion. Sometimes you'll even blow it on purpose. But the grace to try again when you're ready is always there. Hold onto that grace.....some days it's your only life raft. Grace and love are enough.
Love conquers fear. Trauma is basically fear in action. So love conquers trauma.....easy, right? (Give me a moment while I stop laughing). If only. We never lack for love in our house, but fear still rules the day sometimes. You all know fear has ruled my heart and our house the last two weeks. Luckily I am starting to shake it loose.
I received lots of grace this week when some friends who know us well heard me say a specific word that caught their attention. I said that TK was 20% frenetic, 60% normal and 20% depressed. The word "frenetic" was the key. Frenetic means TK is lacking connection; she is overwhelmed; she cannot self-regulate. Frenetic means fear is winning in her heart too. Frenetic means she needs me to pull her closer and, in spite of all the complaints and screaming "That's NOT what I need!", make our world smaller - limit stimuli, keep a regular schedule, keep interactions with others shorter than normal.......all things I did not want to do.
I tried taking the easy way out. I gave her the "first week of summer" free reign with electronics. And it was lovely. She spent hours in her room and I had peace and quiet....until I didn't. And the didn't so far outweighed the lovely that I am, in retrospect, wondering where I came up with that stupid in the first place. Surely after almost 6 years of this I know better! The easy way out never works. It is, indeed, a lovely thought that it would, and sometimes you have to hold onto that hope and run with it. And, like me, you will be surprised when it blows up in your face. (And, like me, you'll probably slap yourself in the head and say "duh.")
The reality is I knew this answer but ignored it for a few more days. I was just not ready to be full on trauma mama. It is exhausting and I needed a mental health year (sadly my year only lasted two weeks).
So we hit the brakes on electronics, upped the outside time, increased the mom/TK time, and things are improving a bit. Drama camp also started this week, so that's 2-1/2 hours a day of social interaction and being good at something, which helps. So what does our summer day look like? Drama camp, then home to swim, play basketball, jump on the trampoline, play games, watch a little TV, turn it off and play games, do puzzles, or read. But whatever we choose, we are in the same room....no more isolation.
It's a challenge. TK very much wants time in her room to herself, but right now I have to limit that to the bare minimum. As much as she wants it, that isolation feeds trauma. And as much as I want it, feeding trauma is like giving the gremlin food after midnight.......bad things happen.
Why, you wonder, did it take so long to figure out? Multiple reasons. First, I admit I was being lazy. I full-up own that. I was tired of playing trauma mama (May is always exhausting - Gotcha Day, birthday, visits from Grandma for those events, end of school - lots of good things that totally wreck the predictability and safety of our lives), so I took a break. Was it worth it? I'm not sure - right now I'd say no, but having hours where I could pretend I was alone was pretty nice. Second, I was so buried in the miasma of crud that I couldn't see out of the pit. And when I did peek out, I didn't like the view (i.e., the harsh reality that we had to get back to near constant togetherness for a while), so I ducked back in the pit.
I am grateful for the grace of those of you who told me what a good job I was doing (even though we both know I wasn't!). I started writing this blog to help others heal, but it heals me too.
Tonight TK told me, "Mom, we need go back to the school year rule of no electronics after 8, so let's turn off the TV and play." I admit a big part of me whined internally ("We spent 2-1/2 hours in the pool and an hour on the trampoline, and I don't want to play school."), but I did it. And we had a peaceful bedtime. HALLELUJAH! Yesterday was the first day we didn't have any screaming (from either of us).....today marked day 2. I am VERY grateful for that grace.
Don't beat yourselves up when you take a breather, trauma mamas. Just own it, take a deep breath, move on and fix it. You know what to do. And not wanting/being able to do it sometimes is okay. The love is always there. And yeah, you'll blow it on occasion. Sometimes you'll even blow it on purpose. But the grace to try again when you're ready is always there. Hold onto that grace.....some days it's your only life raft. Grace and love are enough.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Fear tsunami
This one hurts to write, but it's right in line with my promise to tell you the whole truth of being a trauma mama, so here goes. I will warn you it is even more convoluted than normal.
We are almost two weeks into summer "vacation". TK is bored silly and lonely. In truth we are both feeling isolated and out of sorts. (I hate summer....it's the ultimate long break from school, and life devolves rapidly when we lose structure and exposure to friends on a regular basis). TK isn't rife with friends, and the ones she has are either consumed with sports activities, traveling, in camp or geographically too far away to make frequent get-togethers infeasible. Though she had a get together yesterday and had a fabulous time.
An aside, yet inherent to the story.....TK decided to quit the gymnastics team. She has been getting more and more reluctant to go to practice, so I wasn't surprised. She told me, "Mom, I'm the worst one on the team and I leave every practice feeling like a loser." It's hard to push back against that. So she quit. The downside of that is she lost that scheduled, regular social interaction. That was a huge loss. I debated pushing her to stay until school started so she would have social time, but I could not envision fighting that battle three times a week knowing it was crushing her self esteem.
So.......back to today's saga.
TK really REALLY wanted to go to an arcade she had been to at her get together yesterday (and she had been pretty successful. TK would live in an arcade and think she had died and gone to heaven.) She had some money left and wanted to spend it there. I advised against it but she insisted, so I decided some lessons must be learned the hard way. She spent the first half of it and got bupkis, so I suggested saving the rest to spend elsewhere. She rejected that idea and spent it in the claw machine. She did win one thing she wanted. As we left she said, "Mom, that was a really expensive pig." I just nodded.
On the way home she was sobbing in the car. I told her I was sorry she hadn't won more, and she said, "That's not it. I wish I hadn't spent all my money for nothing." I empathized, and she got immediately furious. "Don't you have something else to say?" I told her I was sorry she was sad. "Aren't you going to tell me you'll give me the money I spent so I'm not sad?" Ummmmm.....that would be no. KABOOM! "Worst mom ever, wish I had a rich mom who gave me whatever I wanted, I'm only 10 and don't have to learn about money yet, I don't even get an allowance because you think I should EARN my money which is STUPID." There was more, but that gives you the gist.
Other earlier conversations came into play. I had told her that for the rest of the summer I would get two days to decide what we did/where we went, etc, and the others would be what we normally did, which is collaborate driven largely by her whims. The meltdown escalated into, "Why don't you just decide what we do every day? You don't even want me, just admit it."
But I couldn't do it......I couldn't get into that warm and fuzzy place of empathy and compassion. Why? The ugly truth is my life isn't rife with friends either, and the ones I have I almost never get alone time with because TK is my constant sidekick. She ranted at me about how I have friends and she doesn't, and it basically turned into a woe is me competition, with me yelling, "Too bad for you that your mom sucks. So sorry." (See, I told you it was ugly). It ended with both of us sobbing in our rooms. And for the first time ever, I had a few minutes where I felt like she would be better off with a different mom. It wasn't that I wished I didn't have her - I have never had that thought, not even in the worst of the worst. But I honestly wondered if I could be what she needed. Even thinking that broke my heart.
She came out later and asked me why I was so upset. I tried to make her understand, which is not a good trauma response, but at that point my own trauma trumped hers, at least in my mind. And I actually think that's okay. Yes, she has trauma issues. But so do other people, and at some point she will have to learn that hers don't always trump the day ---- even with mom.
She asked if we could go to some thrift stores to look for books she wanted (she had an IOU from me for some books), and I said yes. I got in the car still crying. She asked me every few minutes, "Mom, are you feeling better yet? " She apologized for making me cry, and said, "I never said you sucked, and I don't know why you keep yelling at me." I told her it was a bad day for mom, and I'm sorry I yelled but sometimes my life is pretty hard too. Then I told her I spent 99% of my time and energy trying to make her happy, and I know she's not but I don't know why, and that makes me feel like a bad mom. I know it not's cool to dump your crud on your kid, but I wanted her to get it - that other people's challenges matter too, that she can't always be first, that mom is human and needs some compassion too.
I still don't know exactly why she is so unhappy. I don't know if it's puberty, summer isolation, some hidden fear.......she was so negative and hateful at the beginning of her therapy session yesterday that she freaked out the therapist. But the therapist was late and I'm not sure if some of it was just retaliation for that, because 15 minutes in she was sweetness and light. But hearing that from the therapist scared me.....is there some darkness/weight/sadness in her that I'm not seeing? Is she really far less okay than I think?
I know I can't go there. Operating out of fear results in days like today - where things explode and everyone is a casualty. But that fear has crept into my heart and put me on high alert. TK told me she was not going back to the therapist, that she didn't like her anymore and she wasn't going to talk to anyone ever again about how she felt. I freaked then tried to breathe, telling myself it's not until Wed, and this is not the first time she had made this declaration, so just let it go.
She took a new class tonight (trampoline) and I was so proud of her......it was at a new gym, new coaches, didn't know anyone there, and she did it - went out there and did her stuff. That took tremendous courage. I see that and think, "surely she is in the same pretty good mental/emotional place she normally is." Luckily drama camp starts next week- hopefully having some structure will help too.
Bottom line - I am in the worst place to be with a TK - in a place of fear. She gave me some grace when she kept asking me if I felt better, gave me a hug, said she loved me. In an interesting paradox, those did not dent my fear level, which gives me insight into how she must feel sometimes when she is awash in fear and I try to ease it. (Have to admit I didn't really want that insight, thanks.) Tonight was a very normal night, but I have my fear colored glasses on, so I am questioning everything.
Send some grace our way. This too shall pass, but I will be on high alert for signs that something is not right (more not right than normal, that is). I will try to get myself out of this place of fear, for there is nothing good that can happen while I am here. I'm honestly not sure how to get out of it, but I'll keep praying and trusting I will. Grace will get me there.
We are almost two weeks into summer "vacation". TK is bored silly and lonely. In truth we are both feeling isolated and out of sorts. (I hate summer....it's the ultimate long break from school, and life devolves rapidly when we lose structure and exposure to friends on a regular basis). TK isn't rife with friends, and the ones she has are either consumed with sports activities, traveling, in camp or geographically too far away to make frequent get-togethers infeasible. Though she had a get together yesterday and had a fabulous time.
An aside, yet inherent to the story.....TK decided to quit the gymnastics team. She has been getting more and more reluctant to go to practice, so I wasn't surprised. She told me, "Mom, I'm the worst one on the team and I leave every practice feeling like a loser." It's hard to push back against that. So she quit. The downside of that is she lost that scheduled, regular social interaction. That was a huge loss. I debated pushing her to stay until school started so she would have social time, but I could not envision fighting that battle three times a week knowing it was crushing her self esteem.
So.......back to today's saga.
TK really REALLY wanted to go to an arcade she had been to at her get together yesterday (and she had been pretty successful. TK would live in an arcade and think she had died and gone to heaven.) She had some money left and wanted to spend it there. I advised against it but she insisted, so I decided some lessons must be learned the hard way. She spent the first half of it and got bupkis, so I suggested saving the rest to spend elsewhere. She rejected that idea and spent it in the claw machine. She did win one thing she wanted. As we left she said, "Mom, that was a really expensive pig." I just nodded.
On the way home she was sobbing in the car. I told her I was sorry she hadn't won more, and she said, "That's not it. I wish I hadn't spent all my money for nothing." I empathized, and she got immediately furious. "Don't you have something else to say?" I told her I was sorry she was sad. "Aren't you going to tell me you'll give me the money I spent so I'm not sad?" Ummmmm.....that would be no. KABOOM! "Worst mom ever, wish I had a rich mom who gave me whatever I wanted, I'm only 10 and don't have to learn about money yet, I don't even get an allowance because you think I should EARN my money which is STUPID." There was more, but that gives you the gist.
Other earlier conversations came into play. I had told her that for the rest of the summer I would get two days to decide what we did/where we went, etc, and the others would be what we normally did, which is collaborate driven largely by her whims. The meltdown escalated into, "Why don't you just decide what we do every day? You don't even want me, just admit it."
But I couldn't do it......I couldn't get into that warm and fuzzy place of empathy and compassion. Why? The ugly truth is my life isn't rife with friends either, and the ones I have I almost never get alone time with because TK is my constant sidekick. She ranted at me about how I have friends and she doesn't, and it basically turned into a woe is me competition, with me yelling, "Too bad for you that your mom sucks. So sorry." (See, I told you it was ugly). It ended with both of us sobbing in our rooms. And for the first time ever, I had a few minutes where I felt like she would be better off with a different mom. It wasn't that I wished I didn't have her - I have never had that thought, not even in the worst of the worst. But I honestly wondered if I could be what she needed. Even thinking that broke my heart.
She came out later and asked me why I was so upset. I tried to make her understand, which is not a good trauma response, but at that point my own trauma trumped hers, at least in my mind. And I actually think that's okay. Yes, she has trauma issues. But so do other people, and at some point she will have to learn that hers don't always trump the day ---- even with mom.
She asked if we could go to some thrift stores to look for books she wanted (she had an IOU from me for some books), and I said yes. I got in the car still crying. She asked me every few minutes, "Mom, are you feeling better yet? " She apologized for making me cry, and said, "I never said you sucked, and I don't know why you keep yelling at me." I told her it was a bad day for mom, and I'm sorry I yelled but sometimes my life is pretty hard too. Then I told her I spent 99% of my time and energy trying to make her happy, and I know she's not but I don't know why, and that makes me feel like a bad mom. I know it not's cool to dump your crud on your kid, but I wanted her to get it - that other people's challenges matter too, that she can't always be first, that mom is human and needs some compassion too.
I still don't know exactly why she is so unhappy. I don't know if it's puberty, summer isolation, some hidden fear.......she was so negative and hateful at the beginning of her therapy session yesterday that she freaked out the therapist. But the therapist was late and I'm not sure if some of it was just retaliation for that, because 15 minutes in she was sweetness and light. But hearing that from the therapist scared me.....is there some darkness/weight/sadness in her that I'm not seeing? Is she really far less okay than I think?
I know I can't go there. Operating out of fear results in days like today - where things explode and everyone is a casualty. But that fear has crept into my heart and put me on high alert. TK told me she was not going back to the therapist, that she didn't like her anymore and she wasn't going to talk to anyone ever again about how she felt. I freaked then tried to breathe, telling myself it's not until Wed, and this is not the first time she had made this declaration, so just let it go.
She took a new class tonight (trampoline) and I was so proud of her......it was at a new gym, new coaches, didn't know anyone there, and she did it - went out there and did her stuff. That took tremendous courage. I see that and think, "surely she is in the same pretty good mental/emotional place she normally is." Luckily drama camp starts next week- hopefully having some structure will help too.
Bottom line - I am in the worst place to be with a TK - in a place of fear. She gave me some grace when she kept asking me if I felt better, gave me a hug, said she loved me. In an interesting paradox, those did not dent my fear level, which gives me insight into how she must feel sometimes when she is awash in fear and I try to ease it. (Have to admit I didn't really want that insight, thanks.) Tonight was a very normal night, but I have my fear colored glasses on, so I am questioning everything.
Send some grace our way. This too shall pass, but I will be on high alert for signs that something is not right (more not right than normal, that is). I will try to get myself out of this place of fear, for there is nothing good that can happen while I am here. I'm honestly not sure how to get out of it, but I'll keep praying and trusting I will. Grace will get me there.
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Insert Theme from JAWS here
DunDunDunDunDunDunDunDun.....It is worse than the film that kept you out of the ocean.....it is....
THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER VACATION!
Yep, it's the beginning of 11 weeks of trying to keep TK regulated without the comfort of the routine and predictability of school. And while she is thrilled to be out of school and free to do "whatever I want - whoo hoo!", I am trying to avert the incipient panic that always hits me when long stretches of unstructured time lie in front of us.
Transitions are hard for TKs. That's just a fact. And while they are not as hard as they were before, they are still hard. Transitioning from seeing your friends almost every day, having a structure, getting loved on by various teachers, and feeling successful at something to not having any of that is an abrupt shock to the system. And as we know (and if you don't, heed well), even good change is hard (which absolutely stinks, because it is so unfair that going on vacation guarantees a meltdown or two or thirty).
I admit I am setting myself up a bit. I know it, and I'm still doing it. Every year when school ends we have unlimited TV/computer/iPad for one week. Yes, this is not the best thing for a TK. It is both overstimulating and understimulating at the same time. Luckily TK gets bored with it so we intersperse it with trampoline (with Mom, of course), swimming (without Mom because the pool is still FREEZING), basketball, etc, so there is still some regulation through movement. So why, you ask, do I do it if I know it will discombobulate her? Because it makes the beginning of the transition easier. So when we are both floundering with the full stop of school, we get to have some space and time without being on top of each other. So yes, I will pay for it later, but in a week I'll be mentally ready (well,as ready as you ever are) for the drama. And I say that unashamedly....sometimes you are allowed to pick the path of least resistance. You can't be a hero every day, and that's okay.
We had an eventful start to our summer transition. A friend of ours with a Trauma Toddler (TT) had a child care crisis, and TK and I talked about how we could help. TK wanted us to babysit Fri (her first day off from school). I told her she'd have to get up early and she said we needed to do it, she understood him, she knew he was scared and she thought it would help if he was with us and not someone else. I was so proud of her. I told her I would have to lavish more attention on TT than on her, and she said okay. (I knew it wouldn't be that easy, but getting out of the comfort zone is a good thing as long as it is done carefully and knowing the aftermath is coming). Friday went well - she was so good with TT, and she was very pleased and proud of herself for sharing Mom. It was beautiful to see the compassion and grace coming from her. On to Friday night......a little aftermath. She had gymnastics and about 2/3 of the way through she came off the floor and said she needed to leave and started crying. So we left. When we got home, she sat next to me on the couch for 2 hours and snuggled while we watched TV. She ended up in my bed about 2 AM, which was not surprising. Not too bad so far, but I was pretty sure the storm was still brewing.
Sat AM (after an uneventful time at gymnastics) we went to Target to spend some birthday $ she had. She was a few cents short for what she wanted to buy. I asked her if she needed to ask me something (i.e., can I borrow 5 cents) but she said, "Never MIND!" and stomped over to the exit door. When we got to the car she started throwing things from the front seat to the back seat (these are the moments I need to remind myself that I am grateful she's not throwing them at me, but I didn't). I ditched Trauma Mama mode and went into Summer Panic mode. "I don't know what your problem is, but you can just get over your snit right now." (Imagine, that didn't work so well. Shocking, I know). I knew immediately I had not reacted in a regulated way that would make her feel understood and defuse things, but sometimes my brain just says, "Let's dance, Sister." We did regroup - she asked for a re-do as we left the library, and I said yes, of course. (I always say yes, but sometimes it takes me a good while to actually get to a re-do state). On the 25 minute ride home she was totally silent (not even Taylor Swift on the CD player, which is a rarity). I struggled to get into that place of compassion. After about 15 minutes, I took a deep mental breath and said, "I'm sorry you're upset. I wish I could just know what's in your head and your heart so I would know why you're upset, but I can't, so if you want me to know you have to tell me. If you don't want me to know, that's okay too. I love you." She didn't say anything, but about 5 minutes later she started talking about mundane stuff, so I knew we were back in regulation mode. Re-dos are definitely grace in action. They are so powerful, and so easy (and so hard) to do. I still don't know what was wrong. I am pretty certain the combo of trauma and puberty may put me in the loony bin, however.
A side note......when I mentioned to a group of friends that we were watching TT on Friday, they said things like, "Good, TK will get a taste of her own medicine." I did NOT use that opportunity for education. (I did later go into rant mode, though just in my head....."That is just ridiculous. Trauma is fear in action, not a 'I'm not getting my way so let me throw a tantrum' thing. Watching another kid have a trauma meltdown may be a cause for compassion and understanding but it is NOT a 'see how ridiculous you look when you do this' moment. There is no 'medicine' to be had here - there is just education and love.") It made me sad......obviously to them it's still a behavior issue and not a fear issue. I don't know how to convey that understanding. I'll keep working on that.
Give yourselves some extra grace for the summer, Trauma Mamas. It's most likely going to be a very bumpy ride. It's okay to take the easy way out sometimes, so give yourselves the permission to do that. Grab the small graces where you can. You're going to blow it - sometimes even on purpose. That's okay - give yourself a re-do when you need one. Only 77 days til school starts.......
THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER VACATION!
Yep, it's the beginning of 11 weeks of trying to keep TK regulated without the comfort of the routine and predictability of school. And while she is thrilled to be out of school and free to do "whatever I want - whoo hoo!", I am trying to avert the incipient panic that always hits me when long stretches of unstructured time lie in front of us.
Transitions are hard for TKs. That's just a fact. And while they are not as hard as they were before, they are still hard. Transitioning from seeing your friends almost every day, having a structure, getting loved on by various teachers, and feeling successful at something to not having any of that is an abrupt shock to the system. And as we know (and if you don't, heed well), even good change is hard (which absolutely stinks, because it is so unfair that going on vacation guarantees a meltdown or two or thirty).
I admit I am setting myself up a bit. I know it, and I'm still doing it. Every year when school ends we have unlimited TV/computer/iPad for one week. Yes, this is not the best thing for a TK. It is both overstimulating and understimulating at the same time. Luckily TK gets bored with it so we intersperse it with trampoline (with Mom, of course), swimming (without Mom because the pool is still FREEZING), basketball, etc, so there is still some regulation through movement. So why, you ask, do I do it if I know it will discombobulate her? Because it makes the beginning of the transition easier. So when we are both floundering with the full stop of school, we get to have some space and time without being on top of each other. So yes, I will pay for it later, but in a week I'll be mentally ready (well,as ready as you ever are) for the drama. And I say that unashamedly....sometimes you are allowed to pick the path of least resistance. You can't be a hero every day, and that's okay.
We had an eventful start to our summer transition. A friend of ours with a Trauma Toddler (TT) had a child care crisis, and TK and I talked about how we could help. TK wanted us to babysit Fri (her first day off from school). I told her she'd have to get up early and she said we needed to do it, she understood him, she knew he was scared and she thought it would help if he was with us and not someone else. I was so proud of her. I told her I would have to lavish more attention on TT than on her, and she said okay. (I knew it wouldn't be that easy, but getting out of the comfort zone is a good thing as long as it is done carefully and knowing the aftermath is coming). Friday went well - she was so good with TT, and she was very pleased and proud of herself for sharing Mom. It was beautiful to see the compassion and grace coming from her. On to Friday night......a little aftermath. She had gymnastics and about 2/3 of the way through she came off the floor and said she needed to leave and started crying. So we left. When we got home, she sat next to me on the couch for 2 hours and snuggled while we watched TV. She ended up in my bed about 2 AM, which was not surprising. Not too bad so far, but I was pretty sure the storm was still brewing.
Sat AM (after an uneventful time at gymnastics) we went to Target to spend some birthday $ she had. She was a few cents short for what she wanted to buy. I asked her if she needed to ask me something (i.e., can I borrow 5 cents) but she said, "Never MIND!" and stomped over to the exit door. When we got to the car she started throwing things from the front seat to the back seat (these are the moments I need to remind myself that I am grateful she's not throwing them at me, but I didn't). I ditched Trauma Mama mode and went into Summer Panic mode. "I don't know what your problem is, but you can just get over your snit right now." (Imagine, that didn't work so well. Shocking, I know). I knew immediately I had not reacted in a regulated way that would make her feel understood and defuse things, but sometimes my brain just says, "Let's dance, Sister." We did regroup - she asked for a re-do as we left the library, and I said yes, of course. (I always say yes, but sometimes it takes me a good while to actually get to a re-do state). On the 25 minute ride home she was totally silent (not even Taylor Swift on the CD player, which is a rarity). I struggled to get into that place of compassion. After about 15 minutes, I took a deep mental breath and said, "I'm sorry you're upset. I wish I could just know what's in your head and your heart so I would know why you're upset, but I can't, so if you want me to know you have to tell me. If you don't want me to know, that's okay too. I love you." She didn't say anything, but about 5 minutes later she started talking about mundane stuff, so I knew we were back in regulation mode. Re-dos are definitely grace in action. They are so powerful, and so easy (and so hard) to do. I still don't know what was wrong. I am pretty certain the combo of trauma and puberty may put me in the loony bin, however.
A side note......when I mentioned to a group of friends that we were watching TT on Friday, they said things like, "Good, TK will get a taste of her own medicine." I did NOT use that opportunity for education. (I did later go into rant mode, though just in my head....."That is just ridiculous. Trauma is fear in action, not a 'I'm not getting my way so let me throw a tantrum' thing. Watching another kid have a trauma meltdown may be a cause for compassion and understanding but it is NOT a 'see how ridiculous you look when you do this' moment. There is no 'medicine' to be had here - there is just education and love.") It made me sad......obviously to them it's still a behavior issue and not a fear issue. I don't know how to convey that understanding. I'll keep working on that.
Give yourselves some extra grace for the summer, Trauma Mamas. It's most likely going to be a very bumpy ride. It's okay to take the easy way out sometimes, so give yourselves the permission to do that. Grab the small graces where you can. You're going to blow it - sometimes even on purpose. That's okay - give yourself a re-do when you need one. Only 77 days til school starts.......
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Happy Mother's Day - better yet, Happy Warrior's Day
As a trauma mama, I try to minimize holidays (except for the ones that center around Trauma Kid (TK), like her Gotcha Day and birthday). The high expectations around holidays almost guarantee a meltdown.
We made it through Mother's Day relatively unscathed......up to a point. The day started early....extra early if you count the two times she was up with nightmares and the 3 AM wander into my bed. I gave up and got up at 6; she soon followed. We had plans to try out a new church today, but she told me she wasn't ready so I let it go. I was doing my best to keep things on an even keel. We went to run a few errands and all was good (largely because the errands centered around spending HOURS shopping to spend her gift cards from her birthday party yesterday). After we got home she started crying. "Mom, I didn't ask anyone to take me shopping to get you something for Mother's Day. I didn't have a chance to get you anything." I told her honestly I would love a handwritten note more than a present. That seemed to work, but I could feel the ghost of tumult in the air.
We headed outside where I spent 3 hours bailing out the remaining water in the pool (because of course the drain is on the uphill side.....it was level when I put it up, but it settled the wrong way, of course), scrubbing off the algae and fishing out the 100 dead worms. This took longer than it should have since TK was on the trampoline with the sprinkler yelling, "Mom, watch this!" every 5 minutes. And I did. My goal was to keep that ghost of tumult in the neverworld, so I did my best to stay regulated and emotionally engaged.
Fast forward through a relatively calm evening to 8PM - 1/2 hour before bedtime. TK told me she would cook whatever I wanted, so what did I want. I told her I appreciated the offer, but wasn't really hungry. She stormed off to her room, where she upended almost everything in there. I knew I should follow her in, but I needed time to get regulated. Because yes, I was frustrated......REALLY frustrated. Why on earth is me not being hungry cause for a meltdown? (yeah, yeah, I know, rejection.....but SERIOUSLY!) I was exhausted, hurting (my fibromyalgia has been killing me the last two weeks, but I've been ignoring it and pushing through, because what choice is there?), and some small part of me still felt entitled to some sort of Mother's Day dispensation from trauma stuff. (I know, but a girl can dream.) I went in and apologized for hurting her feelings; she told me to "Get the hint and get out!", so I did. I know I should have followed up a few minutes later, letting her know I was still there, still loving her, but I didn't. To her credit, she came out about 15 minutes later, started banging pots and pans and told me she was making me something special. (It is now 10 mins before bedtime). She brought me a piece of bologna smothered (like 1/4" deep) in thyme and basil. I told her I loved the combo but it was a bit too herby for me, She snatched the plate from me, threw it in the sink (thank you, Lord, it didn't break). To my surprise, she made me a new one (oh goody) with less herbs on it. (Luckily the cats were nearby and are big fans of bologna!) I told her it was past bedtime and to get herself ready. More banging, more tossing of things into the sink, and a slammed door from TK. More sighing and praying for patience from me.
I waited a few minutes, trying (and failing) to get myself into a regulated compassionate state. When I got in her room, I asked if she wanted help picking up all the things on the floor (including the pillow and the blanket). "What do YOU think? Does it LOOK like I want them on my bed?" Flip goes my switch (mental dialogue epic fail - "Happy mother's day my foot. Thanks for spending hours taking me shopping, mom. Thanks for cleaning the pool in 90 degrees so I can swim next week". The only grace I mustered at that point was not saying it out loud. Meager, I grant you, but I'm still claiming it.) I left her room, told her I'd be back when she was ready to be nice, and went out to fold laundry and sulk (sad but true). She wandered out about 10 minutes later, tear stained and sniffling. "Are you going to read to me?" So I did. She told me she was upset that I didn't ask her what was wrong. She's right, I didn't. I assumed she was angry about my rejecting her food offer. But I didn't ask, and there was probably something else going on. So epic fail on my part. I asked her then, but it was too late. She had decided I didn't care and was going to stay in that place.
After I read I told her I loved her face and everything attached to it, and she giggled a little. Then I patted her and kissed her and she fell asleep.
I'm not sure how to sum it up, other than to reiterate how much I hate holidays. There were some sweet moments, some epic failures (largely on my part) and some small graces (like giggles at bedtime). And after we get through her birthday this week, we have a break until we wade the murky sea of Father's Day (always a challenge when you don't have one). That is, of course, ignoring the end of school, the change in routine, the "what do I do" of summer (but if I start to think about that now I will hyperventilate, so I'm choosing to ignore it).
Happy Mother's Day, Trauma Mamas. I hope you got through your day with larger graces than I; if not, grab those small ones and hold on tight.
We need another, quiet day, with no expectations, no pressure, and NO DRAMA! We'll call it Warrior Day. I declare it to be tomorrow. So take some time tomorrow to appreciate you, mighty warrior, fighting this fight for your TK, going to the mat day after day, rising above your own traumas to conquer theirs, and always, always, choosing the greatest weapon of all - love.
You are all my heroes, and you are your TK's heroes. Find the grace in knowing you are exactly what your TK needs. No matter how badly you blow it, they feel the love under it all, and that is enough.
Wake up tomorrow and tell yourself happy Warrior Day!
We made it through Mother's Day relatively unscathed......up to a point. The day started early....extra early if you count the two times she was up with nightmares and the 3 AM wander into my bed. I gave up and got up at 6; she soon followed. We had plans to try out a new church today, but she told me she wasn't ready so I let it go. I was doing my best to keep things on an even keel. We went to run a few errands and all was good (largely because the errands centered around spending HOURS shopping to spend her gift cards from her birthday party yesterday). After we got home she started crying. "Mom, I didn't ask anyone to take me shopping to get you something for Mother's Day. I didn't have a chance to get you anything." I told her honestly I would love a handwritten note more than a present. That seemed to work, but I could feel the ghost of tumult in the air.
We headed outside where I spent 3 hours bailing out the remaining water in the pool (because of course the drain is on the uphill side.....it was level when I put it up, but it settled the wrong way, of course), scrubbing off the algae and fishing out the 100 dead worms. This took longer than it should have since TK was on the trampoline with the sprinkler yelling, "Mom, watch this!" every 5 minutes. And I did. My goal was to keep that ghost of tumult in the neverworld, so I did my best to stay regulated and emotionally engaged.
Fast forward through a relatively calm evening to 8PM - 1/2 hour before bedtime. TK told me she would cook whatever I wanted, so what did I want. I told her I appreciated the offer, but wasn't really hungry. She stormed off to her room, where she upended almost everything in there. I knew I should follow her in, but I needed time to get regulated. Because yes, I was frustrated......REALLY frustrated. Why on earth is me not being hungry cause for a meltdown? (yeah, yeah, I know, rejection.....but SERIOUSLY!) I was exhausted, hurting (my fibromyalgia has been killing me the last two weeks, but I've been ignoring it and pushing through, because what choice is there?), and some small part of me still felt entitled to some sort of Mother's Day dispensation from trauma stuff. (I know, but a girl can dream.) I went in and apologized for hurting her feelings; she told me to "Get the hint and get out!", so I did. I know I should have followed up a few minutes later, letting her know I was still there, still loving her, but I didn't. To her credit, she came out about 15 minutes later, started banging pots and pans and told me she was making me something special. (It is now 10 mins before bedtime). She brought me a piece of bologna smothered (like 1/4" deep) in thyme and basil. I told her I loved the combo but it was a bit too herby for me, She snatched the plate from me, threw it in the sink (thank you, Lord, it didn't break). To my surprise, she made me a new one (oh goody) with less herbs on it. (Luckily the cats were nearby and are big fans of bologna!) I told her it was past bedtime and to get herself ready. More banging, more tossing of things into the sink, and a slammed door from TK. More sighing and praying for patience from me.
I waited a few minutes, trying (and failing) to get myself into a regulated compassionate state. When I got in her room, I asked if she wanted help picking up all the things on the floor (including the pillow and the blanket). "What do YOU think? Does it LOOK like I want them on my bed?" Flip goes my switch (mental dialogue epic fail - "Happy mother's day my foot. Thanks for spending hours taking me shopping, mom. Thanks for cleaning the pool in 90 degrees so I can swim next week". The only grace I mustered at that point was not saying it out loud. Meager, I grant you, but I'm still claiming it.) I left her room, told her I'd be back when she was ready to be nice, and went out to fold laundry and sulk (sad but true). She wandered out about 10 minutes later, tear stained and sniffling. "Are you going to read to me?" So I did. She told me she was upset that I didn't ask her what was wrong. She's right, I didn't. I assumed she was angry about my rejecting her food offer. But I didn't ask, and there was probably something else going on. So epic fail on my part. I asked her then, but it was too late. She had decided I didn't care and was going to stay in that place.
After I read I told her I loved her face and everything attached to it, and she giggled a little. Then I patted her and kissed her and she fell asleep.
I'm not sure how to sum it up, other than to reiterate how much I hate holidays. There were some sweet moments, some epic failures (largely on my part) and some small graces (like giggles at bedtime). And after we get through her birthday this week, we have a break until we wade the murky sea of Father's Day (always a challenge when you don't have one). That is, of course, ignoring the end of school, the change in routine, the "what do I do" of summer (but if I start to think about that now I will hyperventilate, so I'm choosing to ignore it).
Happy Mother's Day, Trauma Mamas. I hope you got through your day with larger graces than I; if not, grab those small ones and hold on tight.
We need another, quiet day, with no expectations, no pressure, and NO DRAMA! We'll call it Warrior Day. I declare it to be tomorrow. So take some time tomorrow to appreciate you, mighty warrior, fighting this fight for your TK, going to the mat day after day, rising above your own traumas to conquer theirs, and always, always, choosing the greatest weapon of all - love.
You are all my heroes, and you are your TK's heroes. Find the grace in knowing you are exactly what your TK needs. No matter how badly you blow it, they feel the love under it all, and that is enough.
Wake up tomorrow and tell yourself happy Warrior Day!
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