Coming to Peace...

I am slowly coming to peace with some choices we have had to make. From my viewpoint, we were presented with several options, none of which I liked. The only option I did actually like, is not an option. No go, off the table. Nothing I can do will make it an option at this point. So I sat down with my other options, and weighed out the pros and cons of each. The problem is, that most of the options I felt I could live with, had huge cons for myself and beloved husband. Probably the kind of cons that would have us checking into a double occupancy rubber room. The options that "worked" in any way for us and the family as a whole, seemed to not work for one of our especially challenging children. I have been circling, and researching, and filling out forms, and scratching my head. I have had endless emails and phone calls. Every night I have gone to bed discouraged and restless, but each morning I have awoken full of resolve to make the right choice, regardless of the cost.

The funny thing is this. Every time I would get going in a track, and would be getting excited about the possibilities, something would come to light regarding this challenging child. Something that would stop me in my tracks, and make me question the track I was currently on. Again and again it has happened, to the point that I am able to predict that if I get an energizing phone call or email, I will also get news of some wonky behavior within the hour. It might be new wonky behavior, or just old stuff coming to light. But invariably, the new awareness always seems to put the current proposed course of action in serious question.

The other morning we were dealing with wonky, and it just came over me, that we should not change anything at all. That we were to just stay the current course, even though it has all the earmarks of failure. That's the thing...no matter what we try, once the novelty has been wrung out of it, it always begins to look like failure. And like any parent, adoptive or otherwise, I start to put things under the microscope and look for alternatives. What am I doing wrong? What do I need to change? How can I rally the resources to make the needed change?

The other day I was visiting with a missionary friend, who is currently contemplating change, and had been really unsettled about what course she should take. She was so afraid that she would go her own way, and miss God's will, that she was actually propelling herself toward that which was hardest, and even most distasteful to her, in fear of shirking the difficult call. In a time of intense prayer, a friend told her they felt impressed by God to ask her, "What do you want to do?" This was so shocking to her system, that her reaction was actually physical.

I felt, the other morning, in the midst of chaos, that same impression. "What do you want to do?" I realized I didn't want to do anything at all. I wanted to stay the course we had begun, in spite of the fact that on many levels it appears to have failed. I realized that I was willing to make a change, even a change that would cost me dearly, but that my willingness was not confirmation that change should occur. I also realized that every bit of what appeared to be failure, had nothing to do with me or my choices. It had nothing to do with me shirking hard work, or my willingness to love or serve my daughter, or the rest of my family.

Most, if not all, of the failure results from my daughter's inability to make good choices for herself. It isn't even for me to try and sort out how much blame should sit on her shoulders, or how much of it she is led to by her traumatic history. I just know it doesn't rest on my shoulders. Not that I don't feel the weight of it. I do. And I am willing to continue helping to carry that weight, as any mother, adoptive or otherwise, would.

And anyhow, I'm getting used to this looking like failure gig. I realize that what looks like success in so many young people is just smoke and mirrors, and what looks like failure is often the building blocks for something real and good. I'm willing to bet on that, even though at times it's hard to believe in.

What I Hate About "Fundraising"

I detest typical fundraising efforts. I hate to send my children out to peddle stuff. My least favorite type of fundraiser goes something like this:

• My child is sent home with a catalog and order form for some overpriced luxury item like candles or candy.
• They are expected to make the rounds of our closest family, friends, and neighbors to sell their wares.
• They are expected to collect money by a prescribed date, and turn it in with properly filled out forms.
• They then receive a small portion of the sales towards their "fund".

This is how it really goes:

• I have to nag my children to go peddle their wares, because they feel uncomfortable doing it, and because they have other far more interesting things to do with their time.
• I have to keep track of order forms and money, because, HELLO, these are children here. As a rule, when people fork over money, they don't expect it to end up in the black hole of my son's bedroom.
• We rapidly run out of customers because:

1. We live in the boonies.
2. We don't live near extended family.
3. We have several children in the family competing for the same customer base.
4. We associate with people who don't have a lot of extra money, and aren't interested in spending it on overpriced trinkets.

I think these fundraisers are evil because they put pressure on kids and families to do something that makes them fundamentally uncomfortable. Furthermore, they don't encourage kids to actually work toward their goal, because really all they do is make the request and collect the cash. Mom usually does all the real work of managing the project and distributing the goods. Plus, most of the time, the smallest part of the profit goes to your cause. All along the way, others are getting their piece of the pie.

The only type of fundraising I actually approve, is when a kid works hard to provide a service or product that people actually want. It should be presented in a manner that puts no pressure on the potential customer. I like bake sales and car washes, because all the profits go to the cause, and no one feels strong armed into pulling over and submitting to having their car washed. Generally the same is true of bake sales, as the goods are fairly priced, and you are free to walk on past, if the sight of fudge brownies doesn't compromise you.

Lots of folks have the cockles of their hearts warmed at the sight of hard working young people, willing to give their time and energy to a cause or goal. Those folks often generously say, "Keep the change," or drop cash into a donation bucket, even if they don't have a car to wash or want a sweet. But no one put pressure on them to do it. They didn't feel taken advantage of, when their $20 box of caramels arrived, and they realized it fit on the palm of their hand. Sure looked bigger in the catalog.

I also admire people who train to do something HARD, like run a marathon, or jump on a pogo stick 10,000 times, to raise money for worthy causes. Really, they are just straight up asking you to give. They're saying, "This is important enough to me, that I'm willing to do something potentially painful to make it happen. Will you help me?" And I can respect that, because I can say yes or no as I'm able, and anyone who is strong enough to run a marathon, can deal with me saying no. But those candle and candy companies bank on the notion that cute little kids, with sad puppy dog eyes, are impossible to say no to, and that's just slippery in my opinion. Not admirable in the least.

I'm undecided about dinners. I think if you provide a nice meal, maybe some quality entertainment, and a presentation of the goal, it can be quite good. But I've been to a few sad pasta dinners and chicken barbecues, where I felt the value was just not there, and I didn't really care if the cause was worthy. People who fork over the cash for benefit dinners are honored guests. I think they should be treated as such, even if the fare is simple.

I realize I've used words like HATE, DETEST, and EVIL in this post. Clearly I feel strongly about this matter. I suppose that qualifies this as a rant. My son will be so proud. He loves a good rant.

An Essay

"Children obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. 'Honor your father and mother,' which is the first commandment with a promise: 'that it may be well with you and you may live long on the earth.' " Ephesians 6:1-3

"The eye that mocks a father, that scorns obedience to a mother, will be pecked out by the ravens of the valley, will be eaten by the vultures." Proverbs 30:17

These have been part of an ongoing writing assignment for one of my children. In addition to writing the verses many, many times, they were also expected to write an essay sharing their thoughts regarding obedience to the authorities God has placed over us. Of course we all memorized the first verse as children, and quote it regularly to our own children. The second is slightly less widely memorized and quoted, yet the message is not lost on a girl who lives where there is lots and lots of roadkill. She knows that dying by the side of the road means that the crows will eat you. After some discussion, she understood that disobedience doesn't necessarily strike you dead, but that a life of honor and obedience comes with a promise, and likewise, so does a life of dishonor and disobedience.

It took about a week of dishonor and disobedience to finally get to the place where she completed the copying part of her assignment. It should have taken no more than two days. I reminded her that she needed to write her essay. She pretty much told me where I could go with my essay. It was in this climate of anger, more than a week out from any discussion about the verses, that she began to write. I am amazed at the result. I will share in her very own words, that you may be amazed as well. I will add that although I will edit very slightly for spelling, this essay was well written in neat, pretty cursive, with little need for the red marking pen.

I think that disobedience will get you nowhere but in a broken down house somewhere. Which would lead to you smoking, and doing drugs, and drinking. This will also lead to you being sexually active and having kids that you don't want. Your kids will be like you. You will also be in and out of jail for getting in trouble with the law. Which is pretty bad. You will be sick and will look pretty bad and ugly. This will lead to you dying somewhere on the side of the road. And if somebody found you they probably wouldn't know who you were.

I think obedience will lead to you having a good life. You will get a good education. You will go to college and get a good job. You will get married and have kids that will be healthy and very obedient. Which will be great. They will have good friends and be good students at school. They won't be in and out of jail. You will live long in a nice home with a nice family. When you died there would be lots of nice people that knew you that would come to your funeral.

I think we should all go for obedience, because you will get a lot further in life with it. We should all go for obedience which would be a great choice. You won't have a bad life.

Flowers For....Me

In the last couple of weeks we have painted through our entire new house, moved into it, cleaned and polished up the old place. We broke down the goat pen and moved it, and cleaned up and reseeded the area where the pen used to sit. We've attended concerts, and dinners, and closing programs. We've had dress rehearsals for dance recitals, and graduation parties to attend. We've also dealt with cheating and lying, physical defiance and restraints. Life has been tipped upside down a bit, and attachment disordered children don't like that. Neither do attached children, or Moms or Dads for that matter.

In the midst of all this, I have been working on putting in flower beds. I don't really have the time, but I do it anyhow. I do it for me, and pretty much that's all. My house faces a deserted dirt road, that might see two cars a day, so no one will be commenting on how nice my yard looks. Beloved wanders out occasionally and cheers me on, but he would happily live in a weed patch. Nobody else in my family cares one bit about the landscaping, with the possible exception of Hippie Boy, who is currently having a love affair with a pretty orange Husquvarna push mower that he calls "his baby". Technically it was my Mother's Day gift a few years ago, but whatever. I don't really mind that my mower is cheating on me with my son.

And while he mows his little heart out, any day the weather permits, I try to get outdoors and weed, mulch, plant. Today I filled five buckets with black gold, otherwise known as my own special compost mix. It's a blend of goat manure and decomposing hay, aged for up to seven years, so rich you might be tempted to eat it with a spoon. Well, maybe not, but my plants eat it up. I turned it over into my beds, and planted my flowers, cradling them in their carefully dug holes, or in the flower boxes on my porch.

Last month was my birthday, and a friend sent me a gift. Although her husband had recently lost his job, and she was up to her eyeballs in her own challenges, she remembered that it was my birthday, and she took the time to send me a card, write me a note, and send me the dough with instructions to get a treat, just for me. For a month I have been wondering what I should buy, just for me. Last weekend I knew it was flowers; beautiful, cheerful, pink and blue flowers. I know they have fancy names, but to me, all summer, they will be my Coreyflowers.

In the midst of the crazy I will head out to my unremarked upon front yard, and pull weeds and pluck spent blossoms. I will do it just for me, and I will look at the delicate faces of my Coreyflowers and I will think of my RADmom friends. I will hope and pray that they are finding a moment of peace in their crazy days.

Community

A few thoughts on community. A friend recently expressed, that it is hard to live in community. Amen, and you ain't kidding sister! The hardest people you'll ever live with, are the people you live with. I was thinking about this today, as I was mulling over my daughter's attachment challenges. Being pretty classically attachment disordered, she seeks superficial interactions, and spurns anything deeper, more long-standing, anything that holds her accountable. In her muddled fantasy world, people are always fun. They always talk in that high pitched voice that adults reserve for young children they have just met. They always have treats for you, or plans to take you to a playground or fast food restaurant. They never stick around for more than an hour or two. They never show up more than once a week. They are always charmed by your cuteness, or at least pretend to be. This, in her mind, is the ideal relationship...and of course anyone who has experienced a healthy relationship would immediately see the problem with this opinion. It isn't a relationship. Real people, in real relationships spend time together, getting to know one another in a variety of situations. Generally this leads to seeing one another in less than favorable lights at times. And that's okay, because the people who know us and love us, warts and all, are the people that generally stick with us through the tough times, and rejoice with us when we experience success. In other words, you tough it out at times, but the payoff can be pretty big. But my daughter hasn't ever experienced this. To her, instant payoff in the form of a trinket or treat, outweighs the need to work at relationship to experience deeper joy. I find this tremendously sad.

Another thing I've been thinking about, is kind of related. I have a several friends who have adopted older, attachment challenged children. I notice a theme in so many of the conversations we have had over the course of time. There is such a craving for community. I ask myself why. These are strong willed, talented adults. They're not the sorts that would ever have trouble making friends or influencing people. So why do they exist as islands, craving community and fellowship? I believe it is because the course of their lives have taken them down a lonely, isolated road. They thought they knew where it was leading, but then they found themselves so far out in the boonies, that there was no cell phone reception. Wait, that's where I actually live...but I think you can understand that I'm using a metaphor.

So what do you do about it? I see people do a variety of things. Some people venture into town, and try really hard to fit in. They mostly do this by pretending that their lives are like everyone else's. They hide all the trauma and hooey that goes on behind closed doors, and in the end, they feel more alone and even more traumatized. Some people go with the open book model. They try and explain what their lives are like, in the hope that they would have the chance to educate people, and maintain community with the folks they used to connect with so well. Often this results in trauma as well, since those folks are polite, but frequently form opinions that have nothing to do with our reality. And of course they would. It's like trying to explain to someone what it's like to live on Mars. They form their opinions based on their experience of living on Earth. I can't blame them for that, but it does make me cranky at times.

In the end, most of us just end up living in the isolation, whether we like it or not. We get tired of trying to fit into a world that no longer fits us anymore. We grieve for our loss. We say things like, "I just want a normal life..." or "For a minute, it almost felt like we were a normal family..." or "I just want my life back." I've said them all. And while we grieve, we cry out for community, because we are so lonely. Our lives are hard, and I don't say that to whine. They just are. Day in and day out, you learn to eat disappointment. There are victories, large and small, but they are bought at great price.

This is where I'm getting to be at. I say that, because it's a very slow process. This is what I tell myself every day. When I adopted older, traumatized children I kissed normal goodbye. I brought mental illness into my home voluntarily, and I said I was ready to deal with that, and I was so deluded. There isn't a class on this Earth (or Mars for that matter) that can prepare you for that. I have been to the depths of discouragement, and grief, and anger. But here's the weird thing. I really don't want normal, no matter how much I might whine and cry about it. And I'm pretty happy with my life. I used to get all worked up about stupid, inconsequential, selfish things. I used to be weak. I used to be ruled by my emotions. I still am...but I am less so, and I believe that is a good thing. My children are really tough, but I care what happens to them, and I believe that is a good thing. I have some friends who are traveling this lonesome road, and though we don't always physically travel together, I know I don't go it alone. It is enough for me, and I am grateful.

A Thought

"The demand to know where we are going is one which no Christian has a right to make. In a very real sense we do not know where we are going, but we are trying to meet day by day the plain requirements of God's will."

~Bishop Newbigin 1909-1998

In a Word...

OK. Two of my Orlando Angels have posted this, and given orders to do it. I am nothing if not obedient. By the way, I know I broke the one word rule with ice cream... but I didn't want to lie.

Hair – troublesome
Your Mother – sputtering
Your Father – puttering
Fav Food – ice cream
Dream Last Night – forgotten
Fav Drink – coffee
What room are you in? – living
Hobby – writing
Fear – cowardice
Where were you last night? – home
Something that you aren’t – patient
Muffins – pumpkin
Wish List Item – solitude
Where you grew up – MA
What you are wearing – socks
Your Pet – many
Friends – cherished
Something you’re not wearing – shoes
Fav Store – grocery
Fav Color – red
Last time you laughed – now
Your Best Friend – husband
Best Place you go over and over – Disney
Person who you email regularly – BJ
Fav place to eat - home

I know this is the part where I'm supposed to tag folks. Just comment and tell me you did it so I can enjoy what you wrote.