This coming Saturday it will be 4 weeks since luv came to live with us.
Maybe some of you are wondering...how is it going? The answer to that is better than expected. Maybe we are negative people, but we decided to prepare for the worst. That way, we wouldn't be shocked and dissapointed when she showed us her other side.
If you have been to any adoption classes, you will recognize the saying, "honeymoon period."
We aren't quite sure if she is in the honeymoon period still, or if that time is coming.
I'm trying to be positive, to look on the bright side, to see the good before the bad. And it does help. So, if I seem to only rave on about good things and give everyone a false sense of how things are going, I apologize.
We have had our ups and downs. But we started seeing some challenging behaviors prior to her being placed. We think the last foster home had a lot to do with that. Having four other little girls her age who throw tantrums and pitch fits all day every day, has to have a little bit to do with it, don't you think?
On her last couple of visits before moving down her permanently, we saw her attitude change, and she began testing us. Her last visit even had a mini meltdown.
Some say that because our transition took soooooo long, that she moved right over the honeymoon period and right into being her real self.
I see a definite pattern. It seems to build up in her and she seems to need the release of a tantrum or meltdown at least once a week. Compared to some stories, hers are fairly mild, but they do cause a disruption in the household to be sure.
We had to have her held back too. She is basically on target with reading, but math is her biggest challenge. She has areas in math where she dips down into the first grade level. Luckily, we have her enrolled in a charter school, where they take the time to work with kiddos. She is now in the 2nd grade. When she moved we tried her in 3rd grade because we were told to....lol.
I visited the class yesterday to bring cupcakes for luv's birthday and she didn't see that I arrived early. I was allowed to sit in the back of the class and observe.
I like the teacher and she seemed to have a much better fit into this classroom. Since luv is on the smaller side, and younger too, this is the best place for her. They will be taking her aside and working with her on the math, finding the areas she is missing, and catching her back up.
In the meantime, she is making friends and seems to like it there.
Last night we had a fun night of dancing in the dark with her new flashing light toys and singing before bed.
In her good moments we find joy.
And there really are alot more good moments than bad.
better than expected.
lovelygirl and me
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
the many facets of luv
We are finding that a child from hard places, ie the foster system, can have many faces.
Our luv is no exception.
She has learned to wear many faces throughout her young life.
Sometimes, she is a tough cookie. She had to be to survive those early years of trauma and neglect. When we took her to school on her first day, she appeared to be nonplussed; no fear. I asked her if she was nervous and she just shrugged.
In the animal world, to show weakness at all is a life or death challenge. If you are walking around limping, you could become easy prey.
It is much the same for our luv.
Somewhere, hidden behind the mask, there is a scared little girl. She feels she needs to show the world her tough side, instead of her vulnerable side. Or the mean people in the world could victimize her.
Sometimes, she has that faraway look on her face, her thoughts are dwelling on her past. A mild form of disassociation. If you talk to her, you can snap her out of it, but in the meantime, she is thinking of things and people who are no longer in her life.
Spacing out. To the world, she is just spacing out. But in her most secret thoughts, she does replays in her mind's eye.
Yesterday, she suddenly told me that when she was younger, and wet her pants, her real mom would spank her..sometimes with a belt and other times with a wire hanger. She hasn't really been with her real mom since she was about 4 or so.
But it is vividly clear in her mind. The memories that can haunt our damaged children.
Another face is the face of fear.
We see clear evidence that she has been abused. If she is acting up, we have learned we cannot make sudden moves, or even raise our hand to rub our forehead without her cringing, and shrinking away. Even if we are 5 feet away!
This breaks my heart of course! We are learning to move slowly when she is in those modes where she is testing us. Slow movements. No raising our hands even to scratch our own noses. No walking near her if she is laying on the floor, she thinks we will kick her. How awful is that!
We take so many things for granted, and now are trying very hard to look through the eyes of an 8 year old girl who suffered neglect, abuse and trauma.
She watches us like hawks. Hyper-vigilent at times. It can be un-nerving at times. Being judged constantly by a small child, let me tell you!
Her first thoughts always run on the negative side. She is just sure that when you are reaching to get your drink, that just happens to be next to the remote, that you are going to grab it and change the channel on her.
She has her softer sides. She can be such a sweet heart.
Last night we made biscuits. I let her do most of it, just supervised. She looked so cute in the old apron my grandma used to wear, standing on the stool so she could stir...ever so carefully...the dough.
She saved enough dough at the end to make 3 heart shaped biscuits, and when we set the table, she placed on on each of our plates. "These are for Mommy and Daddy and Me!" My big helper. :o)
Like a diamond in the rough, it is up to us to see the potential within, and help her see it as well. Teaching her to whittle away at the imperfections, so she can shine from within.
She is a diamond.
With many facets.
Some, we have seen, and others we have yet to see. They all make up the unique person she is. The lovelgirl we are learning to love.
the many facets of love. the many facets of luv.
Our luv is no exception.
She has learned to wear many faces throughout her young life.
Sometimes, she is a tough cookie. She had to be to survive those early years of trauma and neglect. When we took her to school on her first day, she appeared to be nonplussed; no fear. I asked her if she was nervous and she just shrugged.
In the animal world, to show weakness at all is a life or death challenge. If you are walking around limping, you could become easy prey.
It is much the same for our luv.
Somewhere, hidden behind the mask, there is a scared little girl. She feels she needs to show the world her tough side, instead of her vulnerable side. Or the mean people in the world could victimize her.
Sometimes, she has that faraway look on her face, her thoughts are dwelling on her past. A mild form of disassociation. If you talk to her, you can snap her out of it, but in the meantime, she is thinking of things and people who are no longer in her life.
Spacing out. To the world, she is just spacing out. But in her most secret thoughts, she does replays in her mind's eye.
Yesterday, she suddenly told me that when she was younger, and wet her pants, her real mom would spank her..sometimes with a belt and other times with a wire hanger. She hasn't really been with her real mom since she was about 4 or so.
But it is vividly clear in her mind. The memories that can haunt our damaged children.
Another face is the face of fear.
We see clear evidence that she has been abused. If she is acting up, we have learned we cannot make sudden moves, or even raise our hand to rub our forehead without her cringing, and shrinking away. Even if we are 5 feet away!
This breaks my heart of course! We are learning to move slowly when she is in those modes where she is testing us. Slow movements. No raising our hands even to scratch our own noses. No walking near her if she is laying on the floor, she thinks we will kick her. How awful is that!
We take so many things for granted, and now are trying very hard to look through the eyes of an 8 year old girl who suffered neglect, abuse and trauma.
She watches us like hawks. Hyper-vigilent at times. It can be un-nerving at times. Being judged constantly by a small child, let me tell you!
Her first thoughts always run on the negative side. She is just sure that when you are reaching to get your drink, that just happens to be next to the remote, that you are going to grab it and change the channel on her.
She has her softer sides. She can be such a sweet heart.
Last night we made biscuits. I let her do most of it, just supervised. She looked so cute in the old apron my grandma used to wear, standing on the stool so she could stir...ever so carefully...the dough.
She saved enough dough at the end to make 3 heart shaped biscuits, and when we set the table, she placed on on each of our plates. "These are for Mommy and Daddy and Me!" My big helper. :o)
Like a diamond in the rough, it is up to us to see the potential within, and help her see it as well. Teaching her to whittle away at the imperfections, so she can shine from within.
She is a diamond.
With many facets.
Some, we have seen, and others we have yet to see. They all make up the unique person she is. The lovelgirl we are learning to love.
the many facets of love. the many facets of luv.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Getting and Letting Go
So many changes in her young life.
In just one year she was in at least three separate foster homes, three different schools, and went from being a "foster child" to a "adoption placement child."
How will she cope?
Today she is in her new classroom, with a new teacher, and new classmates. Her first day at her new school. One friendly face awaited her. "S", her new BFF. They both share similar backgrounds. They both are A/A. They both were foster kids.
Those shared experiences should help forge the way to a long and deep friendship. I am thankful for "S,"
Lovelygirl is behind in schoolwork. With all the moves she has had to make, it's no wonder.
I set her clock radio/alarm clock for 6:45 am. Hanging on her door is her new schedule. A checklist of things to do in the morning to get ready for school. Get dressed, eat breakfast, let me help her with her hair...etc.
I waited to see what would happen, half expecting to have to go in and get her out of bed. Half expecting trouble.
Nope! The light under her closed door let me know that she was up. I heard rustling sounds, and decided to let her get ready. She came out of her room all dressed. So pretty in her new outfit that Grandma "V" got her. She never argued once about anything this morning, much to my relief! When we headed out the door, I praised her for doing so well this morning.
Carrying in her stuff, I thought back to my boys and all the "first day of schools" we had throughout the years. A melancholy feeling washed over me. Lovelygirl will be our last child to go through school. Our "first school day" adventures with her are the last ones we will go through.
As she unpacked her stuff into her school desk, several kids were around her, including "S." The "new girl" in class. She was smiling. I pray that she will do well in school. That she will make friends and learn to play nice, and not get into trouble. I pray she doesn't alienate "S," they need each other for years to come.
We have had her for ten whole days now, our daughter. Ten days.
We got her. And now we have to start letting go.
It's the way life is.
The difference between this and my biological children is that I knew them well. I had some sense of how they would do in school and in life. I had all their history with them, from the day they were born. I knew they would do well.
With lovelygirl, I don't have that past with her. We face uncertain days, because I don't really "know" her yet. I don't know how she will do each day. She comes from a hazy past, we only know some things about her. I can't just trust that we taught her well, and she will rely on those teachings to go about living life. We just don't know.
And yet, I can't control every move she makes. I have to allow her to breathe. I have to let go, if it is just for the day. Or she won't learn. She won't grow.
So here's to first days.
Letting go.
In just one year she was in at least three separate foster homes, three different schools, and went from being a "foster child" to a "adoption placement child."
How will she cope?
Today she is in her new classroom, with a new teacher, and new classmates. Her first day at her new school. One friendly face awaited her. "S", her new BFF. They both share similar backgrounds. They both are A/A. They both were foster kids.
Those shared experiences should help forge the way to a long and deep friendship. I am thankful for "S,"
Lovelygirl is behind in schoolwork. With all the moves she has had to make, it's no wonder.
I set her clock radio/alarm clock for 6:45 am. Hanging on her door is her new schedule. A checklist of things to do in the morning to get ready for school. Get dressed, eat breakfast, let me help her with her hair...etc.
I waited to see what would happen, half expecting to have to go in and get her out of bed. Half expecting trouble.
Nope! The light under her closed door let me know that she was up. I heard rustling sounds, and decided to let her get ready. She came out of her room all dressed. So pretty in her new outfit that Grandma "V" got her. She never argued once about anything this morning, much to my relief! When we headed out the door, I praised her for doing so well this morning.
Carrying in her stuff, I thought back to my boys and all the "first day of schools" we had throughout the years. A melancholy feeling washed over me. Lovelygirl will be our last child to go through school. Our "first school day" adventures with her are the last ones we will go through.
As she unpacked her stuff into her school desk, several kids were around her, including "S." The "new girl" in class. She was smiling. I pray that she will do well in school. That she will make friends and learn to play nice, and not get into trouble. I pray she doesn't alienate "S," they need each other for years to come.
We have had her for ten whole days now, our daughter. Ten days.
We got her. And now we have to start letting go.
It's the way life is.
The difference between this and my biological children is that I knew them well. I had some sense of how they would do in school and in life. I had all their history with them, from the day they were born. I knew they would do well.
With lovelygirl, I don't have that past with her. We face uncertain days, because I don't really "know" her yet. I don't know how she will do each day. She comes from a hazy past, we only know some things about her. I can't just trust that we taught her well, and she will rely on those teachings to go about living life. We just don't know.
And yet, I can't control every move she makes. I have to allow her to breathe. I have to let go, if it is just for the day. Or she won't learn. She won't grow.
So here's to first days.
Letting go.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Two Green Totes
Two green totes.
Her entire world, past and present, consisted of two green totes.
Their contents tell a story. A story of loss, of betrayal, and of neglect. In those two totes, all her worldly possessions are passed along with her. From place to place, house to house. Some contents have been removed...likely clothes that she outgrew, and toys that were broken...or taken, and kept by foster parents who felt they deserved to have them.
On Saturday, my hubby drove up to Washington to pick up lovelygirl for the last time. They met him out at Burger King. The transfer place. The end of one world and the beginning of another. Only her foster dad came. It was a fast transfer. He took out the two green totes and my hubby put them in our rig. She had a backpack as well, with her school stuff in it.
And that was it.
It took all of 15 minutes. One minute she was a foster child, living in a temporary foster home, and the next minute she was ours. She briefly hugged him, the temporary man who was her temporary foster father. She didn't look back. Buckled securely in her pink booster car seat, she headed for home. Beside her: two green totes.
She is home now. Her two green totes sit in her bedroom. It's up to her to decide how long she wants them to remain there. To her, their presence is more than just plastic bins to hold her stuff. To her, they represent her life. All eight years of it. So, she needs to feel comfortable enough to take her belongings out and put them away in her room.
Yesterday, she made a comment, "It feels like I am still just visiting."
A great many meanings in that small statement. She doesn't feel like it's real yet. She doesn't know if its forever yet. She doesn't know if this place is safe enough to mix her little world with ours. To merge her belongings with her new ones.
I see that some things have made their way out of the boxes. A few dolls, and the cards that her classmates gave her on her going away party. One day, she will decide that this is her world, and she can throw away the totes for good. For her sake, I hope it is soon. But, as long as she needs them; the two green totes will stay put.
We are so happy to have our little girl here finally! To have the house echo with giggles and laughter, and squeals as she plays with her kitty, Rosie, and her toys. We took the doggies to the park yesterday and walked them, and she played on the slides and merry go rounds.
And she yelled, "Look Mommy, look!" as she went round and round. My heart is full. Full enough to get us past the rough times ahead. Past the tantrums, and testing she might have. And full enough to have the patience to wait for a little girl to be ready to unpack...
Her two green totes.
Her entire world, past and present, consisted of two green totes.
Their contents tell a story. A story of loss, of betrayal, and of neglect. In those two totes, all her worldly possessions are passed along with her. From place to place, house to house. Some contents have been removed...likely clothes that she outgrew, and toys that were broken...or taken, and kept by foster parents who felt they deserved to have them.
On Saturday, my hubby drove up to Washington to pick up lovelygirl for the last time. They met him out at Burger King. The transfer place. The end of one world and the beginning of another. Only her foster dad came. It was a fast transfer. He took out the two green totes and my hubby put them in our rig. She had a backpack as well, with her school stuff in it.
And that was it.
It took all of 15 minutes. One minute she was a foster child, living in a temporary foster home, and the next minute she was ours. She briefly hugged him, the temporary man who was her temporary foster father. She didn't look back. Buckled securely in her pink booster car seat, she headed for home. Beside her: two green totes.
She is home now. Her two green totes sit in her bedroom. It's up to her to decide how long she wants them to remain there. To her, their presence is more than just plastic bins to hold her stuff. To her, they represent her life. All eight years of it. So, she needs to feel comfortable enough to take her belongings out and put them away in her room.
Yesterday, she made a comment, "It feels like I am still just visiting."
A great many meanings in that small statement. She doesn't feel like it's real yet. She doesn't know if its forever yet. She doesn't know if this place is safe enough to mix her little world with ours. To merge her belongings with her new ones.
I see that some things have made their way out of the boxes. A few dolls, and the cards that her classmates gave her on her going away party. One day, she will decide that this is her world, and she can throw away the totes for good. For her sake, I hope it is soon. But, as long as she needs them; the two green totes will stay put.
We are so happy to have our little girl here finally! To have the house echo with giggles and laughter, and squeals as she plays with her kitty, Rosie, and her toys. We took the doggies to the park yesterday and walked them, and she played on the slides and merry go rounds.
And she yelled, "Look Mommy, look!" as she went round and round. My heart is full. Full enough to get us past the rough times ahead. Past the tantrums, and testing she might have. And full enough to have the patience to wait for a little girl to be ready to unpack...
Her two green totes.
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