DIFFERENT DIFFERENCES, DIFFERENTLY DIFFERING

Dear Persons,

Are you and/or your child(ren)…”different”???

As a child I didn’t see difference as significant. I think I noticed that people had different skin colors, genders, ages, spoke different languages, etc., but none of these distinctions held weight for me.  This was partly because I grew up in diverse environments (Panama and the Bronx, then Westport, CT), and partly because my brain has always been a tidge you-know-what.

I’ve been thinking lately about how the ways we and/or our families and/or loved ones differ from the “norm” actually change and have different repercussions and benefits over time and in different contexts. 

Those lists where people suggest “Things not to say to the parent of a Special Needs child” are a good example, because those things change. They change from parent/person/child to parent/person/child. And they change as children grow up and as people grow.

When my son G, who is on the autism spectrum, was little, “what not to say” would have been, well, just about anything since I personally - unlike, um, every teacher he ever had -  thought nothing was “different” about G; in elementary school, our biggest challenge was getting G the support he needed (and, at times, avoiding support he didn’t need). 

Now, I dread people telling me “So, G will be getting his Learner’s Permit soon.” Um, no? And could you not bring that up with him, please? I watch my friends with kids G’s age rejoice in their increasing freedom, knowing their children’s paths will differ in significant ways from my G’s, and I have mixed feelings: glad to have my dear child around longer, isolated, sad about that lost freedom, worried about his future, super proud of him just as he is…

(Please note, statements like, “Oh, every kid does that!” or “Every parent worries about their child’s future” - meant, probably, to be reassuring - are usually on the “not to say” list. It’s not the same. We know our kids, we know what their challenges are, we know the Full situation, so…) 

With my daughter Z, who has struggled with an attachment disorder, what has gotten me all along is when people judge my parenting (they tend not to judge HER because she is so. dang. charming). Therapeutic parenting for attachment disorders is super strong on boundaries in a way that is anathema to most of my crunchy, progressive community. For most of Z’s life, I’ve suffered when I’ve felt that people were blaming me for my daughter’s rages and tantrums. Now, I cringe when people indulge her when she is in fact testing and manipulating them.  I cringe when I have to intervene in ways that seem too strict to people who have not wrestled with attachment disordered behavior in their families…

And she - smart, tough cookie - totally knows both how to work it and why I act as I do. After she’s done being mad, she appreciates my efforts. But I know there are plenty of parents who think I’m a so-and-so. Now? I don’t care so much. Before? Yeah, that was hard. So that’s a change…

More changes: My son’s learning differences seemed to impact him most early on. They are still a major factor, as he is still in school (and they will remain something of a challenge his while life since his learning differences have non-academic implications as well), but as he moves out into the wider world his social and developmental differences may become more significant. My daughter no longer explodes in public, but she’s still contending with a need to control her environment that sometimes causes less-than-healthy behavior. As she grows up, I can see ways in which this may even become a strength, though I worry about anyone who tries to oppose her!

I guess what’s now really sinking in is that I thought once I knew there was something different about myself/G/Z, we would get a label and figure everything out and that would be it. No. And also? Labels change: Since G’s diagnosis with Asperger’s about seven years ago, Asperger’s has been officially folded into the Autism Spectrum Disorders (I say “Differences”!!) diagnosis. 

Even our understanding of labels changes as we see how individual ways of being, thinking, acting manifest over the days, weeks, months, years; as certain labels and conditions are added into the mix, and/or others are removed; as one issue that felt all-encompassing is replaced by another - or by a period of relative stability and ease…Over a lifetime, difference plays out differently. We learn and make mistakes as we go along. 

Sometimes we underestimate or limit people based on prior abilities, and it’s important to remember that we all - no matter our labels/diagnoses/challenges/disabilities/abilities - have the capacity to grow.

I wouldn’t trade either of my kids for any other, less-different child for all the world. Like most other parents, I happen to think they are the two bestest kids on this planet. At the same time,  they are not special snowflakes to be sheltered and protected from everything, especially now that their differences differ differently because they are growing up. We’ve learned that these differences make some things harder and some things easier for them, and, together, we are finding ways of both celebrating and scaffolding our differences in ways that allow for growth and change. 

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

Welcome to Voices of Special Needs Blog Hop -- a monthly gathering of posts from special needs bloggers hosted by The Sensory Spectrum and The Jenny Evolution. Click on the links below to read stories from other bloggers about having a special needs kiddo -- from Sensory Processing Disorder to ADHD, from Autism to Dyslexia! Want to join in on next month's Voices of Special Needs Hop? Click here!

An InLinkz Link-up

FOURTH ANNIVERSARY LISTS II: ATTACHMENT DISORDERS

Dear Persons,

There are not as many advocates for attachment disorder awareness as there are for the other areas of advocacy I explore, such as adoption, autism, and sensory processing differences. For this reason, I regularly revisit this theme for this one-topic anniversary post.

Over the years, I’ve tended in this blog to focus more on autism awareness and advocacy because our experiences with attachment disorder feel somehow more private, more inflicted. Attachment disorders cause children (and adults) to act in ways that are often unhealthy, even anti-social, all because of negative childhood or early life situations that did not allow them to form healthy attachments, or prematurely severed such connections.  Unlike autism and other neurological differences, typically inborn states that do not fundamentally need to be “cured” (I write a great deal on this elsewhere), attachment disorders are a sometimes incapacitating psychological condition that can benefit from intensive treatment, primarily through therapeutic parenting or work with an experienced therapist.

I share our Full Spectrum family struggles with my daughter Z’s attachment disorder for two reasons. First, because families all or partly formed by adoption or fostering may be facing this condition unawares, and may be desperate for help; and, second, because one of the central reasons we are a Full spectrum is because my children are so divergent – and this is partly because of Z’s attachment disorder. 

I will offer a little background. As you read about my daughter, please do so bearing in mind that her condition was/is not her “fault” – and is therefore nothing to be ashamed of...

When Z came home she was furious - with good reason. She was ultra-demanding, starving, relentless.  As she got older she began to steal, hoard, and lie compulsively. She became controlling - and a master manipulator. Constant power struggles with a tiny person were exhausting for the whole family (including Z!). Her tantrums continued to disrupt almost any environment she found herself in, well into her ninth year.

Her acting out was most overt with me, her mother, because she trusted me the most -- and thus needed to constantly test me. Highly challenging attachment-disordered behaviors may well be reserved for the home environment, or particular individuals, such as a parent or teacher.

While she was small of stature, adorable, and enormously charming – traits which her therapist pointed out were actually a disadvantage to healing, because they masked the ugliness of her behavior – Z’s behavior much of the time was destructive in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

If you have a child who is exhibiting such behaviors, GET HELP. Trust me, you’re going to need to learn to do things very differently than you might expect! For example, many families with children who were adopted attempt to make up for any pain caused by the loss and turmoil of the adoption process by being indulgent and extra-doting with their children. Conceding to a child’s every demand, even with loving intent, can be a recipe for disaster with a child who has an attachment disorder. Look for a therapist with expertise in this area, and read everything you can find. I’ve talked about some specific strategies here and here and here, as well as below.

Children (and adults) with attachment disorders desperately need to feel SAFE. To that end, they try to control the things and people around them.  It might sound counterintuitive, but – in a very real way – such attachment disordered behaviors emerge in a painful search for safe, strong attachments. Unfortunately, attachment disordered actions tend to result in forming primarily conflict- and need-based relationships, rather than healthy, loving ones.

TMI? Successful therapeutic parenting in one sentence? Yes:

Create an environment with

CLEAR and

CONSISTENT

RULES and

BOUNDARIES

          so that your child can feel safe

-- and so can channel his or her energy into healing and growth.

As unknown as they are, attachment disorders are very real. They can be debilitating for families; they are also sometimes almost completely curable. In our family, many years of consistent therapeutic parenting, at times under the care of a therapist who specializes in attachment disorders, have resulted in a child who is light years healthier and happier than she would have been without this specific mode of therapy.

As Z heals, her true character – brave, loyal, funny, quick, loving - begins to emerge, unhindered by a condition imposed upon her by chance through her birth circumstances. She’s strong, in her own words, “Tiny on the outside but HUGE on the inside!” She’s a wonderfully practical girl, sometimes a bit more blunt than she was raised to be...but these things are characterological, part of her disposition, not just a result of trauma. In fact, we see a myriad of traits, such as being an astute judge of character, that merge positive aspects of her natural self with lessons learned from living through an attachment disorder. Perhaps best of all, while she’s never going to be the world’s most sentimental person, she’s cuddly in a way I could not have dreamed of even a few years ago.  

She feels safe enough to relax in my arms...versus her previous inclination to demand that I carry her around at all times. The wonderfulness of this shift cannot be overestimated.

Children are terrifically resilient and, like plants, they just want to GROW. They just need the right conditions to do so in the healthiest way possible for their unique needs.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

Third Anniversary Lists II: Attachment Disorders

[I apologize, again, for weird formatting - it seems to be stemming from my blogger template and I cannot seem to fix it without causing more problems...:( ]

During the bus portion  of the second leg of our mainland China adoption journey – from Nanchang Airport to Nanchang City – our guide, whom we called “Rose,” stood up in the front of our bus and announced “Girls from Jiangxi province are known for being beautiful. Oh – and your daughters are going to be VERY SPICY!”

Now, I don’t know so much about how little Ashley, Brooke and Jade turned out…And from what little I know they seemed to be coming along quite mildly…But I can assure you that Z [whose original Chinese name we kept] is most decidedly “spicy.”

The other day, she asked me, “Mama, why am I still so angry from being in an orphanage when that was so long ago?”

“I think part of it is that you are a really smart kid, who had a lot of feelings even at a very young age,” I told her, “and I think part of it is that you naturally have a strong temper!”

As with autism, if you’ve met one kid with an attachment disorder, you’ve met one kid with an attachment disorder. My Z would probably have been “spicy” no matter how she grew up. Still, some things tend to be shared by people who have attachment disorders, such as certain types of behavioral issues that may be otherwise uncommon. Attachment disorders in children often necessitate therapeutic parenting, which looks very different from “normal” parenting -- and was, for the Full Spectrums, a MAJOR revelation.  I’ve written every year on this specific topic to share our experiences and what we’ve learned. Here are the past two posts on this subject:

http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2013/01/first-anniversary-lists-ii-attachment.html

http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2014/01/second-anniversary-lists-ii-attachment.html

Here are some details on the three main strategies for attachment disorders that I have tried over the past year, restoring omniscience, channeling and venting:

1. RE-ESTABLISHING OMNISCIENCE

To demonstrate the importance of this strategy, I offer this anecdote:

Full Spectrum Mama, having found Z in possession of something of questionable origin (i.e. not from known source and never seen before by FSM): “Where’d you get that?”

Full Spectrum daughter, Z: “In my room.”

FSM: “Well, I’ve never seen it before. So I am asking you where it came from.”

Z: [Blank.]

It’s that moment when your kid realizes you Don’t Know Everything. That moment gets more loaded when your child has an attachment disorder and the typical attachment disordered tendency to…appropriate things. LOTS of things.

The worst part of the blank non-reponse is, as several loved ones noted: Why not a better story? Something along the lines of “Someone gave it to me,” or, “I won it at school.”

Why not? Because I don’t even merit that! Anyway, she’s known for some time that if she gets too specific, her story may be refuted (see, most recently, new rhinestone hair-doodad collection, courtesy of “Ayi Fern”…”No! Full Spectrum Grandmother!”...”No…”).

Hence; “In my room.”

Back in the day when I could be convincing in my omniscience I was able to coax the truth out of Z. Then we could make things right by returning things whence they came and making amends. I would say, “In five minutes, I will give you a chance to tell the truth about that,” and, in five minutes, she would. Then we would figure out a solution.

We are entering a new realm now.

I have only one hope for a way out without getting professional help: RESTORE OMNISCIENCE. Just today, Z asked me, “Mama, can you fry stewed meat?”

“Why on earth would you ask me that? You know I am vegetarian…Oh, wait…because I…know everything?”

The response was something between an eye roll and a nod.

Sigh. I’ll be…in my room.

So let’s say OMNISCIENCE isn’t happening right now. What are some alternatives?

2. CHANNELING

This may be a bit trial-and-error, but I have found that CHANNELLING disordered behaviors, especially compulsive ones, can be very effective. The idea with channeling is to replace a disordered activity with something more healthy and pro-social. You may have to try a bunch of alternatives before you hit upon one that works, or you may just get lucky! I wrote about one major 2014 success in WADS. 

3. VENTING

Not long ago, Z was on an extended tear of “zesty” behavior: constantly testing, pushing, on edge…Having some experience with these cycles, I was able to keep her adequately on point, but only barely – and it was exhausting. As I have written in previous posts on this subject, boundaries are key; as I learned from our therapist, who specializes in attachment disorders, even small boundaries must be held in order to keep attachment disordered fears in check. So basically I have to be holding my ground on every little thing as she, typically, gets increasingly relentless…It’s not the most pleasant scenario.

Anyway, after a few weeks where I could sense Z was struggling quite a bit with something, she got angry (I don’t even remember what about) and stomped her foot and had the most comical expression on her face that I laughed when I looked at her. She became furious and stomped up to her room where she began to rage and throw and break things and scream ceaselessly for some time. After which she emerged, apologized, and has remained pleasant ever since.

I am not trying to advise you to send your child around the bend by teasing – which I did NOT mean to do! – just advocating for the occasional recognition of a tantrum as, perhaps somewhat paradoxically, a potential healing tool. The occasional VENTING session can be extraordinarily cathartic.

Next in the Anniversary Lists Series: Choosing Your Battles!!!

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

THE BURNING BRAIN

As a variation on the theme of the Sensory-Processing-Differences-induced Full Brain, I offer The Burning Brain:

     

                                                                Figure I – The Burning Brain

And just one little Burning Brain story among many: There was a family-welcome, community-building meeting for our local Autism Spectrum Disorders group a few weeks ago. I’d never been before because I always have the kids with me at night, but thought I would go since kids were welcome this time.

En route to the meeting, we stopped by our town’s First Friday celebration where there is art and music and stuff. That was our first mistake. Two events? What was I thinking?

I began to get a headache.

We arrived at the meeting and there was a ceiling fan! And bright lights! You can see where this is heading…And there were a bunch of very, very nice people, mostly educators and paraprofessionals, at whom I could not look. No other kids, but hey, my kids are a lotta kids.

By this point I could barely see or hear. I could feel the inflammation inside my skull (see above), and my head felt like it was about to explode. Just throbbing with pain. The fans, the lights, the conversation, the nice, nice people? Unbearable.

I drove home trying not to vomit, got home, vomited from pain…

One single burning thing I was able to think during this episode: I can only imagine how a child would handle this!

This is Sensory Processing Disorder: a relative overabundance of stimuli (whether of activities or sensory input) causes migraines for some people. This same overabundance can also cause some of us to feel overwhelmed with despair, or anxiety, or anger and - especially before we are aware of Sensory Processing Differences - to not know why we feel this way. Kmarie Audrey has written wonderfully about this subject here. 

Again, imagine how this process of Sensory challenges leading to emotional/social/physical pain and/or overload would affect a child! A huge meltdown or tantrum seems almost – dare I say it? -- ”under-reactive” in this context!

My son, who also has Sensory Processing Differences, tends to shut down, or get more flappy and loud than usual when in Overload Mode. I talk to him about it, and hope he will have the words and wherewithal to deal with it as he grows up.

Me? I mostly get Burning Brain these days. Once I am in that state (and by this point medications do not help) my migraine will amplify any sensory input so as to make the smallest thing (lights, sounds, smells, movement) literally agonizing.

On the most basic level, I get why a clothing tag might make someone scream, why swinging on a swing soothes some and dysregulates others, why seeing a bright color could cause nausea or even vomiting…

There is a great deal of skepticism around Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD), so I write this for those who cannot put their experiences into words as well as I can (at least in writing), and/or who do not have an audience. As an adult, I have a certain legitimacy, where a young child might not. I am able to be articulate in ways that a non-verbal or less verbal person might not be...As a college professor and an individual with some level of “success” in life I implicitly have the credibility that those who are even more profoundly affected by Sensory Differences might not be freely given by others.

SPD is not an “excuse” for me – I have a good life! – but it is very real and very challenging and as a label it does explain some of my lived experience. For some of us, including many children and people with autism/autistic people, SPD – while it may have its positive aspects (about which I have written before and will write again) – can make life quite difficult.

We may need help. We may need accommodations. We may need creative solutions and adaptations. We will need understanding.

Please believe us.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

An InLinkz Link-up

THE HARD TIMES ALTERNATOR

From time to time, Full Spectrum Mama feels inclined to posit the existence of heretofore undiscovered mechanisms of being, such as the Extrapolator-Catastrophizer Gland (a.k.a. the ECG -- http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-incident-of-overactive-extrapolator.html).

I’ve noticed over the years that, when one child is seriously – really seriously -- full of beans, the other will often back off from any of their usual “issyews” because, well, I used to think it was they could tell that MAMA CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE and if ONE. MORE.THING. HAPPENS…She’s gonna BLOW.

However. I’ve recently come to believe in the existence of a previously unknown ethereal apparatus that I am going to dub The Hard Times Alternator (THTA). This nifty device, when in good working order, is what makes one child stand in slack-jawed awe of another child’s tantrum, rather than joining in or – egads – cooking up their own simultaneous insidious activity. (Please see Figure I, below.) Then, it’s what makes Ms. or Mr. Slack-Jawed bust out a classic drive-u-nutz move once their Loco sibling has subsided. This is known as "The THTA Switcheroo." And then you eat the candy. A lot of candy.

                                     Figure I – Hypothetical Examples of THTA Activity

THTA is what makes you get several new part time jobs when you lose the one you had; or get a really great magazine in the mail right when you get sick. It drops the good thing in on either side of the less-good thing. So that you can live?

THTA is Not to be confused with the classic “We only get [or ‘God only gives us’] what we can handle.” Which – just – no.*

Indeed, ideally, THTA should be a fair manifestation of macro-order justice and balance, proportionately bringing ease where needed and modulating struggle.

Do you feel slammed? Maybe your Hard Times Alternator is jammed. Unjam that slam with some [insert clever, applicable rhyme here].

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* This insipid and presumptuous saying is a perennial favorite COMPLAINT of THE COMPLAINT DEPARTMENT.

Second Anniversary Lists II: Attachment Disorders

I posted my first second-anniversary list, on Advocacy, about two weeks ago. Immediately following that post, I had a startlingly depressing IEP meeting, hence, the delay in this second list – and this disclaimer: none of us knows what to do all the time! Sometimes life is hard, and there are major and minor disastrophes, however hard we try.

It was “funny” to have this second second-anniversary post in the back of my mind as I endured one of the most attachment-disordered weekends we have had in recent memory.  The drama was epic, with violent and threatening tantrums starting Friday afternoon - and the consequences (effective or not) were many. Still, I stand by my lists – I just may need to adhere to them with more vim and acumen myself!

This time last year, I wrote about attachment disorders in general and listed some of the things I wished I’d known about them before embarking on some painful and discouraging times with very little knowledge of how to help my child. I had moments of desperation, regret and despair that I would not wish on anyone. If you are looking for general definitions and tips, or are new to attachment disorders, here is the link to that post: http://fullspectrummama.blogspot.com/2013/01/first-anniversary-lists-ii-attachment.html.

This year, I decided to write about our current state of slightly more advanced (partly more healed…and partly more “subtle,” as fine-tuned by Herself, La Z) mild to moderate* attachment disordered-ness.

Thoughts on “Advanced”Attachment Disorders

1. Therapeutic Parenting helps.

Thanks to what we’ve learned and implemented about therapeutic parenting, Z’s tantrums are down to once a week or less. They usually (usually – hahahaaaaaa) occur on Sundays, when we have spent what feels to G and me like a relaxing weekend. While G and I both desperately need such extended sensory/social breaks, they entail much less stimulation/world domination than Z, even on a purely kinesthetic level, craves and needs. Either “side” usually has to compromise on a given day, but on slow weekends tantrums are likely…Less likely, however, than they were during the Pre-Therapeutic Parenting Era!

2. The Sooner the Better.

I know: they say this with ALL interventions…And sometimes you just don’t know what is going on.  (For example, G wasn’t diagnosed with autism until second grade.) But if you do know that your child has an attachment disorder, and are dilly-dallying…Don’t. I know single moms who are raising teenagers with attachment disorders -- big, male teenagers – and it’s a lot harder to tackle in that dynamic than it is for me with Ms. Puny Stuff over here.

3. Cycles/Patterns.

It’s so important to bear cycles and patterns in mind when things seem bleak: change will come, for better or worse (hopefully the former!).  Z, as I have explored at length elsewhere on this blog, has certain times of year (spring in particular) and certain types of events (holidays) that seem to trigger her most disordered behavior. Other times, we may have positively peaceful stretches; these are what we look forward to – if we can remember to do so – when times are rough.

4. Presumed Omniscience.

Presumed omniscience seems to be a hallmark of many people with attachment disorders, including Z. I’ve recently had to disavow her of the habit of saying “I was thinking that,” or, alternatively, “I was just about to say that,” every few minutes. She tells her friends she has done/seen [fill-in-the-blank] “about a thousand times.” Also, she openly pities those pathetic and inferior individuals – and this is not limited to fellow children -- who have not done/seen/known [fill-in-the-blank].

“I’ll be the mom” is a phrase that is in common usage chez the Full Spectrum, especially when Z (8) mimics my instructions to G (12) regarding his “teenager practice” activities (you know, eye-rolling, grunted replies to all questions, slouching at all times…). As one might imagine, G does not take kindly to his bossy peanut of a sister’s reprimands.

Omniscience also encompasses the alleged inability to make (admit) mistakes. So when Z and I are working together on learning a new skill, say…sewing, mistakes are not made in the usual sense. Rather, the thread often “needs help” – or the fabric “has a problem.”

This omniscience may represent efforts to make sense of a world that feels unstable. It’s something we, as individuals with attachment disorders (or in interactions with those who have an attachment disorder), or as parents of children with attachment disorders, should consider.

5. Control.

Children and adults with AD may feel the need to control their environments because on a very basic level they feel unsafe. Although the connection may not always be evident, that fear impels a state of constant inner vigilance and is expressed in controlling behaviors.

If we don’t have any potential human servants non-family people at the house, much of the time Z spends at home is spent corralling one or both of our cats. She will – for long stretches of time - hold one cat very close and march him or her around the house, ignoring any wiggling or desire to escape, and “showing” him or her the views out of our windows and so on. Alternatively, she will bring both cats into a small, enclosed space and “play” with them.

We have really nice cats.

Adults need to set impeccable boundaries so that, on the one hand, a child with these challenges may feel more safe and, on the other, the child (and their pet{s}) really is safe. With attachment-disordered adult relationships, this may be more tricky. In my experience, though, the principles of boundaries and consistency will hold across quite a Full Spectrum and so it certainly cannot hurt to try this sort of healing work.

Here is a really fascinating example of boundary setting: last night, I politely asked Z to put away the deck of cards with which she was playing. She continued to spread out the cards. I reminded her of my request and she explained that she “wanted to show [me] the cards.” I insisted that she do as I had asked. Therapeutic parenting? Done! For that moment at least…

As potentially boring, relentless and annoying as such boundaries may feel in their enactment – and from day to day it can feel endless -- these baby steps help heal that frightened impulse toward constant control.  

6. Subversion.

The first thing I learned about therapeutic parenting was that everything I was doing as a progressive, choice- and respect-offering parent was wrong. To put it in less-loaded language, it was not working. My child needed me to set strong boundaries and make most choices on her behalf in order to feel safe and learn to trust. Bit by bit I got this down. But Shawty is SMART. She turned it around on me!

Ergo:

Z: “Can I go in [G]’s room?”

Mama: “Sure.”

Z: “Can I take three steps in the hallway?”

Mama: “Z, come on.”

Pause.

Z: “Mama!…Mama! Can I walk through his door?”

Or--

Mama, shouting (nicely) upstairs to bathroom while doing 17 other things: “[Z], please wash your hair now!”

Z: “Okay.”

One minute later, Z again: “Mama?”

Mama makes way back to bottom of stairs from doing 19 things: “Yes?”

Z: “Should I now rinse my hair?”

I think you can see where I am going with this.

[Insert informative “Answer Section” with instructions on how to handle this development.]

7. Refusal to Ask.

Does Z need me to charge one of her contraptions? Does another toy need batteries? Does she know how to sew a complicated project without ever having been taught? Is there something important that she wishes or requires? I won’t know unless I ask her. Because she Will. Not. Ask. For. Anything (Help-Related). See: Control. See: Presumed Omniscience…

That being said…is this an “Attachment Disorder” thing? Or is it…

8. Temperament

Z is a strong personality in a family of strong personalities. It’s hard to imagine she would have been the shy, retiring type under any circumstances. Some of Z’s less-pro-social behaviors are personality-derived, some are rooted in her attachment disorder. I have to try to strike that elusive balance between accepting Z as she is – obviously not a unique issue in any relationship -- and helping her to heal those aspects of her being that are affected by her attachment disorder. Whereas with G, who has aspergers syndrome, I use general health-promoting practices and promote radical acceptance of neurodiversity, I do actively want to “cure” Z of her attachment disorder, insofar as that is possible. As we grow together, I hope all the different parts of Z’s life  - personality, environment, history, dreams… -- will come together in increasingly healthy ways.

The main themes here can be summed up in a two concepts:

TRUST – and trust promoting actions, and

BOUNDARIES – and setting them consistently.

This latter should, ideally, set a foundation for the former. NB: this process may unfold in a remarkably extended and painstaking fashion! I hope someday Z, as her trust in the world grows, will be able to look upon such things as letting go a bit, or needing help, or not knowing something as normal human activities – both in herself and in others.

Meantime, do you know everything? Do you never need to ask for information or help? Do you never make mistakes? Are you in command and control at all times? Do you not need new batteries? Just in case the answer to any of these is “no,” I will leave you, dear reader, with these words, uttered by Z when I lost a mean game of Apples to Apples: “Sorry you’re kind of a loser.”

Coming Soon: Anniversary List III: Choosing Your Battles…

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* I have written elsewhere on the differences between severe and mild attachment disorders, and there is much available on this subject online. Z has what is known as a “mild to moderate” attachment disorder.

DEAR EVERYONE

This note in Z’s handwriting was in the last round of paper recycling:

“Dear evryone,

how know me

my family thinks that I don’t beylong on this family.

they hayt me”

I brought it up the day after I found it. Obviously lots to talk about. But the first item of discussion regarded the top line(s).

“So…with ‘Dear everyone’…do you think you meant everyone on earth?” I wondered.

She shrugged. Knowing Z, that was quite possible.

We pored over the next line, which neither of us could decipher. And since Z did not remember writing the note, we were left to speculate.

Suddenly Z figured it out: she meant 

“Dear everyone

who knows me”!

Oh, right. That’s all.

“When do you think you might have written this?” I asked.

“When I was mad?”

“Why were you mad?”

“I dunno.”

“Do you think maybe it was because you did something you shouldn’t have done and got busted and had consequences?”

“Maybe.” (Reluctantly.)

“Maybe?”

“Actually…Yes.”

“Do you think you got in trouble because we hate you and don’t think you belong in this family or because of something you – who we love and who belongs in this family - did?”

“Because of something I did?”

“Yes! That’s right!” Then, to be sure, I asked, “Do you ever feel like we hate you or you don’t belong when you are not angry…like if you are sad or even just on a regular day?”

“No!”

But is getting mad really the key issue here? I thought not: “…Honey, do you ever feel upset because you were adopted?”

“No!!!!”…expressed with No hesitation.

“Oh.”

That was a few days ago.

Last night, Z was sent to bed after dinner because of Fresh Attitude toward her brother and mother, despite several extra chances. She had a giant tantrum, with lots of banging and throwing, and then she fell asleep. Later, as I went upstairs to tuck in her brother, I found this note on the landing:

“Dear Mama and [G].

i am relly sorry that I have been Bad for a long time.

i going to triy to be good but i don’t thik i can.

i love you both

[Z]”

The note was heartrending. No one has to my knowledge ever told Z she was BAD! Plus, we always tell her she can do ANYTHING! It didn’t seem to me that she was making excuses  either – she genuinely thought she might well be unable to “be good.”

A thoughtful reader JUST sent me this timely link: http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/07/31/i-do-not-want-my-daughter-to-be-nice/?emc=eta1&_r=0 . We love and celebrate Z’s power; we never ask her to be “nice.” We only ask that she treat the people around her with basic kindness (different from niceness!) and respect. Sure, sometimes this doesn’t happen for a variety of reasons, some of them “normal” and some of them “disordered.” Nonetheless, she’s a terrific kid! How has she come to believe – at least in that moment – that she is fundamentally and irreparably “Bad”? 

Into the night, while practicing meditation, while trying unsuccessfully to sleep, I kept asking myself, “What does she need? Does she need me to be kind and encouraging? Strict and boundary-setting?” I thought of different people I know and how they might approach the situation. Wise people. Clever people.

And then I thought of all the people I know who, like Z, question their place in the world and their own abilities.

For so many of us, the worst struggle we encounter is that with ourselves. I see it with my students all the time: some students start strong and then lose steam without family support or the confidence that they can follow through; others begin with resistance, with the attitude that they lack whatever it takes to learn. It’s not always possible for teachers to reach students in these positions, hard as we may try. Feelings of trust (of self and others) and belonging can be elusive in ways that are positively debilitating, especially for people with questions about their place in their families and peer groups. Ideally, the basis for healthy self-acceptance and –confidence and trust is established at home and in those early relationships

If only I could figure out how to approach Z’s notes and her feelings of not being able to be good, not belonging, being “Bad,” maybe I could spare her the persistence of some of these grueling conditions into adulthood. Unconditional love and acceptance are always the way, right? But does Z need “cut-the-malarky-and-just-be-good-y” unconditional love or “I-acknowledge-your-deep-inner-pain-y” unconditional love? Both? Something else?

…these are among the many questions I asked myself before finally nodding off…

Wouldn’t you know it, all our energy this morning went to getting out of the house, so what I did after all that ruminating was: nothing.

Then, moments ago, I got an email from a family member* suggesting the CTFD Method, which seems enticing (http://jezebel.com/the-ctfd-method-is-the-greatest-of-all-parenting-trends-816536389?utm_medium=referral&utm_source=pulsenews).

Dear everyone

who is reading this 

if you have The Answer, 

please do let us know. 

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* Who is currently still alive, having sent the link in an all-inclusive group email.

Springtime at the Orphanage

Tra la la…”Sweet lovers love the spring…”*

Tra la…

Let’s see…

This time last year, we were in discussions about a possible 504 Plan** for Z. The year before that, we sought attachment-disorder-specific therapy for a situation that was spiraling out of control – and out of the range of bearable.

This spring we are facing a renewed cycle of tantrums and other behaviors, many of which have lain dormant since as long ago as, well, last spring. I’ve had to write Z’s teacher several times explaining that she had not had breakfast due to a meltdown; now I know to pack extra snacks – stuff like that.

While Z sometimes says things she intends to be very hurtful (a wee bit embarrassingly for all, these things often seem funny to adults in the vicinity: “You stupid poopoo mother I will hate you forever and kill you With! This! Doll! And then I will never! Ever! Eat the BAD, DUMB dinner you cook again!”), she more often proceeds directly to the pre-verbal, with growls, shouts, kicks and screams prevailing.  We’ve come to understand that this regressive behavior demonstrates Z’s ongoing need to be nurtured as (if she were still) a baby.

The cycle of the seasons clearly has deep meaning for Z.  The merry infant who smiled back at us from her taken-in-February referral photo had, by the time we arrived in China in July (this was as fast as the process allowed) to bring her home, seen and felt things no child should endure. I cannot say whether Z endured any definite abuse. We were not allowed to enter the orphanage in Fuzhou (Jiangxi province). Certainly there was a significant level of neglect, and, judging by how skinny Z was -- and how voracious – a bona fide shortage of food.

Z’s orphanage experiences are still reverberating in her body and mind in ways unfathomable to those of us who at the very least had adequate food and some constant presence in our infancies.

Sure, we’d all like to have been loved unconditionally and to have known we came first to our parents and maybe some of us didn’t get that and yeah, that sucks. No, it really does. And we - some of us - do have cavernous, terrible, enduring holes inside where that love should have gone. But anyone privileged enough to be reading (or writing) this blog probably had their most basic needs met. Z didn’t. She’s traumatized. It comes out in the spring.

As the years have gone by and we have been able, with the help of our therapist, to identify this pattern, it has helped all of us feel less hopeless. It’s given us some context, rather than leaving us flailing in the dark as our family degenerates, seemingly out of the blue. I can say to Z, “Springtime is sometimes hard for you,” and that might let her know both that she is accepted and that this, too, shall pass.

We are not alone in having a child who hits a rough patch in the spring (or in some other cyclical context). Whether through embodied trauma, allergies, transitions…certain times of the year can trigger strong, often unhealthy behaviors and feelings.

This spring, partially to address these issues and partly because we’ve put our house on the market, we embarked on The Deep Cleaning of the Bedrooms. While each child cleans his or her room weekly, with some help from Mama, this was a whole different endeavor. I swear, between recycling and straight up trash I hauled several hefty bags out of each child’s room.

G’s room was a giant mess, but Z’s room was a project. A certain kind of masterpiece, actually. Millions of tiny twists of paper had been squirreled away in every possible crevice. There were a lot of unfamiliar (to me, anyway) toys, and pieces of candy and candy wrappers and Oreos (Oreos??!) in hidey-holes and in bags within bags (whenever I come across a snazzy second hand purse or am given one, it goes straight to Z). 

Progressing from irritation to wonder, and back and forth again, I stood in awe at the complexity and skill of Z’s hoarding.

When we were done (after many, many sensory breaks for all) and we’d dealt with the garbage and recycled the recycling, Z was as happy as I’ve ever seen her. You could actually see how light she felt, how purged. Without prompting, she expressed her desire to “be really peaceful all the time now!” and to “draw instead of ripping and hiding things!”

Nice ideas. Let’s hope they work, at least a little. Spring cleaning is traditional in many cultures and maybe there is a deeper source to this impulse than just the practical, cleaning-cleaning part.

In any case, I do believe we will aim for a Deep cleaning every Spring from here on in.

I’ve always suspected that when parents try to correct for the wrongs done them by their parents they probably will be causing equal yet opposite forms of wrongs to their own children. Butanyway, I try to work on the heart level too, because my generation is big on endowing our children with unconditional love.

Sometimes we have this exchange, which both children find quite boring:

FSM: “Do you know what is the most important thing on earth to me?”

Children: “We are.” (Ho Hum.)

FSM: “Do I love you completely in every way no matter how you act?”
Children: “Yeeees.” (With ennui.)

FSM: “What do I think you are?”
Children: “Marvels.”

Marvels! The great cellist Pablo Casals said this about children:

Each second we live is a new and unique moment of the universe, a moment that will never be again. And what do we teach our children? We teach them that two and two make four, and that Paris is the capital of France. When will we also teach them what they are? We should say to each of them: Do you know what you are? You are a marvel. You are unique. In all the years that have passed, there has never been another child like you. Your legs, your arms, your clever fingers, the way you move. You may become a Shakespeare, a Michelangelo, a Beethoven. You have the capacity for anything. Yes, you are a marvel. And when you grow up, can you then harm another who is, like you, a marvel? You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.

Pablo Casals (1876 - 1973)***

Springtime at the Orphanage might’ve been terrible, but, here, it’s got marvels too.

Love,

Full Spectrum Mama

* "It Was a Lover and His Lass"

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

It was a lover and his lass,

   With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

That o’er the green cornfield did pass,

   In springtime, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;

Sweet lovers love the spring.

Between the acres of the rye,

   With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

Those pretty country folks would lie,

   In springtime, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;

Sweet lovers love the spring.

This carol they began that hour,

   With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

How that a life was but a flower

   In springtime, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;

Sweet lovers love the spring.

And therefore take the present time,

   With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,

For love is crownèd with the prime

   In springtime, the only pretty ring time,

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding;

Sweet lovers love the spring.

** 504 Plans relate to a wide range of “impairments” to learning, the variety of which may or may not fall under “Special Education” criteria. Z’s disruptive classroom behavior -- which stemmed from her attachment disorder -- was impairing her ability to learn as well as disturbing her teacher and fellow students.

Here is a good definition of a 504 Plan from http://specialchildren.about.com/od/504s/f/504faq1.htm :

Question: What Is a 504 Plan?

Answer: The "504" in "504 plan" refers to Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act and the Americans with Disabilities Act, which specifies that no one with a disability can be excluded from participating in federally funded programs or activities, including elementary, secondary or postsecondary schooling. "Disability" in this context refers to a "physical or mental impairment which substantially limits one or more major life activities." This can include physical impairments; illnesses or injuries; communicable diseases; chronic conditions like asthma, allergies and diabetes; and learning problems. A 504 plan spells out the modifications and accommodations that will be needed for these students to have an opportunity perform at the same level as their peers, and might include such things as wheelchair ramps, blood sugar monitoring, an extra set of textbooks, a peanut-free lunch environment, home instruction, or a tape recorder or keyboard for taking notes.

*** http://blog.gaiam.com/quotes/authors/pablo-casals/55416