The Boundaries Paradox
March 23, 2010

I don’t know about you, but as a parent I frequently struggle with determining boundaries.  How far is too far, how tight is too tight?  I want my kids to have a sense of control in their own lives, to safely learn how to make good decisions, and to be empowered in having an impact on what is happening in their lives.

At the same time, I don’t want my kids running the family, becoming overwhelmed with the responsibilities of the many, varied decisions that are involved in family life, or having a sense that they have to be in control because no-one else is.

Particularly when you have kids with attachment disorder.  Control is a double-edged sword for them.  They feel compelled to be in control because they have no ability to trust the adults in their life to provide for their safety and basic needs – yet they are terrified of having to be in control.  They fight to get control, then are overwhelmed and resentful when they are in control.

I can’t profess to have figured any of this out yet.  And I have learned a few things that seem to work well and others that definitely don’t work.

One thing that does work is to be clear, concrete and unfailingly consistent in your expectations of what the kids’ responsibilities are, what behavior is expected, and how they can communicate when they are unhappy, dissatisfied or upset.  Being clear that everyone has chores to do is fully in the parent’s realm to mandate.  Depending on the age and abilities of the children in question, providing opportunities to decide which chores they will do may be totally appropriate.  Having tight boundaries on the expectation (everyone contributes to the family by doing chores) while loosening the parameters around the specifics (here is a list, choose 3 you will be responsible for) can allow room for choice. 

Another thing that works well is having clear and absolute boundaries around fulfilling expectations.  What doesn’t work is using traditional rewards and consequences when expectations are not fulfilled.  If the same infraction results in the same consequence, the child simply learns to bargain each day – deciding if it is worth getting up on time to have computer time.  By always changing up what the consequences are, the child learns that there is a price to pay, and that price can sometimes be high.  Not getting up on time, in my house can result in losing computer time for the day, losing all electronics for the day, having to do an extra chore, losing phone privilages, having to perform at least one kind deed for all other family members, or whatever else might pop into my creative little head that day. 

In my previous entry, I shared a letter I wrote and gave to my 16 year old.  At the time, I honestly was not convinced that he would choose to continue to live with our family.  I took him out to lunch so we could read and discuss it together.  We went after the lunch rush, and got a nice tall booth in the corner.  He had tears in his eyes after he read it.  Initially, he withdrew.  He would not give me eye contact and literally sank into his body.  I reiterated that everything I do and every decision I make for him and his sisters is based in my deep, unconditional love for them.  He told me that he did know that.  I told him that he can tell me that he thinks my rules stink and that he doesn’t like them.  He must tell me in ways that are respectful and loving.  So, he told me my rules stink, he doesn’t like them and there is nowhere else he would rather be than with us.

The weeks since our talk have been good.  Not perfect.  Not entirely easy.  And very good.  Of course Kenneth had to test the boundaries.  He found that they were firm and that there were no cracks in the foundation – my husband and I were in alignment and could not be divided and conquered.  He decided one day that he would prefer to live on the streets than do what was expected of him.  For 3 hours.  He walked to my office and apologized.  He helped come up with ideas for how he was going to meet the expectations that were lined out.  And he was informed that if he ever again chooses to leave rather than fulfill his expectations, it will be a final decision.

Since then, Kenneth has been happier and more energetic than I have seen him in a very long time.  He spends more time with the family, laughs more often, and is helpful and kind.  He is volunteering at a meals program for the homeless and attending a class on digital storytelling.  Tomorrow he will begin helping out at a day care center for high-risk children.  He seems to really enjoy helping other people.   We had a family day last week – a picnic lunch and a 2.25 mile hike up and back down a very tall ridge.  It was such fun and Kenneth had us all cracking up all day. 

My fear that tightening the boundaries for Kenneth would push him away have not only been unfounded, but proven to be totally false.  And herein lies the paradox – Kenneth seems to actually be growing more rapidly and in a stronger, more positive way within these tighter boundaries than he was without them.  Who would have known?!

copyrighted March 23, 2010

An Open Letter to My 16-year-old Son
March 3, 2010

Dear Kenneth,

You have experienced more loss, pain, abandonment, and rejection in your short life than many will experience in a lifetime.  These circumstances and events have left your heart bruised, your sense of worth scarred, and your ability to discern real risks from percieved threats severly impaired.  I have wanted nothing more than to be able to erase all of these memories from your mind.  To free you from the fears that haunt you and create a place where you are safe.

Yet, I now realize, that do to so is to also rob you of the opportunities these experiences have presented.  These events have served you in many wonderful ways.  You have an absolutely golden, shining heart.  Your compassion and joy with young children may well be a gift that was wrapped in the package of your own lonely childhood.  Your voracious reading, a tool used to escape your sadness, has fueled your brilliant intellect and creative thinking.

My attempts to protect you from your past, and the world from your anger and fear does not serve you.  What I lulled myself into believing to be helpful to you, really only served my needs to be needed, to be right, and to prove that I was tough enough to handle anything.  The truth is we can both only reach our most inspired goals by being vulernable, brave enough to not always be right, and to meet our needs in direct, open and honest ways.

When I try to protect you from yourself, and the world from your lashing out in pain, I am dishonoring both of us.  I am acting from a place of fear.  Fear that I am not enough.  Fear that I will lose you.  Fear that I will fail.  I am teaching you to be afraid of your own emotions and the world.  That is not how I want to serve you.

From today forward, I commit to serve you in love – honestly and with courage. 

From your perspective, it may not look like that.  When I hold you to expectations of talking to me and others with respect, of contributing to the family and the household, of contributing to the community and others who are less fortunate, when I expect you to excel in your efforts and to live for more than just the immediate pleasure at hand – you will not necessarily see the gifts that these expectations are.  You will likely perceive them to be burdens and limitations.

Thus, I want to tell you why this paradox must be.

Together, we have chosen for you to leave high school and get your GED, with the intent of then enrolling in a technical school.  You will be taking yoru GED test within the next few weeks.  When you enroll in school, you will be out in the adult world.  The passes I have given you are not recognized tender in that world.  Your childhood and past experiences will not be considerations.  Your intellect, behavior, efforts and initiative will be what counts.

If your instructors tell you that food and drinks are not allowed in the computer lab, they will not care that you disagree and that authoritative directives remind you of Ron.  They will expect you to follow the rules.  If you don’t, you will not be allowed to stay in the program.  If you do not complete the program, you will not get the job you dream of having.  Your choice is to decide you would rather not eat/drink in the lab or not get the job you dream of having.  No discussion.  No exceptions.  Yet, I have allowed you to break the rule of eating in the TV/computer room again and again.  I have taught you that you can do what you want because I would rather not take the chance of you calling me a bitch, throwing or knocking stuff over, stomping up the stairs and creating havoc in the house.  I have allowed you to believe that your behavior is an effective option for dealing with the things you do not like.

That ends today.

Your choice is to live in my home, with all of my rules or choose to live elsewhere.

I insist on this because I love you so immensely.  I love you so much that I am willing to risk losing you, letting other people think I have failed, and admit that I have been wrong.  I love you so much that I will no longer teach you to behave in ways that will not serve you.  I love you so much that I will only accept the greatest you have to offer – and nothing less.  If you decide this is not what you want – I still love you with all that I have.

Here is what I will accept as the greatest you have to offer:

  • You are up and out of bed by 9:00 am every weekday
  • You walk the dog once a day
  • You are engaged in some productive, helpful activity at least 4 hours every day – outside of the house, and/or helping out around the house
  • You keep your room clean
  • You do your chores everyday
  • You make dinner 3 days a week
  • You exercise at least 30 minutes, 3 times a week
  • You respect all house rules
  • You use only respectful language, even when you are mad
  • You treat household property with respect, especially when you are mad
  • You spend at least 4 hours, once a week engaged in an activity with the family

I believe that to ask any less of you is to set you up to struggle throughout your adult life.  I want to afford you every possible opportunity to be happy, healthy and successful in life. 

So this is my gift to you.  I hope you see the value in it and someday even treasure it.  For now, I trust myself enough to know it and to fulfill on this promise to you.

Regardless of your choice, I love you with all that I am and I always will,


copyrighted 3-4-10

A Mother’s Enduring Touch
February 17, 2010

Growing up I always said I was never going to have kids.  I didn’t really play with babydolls and stollers.  I don’t even think I ever had a babydoll.  Maybe because there were always real babies around our house, I didn’t need a doll and I didn’t need to play pretend.  As the oldest girl in a family of 7 children, I did countless diaper changes and bottle feedings, it wasn’t that much fun in my opinion.  I can remember I was completely enamored with and much more interested in the lives of Mary Tyler Moore, Miss Alice Johnson on Room 222, and Ann Marie, That Girl.  My mom’s feelings would get hurt when I would proclaim that I was going to be an independent career woman.  She felt this was a judgement against her chosen and beloved vocation.  I had a sense as a child that she was particularly good at being a mom.  I now know that she was beyond exceptional.

I got married when I was in my mid 30’s and we agreed that we weren’t really interested in having children.  I channeled my nuturing instincts into gardening, my many neices and nephews and my pets.  I was happy and fulfilled.  I had a job that required extensive travel and I didn’t have to feel guilty about being away.  I loved working with so many different people in so many different areas of the country.  I enjoyed being able to just kick back when I was home – spending weekends hanging out with friends and enjoying family get-togethers.  It wasn’t until five years into the marriage, when my mom died, that I struggled to find purpose and meaning in my life.  My therapist first brought up that many people cope with the loss of their parents through the parenting of their own children.  I wasn’t sure what to do with that – I certainly didn’t want grieving over my mom to be a reason to bring a child into the world.

Eleven months after my mom died, my sister was in a fatal car accident.  If you have read any of my previous blog posts, you will know that this is how I came to take on the role of being a mom.  That was nearly seven years ago.  There have been so many changes in my life that came about as a result of this decision.  The one that may be the greatest blessing is remembering the mother that my mom was, and being inspired by her courage, depth of love, natural playfulness, and her undying, persistent optimism.

Mom made everything playful and a game.  I can honestly say that some of the most fun we had were doing things like painting the house, washing the walls, doing our weekly chores, cooking and baking.  We would have music playing, and be dancing and singing throughout the tasks at hand.  We would joke and play and laugh.  We painted each other, doused each other in water, chased each other around the house and generally had fun together.  As long as we all worked together to clean up the messes we made, mom not only didn’t mind, but often was right in the middle of it all.  I have to say, that I do remember a time our family friends were over when our parents weren’t home.  Don’t ask how, but we all got into a “fairy dust” fight.  If it was white and powdery, it was fairy dust.  We had baby powder, flour, baking soda, powdered suger and heaven knows what else all over each other and the entire house.  Mom and dad walked into the middle of this little game.  She was not amused.  It took us the entire day to clean up the mess we made.  I am sure, that out of our sight, she must have had a good chuckle, though.

Everything I have learned from her has helped me in my efforts to raise my kids and to help them work through their emotional pain.  She showed me how to be firm and funny at the same time.  She was exceptionally talented at tough love.  She had high expectations and never made me feel like a failure.  She worked hard, played hard and loved unconditionally.  She did not back down from difficult decisions and would fight to the death for the good of her children.  At times, she so identified with her role as a mother that she struggled with letting go and creating opportunities for independence.  I learned from that as well. 

The one thing she taught me that has most helped me to parent my kids, is that there are no bad kids.  There are behaviors that may be unacceptable, but the behavior does not make the kid.  And there is nothing that cannot be made better with love and laughter.  When I remember this, and stay committed to love above anger and fear, I am at total peace, regardless of how chaotic and disregulated the kids are.  This is also when I feel my mom with me, celebrating the joy of parenting.

copyrighted 2/18/10 – Happy Birthday, Mom ❤

Visions of Sugar Plums Dance in My Head…
November 11, 2009

This is my bedtime meditation:

Patsy is a smart, confident, free-spirited little girl.  She is happy, calm and at peace.  She knows with absolute certainty that she is loved and cherished.  Patsy is fully aware of her skills, talents and gifts and she is eager to use them to create the life of her dreams.

Megan is a bright, confident, joyful young woman.  She is calm and at peace.  She knows with absolute certaintly that she is loved and cherished.  Megan is fully aware of her skills, talents and gifts and she is eager to use them to create the life of her dreams.

Kenneth is a motivated, self-assured, determined young man.  He is happy, calm and at peace.  He knows with absolute certainty that he is loved and cherished.  Kenneth is fully aware of his skills, talents and gifts and he is eager to use them to create the life of his dreams.

I focus on each word as I state it to myself and picture each of the kids – how they look and what they are doing – seeing this as their reality.  I then fall asleep happy and peaceful, with absolute certainty that I am loved and cherished.

I am thinking I will create a poster or a plaque for each of them to hang in the bedrooms so that this is the last thought they have each night and the first each morning.

copyrighted 11/11/09

To Live Gratitude is to Touch Heaven (Gaertner)
October 30, 2009

It has been a long and strange week.  An odd assortment of happenings and circumstances have occurred and my emotions are all mixed up and jumbled.  Kenneth had a bleed this week – always sparking worry for me.  Not because of the medical issue – I have dealt with hemophilia and hemorrhages all my life.  I just never know how Kenneth is going to do with it.  He hates needles and doctors and doesn’t handle pain very well at all.  He actually cooperated quite well with keeping ice and an ace-wrap on it Monday night.  He was still sleeping when I left for work on Tuesday and I was a little stressed because I had a mandatory meeting in the middle of the day.  Of course, he calls me just as the meeting starts.  I texted and learned that his knee was worse and was going to need an infusion.  If you are not familiar with hemophilia, or what an infusion is – a quick overview.  His blood is missing a factor that causes it to clot when there has been trauma to the body.  So, where most of us might bump into something and maybe have a red mark or scrape, Kenneth will have a massive bruise.  The more serious the trauma to soft tissue or organs, the more significant the “bleed”.  A minor bleed can be treated with cold and compression.  Moderate to severe hemorrhages require Kenneth to have concentrated Factor IX infused intraveneously – usually once or twice a day for 1 – 4 days.  So, the kid is already in pain, then has to be jabbed, not just into his arm or soft tissue, but directly into his vein.  He happens to have the misfortune to have small, mobile veins.  So, if the nurse is not exceptionally skilled, he is hard to “hit”.  I once watched as a veteran nurse stick him 6 times and still was never able to succeed.

So, one can’t really blame him for doing everything in his power to avoid an infusion.  Luckily, over the last year he has matured, learned to trust the nurses at clinic, and been more responsible about managing his disorder.  So, even though I had to take off work and bring him to clinic, he was not only cooperative, but told me he drank 4 glasss of orange juice to help hydrate himself and make his veins an easier target.  It was a bit nerve wracking balancing work and clinic, preparing the concentrate, getting Kenneth in and out of the house on crutches in the rain.  Not the worse case scenario, and I was still very tired at the end of the day.

That evening, I received a phone call from my ex.  He wanted to let me know that the mother of a friend of ours had passed away.  I know, it seems a rather benign situation – yet it put me into a bit of an emotional tail-spin.  Having experienced the deaths of 3 siblings and both parents – I am highly empathetic to others’ losses.  It can also bring a lot of my own grief to the surface.  The thing that caught me off guard though, was a wave – no more of a surge – of emotions  surrounding the loss of friends that occurred after the divorce.  This friend in particular, and his wife, were people I would spend time with nearly every weekend and sometimes during the week.  We would gather for baseball games, Mizzou basketball games, political debates.  We had dinner and went to parties and movies together regularly.  They were with me during the illnesses and deaths of most of my family members.  My dad passed away on New Years Eve and this friend joined my family that night as we pulled together and toasted the passing of a complex man and a difficult year.  I believed I was as close to this person as friends could be.  Yes, I met him through my ex – and they had been friends for a long time before I met them.  I thought, though, that we had a friendship that extended beyond the confined of mine and my exes relationship.  Don’t get me wrong, this is not the only friendship and relationship I have lost in the chaos of divorce, death and raising 4 traumatized children.  It’s just this was probably the closest and the event of his mom passing away brought all of this crashing in on me.  I was overwhelmed by sadness for his loss, missing this friendship more than I had realized I did, and a high level of awareness of the many others that have disappeared from my life.  It is hard to say if these relationships have dissapated because of choosing which of us to stay with in the aftermath of the divorce, or because of the drastic change in lifestyle I under went when the kids came into my life.

This is by no means meant to place blame.  It just is.  And it happened to hit hard this week how much I miss some of these friends.

Wednesday was parent-teacher conferences with Megan’s teachers.  School is always a hot-button for all of my kids.  I have described in earlier posts how Kenneth has struggled with the authoritarian environment common to all schools.  The girls, also having Attachment Disorder, have issues as well.  They manifest a bit differently, but the end result is the same – unhappy kids, unhappy teachers, unhappy mom.  If Megan likes a teacher, or if there are minimal requirements (art, music) – she is typically a star performer.  Subjects that require her to put forth effort, do homework and pay attention – not so much.  She starts high school next year, and in order for her to get into one that is safe and will provide her with what she needs to go to college, she needs to really kick into gear.  So, I was absolutely dismayed to see that she had C’s and a D in most of her core subjects.  The good new is, so was she.  She actually teared up – where in the past she would just brush it off and make a joke about it.  She sat with me and participated in discussions with the teachers about what she can do to bring her grades up.  The teachers were great – reinforcing the difference they see in the effort she is puting forth and encouraging her that if she follows through with their suggestions she will easily be an A-B student.  So, another night of emotional ups and downs.  In the end, I felt good ab0ut the conferences and Megan’s performance.  And, I was exhausted when I got home.

Then, yesterday, after work, I brought my 18 year old cat to the vet to be put to sleep.  I have had her for 17 years – she was given to me by my ex when we first started dating.  I named her Shadow – as in Me and My Shadow – she used to follow me everywhere.  We had to put our dog down just a couple of months ago and every death dredges up the kids’ fears and unresolved issues.  Patsy, who has been on rocky emotional terrain already took it especially hard.  She wanted to be with Shadow when the procedure was administered.  Once Shad went to sleep, Pasty began howling and bawling.  Now mind you, she had not interacted with this cat for weeks, maybe months – and she was often mean to her.  I found myself feeling so angry and resentful toward Patsy that I could hardly bear it.

This morning I was so tired and emotionally drained that I considered taking the day off of work – but since the kids were off school I realized it would actually be less stressful to go to the office.  Luckily I had no meetings and it was a quiet day.  After work I finally made it to the gym – the first time all week.  Thankfully that did wonders for my state of mind – along with the fact that it is finally Friday and I now have the weekend to recuperate. 

I have been working to be aware of all of life as a gift and to live in gratitude.  It is an interesting exercise to open up to sadness, resentment, aggrevation and emotional fatigue AND do so in gratitude.  It feels counter-intuitive and contradictory.  I am sure it will feel more natural as I do it more often.  Even now, though, it is a much less desparaging experience than to lamblast myself with guilt, shame, and self reproach.

It is a new and wonderful experience to treat myself with the same compassion, patience and gentleness as I do with the kids.  I highly recommend everyone give it a try.

copyrighted 10/30/09

A Heroes Journey
October 21, 2009

September 28, 1993 – He enters this world with a loud cry.  He had been in a warm, dark, safe place and suddenly, after being pushed and squished he was in a very cold, VERY bright, and terribly loud place.  His little chin quivered between his cries of protest.  Soon, though, he was warm and felt cozy.  He could hear a soft voice cooing to him.  Kenny eventually calmed down and nestled into the soft, yet firm place in the crook of his mother’s arm.

After that first strange and frightening day, things got much better for Kenny.  When he made his hungry sounds, mom or dad would feed him – rocking him gently.  When he made his uncomfortable cry they would change him and coo to him.  When he made his lonely whimper they would play and laugh with him.  He felt loved and safe. 

One day,though, without warning and while he was still a tiny baby, everything got strange and scary again.  There was a bigger house with more people.  Daddy wasn’t there anymore.  And now, when he made his hungry sounds, or uncomfortable cry, or lonely whimper, he never knew who would take care of him.  The man and woman, called Gramma and Grumpa, didn’t seem to understand him, rarely getting what he needs without him having to tell them over and over.  They were kind and loving, but it was very stressful and frustrating.

Before long, Kenny was beginning to crawl, talk and walk.  One day, as he was trying to walk, Kenny fell down.   Gramma Pat put really cold and tight things on him where it hurt – it didn’t feel good and he wanted to take them off.  Mom and Gramma told him he had a “bleed” and they needed to take him to the doctor to make his “owie” better.   Only when they got to the hospital, people stuck needles into him and pushed things through tubes into his arms.  Mom and Gramma Pat lied to him.  These doctors DID NOT make him feel better, they HURT him even worse!  Kenny decided he would never let them take him to the doctor again!  From then on, whenever he had to go to the doctor, he fought, cried and screamed.  He would get yelled at, punished and spanked.  He could never understand why… didn’t they get it – that he did not want to be hurt with the needles and all the tubes and hospital machines scared him.

Fortunately, Kenny did not get hurt bad enough to need shots very often – maybe 2 or 3 times a year.  So, for a few years things were pretty good.  Kenny liked helping Gramma Pat fold clothes, and taking bubble baths in her big bathtub.  His very, very favorite thing was sitting on Grumpa’s lap in his big reclining chair reading or watching TV.  Grumpa liked to act like he was a grouchy old man, but he loved to play with, cuddle and tickle Kenny.  Grumpa let Kenny ride on the tractor, took him to the hardware store, and let him sit on his lap in the morning and read the comics to him.  Even though he was only 3 years old, Kenny knew that he and Grumpa had a special love and that made him feel like a special little boy.

Then everything changed.  Mom decided to move in with her boyfriend.   While they were dating he seemed nice enough, but Kenny really didn’t want to leave Gramma and Grumpa’s house.  Once they moved into his house, Kenny’s nightmare really started.  Whenever Mom wasn’t in the room, her boyfriend would do really mean thing to him.  He would trip Kenny when he walked by and then yell at him for running in the house.  Sometimes, when Mom was in the next room, he would hit Kenny so hard he would knock him out of the chair, then yell at him and accuse him of mistreating the furniture.  Mom would come in the room and yell at him too, and send him to his room.  Kenny tried to explain what happened, then he would get punished for telling lies.  Since Mom’s boyfriend was as sneaky as he was mean, no adult ever saw what he was doing.  Soon, Kenny was so mad and so sad that he never smiled or laughed anymore.  He was always afraid of getting hurt by Mom’s boyfriend and getting in trouble for things he didn’t do.  On top of that, he still hated getting shots and was always fighting, kicking and screaming when he would get a bleed and need treatment.

Not long after they moved in, Mom had a baby and married her boyfriend.  Kenny became even more despondent – as this cruel monster was now his stepfather and the dad of his new little sister, Megan.  With the new baby’s arrival, Kenny’s step dad seemed to become even more harsh and abusive.  Just a few months after Megan joined the family, Kenny’s beloved Grumpa died.  The only person that Kenny believed truly knew what a sweet, happy, smart, loving little boy he was – was gone.  Kenny felt all alone in the world.

As Megan got older, she saw what her dad would do to Kenny.  She was told that Kenny was bad and he deserved it.  Megan believed her dad and soon she too was blaming Kenny for things he didn’t do.  Before long he had a well-known reputation as a bad kid, a liar, a mean bully and a generally rotten brat.  Kenny decided it was easier to act like the mean kid everyone believed him to be.  If he got close to anyone they would just leave or die anyway.  Besides, no-one believed him and he couldn’t trust them.

Kenny spent a miserable six years in this situation.  He had no friends his own age, no adults he could trust – no real happiness.  He was most content when reading stories about mythical heroes or playing video games.  He could be in control and the good guy usually won.  Kenny spent as much time as possible in these pursuits in order to escape the reality he despised.

When Kenny was 9, his life went from terrible to tragic.  Just after Christmas, Kenny’s older sister finally broke down and told Mom about the bad things their step dad had been doing to her.  Mom brought Kenny and his three sisters to a safe house.  Even though he was relieved to finally be away from his step dad, Kenny was furious.  He had been telling Mom how bad this man was for years – Cristi tells just once and Mom immediately believes her.  Kenny was filled with a boiling, raging anger!  He hated and mistrusted everyone more now than ever.

The people at the safe place wanted him to talk about the bad things his step dad did to him, but Kenny didn’t see the point.  He wasn’t going to be around anymore and no-one believed him before, so why waste his time with them now.  He just wanted to read his books and play video games.  He was nearly obsessed with video games – he could be in total control, he had all the power, and he could be the winner.  Kenny learned early on that he needed to be in control because he couldn’t trust anyone else to take care of him or keep him safe.  When he wasn’t in control, that is when terrible things happened.  He came to the conclusion that he was not worthy of love.  He was caught in a vortex of self loathing while still feeling compelled to survive.  The easiest way to get by was to just check out of his life and spend as much time as possible in the safe world of fantasy.

By summer break, Kenny, Mom and his sisters had left the safe place and moved into a house.  Kenny now decided he did not want that name any more – and insisted he be called Kenneth.  He also really  just wanted to be left alone and to play his video games.  It was just too scary and overwhelming to have to think about the past.  He didn’t trust anyone.  He had come to believe all of the bad things people had said about him – he was just a worthless, rotten kid that no-one wanted, so he didn’t want to be around any of them anyway.

One hot, sunny afternoon in July Kenneth was playing his video games while his sisters played with the kids across the street.  Mom had gone to her counseling appointment.  Kenneth didn’t say goodbye before she left because he was busy trying to beat a level in his game.  A few hours after Mom left, her friend came over and said they all had to go to her house because Mom had a car accident.  The lady said everything would be ok, but it would be a while before Mom could get home.  Kenneth didn’t think too much of it, packing his games up to bring over to her house.  He didn’t start to worry until it was after midnight and his aunt and uncles showed up at the lady’s house.  They had come to tell him and his sisters that their Mom was dead.

The next few days and weeks were a blur.  Aunt Meg brought him and his sisters to her house.  Kenneth remembers being at the funeral home, but mostly stayed in a back room watching videos with his cousins.  When he did think about what happened he was really mad.  He was too mad to even cry.  How could Mom have done this to him?  Another person who just lied and left him.  He felt like his anger was 10 times bigger than he was.  Even if he wanted to wrangle with it – it was far to overwhelming.  It felt like it had swallowed him up.  He wanted to hurt everyone around him and he swore he would NEVER trust anyone again.  He was the only person who could take care of him, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else even try.

Kenneth has now been with Aunt Meg for over 6 years – longer even than he had lived with his cruel step dad.  He learned a couple of years ago that he has an Attachment Disorder.  He understands better now why he has such over powering feelings and why he was always on high alert, on the verge of crisis, ready for fight or flight.  He and Aunt Meg have figured out some ways to help him repair some of the damage that happened to the part of his brain that affects his emotions, how to calm down when he is upset, and how to start trusting people again.  Kenneth has learned a lot since then –  He is bigger than any of his fears or anger.  His Mom loved him immensely, even though she made mistakes that lead to him being hurt.  He can be mad at her for that and still love her and forgive her.  He has learned he is actually pretty smart and there are a lot of ways to learn and grow.  He is starting to remember that he is a good person who is fun, silly, lovable and valuable.  He has talents and gifts and it feels good to use them.  He is also learning how rewarding it is to do nice things for the people he cares about and how good it feels to be recognized and appreciated.  One of his greatest learnings is that there is suffering in this world – and it happens to everyone.  It is not a punishment, it is just a part of life.  And that sharing those experiences with others who are kind and loving make them bearable and create the opportunity to learn and grow.  Kenneth is learning and growing everyday.  He sees that his past cannot hurt him.   There will certainly be challenging times ahead, and he is ready to meet them head-on. 

Kenneth is realizing that he doesn’t have to play a character in a video game to be the hero.

copyrighted 10/21/09

Slug-A-Bug, Love Bug!
September 22, 2009

Have you ever played the driving game “Slug-a-bug”?  I remember playing it as a kid with my brothers and sister.  My kids and I love to play it whenever we are out and about in the car.  It is amazing, it can seem like there are hundreds of volkswagen beetles on the road.  In fact, we often see so many that we include the color of the particular “bug” we are slugging – “slug-a-bug, yellow bug!”  Sometimes we switch it up and play “Cruiser-bruiser” or “twin car” – finding other Chrysler Pacifica’s.  If you aren’t really looking, or paying attention, it just seems like the road is filled with lots of generic cars.  But when you pay attention, and start looking, it is amazing how many Bugs, PT Cruisers and/or Pacifica’s are out there.

I have come to believe that life is like that.  If we are focused on everything that is wrong with the world, or our family or ourselves – that is what we will see.  And we will point to overwhelming evidence that the world is a frightening, unloving, evil, place filled with cruel, unfeeling, narcissistic beings.  It can seem like even people who act in kind ways are only doing so for purely selfish reasons.  Interestingly, when I have found my perspective to be skewed in this direction, I have also been in a most selfish, egocentric, fearful, angry state.  I actually began taking on the characteristics and behaviors of the environment and people I judged as maliscious and wicked.  I was so fearful of the dark, that I refused to open my eyes to face it.  I got so used to the dark, that I adapted to it and to some extent became a part of the darkness.

I cannot pinpoint any one person, incident, or statement that lead to my metamorphasis – I believe a vast number of miracles, loving acts, and fateful experiences were involved.  What was amazing, is that when I did open my eyes, I realized that it was only the act of keeping them closed that kept me in the dark. 

When I began to look for the light, it was everywhere.  When I started focusing on the kindness, love and beauty in me, in my life and in the world, I noticed these things existed in an overwhelmingly higher proportion than any of the things of which I was afraid. 

Just like when we play “slug-a-bug”, it seems that these cute little cars appear on roads, streets and highways more frequently than any other make and model.

The real miracle here is that I now fully understand that I have complete control over whether I live in a fear-ridden, cruel, vile world; or a safe, loving, peaceful world.  I get to choose. 

When I choose to focus on love instead of fear, I actually create my reality.  I begin attracting peaceful environments to me.  I manifest devoted, passionate people into my life who further support my  joy and gratitude for life.

The gift I most want to give to my loved ones is this perspective of abundant love.  I have learned that this is a gift that cannot be given away.  The only way I could ever hope to pass it on is by holding it close to my heart and living it completely.  Then, my kids, family, friends, and the world at large have the opportunity to experience the safety and c0mfort they need to open their eyes and see.

copyrighted 9/22/09

Looking on the Bright Side of Life
September 11, 2009

I know you aren’t supposed to count you chickens before they hatch – but I can’t help but feel good about how the kids are doing.

Kenneth has completed the first phase of the Transitions program he is enrolled in; life skills, financial literacy and drug awareness.  Within the next week or so he will take the TABE – which is sort of a pre-test for the GED.  It will help him and the staff know where to focus his  studying in preparation for the GED.  His caseworker says that Kenneth appears to be smart enough to pass the test by the end of the year.  That means he could be enrolled in Rankin Tech or ITT Technical Institute by the spring – working on a certification in computer programming and software design!  He is also going to be getting job readiness training and assistance to find a part-time job.

Kenneth has gotten himself to the public bus every morning, attended every session, and comes home happy and talking about what he learned that day.  The staff told me this week that he is very engaged, participates in class projects and discussions and has a lot of good thoughts to contribute to the group.  He is the youngest person in the class and the older kids have taken him under their wings.  He gets along well with them and actually joins the group during breaks to take walks or go buy a soda.

At home, he has been doing his chores without having to be reminded, is pleasant and cooperative with making dinner 3 nights and week and nearly every day has helped me with cleaning the kitchen, folding and puting away laundry, or straightening up the living room before we go upstairs for the night.  He greets me when I get home from work and asks how my day was and makes a point to come say goodnight to Tom and I.  He seems comfortable in his own skin and talks about how excited he is for his future!

Patsy, too, is making astounding progress.  She may still get upset and initially resist a request or get frustrated with a challenging task, but she is able to cam herself down, and not let these little incidences send her into a tail spin that lasts all day.  She has been getting up in a cheerful mood, getting ready for school on time – including making her bed, cleaning up after her self when she eats, and remembering to brush her teeth!  She comes home and gets to work pretty quickly on her homework and does her chores cooperatively.  She has even been getting ready for bed on time, often without having to be told to!  I think we both look forward to snuggle time just before she goes to bed!

Megan has become a fun, happy, silly teenager!  She is really enjoying school and talks a lot about how what she is learning is going to help her get into a good high school and go on to college.  She thinks she might want to be a veterinarian and there is a Magnet school nearby with a pre-vet program.  It is a pretty competitive application process and she is starting to think about what kinds of experiences will help her get in.  Our new canine family member has designated Megan as her personal companion and Megan has enthusiastically accepted the role.  Megan makes sure Gracie Mae gets at least 2 walks a day, keeps her food and water bowls full and is a training expert!  It is so funny – if Gracie doesn’t understand what Megan wants, Megan gets down on all 4s and shows her.  Gracie watches and does exactly what Megan just did!  We spend more time laughing watching the two of them!

On top of all of this good news, Cristi has been spending time with us and it has been thoroughly enjoyable!  We have made plans that she and her boyfriend, Henry will come over to visit and for dinner every other Sunday.  This week she requested Tom’s Totally Awesome French Toast – we are all looking forward to that!

I imagine my new commitment to taking care of myself is contributing to this newfound peace and quite in our household.  I make sure that I get to the gym for 30 minutes or more 3 times a week and every other Saturday I get 4 or more hours for me.  I have been making plans to meet friends for breakfast or lunch, do an extra long workout, and get my nails done.  I don’t know how to begin to describe how much this has improved my mental health and general outlook!

I am not completely naive, I know there will still be ups and downs.  It is just nice to be experiencing more frequent and longer lasting “ups”.

Copyrighted 9/11/09

September 9, 2009

I love dates that are number patterns – like today – 09/09/09, or in July – 7/8/9.  I don’t really know why.  It seems in general we are drawn to patterns and that we give great significance to certain numbers and patterns.  Deeming some lucky and some evil.  Like 6-6-6.  Was June 6, 2006 an evil day?  Is it bad luck if your lunch bill is $6.66?  Is 9-9-9 the opposite of evil, or evil to the 3rd power?

What if there is no evil?

It is interesting to me that people often react with more fear at that thought, than the thought that true evil exits.  I find that mind boggling.

I grew up Catholic – and it seems the religion I was taught was more about the struggle between good and evil than it was about the message that God is the all loving creator of all life.  There were many more hours spent teaching me about evil and punishment than ever dedicated to love and forgiveness.

I can remember as as small child being very confused by the two versions of God that were preached.  God is all loving, all forgiving, the father of all creation who granted us free will and who is omnipotent – and – God is vengeful, God punishes sin, God judges, and God only accepts into his heavenly kingdom those who obey his laws. 

First of all, if God is all powerful, how could there be a fallen angel or a devil at war with him?  Especially if he is also vengeful?  He would blast that evil soul out of existence.  If he created something, he can certainly uncreate it if he doesn’t like it.  A being is either all powerful or not all powerful.  I can’t imagine an all powerful being tolerating a demon running around harrassing his beloved creations.  It just doesn’t make sense to me.

And…if God granted us free will, why would he judge and punish us for using it??  That would be like me telling my kids “Sure, you can eat all the ice cream you want!”, then grounding them for life for doing so.  Again, I cannot find the logic in that.

I know lots of people will say that the bible tells us that God judges and punishes and has set out the rules for what is right and what is wrong.  It seems to me that since the bible was written by human beings it is likely that their own interpretations, life experiences, culture, and belief systems are intertwined with the enlightenment with which they were graced.  It is still man’s take on God’s word.

So, what if evil does not exist?  What if this war between good and evil is really our human experience of balancing our holy selves with our human selves; our spirit with our ego?  Every act I can think of that I have heard people define as evil seems to me to be directly connected to ego-centricity or even ego-mania.  Ego is of the physical world – it is concerned with self and self importance.  Spirit is of the metaphysical world and is concerned with the the whole of life experience.  When ego is in the power seat, it can drive one to act in ways that can be described as greedy, envious, prideful, and lustful.  When one is in touch with their spirit, they are more likely to act in ways defined as charitable, patient, kind, and full of humility.

Having my kids has driven this home for me more than any other experience I have encountered in my life.  I have come to understand that these kids live in mortal fear of being abandoned, abused and neglected.  They did not have the capacity to trust that anyone would be there to take care of them, keep them safe, and love them.  This excessive fear has caused them to act out in ways that on the surface look to be greedy, gluttonous, vengeful, and ungrateful.

They are not evil children, they are frightened children.  Fear is the fuel of Ego – the more fear, the greater the control ego has in ones life.

Initially I reacted to my kids the way I had learned to as a “good Catholic”.  Judge the behavior and punish it.  Meet fear with power.  Assert my ego over theirs.

But, when I let go of my fears of not being loved and appreciated, I understood.  I began to meet their fear with emapthy.  To soothe their fears, not face them down.  To bathe them in kindness, regardless of how they treated me.  To be vulnerable and let them see my vulnerability.  Yes, I still expect them to do what I ask, to follow the rules, to be responsible.  And I request it instead of demanding it.  I use humor, compassion and gentle words.

I am not perfect.  I still let my ego-driven pride interfere sometimes.  I still lose my temper on ocassion.  Not as often though.  And we all laugh more.  And hug more.  And our home is calmer and more peaceful.

And I wonder…wouldn’t an all loving, all powerful all forgiving God be more like what I am trying to be?  Wouldn’t it make sense that he is all Spirit and no ego?? 

I am pretty sure that he is at least as proud of us, his creations, for who we are as I am of my kids.

And if I’m wrong….

I think he will forgive me ^~^

copyrighted 9/9/09

In Praise of Obstacles
August 31, 2009

I read two statements this week that have stayed with me: from the Deepak Chopra website – “Obstacles are opportunities  in disguise.”, and from the Facebook application On This Day God Wants You to Know – “Prayer is when you talk to God. Meditation is when you become quiet and listen to God. You’ve learned how to talk and ask well. Time to learn how to listen and hear, because God has been answering you.”.

At first blush these two statements don’t seem connected.  What I have learned is that they are directly related.

It seems that for most of us, when we encounter an obstacle, or things aren’t playing out the way we want them to, we pray for the discomfort or unpleasantry to be removed or to cease.  What might happen if instead we meditated?  What if we thanked God for bringing the issue to our attention?  Then took time to ask what opportunity is being presented to us?

It is easy to be grateful for the “good” things.  For happy times.  How often are we appreciative to be “stuck” in traffic, delayed at the airport, or receive a speeding ticket?  A recent article by John Vanderbilt, In Praise of Traffic Tickets, indicates that a recent study in New York City found when speeding citation reduced by 11%, traffic fatalities increased by the exact same percentage.  How many of us, after having received a ticket, begin, at least for a while, to pay more attention to our speed and generally take traffic laws more seriously?  What if that extra degree of care and attention actually prevented us from a serious accident that we otherwise would have been in?  Just the possibility that this could be true is enough to make me rethink my reactions to circumstances and events that I typically consider to be obstacles.

Thinking about this has made me very aware of how I judge the world around me, as if on autopilot.  I get impatient as the person in front of me at the self-check out talks on the phone while she is scanning her purchases.  I snarl at the person who passes me on the shoulder in traffic.  I have let an obnixious remark from my15 year old spoil my mood for the entire day.

I been working to catch myself in these moments and ask where the opportunity might be in these obstacles.  Maybe if I had used the longer wait in the checkout line to review my list of needed items, I would have remembered to buy the dish detergent.  If I had been paying more attention to the driver behind me, I might have noticed he was in a hurry and I could have moved over to let him pass.  If I was looking for Gods gift in Kenneth’s response, I might have gone to give Kenneth a hug (that his resistance indicates he really needs) and we both would have felt loved, respected and grateful.

It will take vigilance to monitor my thoughts and to consciously decide how to react to the large and the small, the “good” and the “bad” life experiences that I am so blessed to be granted.  I think this may be the best way to hear Gods answers.  I believe that it will be worth the effort. 

copyrighted 8/31/09