Just the Garden Variety Sh*tstorm We've Come to Expect

 I knew Theo and I had a meeting with the school principal after school today that would require the kids to go to the school's after care program. I knew for 3 days and I didn't prep them for the change in routine. I kinda kept forgetting but I also just didn't want to face the fallout ahead of time. 

90% of the time I tell them about hard stuff before it happens. I'm really good about that because I know it's so critical in establishing trust. I know future disruptions will be easier of I do the current one correctly. I embrace the up-front chaos as a painful, but short-term, necessary evil for long-term pay off. 

But today I didn't. A tiny part of me was curious. After all these months of stability, how much fall-out would there be?

Well, this afternoon I found out. 

Kate was sad. She cried over miniscule injustices every 15 minutes like clockwork. Each event sent her into my arms, saying, "I want you, mama." Inbetween each of these events she followed me around. Once I made the mistake of going to the bathroom and that set off the biggest wailing. "I didn't know where you WERE!" she wailed. 

Every single time I picked her up and held her and talked about it. Named the emotions. Named the situation. Talked about why it was rare. Why it was survivable. (You're sad because mama didn't pick you up like normal. You're mad because you didn't know where I was. I knew where you were and you were okay. Mama was in the building I was just in another room but I could see you playing on the playground and I knew you were safe. I was there watching you, even though you didn't know where I was. This won't normally happen but today it did. Even on this strange day mama still picked you up, I didn't leave you.) This was the script I went through at least 20 times from 4:30 to 7pm. 

Meanwhile, James was fine. Happy, oblivious boy. Confident and unfazed after the initial explanation of where we were. This is how un-traumatized children respond.

And then there's Jane. Oh Jane. She went full on pissy. Some kids target the animal pet in the house when they're upset. They look for something smaller and weaker than themselves to take out their anger upon. Jane uses her little sister Kate that way. I've become more and more alert to the need to protect, and separate, Kate from Jane at times like these. 

After we got home and the kids had a snack, I sent them outside to blow off some steam. Kate, being very sad and mopey, told Jane she wanted to play by herself. Jane, unaware I was there, leaned over and in the most perfectly sweetly malicious tone, told Kate, "You play with me. I'm your sssssiissssstter." (It was the way she drew out that last word that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.)

I stepped into the room, took Jane by the arm, removed her from the room, and then calmly sent Kate from the house. Because I didn't want her to witness what was about to come. After Kate was outside I turned and lit into Jane. I've had it with her manipulation and I decided to blow off some of my own steam. After I was done telling her exactly what I knew about her behavior towards Kate, I felt better. Then, as a consequence, I sent jane to play by herself in the front yard and forbade her from playing with Kate.

We know where this is going, right?

Twenty minutes later Kate has come inside anyway--she can't stand being away from me--and I see Jane go by the window, clearly in the backyard seeking out Kate. I didn't do anything then. 

Just before dinner I found Jane whispering in Kate's ear. I asked her what it was about and she, baby talking and pouting, said "cant member". (This is one of her inadvertent cues that she's lying.) I waited till bedtime, had Kate alone and asked what Jane had been whispering. Without hesitation, Kate says that Jane was saying she had a plan next time I tried to separate them and she would sneak by me and always get to Kate.

So, then I get Jane alone and I gently take her in my arms, rub her back, remind her that I love her and want to help her. Remind her that she never gets in trouble when she tells the truth. Practice having her tell the truth. Get her in a calm, safe mood, because just this once I want the predictable shit storm to not happen and I want to see that Jane has grown and I want to help her take a different path than the same old self-destructive one she's been on since I met her. I get her as perfectly supported and primed to tell the truth as I possibly can and then I gently ask her what she whispered to Kate at dinnertime. 

Jane lied. Of course she did. Doesn't matter what I do. She is in this pissy mood and she's feeling all the effects of all the trauma and she'll self-saboutage every time. I spanked her. That's the consequence for lying. It's non-negotiable. I gave her two tiny swats she could barely feel but enough that I followed through. Then, when she was crying I asked her if she did go into the back yard and she told the truth this time. I did not spank her. 

I spent the next ten minutes getting her calm and carefully walking her through the consequences she chose for herself. First she lied--she got spanked. Then she told the truth--she did not get spanked. Connecting and reconnecting it all for her over and over. Getting her to verbalize it. Getting her to reason it through. Getting her to internalize that she chose this consequence and she always has the power to choose.

And also, at the very end, telling her that Kate told me the truth and Kate has learned not to do the naughty thing so Jane will be the only one getting in trouble now and she can't get Kate in trouble anymore. That really shocked her. Her whole demeanor changed as she processed that concept. Being out there, adrift, unable to control her little pet. THAT bothered her a hundred times more than the spanking. 

So, to summarize: schedule was broken; kids felt scared; girls' abandonment issues were triggered; Jane got pissy and saboutaged herself; Kate got sad and clingy. 

Should I have told the kids about the change in schedule? Yep. But, on the other hand, this is real life. I cannot put them in a bubble. Sometimes plans will go awry. And everyone will still be okay in the end. The lesson is that we all survived a small upheaval. Kate got to verbalize all her feelings. Jane got the same-old-same-old lesson of choices and consequences she's been relearning every week for two years now. 

I feel. Hmm. Curiously okay. I have wondered for a long time what it'd be like to be "on the other side" of the adoption experience. I didn't even know what that other side was or how I'd know I was there, but I just had to keep on hoping that at some point I would be in a better place. I think we're getting there. Sadly, it isn't hearts and roses and falling in love with these two girls and feeling all the feels. I wish the Hollywood version were real but it just isn't. Instead, the "other side" is knowing what's coming and being able to weather it and not get emotionally overwhelmed by dealing with it. I have one sick and one needy kid. I do. They need what they need during the hard times and I am not surprised by that need anymore. I don't like the medicine but at least I'm not surprised that they need it. 

This isn't the perfect place I want our family to be in. But at least it's familiar.