Foster Further

 After two trips to Goodwill to give away her favorite toys the message might have sunk in that we will no longer tolerate any lying.  Today felt like tip-toeing around each other. I am extremely careful not to ask her any question I don't already know the answer to. I cannot let her get away with a lie. I also just don't want her to lie.  She seems equally wary of me. But also--a little happy. First thing this morning she said she wanted to have a good day (which is her code for I'm going to behave today).  About mid-morning I was mildly curious about why the cover I normally keep on their bench that they sit on when at the table was tucked oddly. I called all three kids over and, carefully not looking at her, I asked if anyone could, "tell me the story about this sheet" with a big smile on my face. Carefully conveying this was No Big Deal.  I was prepared to drop it if no one spoke up. No inquisition--not worth it.  But, to my surprise, she piped right up and sa

 This girl has taken me to a place I never thought I'd be. I'm now in danger of being covertly filmed and shamed on social media as the mean mom.  Twice today I drove Jane to Goodwill with a bag of beloved toys and forced her to say good-bye to the toys and then drop them off. Twice. In one day. I never dreamed I'd do anything like this as a parent. These actions seem desperate and short-sighted. They seem more cruel and damaging than a spanking. Yet, here we are.  For about the past six months I've done as our therapist suggested. He says she is acting from a place of deep shame due to the neglect in her early years. He says she is drawn to the naughty behavior because she cannot see herself as a good person. He says she is an empty pit that needs to be incessantly loved and filled again and again and again. That she'll never be able to do the right thing until she feels full of love and worthy.   I still kind of believe him. I mean, I don't disbelieve that she

 It's been a rough week...month...year...I don't even know anymore. When did it start, and stop, being difficult? I can't define those moments anymore.  My life isn't like climbing a mountain and descending the other side and looking back and saying, well, phew, that's over. Nope. My life is like being a rock on the beach just within reach of the waves. Ebb and flow, ebb and flow. Storms and calm, little good things, little bad things. Relentless. Constant. Unceasing. Why do I say all that? To put today's conversation in context. Yes, it was a big revelation. But, really, not that big. Ebb and flow. After other big conversations like this I've felt close to her and hopeful about our future. I've made big statements that, "we're finally bonding now!!" No. No, we weren't. And we never will. She isn't ever really going to trust and love me. Not in the deep way that children and their mothers are inexplicably bonded. I'll be family