Foster Further

 It's been several weeks since The Big Consequence of losing a toy if Jane lies was enacted. After that first day when we took two trips she hadn't had another incident. It felt miraculous; and tentative.  But, also, it was wondrous to see her finally blooming. I feel like she's become happier by the day. Now that she herself has finally decided to live an honest and open life she's so much more affectionate and healthy in her interactions. No more always trying to monitor everything so she could gauge how to respond; always guarding her true feelings.  I also think she's become more resilient. If I do have to discipline her for something now it feels like she can bounce back and return to a calm, connected state quicker. I used to worry that one incident could send her reeling for days--and always with the looming fear that she'd do something harmful in retaliation. Now, if she forgets to put her shoes away I can tell her and it's no big deal.  So, after we...

 Jane has not told a lie (to my knowledge) since the day we drove to Goodwill twice to give away some of her toys. At least, I haven't directly asked anything of her and had her lie (I have no idea if she's told a lie of omission).  Tonight at bedtime we were talking. Earlier today her little sister got angry, instead of grateful, when Jane tried to tell her something. Jane's feelings were hurt because she loves to be an expert and boss Kate around. I asked her to wonder why Kate reacted that way.  That led to a conversation about the natural consequence of being someone your sister can't trust anymore. Jane has led Kate into punishment too many times for Kate to follow her any more. Jane finally really felt that pain. For years we've tried to tell her that being untrustworthy would only hurt her but somehow she never made the connection--until today. She cried and cried. It was all hitting her. She lies > Kate distrusts > Kate won't play with her > Jan...

 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...

 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 ...

 Just for the record--yesterday when the eldest son packed up for college that triggered a reshuffling of all the kids' bedrooms. So, in one day I rounded up, washed, dried, folded, and organized every single piece of clothing for all 5 kids. Then, I emptied bedrooms, cleaned them, rearranged furniture, and put back every single piece of clothing.  Sometimes I feel guilty that I don't get more done. Then I remember that I have 5 kids and what the day to day reality of that entails.

 This week James had his birthday. He turned 6. Usually in the week before any kid's birthday I do a feel special things for them. For example, I might make their favorite breakfast one of the mornings. Or, if I need to run to the store anyway I'll take just that one kid and make it a 1:1 outing with me. When I do these small things I'll say, "this is your birthday week!" and that way it prolongs the celebration and makes the kid feel special for more than just one day.  For two years now Jane has struggled on Kate and James' birthdays. She doesn't appear jealous or angry on anyone else's birthdays--just those of the two little kids who are her playmates.  After reading a new book and having an in-person session with our therapist I've tried to be more intentional about naming her feelings, even the difficult ones that I'd like to avoid.  So, on the morning of his birthday I pulled her aside and brought up the topic. I told her that I knew she ...