Today I woke up to a big, smacky kiss on the cheek from my early-bird son. He gave me a heart that he cut out of paper with a plastic spoon and two Hershey's kisses taped on it. It said "A spoonful of love and a couple of kisses. I hope you enjoy your Mother's Day wishes."

After years of hating Mother's Day because it only served to remind me of everything I didn't have, here I am today with almost everything I could ever hope for. And it's wonderful. It's fulfilling. And I am happy.

But, unexpectedly, my thoughts are somewhat torn. Here I am, with this wonderful boy in my life. I am blessed beyond measure. But despite my lofty happiness there are two thoughts that are keeping me grounded on this day... my very first Mother's Day.

In a tiny little village in Tyumen, Russia, there's another little boy that I love with whole heart. It's been years since I spoke to him, yet my love for him is as current as it ever was. I miss him and think of him every day. But, despite every effort, I wasn't allowed to be his mother. Another woman is caring for him, and hopefully showering him with the love and support I would have given him. She is a lucky woman indeed. So today I'm sending her Mother's Day wishes. May she always know the gift that she has in Peanut. May she always treasure him. May she encourage his strengths and help steer him down the paths that will lead him to a fruitful and happy life. And may she always give him a kiss on his nose... because it makes him giggle. And I hope that somehow he knows that he has another mother here in the US that has never stopped loving him.

Today I am also thinking of Slugger's birth mom. I wonder if she's thinking about Slugger today. Wondering where he is, if he's loved and cared for. For Slugger's sake, I hope that she is thinking of him. For her sake, I hope that she has more peace than that. Because I've lost Peanut, I can almost understand how N, Slugger's birth mom, might feel. Obviously the circumstances were very, very different. But we've both lost children. I have to trust in this unknown woman in Russia. I have to trust that she will care for my boy well. Similarly, N has no other choice but to trust that DHS has found a good family for her son. Her parental rights were terminated while Slugger was in his first long-term foster home. I wonder if she knows that he was adopted once. I wonder if she knows that his first adoption disrupted. I wonder if she knows he no longer lives in the same state that she does. My guess is that she knows nothing. And my heart breaks for her. So today, I'm sending her Mother's Day wishes as well. I wish her peace and I hope that she can trust that her son is cared for. I love him more than life, N. I will take care of him always.

"We have noticed with teens and defiant kids, you really have to have things that are allowed by grace. Not because you earned them, but just because you are loved. If you are constantly on top of them and they are being punished for everything, then pretty soon there is nothing to look forward to in life. We all deserve some love and a soft place to land sometimes, just because."

Well said, Jo. Thank you for saying it. I couldn't agree more.

Slugger had his first baseball game tonight. He hit a home run. Later, he went to sleep with a smile on his face. I don't think I could love this kid more if I tried.

It seems that every time Slugger gets through one stage he shifts right into a new one.

Oh, what I wouldn't give for some time off his stages.

Lately, his rampant disrespect, hatefulness, tantrums, and rages seem to have waned. To this I say Thank the Lord. But, in an uncharacteristically efficient fashion, Slugger replaced his anger immediately with lies.

When Slugger first moved in, lying really wasn't much of a problem. Though Slugger does have RAD, the bold-faced lies that are typical of the disorder never really seemed to present themselves. Sure, I'd catch him in a lie now and then and sometimes they'd be crazy lies, but it was infrequent. Over the winter I noticed an increase in lying. But lately... wow. It's gotten to a point where I can't trust a single thing that comes out of his mouth.

He lies about obviously untrue things. Such as "I brushed my hair, Mom!" Even though the bed head is still in full force. He lies about things that don't matter what-so-ever. Such as "My high-tops are in the basket." Even though he knows that they aren't. He lies to get away with things. Such as saying he completed his chores or homework when he didn't in an effort to be allowed to go play earlier. He lies to avoid trouble. He lies just for the sake of lying.

I have spent tons of time reading my books, checking online, and asking fellow parents for advice. So far, nothing fits the bill exactly. Lies are an issue that I just don't know how to correct. A while back I initiated the Pinocchio Meter. But I soon discontinued it. It had gotten to a point where Slugger had too many behaviors charts and methods and still everything wasn't being addressed. I was constantly struggling to come up with logical and natural consequences. So, I changed most of his behavior systems to one system -- now he can earn "behavior points" or have them taken away. It's a much simpler system. (For those of you that are familiar with the charts I had going, I did keep the three-strike system for outdoor play rules. We've had that since last July and it's working well. I didn't want to fix what wasn't broken.) However, the behavior point system has one major flaw. Everything -- disrespect, not listening, lying, etc -- has the same consequence. It's easier, yes. But I question how much Slugger is learning from it. And learning is, of course, the point behind any behavior chart.

Slugger's lies have become habitual. And that is something that scares me a bit. All kids lie at some point or another. But letting lies become a habit is not a good thing. I have lectured Slugger till I was blue in the face -- but talky-talky speeches are complete exercises in futility. I have tried to give him visuals to explain trust. (I wrote TRUST on a piece of paper, and ripped it over and over saying that's what happens to trust when you lie. Then, I had him tape it back together to see that it isn't the same and it would take a long time to get perfect trust again.) He thought the visual exercise was fun, but I don't think he learned a darn thing because he doesn't really seem to care if I trust him or to understand what the benefit of me trusting him is.

For a long time, when I thought Slugger was lying I'd tell him that I wasn't sure that was the truth and would ask him to take a minute. Then I would give him another chance to tell me the truth. (Yondalla's suggestion.) It worked. For a while. But my kid has well earned his nickname of "Mr. Loophole." He kind of figured out the whole "take a minute" thing and has instead started sticking to his lies like glue.

So now I'm trying something new. Ever since Slugger has moved in I make teaching empathy a part of our daily routine. For Slugger, empathy does not come naturally at all. Occasionally I see glimpses of it. For example, there's a ASPCA commercial on TV that almost brings him to tears. But, for the most part, Slugger has little to no capacity to read other's emotions. Empathy, of course, is a necessary ability. You must have empathy to have good friendships, to have relationships, to work in a professional environment. To help him with this, I point things out. I ask him to look at my face and hear my voice when I'm feeling particularly sad/happy/frustrated/angry/etc. I point out others emotions/feelings to Slugger. For example, Slugger and one of my nephews were supposed to help my dad with a job. Slugger helped for about 5 minutes and then took off to play basketball. (I wasn't with them or I would have never allowed that.) Later, my dad paid my nephew $10 and Slugger $2. I later tried to explain that to Slugger. I asked him to recognize that my dad was sweating and breathing hard. I asked him to think of how his Grandpa wasn't smiling and how his forehead was wrinkled. I asked Slugger to think of how genuine my dad's thank you was to my nephew, but how short and clipped it was for Slugger. It was a hard lesson for Slugger to learn, but I think it was valuable. (And yes, he later called and apologized to my dad.)

So lately, I've decided to take the empathy lessons and apply them to Slugger's lying. Last Friday Slugger told a big whopper of a lie. I was very disappointed and very angry with him. So I asked him to describe how my face looked and how my voice sounded. We used a behavior mapping chart and I drew smiley and sad faces to show how I felt. I told him that if he had told the truth I still would have been disappointed in the action he was trying to hide by lying, but not nearly as angry and disappointed as I was by the lie.

Today I had my first opportunity to do the opposite. For the first time in a long time, Slugger chose to tell me the truth about something difficult tonight. I was able to calmly give him the consequence for what he did wrong, but then also congratulate him on telling the truth. Then, I asked him to look at my face and listen to my voice. He said I "was calm." Yes. Yes! I was calm. I tried to explain that this is the result of his telling the truth. Yes, he did something and he has a consequence for it. But I wasn't upset and I wasn't disappointed. It's too soon to tell, but I think he might have learned a lesson tonight.

It's a tricky game, really. Teaching empathy and teaching him to realize his impact on others. I don't want him to feel that he's responsible for my anger. I am, after all, the adult and I have control over how I react. (Though sometimes you wouldn't know it. I've been reduced to tantrums that a three-year-old would be jealous of by some of Slugger's behavior.) I'm toeing a fine line between teaching him to recognize other's emotions, understand how his actions can affect other people, but also know that he's ultimately not responsible for other people's reactions.

I know that teaching Slugger empathy is going to be a life-long process. His FAE makes empathy very difficult for him. But I'm hoping that, in the short-term, he'll at least learn enough to realize that there are benefits for truthfulness. I'm hoping to help him realize that a calm, pleasant home is much more desirable than an angry, stressed environment. And I'm hoping to help him understand that trust is something that's worth while.

Sometimes, I need to take a good, long look in the mirror.

Slugger can be a sweetheart, but he can also be a real stinker. He's always had some level of defiance, but lately he's been quite defiant. To the point that he's quite difficult... to the point where it's sometimes embarrassing to be out in public with him. Last week we had a night where his defiance reached a high point and I was so incredibly frustrated. After I got him in bed (by physically carrying him up there), I spent some time researching ODD and defiance in children.

I was looking to Dr. Google for a bit of reassurance. At the time, what would have made me feel good was an article that said "Your kid is a real shit and it's amazing that you continue to put up with it. What a wonderful mom you are." Yep, that would have made me feel really good. But instead of finding what I wanted to read, I found something I needed to read.

Basically, the article states that parents can generate the exact behavior they're trying to extinguish by being overly intrusive and ordering their child around. I've never, ever been the type of parent that believes a child must obey everything I say. Children are not robots. However, what I try to teach Slugger is that he must always listen to me first and then, if he disagrees with what I'm asking of him or if he doesn't understand it, he can ask questions. But he must listen first and ask questions later. Depending on the situation, I may change my mind about whatever I'm asking of him. Usually, I explain my point of view and stick to my guns. But I do believe he has the right to ask why and he has the right to have an opinion.

For example, this winter I signed Slugger up for a karate class (which was a joke and we ended up dropping out). As we were leaving, Slugger asked another kid to have a running race with him. I called out that it wasn't a good idea and the other boy's parents agreed. The other boy immediately stopped running and went back to his parents. Slugger, ran faster and called out "why?" He never stopped running all the way to the car when I finally explained that there was black ice all over the parking lot and I didn't want him to slip and fall. This type of behavior is why it's necessary for him to listen first and then ask questions. We discussed it and I saw a marked improvement in his "listen-then-ask" behavior after that night.

But in the past couple of months, his behavior has deteriorated.

As Slugger's defiance has built up and has developed more anger and control behind it, my parenting style has changed. I slowly shifted from my non-robot-child style of parenting and moved into more of a barking, do-what-I-say-immediately type of mom. I turned into the type of mom that got angry every time their kid didn't do exactly as ordered. The type of mom I swore I would never be. The type of mom that disturbs the hell out of me when I see them in public. I'd been working so hard to teach Slugger to act with respect and to think like a family, yet I wasn't treating him with much respect. It was such a slow and subtle change, I hadn't really even realized it until I read that article.

The article states "I see parents (often, but not always, a mother) who feel defeated, frustrated, angry, and depressed by the running battles. They feel guilty and are embarrassed by their child's behavior -- what they see as his horrible manners, his rudeness, his sloppiness. Feeling helpless and angry, they rage at the child, throwing temper tantrums themselves."

My reaction when I read that sentence? "Dear God, that's me."

To make me feel even shittier, the article continued "There is yet another worrisome parental pattern that I sometimes see among parents of defiant children. They become so drained of energy in the power struggles, and so angry at their child that, without meaning to, they inadvertently become less nurturing and empathetic. There is less love and understanding in the family as a whole."

My reaction when I read that? "Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it..."

So even though it hurt my heart to read that article, I'm oh-so-glad I did. It was a gut check. A wake up call. Yes, my son is terribly defiant. His behavior at times is utterly out of control. His behavior is unacceptable and it can't continue. But I need to continue being the right type of parent. I need to have empathy and to treat him with respect. I have to parent him in ways that don't generate even more defiance. I can't add fuel to his fire. I have to be the anchor -- the calming force that keeps the raging waters of his anger in control. I have to be a teacher, not a contributing factor.

His defiance is born from a lack of security and trust. He's struggling for control in a world where he feels very much out of control. While his attachment to me is ever growing, he has Reactive Attachment Disorder and may never form a fully healthy attachment. There may always be a part of him that feels disconnected and unsure. So if he can control me -- control my reactions, control my mood, control my environment maybe he'll feel more secure. If he can control his own world -- whether or not he does his homework, how much/how little he eats, what he wears, where he goes -- maybe he'll feel more secure. As much as he loves me, he has to continue to test me and he has to continue to try to grab control. When he has the bull by the horns, at least he can be responsible for his own hurting.

When I responded to his defiant behaviors with defensiveness (such as "don't you talk to me in that tone") I was only exacerbating his behaviors. When I ordered him around like a mindless robot, I was only stripping further control from him, generating more fear, and thus creating more defiance. When I was criticizing him for not listening and for being "selfish" I was knocking down a self-esteem that barely exists to start with.

So what's the answer? I can't give Slugger free rein to not listen, do as he pleases, and be horribly rude to me. I can't let him continue to treat me with an utter lack of respect. I can't let him grow up to be a man without discipline, without self-control, and without respect for others.

And I don't have to. I can teach him the right way to be, while still decreasing (if not fully extinguishing) his defiance. I can help him learn to trust and to feel secure. I can bolster his self-esteem. I can help him learn what it means to truly be in a family.

I already had all the building blocks I needed to help Slugger. Just, as things got more difficult, I had forgotten some of them. But I'm back on the right path now.

• I'm remembering to keep the structure in our lives. Stick to a schedule that Slugger knows and can trust. He may not always like the schedule, but it's reliable.
  
• I'm remembering to not engage in his arguments. For example, Slugger has to complete his chores and his homework after school. He can't go out and play until this is complete. However, rather than commanding that he do his homework RIGHT NOW, I give him the choice. He has to complete his homework and chores before he can go play, but if he wants to take time to watch some TV or relax before doing those things, that's fine. That may not work with every child, but Slugger values outdoor play time above everything else. He still fights homework ("I'm NOT doing my homework. You CAN'T MAKE ME!!!!"), but the result is so much better when I don't argue with him. Not too long ago I'd get into a talky-talky discussion about how homework is important. To Slugger, I'm sure that sounded like the wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah of Charlie Brown's teacher. Lately, when he throws down his no-homework gauntlet, I just say "That's OK. Take your time if you want to. When you're done you can go outside and play." By doing so, I'm not only avoiding an argument, I'm putting the control back in his court. He may not like it, but he has the power to do his homework and chores and go play or to sit and pout and lose all of his free time. It's up to him to make the right choice.
• I'm remembering to let the little things go. When we've got bigger fish frying, is it really a big deal that Slugger's shoes are on the living room floor? Is the world going to end because he forgot to bring a glass to the sink when he was done with it? Does it matter if he puts his clothes in his hamper immediately after taking them off, or is it OK that he does it before he goes to bed? When we have big respect issues and bigger problems, I have to remember to pick my battles. I have to keep the long-term goals in mind. If he grows up to a man without self-control and respect, we've got a big problem on our hands. If he grows up to be a man who doesn't bring his dishes to the sink, he might piss off his wife but it's really no big deal.
  
• I'm remembering to take every opportunity to praise him and give him affection and love. He responds so well to specific praise (general "you're-a-great-kid" stuff stresses him out). For example, today he looked for some images online for a school project. I told him he did a great job and the images were perfect for his assignment. For an hour afterward, he kept saying "I really did good, didn't I, Mom?" That tiny bit of praise meant SO much to him, that he needed to keep hearing it over and over. His self-esteem is terribly low and he needs reminders that he has worth and that he is a wonderful kid.
  
• I'm remembering to bide my time. Sometimes, when he is defiant or rude, that isn't the time to address it. Sometimes I just need to take a deep breath, don't engage, and defuse the situation. Later, when he's calm, I can talk to him about what he did/how he spoke to me and help him figure out other choices he could have made.
  

It's so hard to remember all of this. Particularly when his behavior can be so maddening. But his behavior is not a reflection of me, so I can't take it so personally. His behavior is a reflection of his past and of his insecurities. Already, just in the few short days since reading that article and getting my own little slap in the face, I've seen a change in his behavior. He's still defiant, of course, but things don't escalate as much and I've been able to stay less emotional about it all. I think we've got a long, long road in front of us when it comes to teaching Slugger to behave with respect and to think like a family. These are not things that come naturally to him. But I know he's got it in him. And I know that somewhere, deep inside, he doesn't really want control at all. He just wants security. He wants to fully trust that he belongs and that he is loved unconditionally and forever.

He does have security. He does belong. He is loved unconditionally. And he will be loved forever. I just need to be the eyes that help him see that.

Labels: Alphabet Soup, Speed Bumps