A Saturday

We all got up a bit late. Me later than the kids. I was awake, listening to them on the monitors but not stirring much, just being lazy. They came down and we all cuddled in my bed for a few minutes before getting up to greet the day. Breakfast for all and then packing up for a day at my Mom's former house. Lots of fruit and salad was packed along with books, games and all the gear needed for a day in a sunny yard.

As I painted, the kids played. And played and played and played. A sunny day in the Pacific Northwest is not a day to be wasted. Daria is so cute, she had a long conversation with me today about the fact that she loves sun and does not like rain. As if I could waive a magic wand and make it all be sunny - every day. Maybe she has the right of it - I made magic in the lives of my kids and they are home now. And they are happy. So maybe Daria is right - I could move us to Arizona or Florida. Rain can be replaced with sun. I could but I wouldn't - for now at least. My chickadee is so smart about the world. We should all take lessons from her.

Alex had a meltdown late afternoon of course. So much fun and too much too deal with. There was such screaming by him and I am sure some of the neighbors were concerned. But he is still learning control and how to balance all the joy of life. He is like so many, he cannot believe that life is light and joy and instead seeks the dark emotional scenes. I did not give it to him.

I painted and painted and painted. My radio blasted songs of joy and sometimes I sang along. And Alex sat on the floor of that room and screamed and cried and generally bellyached. But he sat there, with legs crossed. The windows were open the smell of the spring flowers wafted in. He watched me stay calm. After awhile he started finding things on the floor to work on (it is still such a mess but I will deal with it after finishing painting). We started talking. At some point Alex fully self-regulated and was okay. I asked him if he could see how beautifully the painting was going. It looks so nice in this room now.

Alex couldn't believe I still wanted his opinion. He confirmed it was nice and was quiet in telling me. Alex is still learning that it is okay to exist. He is still learning that I love all of him. After he gave up all hope of being unknowingly treated like an 18-month-old baby being taught self-regulation through close contact with mom I let him go. Back outside or inside. I didn't care.

The rest of the day was a joy. Such is life. Alex is my miracle child. He is beginning to believe in a happy version of life. More important, he is beginning to live it.

Many of the therapists defining the lacks neglected and traumatized children often face fall short of discussing how we can give that back to them. Even worse - at almost a criminal extent are the social workers in the state system - my soul weeps for the children at their mercy.

Instead adoptive parents are given a negative balance sheet about their kids. It is like an adoptive professional reminded me recently of the lesson I taught her - we all just need to go to where the child is and then help them walk out of their darkness or whatever.

It is all fixable, we just need to go to where they are. That is not to say that if a child has severe drug induced handicaps or is genetically predisposed to mental illness a parent can make them normal. No parent approach can fix something beyond the choice of a child.

That being said, it is still a parent's opportunity find out. And to make the effort. Kids adopted older have a lot to overcome. With love they can.

My son's eyes are still filled with so much fear. He fears I will stop loving him. That he will not be enough. He fears that the life he wants will be taken away from him unexpectedly. Gosh I wish I could erase his knowledge of life from the "before time."

So I paint, watch them through the open window and Alex plays with his sister. Later they come into the house eat and disperse to playing games and reading. Daria whines that surely I must be done so that I can go home now. She whines and whines and whines.

I ignore her of course. I love this house I am repainting. This was my first house. It has such a good feeling about it and the yard is so large. I spent some really wonderful years in this house with my dogs and my Mom planning my adoption mom path. I am happy when I am here. So many wonderful memories and dreams still linger. I can smell the blooming Magnolia and Daphne even over the paint. Life is good.

So that is a Saturday. Tomorrow is more painting. My goal is to finish at least two gallons tomorrow.