Wednesday, June 29, 2016

protecting the heart

Hello,

First, thanks for everyone in Hiroshima last weekend who told me they were reading my posts and asked me about the family. Special thanks (and you know who you are) to someone who shared her family trials with me, showing me that it's good to talk about the hard side of parenting, and that every family goes rough times. What I took from our conversation is that no matter what we do or don't do, our children have their own paths to follow.

This post is called "Protecting the heart". I did not enjoy childhood at all. I felt misunderstood, alone, and was bullied severely (as I have mentioned), which made me create a sturdy wall around myself -- for years, I was loathe to let anyone in, and that resulted in serial monogamy until I met my husband, the first person I could let in because he made me feel that he liked me the way I was and he truly made me want to be a better person because of his belief in me (not to say that any previous people I was involved with didn't feel the same way, but I was too busy protecting myself that I didn't notice).

In Japan, it's easy to let your guard down. As a foreigner, you are judged by different standards, and because people value harmony, they rarely get in your face, although they will talk about you and speculate behind your back, just like anywhere else. Because of this lack of confrontation, I've been letting my guard down more and more over the years. In fact, I'm pretty open-hearted now and let everything go in, good or bad.

And with the kids, I feel it's important for me to have an open heart and to keep it that way, so that they will feel I'm there for them. However, the girl tests my heart every day with her bad words and violent actions, and although things are really, really improving, I'm finding myself relying on the anti-anxiety meds more and more because I'm a naturally nervous person and I tend to imagine worst-case scenarios even when there's no reason to. This morning, for example, I was just sitting at my desk overwhelmed with dread. I took half a med and now I'm chilled (I'm also menstruating, so my hormones are crazy, too -- yes, still menstruating weeks shy of 53 years old) which I'm sure doesn't help much. I'm finding it a little difficult to find things to be happy about our look forward to at times like this, but I have my own roller coaster to ride, I guess!

Anyway, any guidance on how to keep one's heart open while not letting in the bad stuff would be greatly appreciated!

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

All over da place

So, I spent most of yesterday in a panic thinking about how we were going to deal with the issue of the girl stealing. First, she took money from my son, then my husband, and finally me. We've been keeping our money safe now and hiding it from her, but we have to address the issue in a way that won't escalate tension. This is our plan: talk to the son beforehand and tell him to just be quiet during the family meeting. We start with a discussion on allowances asking "Do you have enough money?" Of course, both kids will say they don't. Then we will say, "You get money for birthdays and new years. Also, you get a base of 1000 yen a month and you can work for a maximum of 1000 yen more by doing English sheets or housework. Let's work together to figure out the value of things like washing dishes, sweeping the floor, etc. And, if you have a school trip or some special outing, you can ask for more money. However, we noticed recently that money seems to be missing, which makes us sad because we want to trust everyone, so please don't just take it because that's a bad habit and a crime and it's not nice to take money from people who have worked hard to earn it."

We will also tell the kids to keep their own money in a safe place and to count it to make sure nothing is missing and that we will start doing the same thing.

We figure this is the best way to deal with the situation because I've read that foster kids steal because they don't like being dependent on people they don't trust yet and they are afraid for their own survival. The fact that the girl spends the money soon after taking it shows that she knows it's bad and she probably wants us to stop her. I did a lot of reading and it said that a direct confrontation will result in lies and denials.

We also told the caseworker and hope she can give us some more helpful advice.

So that's one thing.

The good news is that we visited the school yesterday to talk to her regular teacher and her special ed teacher and both of them said she was making great strides, had lots of friends, was showing her personality in class in a good way, and seemed to be much different than she was in April when the semester first started.  There are still bumps here and there, but not with the same intensity and frequency as before. The caseworker attributed it to her being in our family (the girl refers to us as her parents apparently -- we had no idea because she still doesn't call us by name, but that might be so she doesn't stand out like she did when she was living in the orphanage -- however, it's good, right?). They are concerned about her studies a little bit, but are content to wait for her to settle down further. I'm thinking of offering a part-time job to one of my students to be a "homework coach"to help her along (and the boy if he needs it).

We were so happy to hear that news, that we bought treats for dinner, but had a face full of anger from her because she wanted to go to a festival unsupervised with friends and we said no way. She kicked and punched us a bit and walked away from dinner, but played piano loudly in her room until she'd calmed down, then ate a bit, went out and played basketball in the driveway with the husband, and came in and ate some more and invited me to play Uno with her over dessert. After that, she took out her homework and spent about an hour on it, which was, frankly, unbelievable. She came to sleep with me very late and kept turning the lights off and on and singing loudly until I took the remote control from her (by force, but making a game of it).

She is really forcing me to parent her and damn if I'm not doing it. Hard work, but it seems to be worth it -- I kept wiping my eyes in the principal's office yesterday, because I was overwhelmed by all the good news.



Sunday, June 26, 2016

Monday, June 20, 2016

meditation rocks

Hello lovely readers!

So, as you saw from the last few posts, we've been struggling hard with the girl, trying to figure out the best thing to do, which is hard when there's a whirlwind. To be honest, the weekend was very hard for me to be home all the time because the hub was out doing soccer stuff, and even after work yesterday, I felt jumpy, nervous, and afraid to go home. I was worrying constantly about what I was going to find there. Would she be good? Would she be in a bad mood? Would I have to discipline her and reap the consequences? Would I get punched or kicked or called nasty names?

I really felt I needed some help. I do meditations each night and decided to find something to help me. My idea was that I needed some kind of self-protection, but still a way to keep my heart open so that I could block the bad things, but not shut myself off completely so that the good things wouldn't go in either. I found a meditation by Judith Orloff called "Angel protection". In the meditation she lets the listener define "Angels" as they wish -- if someone is religious, then they could use familiar biblical depictions, if someone is not, they could imagine any kind of divine presences or angels as ancestors, which is what I chose to do. Some things she said really resonated with me during the meditation and I truly truly needed to hear them; she said, "You are not alone. You have never been alone. These angels have been with you from when you were born and they will be with you your whole life and until you pass on to the next plane of existence." When I heard this, I felt a whole shift because this was really at the core of everything for me.

When I was about the girl's age (12), I was bullied severely at school. No one was available to help me at that time, and I clearly remember thinking to myself , "No one is there for me. I can never rely on anyone else. I have to take care of myself." This was always behind my ambition -- to fiercely guard my independence so that I can't be hurt so badly again. And although my husband is fantastic and I have many friends, I couldn't always trust that they will always be there for me.

So, when I heard Judith's words, I felt my heart swell, tears streamed down my face, and I truly felt that I wasn't, and never had been as alone as I'd always thought,  although I just couldn't see it. My husband, for one, is completely there for me, as are my friends and family.

This shift has already had a positive consequence on the family. By feeling this way, by feeling helped, I could let go of some of the negative emotions and start feeling and acting positive, honestly positive, again. Lately, the girl's been coming in demanding to sleep in my bed, but I could only offer her half my side because I was leaving the other half of the bed free for the husband. And I honestly also didn't want her in my bed because I wanted to have one place in the house to myself. She would end up kicking me to make me move over and when I wouldn't, she'd start saying nasty things and leave. So, I talked to the husband and he thought it was a good sign that she wanted to sleep in my room and that he would sleep somewhere else in the house (he can sleep anywhere, any time and in any position, so I don't need to feel guilty).

Last night, when she came in, I patted his side of the bed and said, "Come on in". In the dark, she was talking to herself -- usually, I'd get annoyed and say something like, "If you're going to make noise, go back to your room", but instead I stayed quiet and listened to her. She was conjuring up some wild scenario, talking quickly, and doing different voices and I couldn't stop myself from laughing, tired as I was. Instead of thinking, "She's noisy", I thought, "She's really happy!" Nothing bad happened.

After she fell asleep, I went downstairs to tell the husband what had happened, especially about the funny stories she was telling. He said, "It's part of her mental disorder," acknowledging that she was very smart and creative when she did that.  I said, "I think people are starting to think of those things as gifts rather than handicaps; why don't we think of it that way, too? I'm going to think of it that way."

This morning, she was calm and cheerful. She told jokes at the table. She didn't sit with one foot on the chair and her knee up, which the husband is always telling her off about; she didn't whine or fight. She told funny jokes, ate her breakfast, packed up her stuff and went to school. Didn't brush her teeth, though. But baby steps, baby steps.

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Talkin' bout last night

So, the girl was pushing my and alternatively the hubby's buttons all night. The atmosphere was charged and it was pretty unpleasant. She asked me to play a game with her, but changed the rules to suit herself and got mad when I won. She wasn't listening to any explanations about fairness or following rules, so threw the cards down. I packed them up and went back to my book. Then she asked to play a different game, so I put my book down and we tried that. It was going well, then hubby came home and she jumped up to play with him.

They went out for some shopping and when they came back, I could see he was really stressed out and on edge. She was pouring juice into a sake cup for fun right next to my head and intentionally squirted some on my face. I ran to wash it off and she followed me shouting "I'm sorry" in a not very sorry way. I look my book and went to my room, because I was afraid of what I might say.

Hubby followed to put up a new bar for hanging clothes in the closet. He looked quite stressed out, so I imagined their shopping trip was not very fun. She came in and began yelling. She smelled quite bad, to be honest, so I told her to take a bath. She wanted to sleep with me in my bed and I told her she could if she washed herself first. She started kicking and punching and name calling. To both of us.

Hubby had to pick up the boy from soccer. The girl kept yelling at me, throwing my stuff around the room, banging on the walls, turning the lights on and off, and storming out the door, slamming it behind her. But she kept coming back. I asked her, "What do you want?" but she wouldn't answer, saying she couldn't understand me. Finally, I realized that I should just sit quietly and stop fighting -- she was obviously picking a fight to justify whatever bad feelings were swirling around inside her, provoked by something I'll never know or understand, so I sat. She kicked me in the arm a few times, threatened me with the iron pole that was still not put up in the closet, but I sat quietly and said nothing. She finally stopped, flopped on the bed, said a few more rude things and promptly fell asleep. I covered her up, went downstairs to commune with the hubby and went back to bed.

This morning, like all the times before, it was as if nothing had happened. I greeted her cheerfully, made part of her breakfast for her, and all was peaceful.

It was awful, but there is a part of me that is beginning to detach a bit and see that this is a pattern and that after the storm, the sun rises again. We keep a calendar to mark the stormy days and they are getting further apart. We have to remember that she is driven by forces that we have no idea about. By her not going to her own room last night, she sent a clear message that she needs us when she is in distress and that we are doing the wrong thing by turning her out.

Hard lessons. Tough teacher!

xo
M

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

taking my space

So, those of you who know me know I tend to move in the world of extremes. Japan has taught me a lot about grey areas, but they are still hard for me to navigate, so what guides my day-day-day is the feeling that I should be doing things perfectly and mindfully. Everything. Teaching classes, interacting with the kids, doing my research. I berate myself for the time I spend in front of the computer playing solitaire between tasks, and yet I do it. I deserve a break, but what about all those things I could be doing instead, like prepping classes for next week, writing conference proposals, or polishing up that book chapter that I won't need to submit for, oh, about a year from now.

One of the hardest things for to pull away from right now is that idea that everything I say and do (or don't do) will have the profoundest effect on my children and will send them scampering off to the shrink as soon as they can afford to. Thanks to the girl's current shrink and former caregivers, I have been assured that it will take between 1-2 years before the girl realizes that she's made the right decision in coming to live with us. There's not a damn thing I can do. My friend Shawn assures me that "You can be the best parent in the world and you won't be able to do anything until she's ready."He says that the best thing to do is make the kids feel safe and loved. We are doing that. And feeding the hollow-legged monsters, let me tell you. Will have to get another part time job just to support the amount of milk that gets consumed every week.

Back to the shrink, caregiver, my pal Shawn, and another friend who shared her story with me (I wrote about her in the last post, I think). These words have freed me. Now, instead of hovering around the kids wondering if they need/want anything, I do what I really want to do: lie down on the couch and read a book after working all day. And if a kid wanders in and asks to play a game, for me to listen to their homework reading, or read to them, I put down my book and do it. I do what I want until they want to do something with me. Then I do that.

And things have calmed considerably. Last night was amazing. While I read my book on the couch, both kids sat at the kitchen table and did homework while hubby cooked dinner (so you don't think I'm a lazy ass, I did make miso soup and the rice was already cooked). After dinner, the boys went out to play soccer in the park, so the girl and I played Uno (her rules) and had fun taking pictures of her with snapchat. When the boys came back, both children wanted to play Uno, so we did that. No fighting which was amazing.

I'd hoped to go to bed early, but the boy begged for a bedtime story. I read it and while doing so, the girl got into bed, pressed right up against me and read her book. When I finished reading to the boy, the girl decided to read two very moving books to me. She feel asleep pressed up against me.

How I'd waited for this! Now it's here and sooner than expected (I thought i'd have to wait a year). Mind you, I tried ruffling her hair and she got mad and told me to cut it out very loudly. The cuddling will be on her terms. I must just sit back and let her come to me -- like one of those cats who likes to sit on your lap, but jumps off if you pet it. The boy was like that, too.

Feeling more like myself than I have since we moved into the new place. I guess it takes 3 months for everyone, not only the kids, to get used to the new situation.

Thursday, June 2, 2016

Learning curve

Hello,

So, as you can see from my FB posts, it's been real learning curve with the girl. I feel as though I really am a parent now -- although the boy has been with us for 7 years, hubby has done so much with him that I often felt I was only necessary for rent, bills, and cooking. Hubby assures me that's not true, but I have never felt really close to the boy -- there is a limit to how far he will let me "in", and that will likely be true throughout our relationship. However, I'm starting to see a heart-bond with the girl that I believe will be strong. There are glimpses of it -- last night we started doing some English literacy and phonics exercises and it was quite wonderful to work with her and show her the joy of learning. To see her face light up when I praised her for her work. To see her go the extra mile with the activities and do more than required.

Being an adoptive/foster parent is very different from being a biological parent, I think, especially when the adopted/fostered kids come to you at an older age. One of the biggest differences for me is realizing that the natural undercurrent of love that exists between birth parents and their children may take longer to form between adoptive/foster parents and children or it may not happen at all. It took 5 years for the boy to hold my hand of his own volition. Recently, a friend who had survived abusive foster homes, revealed to me that it took her 10 years to kiss her adoptive mother. My point is that when the storms arise, as they do with pre-teens (and I have two of them now), that undercurrent of love, the memory of the love and bond that was there before, well, it's not there, so it makes the storms harder to weather.

So, yes, I acknowledge that adolescent angst is a thing all kids go through, but for us, when there is no history of love to help shield us from the angry barbs, it's sometimes like getting a face full of vitriol from a stranger.

Happily though, things are changing, softening. There are more days of peace between the storms -- we are learning how to navigate our individual ships without crashing into each other. Our love is growing,  and our hearts are slowly opening. We all have to let our guards done and be more fearless, and that's the toughest thing to do, isn't it?

Thanks for your support as always,
Mel