THANK YOU for your prayers and encouraging words.
In case you’re just joining us, I presented this week to a group of eleven professionals appointed by the government to ensure children receive appropriate services. They hold the power to choose the best route of treatment for our son.
My meeting went well, although the current residential facility representative maintained the opinion the best option for our boy is a step-down to a group home. After hearing about his current outbursts, the team agreed a step-over to a different facility is warranted. This was our desired outcome. As one of the members noted, he is still not in control of his anger.
The current facility’s mindset is that he’s made great progress since January. However, they’re ignoring the huge swing he’s experienced since admission. In some ways, his behavior is now worse.
We admitted him because he expressed suicidal thoughts, and his actions were harmful to himself and others. When he became angry, he usually expressed it verbally (or in writing, as I often sent him to his room to write in his journal).
From November through January, his expression escalated to physical. He began provoking and fighting with the other children—specifically those he saw as weaker than himself. We worked with the therapist to create a reward/consequence system to eliminate the physical aggression (“TV time” is his most effective motivating factor; an altercation = no TV).
Although the therapist agreed with and supported the plan, getting the general staff on board proved difficult. Part of the issue stemmed from attempting to communicate the plan with the large number of individuals involved. In addition, not everyone agreed with our tactics. They felt barring him from TV made him feel as though he were not “part of the group” and minimized his “socializing” opportunities.
I argued that punching another kid in the face might also limit his social acceptance.
We had very little success. Enforcing rules from a distance is difficult, especially without buy-in from staff.
He figured out that his physical aggression was keeping him in the center longer and occasionally affected his TV access, so he stopped punching kids and started punching and kicking the walls when angry. He hasn’t yet cracked the sheet rock, partly because some walls are cinder block. This week, he bruised his hand badly.
To the center, this is progress. To Hubby and me, not so much. He’s still expressing his anger in inappropriate ways, with the threat of property damage looming just one kick away.
This week, he sat down at a table in the classroom and refused to get in his seat because he wanted to color. When the teacher explained this wasn’t an option, he walked out of the class. Staff informed him he may not refuse school (the center allows them to refuse certain activities) and he flipped out, punching and kicking windows and walls. Call me crazy, but this does not feel like progress.
Thankfully, the team agreed with our concerns; we can move forward.
Next steps involve obtaining admission from the desired facility and sending a description of why this is our best option to yet another government employee for final approval. She knows our story, so I have hope for limited delays. Having the team’s backing also gives credibility to the request.
The road to healing is long and it hasn’t been easy, but I have hope.
I write our story to be a support and to help other families in similar situations feel less isolated. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.
I write our story to show the individuals who support these families: YOU ARE NEEDED.
Adoptive parents AND adopted children—we learn from those who’ve gone before. Please feel free to give your opinions and guidance.
We need each other.
You have a story. Chime in.
- Change ChangHe’sfThe c
Tomorrow, I’ll stand before a group of professionals and explain why I think our son should transition to another facility. Some will want him to step down to a group home instead. I disagree.
I’m NOT trying to pawn my kid off or keep him from coming home. He’s not showing the level of progress for which we’d hoped.
He’s had three incidents (in three days) of kicking and punching walls, doors and windows because a peer or adult disagreed with him…if he did this in school, he’d end up expelled.
I love this kid and am doing this to protect him; if he throws a chair and hits someone—even if the contact is unintentional— he could go to jail. Odds are not in his favor.
He needs something else—something he’s not getting. I’ll elaborate later, but for now, I appreciate your prayers for calm nerves and clear communication.
The three most important things to have are faith, hope and love. But the greatest of them is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13
So well said by one of my adoptee friends—please take note if you’re interested in adoption:
There seems to be an abundance of adopters/hopeful adopters so enmeshed in getting their own “needs/wants” met.
Adoption should be about the child’s needs FIRST and FOREMOST.
Children just about never have the ability to “opt out” of this process if they don’t like it.
Movies move us.
Movies tell stories. Storytelling is a powerful way engage your audience, to provoke thought, to connect with others.
Movies often involve popcorn, soda and other treats.
Bottom line: movies are fun.
Other bottom line your kids don’t need to know: movies provide the opportunity to craft therapy experiences specific to your child. Often, the best therapy involves realizing others have similar battles to our own.
Let me give you an example of what I mean:
The last few years have been a struggle. I wonder if anyone else thinks the way I do, or if I’m just weird and everyone else is doing fine. Maybe I’m just different from everyone else on the planet, but when life throws a difficult experience in my lap, I feel alone. I feel that no one can understand. I feel different from everyone else on the planet.
Oh, you’ve felt this?
Perhaps I’m not so different. Maybe you’re a kindred spirit. If you’ve experienced a similar difficulty and survived, so can I. We are connected.
When we connect with other individuals—real or imagined—who experience similar hazards or painful crises, we no longer feel isolated. We find community. We find hope.
My aim for Hypervigilant.org is to provide a place where foster and adoptive parents (and their supporting cast members) will find hope, healing and the knowledge that not one of us is alone in the fight to help our children survive and thrive.
As parents, we must find ways to help our children reach hope, healing and community as well—and the best place to start is at home.
Sometimes, this goal feels so far out of reach, it might as well be in outer space. When RAD is in full swing, when kids have screaming tantrums, when your child is continually defiant, when they’ve broken every possible object, when you’re ready to pull your hair out…it’s time to pull out a secret weapon.
FAMILY MOVIE NIGHT!
Break out that popcorn machine (or toss a pack in the microwave). Pour special drinks for the kids (and possibly “extra-special” drinks for the adults). As long as candy doesn’t send them over the edge, buy a couple boxes of “movie candy” at CVS.
Get the kids excited. (But not too excited…we’re looking for positive participation, not chaos…)
And then, play a movie with a theme aimed at their hearts.
While watching, point out key elements.
“Wow, I bet that made him angry.”
“Do you think she’s feeling sad, or just confused?”
“I think maybe he reacted that way because he misses his dog.”
After the movie, spend a few minutes getting the kids involved in conversation. Remember, this is not a full-on therapy session. No need to extend it unless your kiddos become invested in the process.
*Key component: if it’s after bedtime, inform the kids they may stay up “__ minutes more” as long as they’re contributing to the discussion in an active and positive way.
Ask what they thought the character felt during ______ scene. How could the character have reacted differently (either positive or negative) and in what way might that change the story?
Often, asking, “can you think of anyone who might have similar feelings/could have had a similar experience/may understand a character in the movie?” works better than a direct, “does this apply to you?” The way your kids connect to the stories may surprise you; sometimes we think the kids will attach to a certain character, but they relate to another for other reasons.
It’s okay to watch the same movie more than once; investment in characters may change as kids develop. I experienced this myself, watching The Fault in Our Stars. I expected to empathize with the young girl experiencing cancer, since I contend with chronic illness. Instead, the scenes involving her mother made me sob, thinking of how I’d feel if our girl were so sick.
Cinema Therapy, as it’s called in some circles, is gaining ground with professionals (although I doubt insurance providers will pay for movie tickets anytime soon). Especially for kids who have difficulty opening up because they feel no one understands, the right movies can bring healing. For families struggling to connect, Family Movie Night can facilitate finding common ground—even if it’s just a shared love of buttered popcorn.
Next up: Resources for Cinema Therapy at home
I just realized that some of your comments went to spam. Several of you are longtime followers, so I have no idea why it happened.
Sorry about that! I promise, I was NOT ignoring you.
Several times in the last few months, our boy has mentioned that he seems different from other kids his age. He feels they think in a different way than he does.
He isn’t wrong, since he’s on the Autism spectrum. If the DSM-V hadn’t changed everything (okay, not everything), he would be diagnosed as having Asperger’s. In fact, his earliest diagnosis listed him as an Aspie.
We have never told him, concerned that it might make him feel different, or that he might use it as an excuse. “Well, I just act that way because I have Autism.”
However, since he already feels “different,” we’ve been thinking that maybe we should tell him.
A couple weeks ago, the kids and I were watching Girl Meets World, a spinoff/sequel to my childhood favorite, Boy Meets World. In this particular episode, one of the characters had testing because the adults in his life suspected he might be on the spectrum. He was agitated and concerned over the idea that he might be Autistic. I didn’t really like the way they portrayed that part because the tone made a diagnosis sound a little scary. Test results showed the young man does not have Asperger’s and he seemed relieved. However, one of his close friends was disappointed because she is an Aspie and was hoping his diagnosis would make her feel less different. The show ended as the kids assured the girl that they all love her just the way she is.
Overall, the episode does a pretty good job of showing kids how to be inclusive. The portrayal of nervous tension about the testing, both for the parents and for the child, seems fairly accurate.
I wouldn’t really know, because we didn’t tell our boy we were getting him tested (yearly psychs are run of the mill here, so he didn’t even notice) and I was ECSTATIC to receive the diagnosis.
Still, I felt they could have done a better job of portraying the diagnosis as something less scary—or even cool, because truly, Spectrum Kids are gifted.
As the show closed, our boy stared me square in the eye and asked,
What do I have?
Not quite ready to have the conversation, I hedged. “What do you think you have?”
He thought for a minute, then said, “I think I have the illness of aaaaaaaaaaaa(thought he was going to say it)aaaaawesome!”
When the kids arrived, having experienced trauma layered on trauma, they were a couple of angry little hyenas.
Every morning, our son woke screaming in anger. For hours.
We found the music on K-Love soothed them.
You can read more about that in Our Three Songs, a post I wrote a little over two years ago.
This morning, I woke (in slight disgruntlement at the early hour) to my son singing at a decibel level to rival any bass-thumping stereo system on the road today.
When we turn on the radio, he listens for a few minutes, eyes narrowed.
“Is that K-Love?”
I confirm, and he nods, satisfied.
If it’s not K-Love, I have 30 seconds to change the tuner before he begins to complain.
He’s happier, more confident. So is our daughter. They sing with smiles brightening their faces.
Things are definitely not perfect, and the hours of therapy in which we still participate are responsible for much of their gains.
The music of K-Love is just as responsible for their improved outlook.
Today is the last day of the pledge drive. K-Love is on the air in the USA because of listener support.
Hypervigilant.org is a proud business partner supporter of K-Love.
I encourage you to support their ministry. I have seen firsthand the changed lives.
You can donate at 800-525-5683 or at www.klove.com