Beautiful Orlando Moms

This past weekend I got to see the most beautiful moms in all the world as they gathered to support and encourage each other in their experiences parenting traumatized children.

Oh these weekends make my heart sing!!!!

Hubby Continues to Find Support in Awesome Places

Hubby signed up for a study of Pastor Tony Evan's book, Kingdom Man.

 First week was introduction where the men each shared a little bit about who they are.  Uncharacteristically, during introductions, hubby mentioned he currently struggles with troubles brought into our lives courtesy our adult adoptees, their behaviors as young adults exactly matching the symptoms list of the mental illness diagnosed years earlier when they were first placed with us.  That same night, after that first meeting, an "elderly gentleman" in his 70's quietly said he needed to talk... it turns out he is also an adoptive father, 20 years ahead of our experience, and now grandfather to many of his adopted daughter's multiple children, by many different men.

Hubby came home encouraged.   He is not alone in this journey.

Week after week Hubby was eager to "do his homework" for the class... loving the contents of the book, and the fellowship among men who were studying this book with him.

Several, quiet conversations afterwards with the more experienced adoptive father were definitely a bonus.

Fast forward to the last class... where this group of men who had been coming together to share their experiences, their hopes and struggles in walking out Kingdom values as men in our culture, time to say goodbye.

Hubby has a "ministry" not for profit, not for tax deduction, it's something he's good at,  enjoys doing that benefits others... and he offers his services to whomever could be blessed by computer repair.  His "day job" pays way more than his repair work ever could... but he loves to have his hands in electronics troubleshooting and repairing.  We decided long ago "charging" for services to earn a profit robbed the family of time, because his "overtime" computer repair work earned far less than minimum wage... and he was doing it more as a hobby.  It became obvious that the average person who needs computer repairs finds the repairs to be quite expensive... and would be blessed if hubby "donated" his services tinkering to repair their computers.  The joys associated with working to serve the Lord is worth so much more than any money hubby might earn from dedicating the bulk of his time off towards tinkering on his financially unprofitable passion. 

At the last class, when the men were saying goodbye to the other men they had bared their hearts to regarding life... my hubby described his "ministry" and passed out a business card with his full name and contact info on it.

One man came up to him... and apologized. 

Outside of this class, my husband didn't know this man... at all.

Outside this class, this man knew OF my husband, but didn't know until he saw the name... my husband was a man he'd heard MUCH about. 

You see... this man was a neighbor to our adult-daughter's "rescue mommy" ... this man worked at a "christian" business with our adult RAD. 

This man couldn't figure out why our daughter, an adult, lived with a senior citizen couple that was not her own parents.

When he asked what was up with the very strange living arrangements... our daughter gave him ears full... of RAD garbage.

He spent endless hours trying to "counsel" our daughter how to handle her "plight"... to the point his wife was wondering if our daughter was "the other woman."

Before this class... this man had no idea who my husband was... but through this class... as the men shared the burdens of their heart to serve God honorably in all they do... this man got to really know my husband.

This man saw the card, saw my husbands full name, and immediately identified "the stories" as stories about my husband.  This man apologized, profusely for his involvement in our family.  He apologized for being so easily duped.

He apologized.  From out of nowhere.  We weren't even aware he'd "meddled" at all... we didn't even know he existed.  We're grateful truth was revealed to his heart.  We're grateful he stepped forward to make things right.

We continue to pray for all who have been duped into believing the lies, manipulations, and triangulations of Reactive Attachment Disorder.  We pray they'd be convicted of their wrongs, and heartfully sorry, not condemned forever for their unwitting evils... see... he... like most involved... really believed he was helping... until truth was revealed.

Lord have mercy!

Don't Let Grief Steal Your Days

Today is a day of significance for our family... courtesy of adoption... and so today, for a little while... I'm allowing myself to grieve what Reactive Attachment Disorder continues to steal, from our adopted kids, and our family.

It is fast approaching 4 years after our adoptees' RADtypical meltdown and attack against us.  This year our "Adoption Day" anniversary had passed more than a month before I realized it had come, and gone.   I kind of consider that progress.  I kind of am surprised.  I had always treasured that date... the date of the beginning of our dreams come true.  That date, after RAD attacked, became a source of pain... and this year, it passed without anticipation, or remembrance.  It just passed...  We were busy, and having fun... and honestly didn't notice.  It wasn't an active effort to try and forget the date... I actually intended to honor that date.  It simply passed, unnoticed.

Quite a while ago, Hubby and I had a counselor suggest we schedule dates and times to grieve, so our adoption grief could be honored and expressed without robbing us of the pleasures available to us in every day life.

I was very surprised when my first "appointed day" for grieving arrived and I didn't "feel like" mourning... I was having too much fun.  Our counselor explained that was the point... "If the day arrives, and you don't feel like grieving, you don't have to..."  It seemed like her point was to not let grief steal our days.


Back when "scheduled grief" was prescribed... I giggled (a lot) as I envisioned how I might grieve who our living children had become.  I imagined myself dressed in black with a shawl and a hankie... mourning.

The days where overwhelming sadness would flatten me, I'd tell myself, this isn't the day nor time to mourn, but I will, at the appropriate time... then I'd begin imagining what that would look like... and start giggling again.

During my planning grief gigglefests decided I'd someday "light a candle" when the time to grieve arose.  I was raised in a denomination where one could put coins in a box and pay to "light a candle" for prayer intentions.  I remember my mom tearfully lighting candles for her prayer intentions, as we'd visit older churches that still had the red-glass votives.  As I got older, the candles became electric push button and the price to ignite was listed in dollars... I'd always found the concept that a paid candle would pray for me to be a bit weird, but when I envisioned what grief should look like... those candles were part of  the picture... even though they make me giggle.  

That same year for Christmas I got an OLD brass and red glass votive from a friend who had a knack for finding treasures and glitzing them up to make holiday gifts for friends who are dear to her.  Perfect!!!  Not perfect for my decorating style... not even my holiday decorating... but perfect as my grief candle.  I removed the holiday embellishments and set it up for our kids. 

I've placed the candle on my front entry table as a reminder when grief comes, there is a time to grieve, and when the time comes I'll do so... if I feel like it.  And I smile.

Today is the anniversary of a day of significance regarding our adoption... a formerly celebratory day, but a day I'd set to grieve if need be.  Today grief fits, not for the full day... It's a day my hubby and I have decided to celebrate with or without our beloved adoptees.

... And we WILL celebrate today...

                       but for this morning... 

for this mourning... 

I've lit a candle.

"Fertilizer" Happens!

Years ago when the "sh!! happens" bumper stickers started popping up all over the place, I became convinced that NOTHING is wasted in God's economy... even sh!! is used for fertilization... and eventually makes good ground for growing. 

I wanted to market "Fertilizer Happens" bumper stickers. Still do!

Hubby and I were anxiously anticipating how "the holidays" would go... our first year "alone" and...

...we're having fun... which is awesome!!!

We do have micromoments of sadness for the choices our RADs continue to make... but we don't get to make their choices, they do... we are responsible for keeping our hearts tender and forgiving through it all... which at some moments is easier said than done... but well worth the efforts.

Here we are our 4th "Holiday Season" since RADs melted down.  4th holiday season of estrangement from them by their choice.  We can see so very much more clearly how God is using the "fertilizer" to grow us in His love and to bless us with friendships so much deeper than the "fair weather friend" variety.

This morning (New Year's Eve) as I'm counting my so many blessings, I'm blown away how God has used horrific circumstances to abundantly bless us!!!

I was remembering the story of Corrie Ten Boom being in Nazi concentration camps thanking God for infested unlivable conditions, and later seeing exactly how the unlivable conditions she had thanked God for was being used to bless them.    <=  Read it if you have time... get tissues.

All my "horrible moments" combined don't compare to what Corrie and her sister encountered in that passage alone.  Their God inspired hope in the midst of hopeless circumstances have certainly inspired me and countless others.

One nickname I have (from high school referring to a traumatic head injury) helps me to remember that it continues to be my prayer to praise God in ALL circumstances... because He is worthy.   When that nicknaming injury happened I literally fell down (from the weight of the blow) praising God.  I was a relatively "new" believer back then... and I continue to earnestly pray "Lord, WHATEVER happens, help me to be confident in Your promises that You love me, You intend to bless me, no weapon formed against me shall prosper, even what an enemy intends for my harm You will use to bless me... Lord, help me in the midst of traumas that knock me off my feet to fall down praising you!"

What a gift it is to be confident in God's love for me!!!!

If you are not YET confident that God loves you... my prayer is that as you read this, your heart would get a glimmer of the TREMENDOUS love the God of all has for you personally!!!! 

They Know... Struggle to Understand the Motive; Yet They Themselves Also Inflict the Pain of Abandonment

I was talking with one of my awesome Adoptive Mom friends... She also knows the "I love you" but won't see you phenomenon of the adult estranged adoptees.

She's pursing her estranged ones a little more actively than I have peace about doing with our estranged RADs.  (I don't for a second mean to imply either of us are wrong... I believe God's peace leads us along the best paths for our lives.)

I was trying to comfort her letting her know that these kids who have genuinely experienced abandonment have pains so deep that we, children who have had the loving presence of both parents for life, can merely imagine the depths of.

I don't remember her exact words, but... it was something along the lines of...

They know the pains of abandonment... they struggle to understand HOW anyone (specifically their bio-parents) could abandon someone (the child "given up") they are supposed to love... and yet that is exactly what our estranged kids are doing and they don't even see it!   They are abandoning the parents they are supposed to love, and YES, WE DO KNOW THE PAIN OF ABANDONMENT THAT SHOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED!!!!!   Just like THEY should never have been abandoned by their first parents... THEY should have never abandoned us the real parents that raised and love them.

Hmmmm... yes... we know the pain... I still believe their pain is deeper.   Young adults are supposed to embark on their adult life apart from their parents.   It would be beautiful if they were capable of maintaining loving ties to the parents who love them.  We each do have that healthy thriving relationship with our other child(ren).

Recently in the course of living I've had the opportunity to speak to a string of "estranged adult children" mostly "bio kids" each estranged for very different reasons.  So very sad.

Each estranged-from-parents adult either perpetual "loners" or with a long string of short relationships.

With several of these "coincidental" (?? doubt it!!!) recent encounters, I had the opportunity to express to each my husband's and my own yearning for reciprocally loving adult parent-child relationships with our estranged adult adoptees.  I've explained that we are eager to see them happily live the life they desire as adults, we just truly wish that their desired adult life could include a connection to us on some level.

Each estranged adult child (from early 30's to Senior Citizen) said they knew their parent's loved them, and confirmed that they loved their parents despite their own (in all but one situation) chosen estrangement.  

There's been quite a bit in the news lately about "strong relationships" and "close personal ties" and "close family relationships" being critical in determining a person's ability to "overcome" the various obstacles of life.

Here's an article from PLOS Medicine on Social Relationships and Mortality Risk: A Meta-analytic Review .

Meanwhile... we continue to pray the very best for the children we love. 

Catching Up With an Old Friend

My hubby loves to fiddle with computers.  He considered making a business of it, but could never bring himself to charge much more than the part itself.  I encouraged him to do the work as a ministry to others... charging only for what he might need to lay out for a part he doesn't have.  He LOVES helping others... and he loves fiddling with computers... perfect match.

A friend I keep up with, sent a mutual friend I've not seen nor heard from in YEARS our way to see if DH could help solve computer woes.

The call came through me... and me and my friend from long ago got to "catch up."

This old friend knew me from "pre-adoption" days.   She knew me quite well through the "hoping to adopt soon" days.  We lost contact in the "gee adopting these kids requires so much more of my attention than I imagined, but I'm glad to give them what they need" stage.

In some ways it seems like only yesterday we were spending quality time together, in other ways it seems like ten lifetimes ago.  It was good to "catch up."

I noticed something as I was updating my friend on what's going on since we last spoke... my perspective of this ordeal is less focused on my pain.

 I kept emphasizing despite how very painful the RADtypical behaviors are for my husband daughter and me; we, the family scorned, we are certain our estranged adoptees must be hurting to extremes we simply can not imagine.


  

Thank God for Bedbugs

Bedbugs.

Thank God!

They were the final inspiration that brought a friend's RAD son home from the very dangerous situation he had been living in. 

I had seen his mother's comment that Thank God her son who had been estranged for over a year had returned. 

I privately messaged her letting her know I was happy for her... but angry and doing my best to deal with my anger before the sun went down. 

Years ago our families attended the same little church. 

When her adopted son was very small, she and her family moved thousands of miles away.  Facebook helped us keep in touch. 

Many of the "good christians" who were our former pewmates who continue to be SO VERY HORRIBLE to our family during  and since our RAD's meltdown... were all "liking" and "commenting" about how wonderful it was my friend's son had returned home. 

It turned my stomach... and I was angry!

My gracious friend called me from THOUSANDS of miles away... and talked with me, and encouraged me. 

Together we prayed.  Together we were grateful for "whatever it takes" that would turn our kids hearts home toward the parents who love them. 

Together we thanked God for bedbugs, because bedbugs are what brought her son back home.

Naturally there is still a long way to go... but meanwhile together... we remain grateful... for bedbugs.

Desperately Seeking Shock and Horror Sympathy and Gifts

Before there was Barney... I was a kid.

Even though there was no Barney, I watched a TV kid show with a singing Dinosaur called H.R. Pufnstuf...

I remember me and the siblings laughing and giggling and singing Witchiepoo's song...
even though we got the lyrics wrong...

As a kid I thought the lyrics were "Oranges Poranges Who Cares!"

Oranges Poranges

When I think "who cares?!" 

I think "Oranges Poranges." 

Feel free to thank me for getting that song caught in your brain!


I've been trying to figure out our estranged "officer RAD"'s motivation for reaching out to our more gullible  extended family to "visit" on a trip up to our home town. 

Yes, there's always the symptomatic RADtypical Triangulation aspect. 


It occurred to me this morning her "audience" of sympathy back here in the town she was raised might actually be waning.

As I think, I wonder...How long can gainfully employed "young adults" continue to gain sympathy, gifts, money, affection, and attention for the various abuses they're pretending to have endured in our care?  Sooner or later the gravy train will dry up. 

The act gets stale... at least that's what I would think.

 Shoot, I can't imagine what motivates the crazies who slurped up our RAD's drama and ended up drooling for more... these nutsos pay for their "real-life-is-better-than-soap-operas" brand of entertainment rewarding our adult RADs with "love" and money and gifts, and sympathy and attention, but I think...I hope... that eventually they might tire of the same old drivel. 

I think perhaps the long-standing local :rescuers" may finally be picking up on the fact that our loving-attached-well-adjusted daughter who grew up in the same home with the same "abusive" parents doesn't want or need them to rescue her from us.  Perhaps the self-appointed-"saviors" are picking up on the "You make me sick, what's the matter with you? Leave our family alone!" vibe our oldest has toward the "church community" who have continued to meddle, and drool and meddle and drool and "rescue.

Certainly they must pick up on the fact that for every week-long+ visit our oldest only willing to spend about an hour or less with the siblings who have attacked our family and perpetuate tales insane falsehoods.

Our now 3-years-older-adult-RADs are not as pitiful as they first appeared when they started their RADtypical triangulation of the community at large against us.

Shoot, in the land of the gainfully employed our "pathetic abused little darlings" are doing better than most of the adult children of their RADtypically triangulated meddlers!

I imagine somewhere even in "rescuers" whose brains have faulty wiring... would eventually have a light come on!!!  How could it not?

Some parents have always been bums.  I'm not saying that to be mean... I'm saying that because generations upon generations of our adoptees' bio-family have allowed "the system" to raise their kids. Lousy parenting is a generational way of life for them... for people in their drug infested environment.  I

We are not lousy parents.  We never have been. 
Half the shock and horror effect that has the insanely deranged audience captivated by... 
THE SCANDAL of our "Beautiful Family"
... is the supposition that we have had this "plastic perfect" exterior while living a secret life of abuse that  would make the next great scandalous reality show.

Our "story" would be far less captivating if we had always been bums in their eyes.  These drama hungry goons put us on a pedestal in comparing our beautiful family to the mess they had made of their own.  They have since enjoyed pushing us off their pedestal, trying to make us crumble, because they are eager to dance in our dust.  It makes them feel better to think we are at least as horrible as they know they have been. 

As our adult RADs broaden their adult-circle in the big outside world and begin to encounter people who were left to grow up in the environment social services removed them from...BEFORE they came to us...  I'm sure there is not much tolerance for our adoptees' "tales of woe" having been raised in our nurturing home... especially as they encounter individuals who were REALLY raised in abusive/neglectful/deprived environments. 

Anyway It seems officer RAD, in reaching out to family she's only related to through the parents she denies, with hopes chasing down a new audience, looking to renew reactions of shock-horror-and-sympathy-and-gifts with those gullible individuals most likely to be generous once entertained by RAD drama. 

I suspect the drama is finally loosing it's power. 
Drama that has been officer RAD's bread and butter;
her roof  and pillow;
her transportation and gifts;
her attention and sympathy...
let's not forget her "only" source of "love."

Oh how I would love for our daughter's RADtypical drama to start to get "Oranges Poranges! Who Cares!" as a response instead of Shock and Horror and Sympathy and Gifts.

When our RADs stop getting tangible and not so tangible reinforcement for their RADtypical behavior, I'm certain they will begin to be encouraged to make healthy choices along life's path.