grrlTravels

R. confounds

I've put on the hip boots and I'm currently mucking around in the swampy stew that is the slurry of adoption issues / personality / maturity levels. The going is slow as the boots tend to get sucked into the mud and one must pull hard to get them unstuck.

R. came to us from his loving but outlandishly permissive foster parents. We appreciated at the time (and still do) the affection and attention that they lavished on him. They cared for him--it was obvious.

But some of the ways they cared for him were ... ... ... uh, completely opposite to every tenet of parenting which K. and I espouse. You know, like letting him play with their cell phones (fine) and laughing about how he broke 3 phones easily as they watched. Such as feeding him the best foods they could provide (thanks!) and taking turns eating dinner while they allowed him to preside over the dinner table, making demands and throwing food on the floor. He was a child who was completely out of control in many of the ways that count.

He came to us mostly healthy and loved and blooming. And spoiled. And tantrum-y. And throwing fits. With a frustration tolerance of zero. Preferring, wanting, NEEDING, and most of all expecting his own way 24/7.

K. and I knew there was much work to be done. And we set out to do it. We worked on getting him integrated into the family, showing him love while setting boundaries and teaching him the family rules. It wasn't easy. I took a break from blogging to have more time to devote to a semi-traumatized E. and Z. and a shell-shocked but defiant R. We lovingly set limits, set more limits, and then added even more limits. We worked hard on getting him to stop hitting the other children, and then to stop biting them. We tried to promote security while modifying behaviors. I'm tired just thinking about it all.

In the midst of attempting to modify the worst of the behaviors the adoption lexicon will float through my head. Attachment. Trauma. Abandonment. Parent shopping. Families. PTSD. Eye contact. Security. Love.

Here is the crux of the issue: I do not want to delay attachment, but we cannot live with the behaviors. He is clearly insecure, but he is also clearly aggressive. Charming. Manipulative. Intelligent. Willful. Affectionate. Destructive. I could go on.

I feel caught in quicksand, struggling with conflicting emotions, goals, and issues. The pieces of the puzzle will not unlock for me. I do not know when to go easy, when to stand firm, when I am going too far, when I am not going far enough. It's complex, this parenting thing, and wanting the best for my boy does not provide any obvious answers.

I'm tired of the boots and the mud and walking through the swamp. We haven't even talked about the mosquitos attacking me, the sweat dripping down my neck, the swamp rats following me a little too closely. Which direction to take? I long for a compass.

But it seems I left home without one.

Posted by grrlTravels at November 3, 2008 7:54 PM