Day 20: Two Years

We all know and say that time goes by so quickly (unless of course you are waiting for it to be bedtime for twin three year olds . . . then it drags on forever . . .)  But as a general rule, time does indeed seem to go by so quickly.

We get so caught up in the mundane and even joyful details of our daily lives, that before we know it, days, weeks, months, and years have gone by in a blur.

Two years ago . . . TWO YEARS AGO . . . Mike and I and our sons set out on a journey that has changed our lives forever.

On April 7th, 2010, two sweet babies came to our house, rescued from a life of unspeakable things.

Here they are on their 1st full day at our house.  I remember that they slept for 14 hours.  And I remember thinking how odd it was that they didn't eat breakfast.  (Strange the memories that I have stored away!)  They were mostly non-verbal, but man could they communicate!  They had some

at-ti-tudes!  If they wanted it, they would hit, kick, scratch and scream to get it.  We often said, "be sweet" throughout the day, so it was no surprise to us that Shortstack's first words to us were "Be Sweet."

Within just a few short weeks, we saw so much improvement.  Their skin and hair began to grow and get healthy.  They started eating.  They slept through the night.  They laughed.  And eventually, they spoke.

After leaving our home for a permanent adoption home, and then a brief stay back with their birth mom, God determined that they would come back to our home. 

Fast forward two years and we find ourselves soon to be the forever family of these beautiful girls. I have a million thoughts going through my mind about this and all that it means for us, and for them, and for our family.  But I will just say this.  God has a plan.  And none of us can imagine the things that He has in store for us.  But in His time, He unfolds them. 

All that to say, to God be the glory, great things He has done.

Day 19: Watching Miracles Unfold

Sometimes it is incredibly difficult to know just exactly how the messages I am sending are being received in our daughters' brains.  I'm sure the parent of any toddler would probably say the same thing!  I often have to remind myself that EVERYTHING my girls say and do cannot and should not be connected to their abuse prior to coming to our home.  Some of the things they say and do are perfectly normal in the realm of toddlerdom.

That said, I also know that their little brains got miswired along the way and now they don't always process the things we say in the right way.  And sometimes, when they cannot act, think, say, or do what they want to, they meltdown.  And once they are melting down, they cannot self-regulate.  They cannot get themselves back to a normal state without a lot of help.

This process of self-regulation is a big goal for them. It involves both their ability to NOT meltdown in the first place, as well as their ability to get back to neutral once they have melted down. Anyway, one of the things we do to teach them this process is something that is known quite simply as a "redo." 

Once they are calm, we re-enact the crime (if you will) and this time they act appropriately, speak politely, don't freak out, don't melt down, don't punch anyone.  You know.  They self-regulate.  Supposedly, this helps their brain remember how to act in the future.

We are always, and I mean ALWAYS the initiators of the "redo."  But tonight, a miracle happened.  Shortstack was having a meltdown because she wanted to go bye-bye with her daddy, but she wouldn't get off the bike and go in the house, so we told her she couldn't go with him.  MELTDOWN.  But then, without warning, she stood up, walked over to me, calmed herself and said, "Can I have a redo?"

WHAT?!! YES!!!  Omgosh!!! 

I know this doesn't seem really monumental to most people, but to us, this was a MAJOR step toward her own self-regulation.  She stopped her own meltdown.  Suggested her own redo.  She regulated!  And that helps us see that her brain is healing.  Her brain is FREAKING HEALING!!!!

I'm seriously beside myself and just couldn't wait to share it with you all.

All that to say, the beautiful little girl she was created to be is slowly finding its way out.  I love watching miracles unfold.

Day 18: He Who Yells First, Loses

I heard a guy at Target the other day YELLING his fool head off at someone (a very small person, presumably a child) in the backseat of his car.  Outside of the fact that it really hurt my heart,  I thought to myself, "Buddy, you aren't doing a bit of good right now.  You've lost control.  You lose."

I have a rule I live by when it comes to yelling in anger; "He who yells first, loses."

I'm not opposed to yelling, don't get me wrong.  There are clearly appropriate times to raise your voice.  For example, let's say you are, oh, I don't know . . . at the park with your 3 year olds and they want to pet the nice pit bull that some crazy person is walking around with at a PLAYGROUND!  Yelling is okay then (at the kids, not the crazy person . . .)  Or let's say that said 3 year olds want to climb on the outside of the 10 FOOT HIGH SLIDE!  Yelling might be okay then.  In fact, I find that stressful, panic-driven situations often elicit a raised voice in me.

But raising your voice in anger typically means that you have lost control.  And if YOU aren't in control, then most likely the other person is.  And if the other person is your child, you are in trouble.
If you lose control, you lose the battle.  Lose enough battles, you lose the war.

So, when you are mad as all get out at your kids (or your spouse, or your boss) trying having an incredibly calm voice.  I find that it is very disarming to folks, folks of any age.  They really don't know how to handle an angry person who is calm.  I think maybe they fear you might erupt into a rage or something, so they tend to retreat or acquiesce.

All that to say, when you find that you are getting angry, try to talk softer and see what happens. Because remember, he who yells first, loses.

Day 17: Sweet Buns

I'm on staycation this week.  Of the 4 weeks of vacation I have a year, probably three of them are spent as staycations, because, well, I have three year olds, and that should be enough said.

So this week on my vacation, I have decided to take all the recipes I have pinned on Pinterest and start cooking my way through them.

This morning, after searching for online recipes for uses for leftover buns, I decided to create my own recipes (which is a slight divergence from my initial plan to cook through pinterest) but that's okay.

Here's my recipe:
about 7 buns (hamburger or hot dog)
1 cup of sugar (I thought later I should have added some brown sugar too!)
1 tbsp of cinnamon (you could probably reduce this)
3/4 cup of butter melted

Cut up the buns into bite sized pieces and place in a bowl
Stir in 3/4 cup of melted butter
Mix cinnamon and sugar together in a plastic bag
Dump bread and butter mixture into a plastic bag

Grease a bundt pan
Put bread and cinnamon mixture into bundt pan
Bake for 20 minutes.

RESULTS:
Tastes good.  Doesn't stick together.  So it comes out more like donut bites.  Next time, I'm going to try stirring 1/2 honey into the mixture to give it something to "cling to."  I'll keep you posted.  But hey, if any of you real chefs have any ideas for how to make this mixture actually stick together and come out looking like Monkey Bread, let me know.

UPDATE:  After dumping it out of the pan, it did stick together, but it lacks the gooey delicious texture of monkey bread.  I added a quick glaze of powdered sugar and sweetened condensed milk.  It tastes delicious, but needs some gooeyness.  I'll try again.

All that to say, I like staycations.  Pretty sure my blue jeans aren't going to be happy with me though!

Day 16: Consider the Source

When I was a little girl, I had the incredible good fortune to live in the same house with my grandma, Annie Dee.  Annie Dee was a funny old lady.  She had no teeth, except for the ones she kept in a jar by her bedside.  She lived back in the day when people didn't try to "save" their teeth, they just had them pulled and got dentures.  But she didn't like the way her dentures fit, so she just kept them in a jar beside her bed for special occasions. 

One of her favorite "special occasions" was putting those teeth in when we weren't expecting it, and scaring the b'geezus out of us by smiling all vampire-like and chasing us around the house!  Like I said, she was a funny old lady. ( She used to also wet her pants every time she laughed . . . and man is she mad at me from Heaven right now!)

But in addition to being incredibly funny, she was oh so very wise.  She had a lot of sayings that were really wasted on my youth, often totally over my head, or seemingly irrelevant.  But as I grew older, I began to understand just how wise her sayings were.  I'm sure none of them are even unique to her, but the fact that she said them, and the fact that they stuck with me all my life, make them "her sayings" in my mind.

A few of her favorites were

"Pretty is as pretty does."
"Good riddance to bad rubbish."
"A mouth full of that will make anyone sick."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the Lord does with this one."

and my personal favorite

"Consider the source, Sister.  Consider the source."

Consider the source means just that.  Think about the person who is speaking over you.  Is it someone you trust?  Is it a friend?  An adversary?  A wise person?  A fool? A person with a good reputation or someone of ill repute?  How likely is this person to speak truth?

I find that whenever someone says something unkind about me, something without merit, it is easy to dismiss the words if I just "consider the source."

And yet, for some reason, when the enemy speaks over me, I find it fairly easy to let those words seep in. 

Far.  Too.  Deep.

All that to say,  the next time the enemy speaks over me, I will listen to my grandma and "Consider the source, Sister.  Consider the source."

Day 15: Wisely Informed

I am a learner by nature. When faced with an unfamiliar task, job, problem, I do everything I can to educate myself about it.  I chalk this up to my analytical brain that likes to dissect things, reach the "aha" moment, and then move forward, armed with information.

I actually find it quite exhilarating to learn new things. 
Examples?

•  When I had a child in my ministry who was deaf and had only her parents to sign for her at church, I learned sign language so I could help her and her parents.
• When I taught first grade and wanted to make up songs to sing with my kids (I read that singing helps things stick in your long term memory banks better!), I learned how to play the guitar.
• When I became a Children's Pastor, I read and learned all I could about that, until eventually people started telling me that I should be writing books about Children's Ministry!

And now I am a mom of special needs kids.  When words like post traumatic stress disorder and proprioceptive input disorder and regressive attachment disorder and vestibular dysfunction get thrown at you,  (just to name a few) you have a couple of choices, as I see it.  You can either crawl back in bed, pull the blankets over your head and moan, or you can arm yourself with information, get a plan, and move forward!

I think the best way I can really help my babies heal is to learn how to help them.  So I read.  And I read.  And I talk to specialists.  And I listen to podcasts.  And I read some more.

And I will tell you this, I am ARMED with information right now as it relates to my girls and their disorders!

But I have also learned (the hard way, sadly) that I must balance my need to seek information with my need to seek God.  For some reason, I find it so much easier to "put on my thinking cap" than I do to sit at the feet of Jesus.  I'm so much like Martha of the Bible.  Always busy doing something, even if it's something good (like arming myself with information).

Of late, I have been so absorbed in learning about how to help our daughters, that I think I have forsaken the One who has the answers.

All that to say, information is important, but wisdom is priceless.  I cannot afford to simply be informed.

Day 14: Goo Day

Somedays, I am just a big pile of goo.  And by that I mean, I'm a mess.  I'm a giant amoeba with boundaries that are all over the place, threatening to spill out over everything without any notice.

And other days, I'm all neat and tidy.  My ducks are not only in a row, they are moving forward with a purpose.

I wish I knew what happens in the brain that allows such a shift.

Are women the only ones who experience such things?  Am I the only one?  Say it ain't so.  Say it ain't so.  It ain't so.  Right?

Today is a goo day.  Perhaps I will coin that phrase, "goo day."  Though if I say it aloud, people will think I am saying "Good day" and that I just have a speech impediment.  And they will smile at me, but in their heads they will be thinking, "Poor thing.  Such a tragedy that her speech is so bad."

In my head, that makes me laugh out loud.  Imagine the conversation.

"Good Morning.  How are you?"

"I'm having a goo day."

"Oh, well that's good.  Me too."

Tee hee.

I feel more duck-like already, just imagining that in my head.

All that to say, Here's to the goo days and the duck days.