Category Archives: Parenting

This is the stuff about being a family that is not necessarily specific to adoptive families – it’s just the strange and weird world we found ourselves in as a family.

Tummy Time

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After all the interest in my blog “Neglect at their Core“, I thought I’d write a blog specifically on Tummy Time – because not just any “lying on their tummy” time will do. The technique is important, so here is some specific advice to help you and your child develop their core neck and shoulder strength.

Make It Fun, Make It Often

  1. Build It In. If you can, create a regular routine to Tummy Time. We use TV time during the bedtime routine so it becomes just a natural part of what they do. Two months in and I still need to remind them, but they grab and cushion and lie down without a fuss.
  2. Make It Fun – start with something they already enjoy like TV time or tablet time or playing games. It helps to distract them from the fact that the position can feel quite unusual or uncomfortable at first.
    You could pretend to be sharks as you read a story, do it while they are colouring, or when playing board games (we love collaborative games).
  3. Praise Them – My children are quite competitive, so it helped when I timed them and showed them improving. I also gave them a tonne of praise (whooping, cheering, high fives) however long they managed.
  4. Start Small and Build. Bubbles could do less than five minutes at first, but we kept doing it daily and now she can do thirty minutes, sometimes an hour at a time.

Technique Counts

Here are some key elements to Tummy Time:

  1. Their body should like in a straight line from head to feet. If they struggle to hold that line, you can sandwich them between bodies (lie next to them) or pillows or a sofa or something to keep the line straight.
  2. Both their hips need to be on the floor. That means no tilting, no favouring one side, no wriggling. To make this fun, you can sit a teddy or their favourite toy on their bottom or lower back and reward them if the toy doesn’t fall off.
  3. You can use a cushion under their chest or arms to help make it more comfortable. We also found a rug or blanket under their body helped in the early days to soften the impact of the floor.
  4. The child should prop themselves up on their elbows – either to see something or play the game.

Sarah Lloyd shares a wealth of other ideas to build skills in your children in her book “Improving Sensory Processing in Traumatised Children” including work with blowing, crisps, touch and more.

Why Does This Matter?

Sarah Lloyd was kind enough to share with me, in her own words, the reasons why Tummy Time matters so much:

“Typically developing babies get control from the head down, from all the lovely floor time play we’re wanting babies to be doing with their parents or carers. This allows control to develop very naturally, starting with the head, then the shoulders and core get stronger.

You can see this really clearly if you watch babies learning to roll. When they start they can usually manage to go from their side onto their tummies, and then from their tummies to their backs and finally, from their back over onto their tummy.  From here, they can prop themselves up on their hands / outstretched arms and are almost ready for the off. All of these are such important stages in the child learning where their body is from the inside out, and building stability and strength.

Children who have spent those early months in frightening or neglectful situations tend to miss out on all of these movements that happen within that loving relationship, and this means that their bodies don’t get that fabulous foundation of core strength and stability before they start to move around and walk.”

“But it’s never too late – doing things like Tummy Time is the most effective way to go back and begin to fill in some of those gaps around core stability.”

Sarah Lloyd – author of “Improving Sensory Processing in Traumatized Children”
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Neglect At Their Core

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Bubbles is watching TV. Sitting – but not sitting.

  • She starts on her hands and knees
  • Seconds later, she tucks her bottom in and sits on her legs
  • She wriggles and moves her legs from under her
  • She sits with one leg on, one leg dangling off the sofa
  • Then she’s sits cross-legged
  • She moves again, perching with her bottom in the air

We’d often ask if she wanted the toilet. Mostly she didn’t, so why was she so fidgety, so restless? At teatime, the story is similar…

  • She takes her legs out and dangles one leg over the edge of the chair, so she is precariously off-balance all the time
  • She swings both legs furiously like a frantic pendulum
  • Occasionally she even tips far enough to fall off her chair
  • Always leaning heavily on her arms to keep herself upright, making her eating look clumsy and odd.

She never seems relaxed and I can’t help wondering how this affects her ability to concentrate at school. Is this hypervigilance (from having to always be “on guard” to keep herself safe as a child)? Is it just being a kid, or a reflection of her trauma?

Nothing I read in any of the books on trauma and adoption seem to even mention this physical symptom. I shrug and pray she will eventually “grow out of it.”

She Missed Commando Training

Then we attended a Post Adoption Support course recently on sensory development, led by the insightful and inspiring Sarah Lloyd.

Sarah explained in detail (as we took turns to lie on the floor and crawl) the way a child’s body builds:

  • first in the shoulders and neck – holding their head up, then lying on their tummy and craning to see
  • then rolling, commando-crawling – dragging their body forward with their arms and shoulders
  • later crawling on all fours, with opposite arms and legs moving in synchronised bilateral movement

She talks about floppy children. How you hold them and they sink and sag, as if their stuffing is missing.

Some children miss out on these stages of physical development. They are kept in baby rockers or car seats, and don’t do enough crawling to strengthen their neck and shoulders. Not only that, because they don’t turn and move alot, causing fluid to rush through their inner ear, their sense of balance is under-developed too.

Sarah explains how in extreme cases, a child might have to lean against a wall, their shoulder touching it the whole way, in order to walk down a corridor.

What’s more, she says that emotional regulation comes after physical regulation, so starting here is essential. That really gets my attention!

But They Can Walk!

Sarah asks us ‘At what age should a child be able to walk down the stairs, one foot on each step, without holding onto the railings?‘

Eight? Six? Seven? We suggest tentatively.

‘Two‘ she responds.

The gasps and shock that ripples around the room are clear evidence that our children have not met some physical milestones, despite their other achievements. We boldly offer evidence in their defence: “But they can run miles/ swim/ ride a bike” we protest. Sarah unveils the truth:

You can’t build their bodies from the legs up. They have to build from the neck and shoulder girdle down.

Sarah Lloyd

There Is Hope

As Sarah demonstrates, our children are underdeveloped. Yet she explains that we can take steps to retrace those missing items and build their sensory system in the order it was meant to develop.

Her advice seemed simple, against the complexity of trauma. But encouraged by her research and videos, we decide to give it a go. This is what we do:

  1. Stage 1: Tummy Time. We encourage Bubbles to watch TV at bedtime on her tummy (and other times). At first she manages five minutes before complaining that it hurts, but she builds to an hour within a few months.
  2. Stage 2: Commando Crawling and Wheelbarrows. We create races between the two (for Nibbles joins in after about a month, when his sister rapidly overtakes his shoulder strength). Even to the point that they do a wheelbarrow up the stairs to bed.
  3. Stage 3: Sucky Puddings (see part 2 of this blog).

In the physical stages 1 and 2, Sarah suggest we focus on technique. For instance, on lying straight, both hips on the ground for Tummy Time. It’s not about how long they do it, but getting the body in the right position.

Does It Work?

For the first month, we focused on Stage 1: Tummy Time (read more in my blog detailing this exercise here).

I had low expectations. Not because Sarah wasn’t brilliant, but because it seemed too simple, too obvious.

When was I last kicked at teatime? I thought to myself about a week into the experiment. I put my knife and fork down and sat back in my chair, casting a casual eye at my daughter. She was sat dead centre on the chair, and her legs were swaying a little, but nothing much.

No way. I thought to myself. It’s only been a week or so. Surely not? To say I was surprised was an understatement.

But she continued to sit in this manner. She started to lean back in her chair, without leaning heavily on her arms to keep herself upright. Her posture and core strength began to build, all from bedtime TV Tummy Time.

I was aghast. I wished I’d learnt this years ago. Just hours of lying on her tummy watching TV and she had begun to rebuild her core, resolving years of wiggling, fidgeting and leaning. I became a convert.

Yes there is more to rebuild. Yes it will take time to continue to work on these areas. No we don’t always do the exercises. But it feels that we’ve added another (important) piece of the jigsaw puzzle that will help our children become of the best versions of themselves that they can.

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Fight or Flight?

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When you are stressed, your body creates a number of automatic reactions, over which you have little control.

What used to be known as the fight or flight response can also include freeze and flop. But my children stick to the original line-up.

Flight

Bubbles reacts with Flight. When her emotions, when her world becomes too overwhelming for her, when she doesn’t know how to cope with what she is feeling inside, she runs and hides. In tiny dark corners or under beds, out of reach.

I want to get close, to stroke her back or hand, but mostly I have learnt to keep my distance, until she is ready. Sometimes I stay well away, more often I am close by – sometimes inside and sometimes outside her room.

“I’m right here when you need a hug“

She needs silence and space. Neither of which are easy for me, when I want to envelope her in a big comfy hug and tell her how much I love her.

With time (a few minutes mostly), she calms down, comes out of her room and we have a big hug.

Regulation in Flight

I might want to talk. To soothe away her fears with words and reasoning and more, but I have learnt to be patient. There are 3 stages to helping any child struggling with their emotions:

  1. Regulate
  2. Relate
  3. Reason

(This trilogy comes from Bruce Perry and here is a good graphic about it from Beacon House to print out and put on your fridge.)

Until Bubbles is calm and happy (and it’s up to her to decide when that is), I keep my vocalisation to comforting murmurs:

  • No discussion nor debate
  • No ‘helpful’ suggestions
  • Not even empathic words that tell her we know how she feels
  • It’s best when I say nothing at all

Fight Club

Nibbles reacts with Fight. When he can’t process his emotions and feelings, he raises his fists, frowns and growls, and starts hopping about like a boxer trying to pick a fight. The other day as he raised his fists, he said “Do ya wanna piece of me? Do ya?“

What do I do?

  • I can’t walk away, for that makes him angrier – he will drag on my clothes and up the fighting ante to keep me in the ring with him
  • If I talk to him, most things will anger him even more
  • He hates if I try to be playful (“Stop laughing at me!!“)

It used to be that Nibbles’ rages were few and far between, but they’ve been steadily increasing in the last eight months. Last summer (on my birthday!) he spiralled into a massive rage, surprising the heck out of my husband, who’d never experienced a full-blown rageathon before. Let’s just say neither of us handled that day very well.

Regulation in a Fight

Here’s what we are trying at the moment:

  1. Breathing deeply and staying super calm (blank or concerned facial expressions)
  2. Staying near, but out of arm’s length
  3. Reflecting his own experience in firm, clear words (similar to the tone and pace of his goading) “You must be really cross right now.”

Sometimes using the Theraplay paper-punching game helps him calm. Sometimes asking him to push against our hands with his, to use some of the rage in a more physical manner, works.

Sometimes he needs to get control of a situation, as his rage is often sparked by being told to do something. Clearly, since he is flushed with adrenalin, all choices need to be simple and limited (this OR that). For instance, when he stormed off as we walked to the shops, I sat on the pavement and calmly gave him a “Go Now and get something from the bakery for lunch, or Go Later and the bakery will be shut” choice. Within seconds he had calmed and chosen to Go Now.

But we haven’t got it right all the time yet, so this is definitely still a work in progress.

Becoming An Expert

Mostly what we have discovered is that what works with one child, doesn’t work for the other and what works on one day, backfires spectacularly on the next.

We are learning as we go, refining our approach, licking our wounds when we get it wrong, discussing, debating, reading books (like Sarah Naish’s A to Z) and trying to navigate through the fight and flight world of our children.

Let me know if you have any top tips to shortcut the process….

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Regulation and Dysregulation

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A few years ago I neither knew the word dysregulation nor did I use it frequently when answering my husband’s ‘how was today?’ question.

Yet as I began to learn about adoption, trauma and what drives behaviour, these words crept into my vocabularly, helping me to express my experiences as a mum.

But it turns out that I was not entirely correct in the words I was using to express the behaviours of my children. I believed that regulation and dysregulation were an either/or situation:

  • My child is/ I am regulated – calm, happy in control
  • My child is/ I am dysregulated – out of control, angry, fearful, responding with fight or flight, shouting

Yet as I read in Helen Oakwater’s book “Want to Adopt?”, I learnt that there is more to learn about trauma and emotions than a simple on/off, regulated/dysregulated emotional state.

What Is Regulation?

Regulation (when people are operating within their own unique ‘Window of Tolerance’) is a state where a person is sufficiently in control of their emotions that they can make conscious decisions.

Whilst frequently associated with calmness, we can be excited and regulated, shouting and regulated, running and regulated, sad and regulated.

Dysregulation is a state of emotional agitation, which may be uncomfortable, but the person is still in control, as in they act and respond from their thinking brain.

Hyperarousal

Hyperarousal is a state beyond dysregulation, when the thinking brain is shut down and people respond with from their autonomic nervous system (or ANS) with typically a fight or flight reaction.

There is a similar hypoarousal state, where a child is physical numb and shut down, which some parents might experience (but not me).

This helpful diagram lays out the relationships between regulation, dysregulation and hyper/hypo arousal that you might like to print out for reference.

Hyperarousal (that I have erroneously called dysregulation in this blog) is where our automatic reactions of flight, fight, freeze and flop come into play. In this state, we are unable to think and able only to react in a very basic survival-based way.

When children are in hyperarousal, we use Bruce Perry’s approach, focussing first on regulation. Because until the children (or adult) is calm and regulated, their thinking brain is turned off. So there is zero point to reasoning with them, as they are simply unable to listen or process what you are saying. It’s like trying to light a fire by putting a match to a log, the sequence is all wrong. (See Regulate/ Relate and Reason.)

Whilst I have been using dysregulated in my blog and tweets, what my children were experiencing was actually hyperarousal. Thank you Helen for adding much needed depth and nuance to my understanding.

I hope this blog and description will help you understand some of what goes on in the emotional state of yourself (when you leave your window of tolerance) and the stages to look out for.

You might also find this article on windows of tolerance helpful: https://www.attachment-and-trauma-treatment-centre-for-healing.com/blogs/understanding-and-working-with-the-window-of-tolerance

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Festive Fear for All The Family

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So Christmas (Easter, the Summer, end of term) is upon us again. Tis the season to be jolly, or in our family, tis the season to go a little bit bonkers and have a mini meltdown in a crowd.

Tisn’t The Season To Be Jolly

I love the whole trees, fairy lights, magical side of Christmas (Andy is on the Grinch side of the Christmas divide, but this blog is not about him) and we (okay, I) imagined that the children would love it too. So when they joined our family, we attended lots of Christmas fairs and events with the kids, to immerse them in fun, goodwill and festivities.

But last year, after a fairly bad tempered tree festival, we began to wake up to the fact that these events more often than not deteriorated into crossness, frowns, stomping off and accusations of ‘You are mean.’  We were treading a tightrope across an emotional minefield.

Spontaneous Is Not Fun

From a child’s perspective these events can be:

  • Noisy – there is often loud music and voices clamouring for attention
  • Crowded – being jostled amongst teeming throngs of tall giants isn’t much fun
  • Confusing – do we drink hot chocolate or have cake, listen to the choir or have a lucky dip? They want it all and that’s hard to handle
  • Overwhelming – sounds, sights, smells of food, choices, raised emotions in the people around them, all add up to a sensory assault and rapid overload

These events are different, special, OUT of the ordinary; yet ordinary is what my kids thrive on.

Adopted Children Love Routine

Routine might sometimes be synonymous with boring yet that’s what my children need. They feel safe and happy cossetted in a warm blanket of cosy predictability. Our family is happiest with a simple routine:

  • Getting up at the same time every day and doing things in the same order. The kids beg for breakfast in their PJs on a weekend, but it can throw the whole morning when I ask them to get dressed afterwards
  • Walking the same route to school – when Andy walked them once, Bubbles tugged on his arm and shouted ‘You are Going the Wrong Way!!!!‘
  • Having predictable meals/ mealtimes/ bathtimes/ playtimes/ bedtimes

Christmas is the Anti-Routine. It is a sparkly curveball that wrecks their safety, and threatens their fragile sense of safety and security. So it’s no surprise they don’t react with giggles and glee.

School Timetables Fear

Schools, nurseries, playgroups, churches etc, organise festive feasts of fun. Event after event after event to celebrate religious festivals or Mothers’ Day, Easter bunnies or ends of term. Discos, film nights, singing, dancing, storytelling, plays, performances, sports, clubs, painting, drawing, snowflake cutting, bake sales, fundraising events and more.

Events that are designed with the best of intention, but that create anxiety and fear in adopted children, traumatised children, kids who have experienced upheaval, abuse, violence or loss associated with this time of year, children who are introverted, or SEN, or autistic (the list goes on).

For Bubbles and Nibbles, these events trigger anxiety, discomfort, uncertainty and more. Even if they enjoy the final event, the countdown can be agony. Bubbles will fret for around two weeks before a performance – two weeks when her learning is reduced, when her trauma mask starts to slip, when her emotions are as unstable as TNT.

A Carol Concert of Fear

Bubbles is singing at a carol concert this week. She loves to sing and be part of the choir.

Knowing full well that this was going to trigger her anxiety, I’ve been telling stories about the concert with her, sharing how the audience will be smiling, how her teacher will be looking out for her. Yet I missed something, because I forgot to step into her world. As we walked to school today, we chatted about the concert, and one fear eclipsed them all:

‘The church. It’s big and scary‘ Bubbles told me.

She blew me away. Because not only had she expressed her fear out loud, she had added new detail to it, something that I wish I had known earlier. For we could have visited the church together (in advance). Wandered up and down its aisles, got used to its size and shape in the light of daytime. We could have looked for toilets or exits, seen the doors and the pews, seen light shining in the windows. We could have made friends with the church, and in doing so, taken some of the surprise (aka fear) out of the concert.

Festive Fun is Family Fun

So we are starting a new family Christmas tradition.  A Christmas focused on each other. On our relationships and connection, on our energy and well-being.

We are avoiding all the Christmas fairs and events in our local area (which started in November for heaven’s sake). There is little sign in our house that Christmas is approaching – there are no decorations up yet, no obvious signs of the festive season, and as little change to our routines as we can manage with the exception of Rudolf (our own little mischief maker).

Our children have their solid Sundays – a park run in the morning and a swimming lesson before tea bookend a simple day of family time. There may be a trip to the cinema, some tablet time and a walk but not much else.

We are learning to put predictability at the heart of our family and our festive season, for that is where the most fun will be had.

  • Fun can be simple, easy, calm.
  • Fun can be cheap, low-key, at home
  • Fun can be a picnic in the lounge, baking in the kitchen, dens in the bedroom, bubbles in the bathroom, a Theraplay game for one-on-one time, balloons in every room of the house

The heart of family (and festive) fun is creating a sensory experience that my children are comfortable with from start to finish.  

How do you ensure your children have fun (not fear) at out-of-the-ordinary events?Facebooktwitter

The Trauma Mask

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“She seems happy” says Hazel* (from school), as she sits on a table with our social worker Mo*.  We three are discussing how best school can support Bubbles to feel safe and secure.

I sigh deeply and remain silent, shaking my head a little.

Bubbles, like many traumatised children, lives her life behind a mask. A mask of control, of pretence, of keeping her feelings and emotions hidden. The mask only slips when she feels safe – when she feels secure enough to express the inner conflict of her world.

“Is Bubbles happy at school?” Hazel asks, her tone a mix of bewilderment and concern.

What should I say? There isn’t an easy answer.

A High Functioning Traumatised Child

Bubbles achieves in school. She is meeting expectations in all areas, exceeding them in reading. She tries really hard to do what she is told and what is expected of her. She tries (so hard) to please and be recognised and rewarded in school.

To all intents and purposes she might seem like a model pupil. She is what I call a highly functioning traumatised child. Yet a deep dark secret lies beneath the surface. 

But in holding in together, the truth leaks out as clues

  • The way she can tip into anger or frustration with a single misplaced word
  • Her reaction to friendship issues, to rejection taking it beyond personal into a slight on her very soul
  • How any stress or frustration shown by an adult will stress her out ten fold (by taking perceived safety from her)
  • Her chewing (raw, powerful grinding)

At a recent assembly I watched her chewing (as my heart went out to my amazing girl). It wasn’t just a curl of hair that strayed near her mouth; Bubbles was stuffing great handfuls of hair into her mouth and gnawing it with gusto. When it wasn’t her hair, it was the shawl I had crocheted for her. Yet minutes later, when I gently asked her if she was anxious, she denied it and seemed surprised that the shawl was wet.

The touching sight of her anxiety led me to action: whilst school had been hesitant when I had previous suggested one, that day I bought her a chewigem pendant to bite in school and at home (Bubbles was delighted). Her chewing isn’t the issue; anxiety is the issue. Bubbles isn’t present during her anxiety.  She is stuck in flight or fight mode (when her amygdala – what we call Amy – is in charge). Sometimes she simply doesn’t even remember being anxious or angry, as if her brain has blanked it out.

And because she doesn’t know she is anxious, she won’t tell you she is either.

Her Mask is Safety

Bubbles problem is simple: she doesn’t feel safe. Her early years were sufficiently chaotic and disorganised that she learnt that the only way to be safe was to be in control.

  • To take charge of every situation
  • To do what she is told to avoid anger or violence or harsh words
  • To deny her own emotions for they were too painful

She Yearns For Love

To her teachers and the staff, she seems a happy, cheerful model pupil. Like a swan. All elegant gliding on the surface, but beneath the water, her insides are churning like crazy.

Her need for love, for praise, for acknowledgement, for recognition competes with her anxiety. Bubbles sits and practices her times tables, her handwriting, her reading because she wants someone to notice her and smile.

A little eye contact and a smile mean the world to her.

Yet shame is just beneath the surface. A harsh word and her world crumbles. She tries so hard, exhausting herself every day holding everything tight, holding her world together, taking control of every tiny aspect of her life, losing the carefree years of her childhood.

The Mask Falls Away

At home Bubbles feels safe.

She can express her raw, intense emotions without being shouted at, without incurring the attention of the class, without being shamed. The mask falls away and I see just how much keeping it all together during the day costs my little girl.

I am humbled that she trusts me enough to express her rage, her anger, her intensity – and writing this the guilt rises up at the times when I didn’t react with empathy. On a day when multiple things have gone wrong, her rage can last two hours.

Homework is hard. Not because she is lazy or doesn’t care. Sometimes she cares too much.

  • Sometimes (after a good day) she has energy and enthusiasm to spare and aces her homework, which builds her fragile self-esteem
  • After a hard day, when her anxiety left her running on vapours, then it triggers rage because it feels too hard (and rocks her self esteem)
  • If her anxiety is still sky high, then it triggers shame because she can’t remember her spellings or times tables.

Her battle is real, every school day. Yet somehow through all of this, she still manages to absorb information, to learn, to have moments of fun and friendship.

But when you ask me if Bubbles enjoys school, I don’t really know what to tell you.

* not their real names.

This blog is an excerpt from Emma’s forthcoming sequel to her book “And Then There Were Four” that charts the struggle to learn to parent her adoptive children therapeutically, to get support from school and the adoption agency and to educate herself and others in the needs of her adopted children. It will be published in 2025 and entitled “And Trauma Made Five.”Facebooktwitter

The Crochet Conundrum: Sanity versus Presence

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If you follow me on social media, you will have seen a lot of photos of crochet lately. Have I lost the plot? Am I creating crochet orphans of my children, as my attention is drawn to the magical combination of hook and wool?

What’s with all the crochet?

Crochet Keeps Me Sane

I revived my crochet in the hope of skipping over the snacking-hour that has me dipping into highly calorific nonsense the minute Andy takes the kids to bed. And it is hard to crochet and each cheezy dibbles at the same time (unless you are using orange wool).

But in it, I found much more than just a distraction from biscuits.

  • It is utterly absorbing – my mind gets a rest from all the thoughts and problems such as my mum’s health problems
  • It is relaxing – it is a flow experience that takes over for minutes or hours at a time
  • I create something unique – an original combination of wool, hook and pattern that is practical (in winter at least)
  • It is fast – as someone who is undeniably impatient, I love making something in just a few hours (unlike books which takes years to mature)
  • I am learning new skills. Today I learnt how to start a double-crochet chain and it felt amazing to nail it (even if it’s not going to make my CV)
  • It gives me something productive to do in those few moments where I would be twiddling my thumbs or checking my phone for the umpteenth time

The Hours We Wait

As a parent, the hours of waiting (when I’m purely there in my capacity as a Bouncer) seriously add up

  • At the school gate – as they race off and play with their friends until the door opens
  • At the swimming pool – we are there way too early (soo excited to go swimming, even ten minutes of shivering as we wait cannot dull her giddiness), and it takes ages to pull skin-tight leggings over damp post-swim legs
  • At mealtimes – waiting for them to finally finish the plate or declare that they can’t eat another bite (unless there is pudding)
  • At the playgym or park – when I am there to ward off Stranger Danger, to rescue them (less often nowadays) or ferry them to the toilet

Parenting can often feel like a hundred waits a day – all strung together. Nibbles and Bubbles are at an age now when they don’t want me to play tag with them in the school playground (Mum! No! How embarrassing!), but I have to be there.

Now I get to add a few more rows to a hat or scarf, whilst looking up like a less-nervous meerkat occasionally to revel in their play, in their games, in their swinging or balancing as the sun catches my face.

Sanity Versus Presence

Recently I commented to Sarah Fisher (author of Connective Parenting) that I was concerned that my Parental Presence was suffering as a result of my current crochet fad. Parental Presence is the true gift of your unwavering, undivided, unhurried attention that lets them know that you care, that they matter etc.

Her reply (which inspired this blog) was “Ah the balance of sanity vs presence”

How can I be sure that my crochet (or tweeting, or next hobby) is positive for the whole family, rather than just positive for me?

  • Do I still pay attention to my children? Am I emotionally available to them when they need to be heard, listened to, to talk, to share, to ask for help (or do I tell them to go away as I. Am. Busy?)
  • Do I ensure that I give my children my undivided (hooks down, wool out of sight) attention at both the start and the finish of each day?
  • Do I wait for my children to decide that they do not want my attention/ energy before I pick up my hooks/ phone etc?
  • Do I spend more time (when the kids are around) with them or with my hooks?

I haven’t always got it right (I told Andy that I was busy just last night, counting stitches as it happened). And that last one had me responding with an Oh (followed by ouch) which tells me that recently the balance has been in favour of crochet rather than them.

Yet the truth is, that whether I am ready for them to grow up or not, Nibbles and Bubbles need (and want) me less and less these days.

They are more independent, more self assured, keener to do things on their own. Bubbles loves to spend time at her (new) desk in her bedroom, reading, writing and more. Nibbles loves to play, but often on his own rather than with me. And in that gap, in that new space in our family, I have rediscovered a love of crochet. I just have to make sure that it doesn’t nudge the other fledglings out of the nest, like an oversized cuckoo.

So I am setting out my stall in front of you, my audience, as you are my witness:

I choose both – my kids and crochet, parental presence and sanity.

 

 

 

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What To Write In Letterbox Contact

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Letterbox Contact is a regular (in our case annual) letter sent between adopters and birth parents, via the adoption agency.

It’s a letter than may never be read, or may be read and treasured and read until it’s as fragile as a butterfly’s wings.

The first letter I sent was an agonising battle between being too personal (leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to our front door) or being as bland and impersonal as a tabloid horoscope. I didn’t even know how to start (Hello.. Dear Birth Mum, To Whom It May Concern – an experienced recounted in squirming detail in my book).

Now on my Nth letter, I have settled into a bit of a pattern, which I am sharing with you.

Why Do I Write?

  1. We agreed to write as part of our adoption process. It’s part of my duty to my children and to their birth parents.
  2. Our children willingly engage and are involved in the writing, and whilst they want a response, the lack thereof does not create obvious additional trauma. If it did, the choice would not be as easy to make.
  3. It feels like both the most and the least we can do – I imagine how I might feel as a birth parent estranged from her children and how desperate I may be for information. Whilst we do not know if the birth parents receive these letters from the agency, I know they will be kept on file in case the birth parents get in touch later and at least I have done what I was asked to do.
  4. I was and still am a bit of a teacher’s pet when it comes to doing what I am told and doing my homework, so I write it and hand it in on time, like the goody-two-shoes that I am.

Whilst we do not receive responses to our letters from their birth parents, we continue to write every year.  I keep copies of both the letters and any drawings we send in a folder that Nibbles and Bubbles will get to read and keep when they are older.

What NOT To Write

All adoption agencies will provide clear guidance on what NOT to include, but generally it is information that might reveal a specific location, such as:

  • Place Names – I might write that we went to the seaside, but not name the resort, or that we visited a castle, but not which one (even if it is hundreds of miles from our home address)
  • School Information – I write what year they are in, but not the name of the school (nor do I include names of teachers, classes, colour of school uniform, out of school clubs, or anything that could help them track the children to a specific school)
  • Photos – in our agreement, photographs are NOT included in letterbox, for some they are

What To Include

There are five main elements to my annual letterbox that I feel gives a rounded view of the children, whilst accepting that as a few pages of A4 the letter will always fall short of what a birth parent might wish to receive:

  1. Facts and Firsts
  2. Favourites
  3. Experiences
  4. A Specific Story
  5. A Drawing or Handprint

Facts and Firsts

Here I might write about how tall the children are, their shoe size, the school year they are in (or if they are now attending nursery). When younger, it might be the size of their clothes (now in size 18-24 months!!) or other relevant information to give a sense of physical growth. Factual information about their life and their current routine that gives an overview of the child.

In addition, I add their developmental milestones or Firsts. So things like first words, tying a shoelace, learning to spell their own name or to ride a bike, reading a book aloud, baking a cake or similar. These are the notable changes between the years and bring to life the child’s development.

You might want to think beyond things they learn in school such as reading & maths, and include personal skills (brushing their teeth, getting dressed), home skills (baking, washing up, helping with DIY), physical skills (riding a scooter, handstands, running) and hobbies (sewing, painting, Lego, Meccano, making a den, or computer games for online Whizz Kids).

Favourites

I love to include information about the children and their favourite things each year, which change as often as the people they want to invite to next year’s birthday party!  I might talk about Nibbles’ favourite joke, or Bubbles’ favourite book, or their favourite pop music (such as the Spanish song they currently sing incessantly without really knowing the words so it is a weird Burrito-infused earworm), the Floss, TV programmes, movies, food and more. It gives an insight into what the children really love about life, and the birth parents might note their own favourites amongst these things.

Experiences

This is the bulk of the letter – a bit of a “what have we done this year” overview – where holidays, day trips (but never school trips), unusual experiences, birthdays or Christmas get summarised in a few paragraphs. I don’t boast, but aim for a mix of unusual events and regular routines, like going to the library, going for a swim, meeting friends, having sunday lunch with family. It gives them a flavour of what their children have been doing over the year, both ordinary and extraordinary.

A Story

I then go from the generic to the specific – adding a short story that uses direct quotes from the children, to add a level of intimacy to the letter. It’s likely to be a specific incident that has happened recently and I tend to focus on things that made me laugh.

I include quoted lines from the kids, using their words and sentence structure. So years ago, I might have told a story about Nibbles, as I was busy tidying up and he zoomed his toy car under the kitchen table. He turned to me and pointed. As I ignored him, he sidled behind me and gave me a gentle shove on the bottom, saying sternly to me:

“Car Mummy. Get it. You get it Mummy”

His tone had me doubled over in laughter, whilst I commented that I was too big and he had to get it. He responded by patting me again and repeating “You get it.”

I believe (or hope) that having a tiny glimpse into their children’s lives can help them feel connected, even at this physical distance.

A Drawing or Handprint

In our Letterbox agreement, there is no provision for photographs of the children. We sometimes therefore include a drawing that the children their own time drawing – without much guidance, although I tend to discourage them from drawing a picture of their family (as that might be rubbing things in rather). You might also like to include a handprint, footprint, or outline of a hand that is coloured in.

Final Words

As I am writing the letter, I let Nibbles and Bubbles know that it is Letterbox time.

(This year I asked if they knew what letterbox was. Bubbles responded “I know what A letterbox is”!! But quickly clued in when I mentioned writing to their birth parents.)

I ask them if there is anything in particular they would want me to tell their birth parents, and ensure that I include that (if not on the banned list).  Once the letter is written, I let Andy have a read through and see if there is anything he feels needs adding, removing, amending or other. When we both feel that it is a good reflection of the year, I read it out slowly to Nibbles and Bubbles gauging their response.

Finally I ask them “Is there anything else you would like to ask or tell them?” Sometimes they come up with a question or add something specific, sometimes not. We shall see what happens this year, but as they grow older, their involvement in the process, and their editorial influence will continue to develop.

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly

Whilst I strive for honesty in Letterbox, I do shy away from discussing some of the trauma-related behaviours that our children experience.  I haven’t mentioned therapeutic parenting or PACE as I don’t want to cause distress or hint at blame.

I am not even sure whether or not to mention some of the struggles they have had that are perhaps neurotypical – such as Bubbles’ experience of being bullied in school. So forgive me for a slight whitewash to my letterbox, but I feel conflicted about sharing the dark sides of our lives with their birth parents when they receive so little.

Maybe the content isn’t perfect, but I continue to write, to share stories and snapshots into the lives of these children with their birth parents. Because I believe that for now, it is the right thing to do.

 

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Ice Ice Baby Please Please Sleep

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The lounge door opens. We pause the TV (just in case). It’s TOO hot Mummy. I sigh. I am rapidly running out of ideas. Bubbles really needs her sleep and last night, the hottest night of the year so far, was a particularly protracted bedtime – instead of lightly snoring at 8pm, she came down to complain umpty-seven times and was still awake nearly an hour later.

Some children might cope quite well with less sleep, but tiredness is a big trigger for emotional dysregulation in our house, so I do everything I can to help them sleep. Here’s some of the things I have and will be trying.

Ice in the Room

Keeping the room as cold as possible helps enormously:

  • Close the curtains during the day to stop sunshine warming the room through the windows
  • Once the sun is no longer shining directly in, open the curtains and the windows to the max
  • Ensure that the air has room to flow – that means leaving their door open (and tiptoeing around at night), but an open window with a closed door doesn’t work
  • Use a fan to circulate air and cool the skin (cue complaint about the noise!). As an added bonus Fi (@wilmawasmycat on twitter) suggested putting bottles of frozen water in front of a fan to provide air conditioning. One to try tonight.

Daytime Ice-child

For daytime cooling off:

  • Hoses, water pistols and even a sprinkler. We don’t have a sprinkler, but Michelle (@Reader5Michelle on twitter) said that it was the best £20 [she] had ever spent for summer fun. So I might have to invest (if I can silence my water saving eco warrier) because it is hilarous and cools us down. I might use the hose in the meantime…
  • Paddling pool – this is the time of year when even straight-from-the-tap paddling pool water is acceptable to my kids. So let them soak, splash and more to keep cool during the daytime.

Nighttime Ice-child

We have a standard bedtime routine with TV and stories that keeps the children’s emotions and energy at an even keel and this is even more important on hot days (for ours, running around outside in the heat and then coming in for bed simply wouldn’t work).

You can also use these tricks to cool them down to help sleep come more easily/ quickly:

  • A cold bath or shower – preferably as close to bedtime as possible, so either move their existing bath or shower nearer to lights-out or add an extra dip just beforehand
  • A cold flannel or sponge – on the forehead, the back of the neck, over the skin for a light wash. Where possible, leave the moisture on their skin as its evaporation will cool the skin. Removing the clammy sensation and making them feel fresh can make a huge difference and give them a window of coolness in which to fall asleep. If they don’t like the feel of a flannel, ice-cold water in a spray that leaves a fine mist might suit them better
  • Ice on the skin – whilst it makes Bubbles giggle and wriggle, often an ice cube rubbed down her spine, over her forehead and on the back of her neck is even better than a flannel
  • An ice-water bottle. Hot water bottles are so, like, winter, don’t you know. But the same bottle filled with cold water (and ice if you have any leftover from your G&T) is something tactile they can keep next to them as they try to sleep. It lasts longer too, so they don’t pop down to tell you how hot they are every ten seconds
  • A cold drink – some sips of cold tap water can cool your child a little
  • A small pieces of ice to suck on – my kids both like to suck or chew on ice, so it’s both a treat and can help them feel they are doing something to fight the heat. It might be a sense of control over the heat that matters most

Ice Their Mind

Much of the problem with a hot night is not the heat. It’s our thoughts and how frustrated we get about them.

Bubbles: It’s too hot

She is not really telling me it’s hot, because I know it is hot, and she’s already told me five times in the last twelve minutes.

As tempting as it is to reply: Just Go. To. Sleep that is about as useful as telling her to calm down. I need to read behind the lines, to the words she isn’t saying, to what she really wants. The least I need to do is respond with empathy:

Me: It must be very frustrating feeling so hot when you want to sleep.

It might be that she wants a specific technique – so I might ask How can I help? And she might admit she wants a cold water bottle.

But these are some useful techniques that apply just as much (if not more) on hot days to help my daughter (particularly) calm down:

  • Calming her thoughts. Our brains cannot hold two conflicting thoughts at once. So if we can replace the I hate the hot weather, it’s too hot thought with something more helpful that will calm us, that will shove the other one out. As we walked to school today, we talked about how it is often our thoughts about a situation, not the situation itself that keeps us awake. Perhaps thoughts like I love the sunshine. This is just warm. I can fall asleep quickly and easily will work? We will be testing these tonight.
  • Calming her breath.  Sitting alongside her for a few minutes and just breathing slowing together in silence can help her to relax a bit.

Today has been another scorcher of a day, and tonight is forecast to be hot. I have bought another cold-water bottle so the kids won’t fight over them, I have some plastic bottles 3/4 full of water in the freezer for my homemade air conditioning and we will be talking through some more positive thoughts before bed.

Wish us luck…

What techniques have you found to be useful in helping your children (and adults) to get to sleep faster on a hot muggy days?

 

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TP pie chart for a day

You Are More Therapeutic Than You Think

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You think you’re getting it all wrong. You feel like a failure. You want to be a fabulous therapeutic parent (TP) but you messed up. (Again.) You ask yourself When Will I Get This Right?

You rate yourself as a rubbish parent. 1 star. On a good day. (Blah blah woe is me blah)

But you’re already getting it right, far more than you give yourself credit for.

Look At Me! Look At Me!

Over the ten days of half-term, we experienced some testing days. Perhaps 3 of them. Or in other words, 70% of the time things went okay or better. Oh, I thought. It felt harder than that.

There’s more. The tricky days weren’t entirely awful. There were whole hours of peace, calm, playing, reading, eating, walking within those days that were okay. Even the hard days were good about 70% of the time.

So it would be more accurate to say that half term was ~5% awful, 95% not-bad, good or surprisingly good, occasionally jaw droppingly cute. Yet it didn’t feel like that.

Why not?

Apparently we are hardwired to remember bad times up to three times more than good times. Helpful? Nope. Those not-so-good memories bounce around our minds, jumping up and screaming Look At Me! whilst the lovely ones melt into the past like steam off that cup of tea you made- gah, cold again?

Savouring My TP Genius Moments

I am a TP genius for at least 12 hours a day. (Go Me). Yes, my kids are asleep for those hours, but it doesn’t detract from the fact that I am brilliant then. And there’s more: when my kids are at school (6 h/day) I’m also a TP Goddess.

It’s time that I recognised that for the vast majority of my day, I am kind, patient, wise, generous, quirky, fun and more. Sometimes I am these things when the kids are around.

Pie to Decimal Places (There’s Always Room For Pie)

Being realistic (see pie chart above), I average:

  1. Genius 5% of the time. This is the parenting equivalent of a getting an unexpected pay rise at work, another week of annual leave whilst going to a 4-day week. Rare as something affordable in Smiggle, but wonderful when it happens.
  2. Good/ Great 20% of the time. I am calm, patient, playful, curious etc. Note: this is not assessed by how my children behave but how I behave towards them*
  3. Okay 50% of the time. Not perfect. Mostly calm, maybe a bit flustered. But normal, everyday parenting level of competence. I didn’t nail it, but I didn’t break it either.
  4. UnTP/ Umm 25% of the time. When I will tut and say That could’ve gone better. Let’s look on the bright side – I created a learning experience, a chance to flick to the relevant page in Sarah Naish’s A to Z of TP and get value for money out of my TP Encyclopedia.

*Too many times I’ve judged myself badly because my child was dysregulated or defiant. I cannot control them (believe me, I tried); I can only take credit for how I behave (which is a double edged sword the times they are adorable and cute).

Instead of judging myself against an expert (Dan Hughes) with over 40 years experience, based on some ridiculous idolised version of a Therapeutic Parent, my aim is to be the best version of TP Emma I can be, knowing that I am flawed in lots of quirky and interesting ways that make for better blogs and books.

Give Yourself Credit

Here’s what you can do if you find yourself wallowing in self doubt:

  • Stop aiming for being a living embodiment of Dan Hughes, Kim Golding, Ghandi or whoever you most admire in the world of adoption, therapeutic parenting, NVR etc. You are you. That is enough. No-one gets it right all the time
  • Start recognising how far you have come
  • Start celebrating the big, small and microscopic wins
  • Start focusing on all the times your little cactus flowers

Being a TP is hard enough without you getting all judgemental on yourself too. So give yourself a break. Remember this:

YOU. ARE. AMAZING.

 

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