Category Archives: Post Adoption

This is what happened once the children were living with us full time – the finding our feet as a family years (which are still on-going).

Neglect At Their Core

2 Replies

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:

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.
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.
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.

High-Energy Breathing Games for Regulation

Leave a Reply

I’ve read that you can calm an agitated nervous system with an out-breath that’s twice as long as your in-breath.

That sounds simple enough. But is it?

A slower breath can help our children (and adults when our buttons gets pressed) to regulate, or stay in control.

(Read my blog on Regulation for more information about emotional states.)

Much of the time, I keep at least one eye/ ear on my kids, watching and listening for clues as to their emotional state. Sometimes they tip from regulated to hyperarousal in an instant, but other times it builds more gradually (via dysregulation – read my blog on Regulation for more information about emotional states.)

When it builds slowly, I have an opportunity to help them practice de-escalating their emotional state, to learn how to bring themselves down into their window of tolerance and avoid hyperarousal.

Since breathing is so simple and important, surely that is a winning approach?

And Breathe…

Well yes and no. I have tried (and failed) many times to use low-energy breathing exercises (e.g. suggesting they breath deeply to a rhythm I am clapping) to regulate their state.

The issues is the disconnect between their energy levels and what I am suggesting they do. When a child is on the giddy-excitable energy level, asking them to butterfly breaths doesn’t actually work.

They don’t want to calm down – they are enjoying being giddy
The step from giddy to calm is too steep to take in a single leap
Worse still, it can aggravate a situation through a lack of empathy (“you are spoiling our fun!”)

So instead, I use high-energy breathing games. Games that include the giddy-factor as it were. Here’s a list that the good people of twitter and I have created to give you lots of different ideas and stave off the “not again!” and “boring” responses.

Go Anywhere Games

These are games that can be done anywhere (although excessively loud roaring in confined spaces like cars and public toilets is not recommended):

The SHHH!! Game – see who can do the longest shhhhhhhhh without taking a breath (create a story about A Sleeping Lion or Creeping past a napping Grandma to get biscuits, or being a Ninja Stealing the Crown Jewels to make it fun)
The Opera Game – tell the story of a note that can break a glass and then ask everyone to practice with a long note at any pitch or volume
The Zoo Story – ask the kids to play the part of animals in a short story about the jungle. The animals need long and loud noises (roaring lions, trumpeting elephants, hissing snakes) with/without actions to match their energy levels and age
The Hot Chocolate Game – ask the children to describe their favourite hot drink (or soup), then create an imaginary tea party. Breathe in the smell (in long slow inhales)? Blow on the soup or chocolate to cool it (long slow breaths as it is very very hot). Take a long slow sip that makes the best / most disgusting sucking noise
The Lion Taming Game – the child plays the roaring lion; you time how long they roar (again a non-stop roar works best) and give them an inventive Lion Name based on how long they roar (Everlasting Roar of Africa, Supersonically Loudest King of the Jungle etc)
Dragon’s Breath – each person does the best fire-breathing dragon impression and you see how big a cloud of smoke they can create (best outside in cold winter months)
Blow Me Over – you can use the 3 Little Pigs as inspiration, or just ask them to blow your fringe out of your eyes/ blow so hard you have to close your eyes/ blow you over (lots of pretending being blown over and laughing to maximise playfulness)

You can also use any version of humming, singing, roaring, whistling and shouting to encourage children to create long out-breaths and hence calm their nervous system.

Games With Straws

Straws (reusable are most eco-friendly) are excellent blowing and sucking props – you can even buy foldable metal straws that fit in your pocket.

Blowing bubbles in a small amount of milk – getting the bubbles to the top of the glass (tall, wide glasses make this game last longer)
Blowing bubbles in a washing up bowl with washing-up liquid in it (only if the child is unlikely to suck it up)
Sucking thick milkshake through a straw or using “flavour straws” with milk
Blowing paint pictures (see photo above) – mix paint with water (thick card words best) and blow it to make fireworks, or splodges or alien pictures (add googly eyes for spectacular aliens, glitter for fireworks)
Assault Courses – using a mix of blowing and sucking to move lightweight items (see list below) around a mix of tunnels and walls. Sucking can be tricky with youngster (<5 YO) so test them out first to avoid making it too hard. Can be as simple as moving ten Maltesters from one plate to another by sucking them onto the straw and lifting them over with the power of suction alone
Blowing lightweight items around a track – e.g. a mini-golf course made of Lego or wooden bricks, or through a wooden tube (toilet roll), or along the floor/ to one end of the table in a cotton-wool footie game

Games With Lightweight or Ball-Type Items

Cotton wool balls are lightweight and very easy to move by blowing (hence lots of pride-inducing success) that can form the basis of lots of games. You can also use feathers, Maltesers, round grapes, and Poppets (or other similar round edible items) for these games.

Table football using a piece of cotton, wool or masking tape to divide the table (you can only blow from your end of the table). Use one or more cotton wool balls (lots = highest energy, aim is to blow them all off)
Blow a cotton wool ball between you and child whilst lying on the floor (best on wooden floors without too much dust especially if one of you is asthmatic). This is a Theraplay Game that my kids love
Light as a Feather Game – keeping feathers in the air by blowing underneath them and seeing how long you can keep them up. Try with leaves or helicopter seeds outside
Mazes – building mazes from bricks, Lego, whatever you can find and then blowing cotton wool balls, feathers or similar around the maze (with or without a straw)

Other Blowing/ Sucking Games

Musical instruments – harmonicas, kazoos, whistles, recorders etc work for long out-breaths
Inflating and releasing balloons is a huge favourite with my kids – chasing them around and then blowing them up gradually calms their arousal state
Blowing bubbles (preferably outdoors) and then chasing/ popping them helps when they are the ones blowing them
Bubble Gum – both the chewing action and the attempts to blow bubbles calms them down
Party Blowers – the ones that make a funny noise and unravel are great for long slow out-breaths
Lying down and placing a favourite teddy on your tummy. Then taking really big deep breaths to knock the teddy or dinosaur or Lego mini-figure off your tummy.

The next time you notice your child heading out of the regulation zone and towards hyperarousal, then why not try one of these high-energy breathing games?

Instead of clashing with their energy levels, you can exploit their enthusiasm and channel it into a game that will gradually lower their arousal and keep them in control.

Adoption Myths: They Won’t Remember

Leave a Reply

It is tempting to imagine that a child adopted at a young age will not remember the trauma or neglect they experienced. It’s something well-meaning friends and family might say to adopters when they are cradling a small child in their arms ‘They won’t remember’.

The idea is superficially true – young babies and toddlers will not consciously recall their experiences. They may never say “Mummy hit me” but that doesn’t mean to say that they are unaffected by their experiences.

A foetus will not remember the alcohol their mother drank, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t spend their whole lives trying to overcome the changes to their brain and body.

A Little Bit of Neglect

Is neglect worse than abuse? Is alcohol in the womb worse than violence once born? Are wounds that can be seen (treated, mended) worse than those that can’t?

Nearly all children adopted in the England are adopted from social care, having been removed from their birth family due to neglect and inadequate care. We were told that during our preparation training by our adoption agency, so we knew that. But we also were painfully naive about the potential impact of that neglect on their brains, on their development, on their bodies, on their emotions.

Researchers have started to assess the impact of neglect using simple experiments. In this one, a parent deliberately ignores (neglects) their child for a short period. Note that:

The child is safe
The child has an adult in close proximity

This research, devised by Dr Edward Tronick powerfully demonstrates just how vital eye contact, engagement, play and responsiveness is to a baby as young as one.

“The results are almost immediate and they are devastating. The baby looks to the dad and tries to get the dad back into those games… the baby starts to get frustrated… within three minutes the baby has really dissolved“

The Impact on a Child

By being grounded with a parent, who provides a sense of safety and helps her keep an even (emotional) keel, the researcher Dr Richard Cohen goes on to say that the baby can:

explore the world
meet new people
try new things

All because the baby has that safebase to rely on. Dr Cohen goes on to say:

“We can only begin to imagine what it’s like for babies whose life is like … all of the time – and they don’t get that responsiveness, they don’t get any help getting back to an even keel”

The long term impact can be that the child:

has trouble trusting people
has trouble relating to people
has trouble being calm enough so that they can explore the world

Our Adopted Children DO Remember

Our children cannot tell us what they experienced in their lives with their birth family – and we don’t have all the information either.

Yet we have seen how they can struggle with trust, with relationships, with staying calm or on an even emotional keel (all the things the researcher quotes above). As they grow older, these first experiences seem to have an even greater ripple effect on their social interactions and school life.

Bubbles’ stress-response (amygdala) is super sensitive and often hijacks her brain with a fight or flight response to what is an apparently trivial event. Such that the festive season becomes a tightrope of stress, overwhelm and more (see Festive Fear For All The Family).

Babies Are…

As Dr Cohen says at the start of this video, babies are much more capable than imagined – capable of instigating play, of encouraging their carer to interact with them and respond to them.

But they’re also much more vulnerable.

The next time someone tells you that child adopted at a young age won’t remember, why not show them this video and blog?

What To Write In Letterbox Contact

1 Reply

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?

We agreed to write as part of our adoption process. It’s part of my duty to my children and to their birth parents.
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.
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.
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:

Facts and Firsts
Favourites
Experiences
A Specific Story
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.

My Little Pomeranians

Leave a Reply

Apparently the names that I use online for my children are derogatory, or so an adoptee told me today.

The adopter saw a tweet where I mentioned Nibbles and Bubbles and was irate..

Bubbles and Nibbles? Are they Pomeranians? This is how APs [adopted parents] refer to us. Cutesy disrespectful little names that make us sound like housepets. Or AD4 (adopted daughter age four. AS is adopted son). We are people, not furniture to “place” or accessories to wear like badges.

When I explained that they had pseudonyms to keep them safe, the person remained unforgivingly angry at me.

Perhaps they would like me to use my children’s given names? To leave a digital trail for their birth parents to find them?

There Is Nothing…

.. I would not do to keep my children safe. I am fiercely protective and beautifully proud of my children and all that they achieved given their adverse starts in life.

I have and will continue to do everything in my power to give them a family that loves them and undo the damage that they experienced both before they were born and in the early months and years of their life.

At times I need support, someone to listen to my life, someone who understands the unique challenges of being an adopter. That is why I am on twitter (as well as to offer the same to others when they need it). If you are there to judge me, then please unfollow me. When I try and talk to you, open your mind and listen, rather than tell me that I am only on social media to “exploit my children” to get “sympathy hugs and congratulatory back pats.”

She Is Not You

You shout that your opinion counts because YOU ARE AN ADOPTEE.

Yes you are an adoptee. And as such your personal experience of adoption is unique. And possibly a world apart from that of Nibbles and Bubbles. Not all adoptees are alike, not all adoptions are alike and not all adopters are alike.

It seems I am your enemy based entirely on the fact that I am an adopter.

Today has been tough. I have cried buckets today, so I sought out my twitter family for support. And in amongst the support I gave, came your vitriol.

Bubbles raged today. A symptom of what happened to her before we met, when she lived with her birth parents, when her body, mind and soul were neglected. In those first vital months, when she should have been loved, nurtured, cherished; when she should have learnt that the world was a safe and loving place, she was neglected. Instead, her experience taught her that she didn’t matter, that however hard she cried, no-one was listening, that no-one cared, and her needs went unmet. She learnt that the world was a place of danger, that everything was a potential threat; she learnt to be vigilant and constantly alert.

She should have been cuddled
Her cries should have bought help, comfort, love
She should have been fed when hungry, changed when wet and put to bed when tired
She should have learnt that the world was a kind and loving place

Her brain didn’t learn how to control stress, her hippocampus did not learn that if she cried that comfort would come and so it didn’t need to be high alert all the time. That experience should have happened over a thousand times in her first year of life. But it didn’t.

You know nothing of this, because this is not your experience. I respect the needs of adoptees to express their experiences, to share their dismay in the process, their disappointment, their rage.

But stop treating adopters as the enemy.

I am not your enemy. I am willing to learn from the mistakes of the past. Providing you are willing to listen without judgement.

I will continue to keep my children’s identity a secret. I will continue to parent them in a way that builds their self-esteem, that redresses some of the neglect they suffered, that slowly but surely trains their hippocampuses that threats vary in nature and to respond appropriately. To help her stay regulated so that she can be the kind, loving and generous girl that I love and adore.

My children know their life story, they know their parents’ names, their identity, the reasons they were adopted. They are in touch with their foster carers, and I will help them find their birth parents if and when they chose.

There is nothing I would not do to protect them and I am sorry if those pseudonyms offend you. I am not going to change a thing.

Five Lessons in Five Years as a Family

Leave a Reply

Five years’ ago today, Andy and I sat nervously in the car, like cops on a stakeout, waiting for 10am, for an awkward handover on the doorstep, for our family to begin in earnest.

We Started With a Wobble

That first morning, as Nibbles and Bubbles navigated the high nets at soft play, I stared in awe and undisguised wonder, bubbling over with novelty and what-have-we-done? fear. It was a pinch me moment; we were finally a family; tonight they would sleep at our house.

Five years on, I’ve learnt a few things:

#1: Love Is Everywhere

When Nibbles first said Love you, Mummy he took my breath away. There is a tenderness, a gentleness and a connection in so much of what they do that shouts I love you.

When they had nothing, they gave me things – sticks, stone, leaves, blossom, now it’s notes or drawings
They care about me. When I was poorly, Bubbles fetched me a toy, blanket and read me a story; Nibbles gives me an emergency hug when he thinks I need one (with unerring accuracy)

They hug and kiss, they share their inner worlds with me (even rages, with a vulnerability and openness that takes my breath away), they look delighted when I collect them from school and when I’ve been away, they gush with love and cuddles as if they store it up when I am not here.

From turning up my favourite song on the radio, to giving me first lick of his ice-cream, love is everywhere and everyday in our family. It’s woven through all our stories too.

#2: Stories Beat Stuff

We have our keepsakes – her first lost tooth, that thing (we’re not sure what) he made out of egg boxes and glitter, photos galore, but these props simply help us remember something even more valuable – the stories we’ve shared:

When Bubbles got bored of listening to Andy and I debate (aka argue) over how best to teach her to ride her bike and just rode off behind our backs and nailed it
When we took Nibbles on his first bus ride and he just said bus, bus, bus all the way to town delighting every jaded bus passenger en route
Staring at snails waiting for their eyes to pop back out, sand in the wrong places, stirring seaside soup, snipping hair under the table and snaffling pancakes from my sister’s Yurt.

Those stories are our history as a family, our legacy as parents, even if sometimes things don’t go exactly to plan and the story contains slammed doors, tears and rage.

#3: Emotions Are King

We used to ask the children to Calm Down (even though that never works) whilst expecting them to grow out of the tantrums and meltdowns. Now we ask ourselves to calm down and have started to explore why we get triggered. As Sarah Naish states in her excellent book The A to Z of Therapeutic Parenting:

keeping [our] cool is the absolute number one most important response to learn

Yesterday Nibbles was upset and he ran into his bed and hid. I calmly and curiously asked Andy what had happened. I escalated things he admitted with a sigh.

Escalation: another word added to our parenting vocabulary. More join all the time: amygdala hijacking, hippocampus, non-violent resistance, PACE, compassion fatigue, blocked trust. All of them shed light on our children and how we can support them.

It is not Bubbles dysregulation or Nibbles oppositional outbursts that matter but how we handle it. And as they say, there is no time like the present to learn.

#4: The Time is Now

When our children first arrived, people told us to treasure these moments as they go so fast. Fast? Everything took an eternity. Mealtimes were Tolkien. A short walk took for.eve. (come on). er. Yet the firsts and lasts soon mount up:

The last bottle warmed to too hot, too cold, just right temperature at bedtime
The last nap (Andy had to wrench that slice of #metime from my grip)
The last bedtime nappy (celebrated with Party Poppers over the bin)
The first time they won an award at school (and I sobbed in assembly)
The first time they both clunked their own seat-belts in (hoorah)

Nibbles still holds my hand on the way to school and I can still carry them on my shoulders for a short time but I know those days are numbered. I am caught in the dichotomy of loving watching them grow, but wanting to keep them with me for longer. Handover feels like yesterday, and a lifetime ago. All I can do, all any of us can do, is to be fully present, to engage in these seconds as they flash by, to savour it all because it will be gone in the tick of a clock.

So when Nibbles asks Would you like me to show you how Robin goes into stealth mode? on his tablet, instead of picking up my phone and checking twitter, I say yes please because he won’t ask for much longer. As Moloko sung “The time is now”

#5: It Doesn’t Matter

I used to fight every battles on every front until I was exhausted. Until I finally realised (with help from Sarah Fisher’s book on Connective Parenting) that lots of things that don’t actually matter, even if the control freak in me likes to pretend they do:

How Bubbles holds a fork, or bites her fingernails (*cringes*), or Nibbles pokes his nostril, or they way they lick icing off an expensive cupcake before declaring they can’t eat another bite. Doesn’t matter.
All SuperMum nonsense, like washing the bedding weekly, homemade scones warm from the oven as the kids come home, ALL ironing (party clothes excepted). Ditto.
A balanced diet (aka meals we used to eat). If they eat any fruit and veg, that’s a win.
A bit of snot on their face as they lean in to kiss you – that does matter, get a tissue!
SATs, their performance versus school year expectations, whether they can spell, their reading level, their ability to sit and listen to boring stuff without fidgeting – so doesn’t matter. School is tiring, so spelling can wait until we have connected and played and had fun together.

There’s very little that truly matters and I am learning to fight fewer battles and save my energy for the ones that really make a difference.

This Matters

What matters is that I love them, to Ikea and back.

What matters is that I will fight for them, wave my flag as a warrior mum, ask for the help, speak to school until I’ve quote every line of their bullying policy, read all the books, attend all the courses, listen to advice until I have the skills to make my family the best it can be.

Today, as Andy walks them to school, I miss sharing that moment with them, the words we share, the warmth of their hand in mine, their goodbye kisses. Yesterday as we walked, Nibbles told me he was feeling fragile and he just wanted to cry when someone shouted or pushed him. What an honour to share his world, his heart with him, to glimpse inside the world of a child.

Nibbles and Bubbles have made life come alive in a whole new way: a technicolor life versus black and white, sound versus silence, glitter versus drab. The only thing I truly miss is a lie-in. And yet I give it up gladly for all the adventures and stories and love we share together.

My children are incredible. And in the reflection of their eyes, through their heart, I sometimes feel incredible too.

Escalation – A Game For All To Play

Leave a Reply

Players – Two: A child who can say “no” and knows how to argue (basic technique is enough, plus a dose of sass or attitude). An adult – works best if the adult is tired, stressed (and/ or poorly), even better if played at the end of one’s tether.
Time – a few minutes to an hour depending on the speed of escalation
Game is over when – either the parent self-regulates (forfeit of game to child), or when either child or adult bursts into tears and sits on the floor with their head in their hands.

This simple game can transform tiny tasks, such as getting dressed or eating a meal, into the sort of story that your family tells for decades to come, that has the adult hanging their head in shame and may even be immortalised on social media channels such as YouTube.

How to Play

Play is generally initiated by the child, however, the game only truly begins when the adult responds by disagreeing to assert control or dominance.

Example: The adult asks the child to do something simple, e.g. brush their teeth, put clothes on, eat breakfast, stop pulling your hair. The child responds by emphatically saying “No” or “Won’t”.

In this manner, the child extends an invitation to the adult to play the game of Escalation, should the adult respond in the appropriate manner.

Possible responses from the adult that indicate that the game has begun:

Yes/ Will – simple, elegant and yet a sure fire invitation to an argument your child will struggle to resist
Oh yes you will (adding “young man” or “young lady” scores 1 for the child as the adult is escalating too quickly, ditto any aggressive stance, hands on hips or finger wagging also scores 1 for the child)

Adult forfeits at this stage if they remain calm, refuse to be drawn into an argument, walks out of the room to calm down or attempts any self-regulatory techniques (breathing, humming, standing still, closing their eyes, listening to a favourite song). If this happens the Escalation Game is Over.

How to Start “Escalation”

The simplest way to start the game is by arguing (oh no, it isn’t). To start, one player disagrees with the other player:

They say No, you say Yes.
They say Yes, you say No.
They say Now, you say Never.
They say Will, you say Won’t.

Clearly you might clarify the argument using additional words or descriptors (such as “No I won’t wear a coat even if it’s snowing“, “Yes you bloody well will, it’s freezing out there and you will catch your death of cold“) but overall impact is one of extended, pointless, going nowhere, exhausting argument.

The argument can continue indefinitely in this manner (minutes or hours depending on the mental will and energy of the players) but is demoted to the lesser skilled Game called Contrariness.

Should anyone agree with the other person (“Yes I know that brushing your teeth is unfair/ you did it already today/ is a pain worse than death“) then the Escalation Game is Over.

Now play has commenced with an introductory argument, play move onto Escalation proper.

How to Play Escalation

Escalation involves verbal and physical ramping up of the situation, until both players are in a clear state of emotional dysregulation, shouting loudly and at its worst/ best spouting all sorts of nonsense (see Advanced Play below).

As a player, your aim is to wrestle control of the situation from the other person and have a clear upper hand. You need to WIN, not just disagree endlessly.

Things you can do to escalate the situation include:

Increasing volume – your aim is to go that little bit louder or shoutier than your opponent at every volley. Do not jump to ear-splitting volume too quickly or you will lose 1 point.
Physical escalation – for adults this includes finger wagging, towering over your opponent in a threatening manner, hands on hips stance. For children this included stomping of feet, wild shaking of arms, angry bobbing of heads.
Hysteria or Melodrama – this involves spitting, head spinning, lying on the ground spinning, lying on the ground stamping arms and legs, rolling of eyes until only the whites show etc. This is Advanced Escalation and is best reserved for trips to busy supermarkets on Saturday lunchtimes.

Bonus points – players are awarded 1 point if a bystander stops to watch, tut or frown. A further 1 point is earned if passersby swerve to avoid you, cross the road or similar (although you may be too involved in play to notice.) 5 points are earned if someone uses their mobile phone to video the Game or a neighbour knocks on the front door to ask if everything is okay.

Your aim here is to be the person who has the last word. 100 points to the person who does.

As an adult, you must never, ever, accept even the slightest responsibility for your part in escalating this situation. It is ALL. THEIR. FAULT. If they hadn’t said no or been oppositional or just done what they were told in the first place, NONE of this would have happened.

If either player fails to get louder, or respond in due time, gives up in sheer exhaustion, or sits down in the middle of Sainsburys for a little cry, they forfeit the game.

Advanced Play

If the game does not resolve in normal play (see above) then play may move onto Advanced Play.

Assuming (and it’s pretty much a given here) that being really loud, argumentative and shouty has not resolved the situation such that your child stops, thinks for a moment (with or without stroking their chin) and then responds “You win Mummy/ Dadda. You’re so right. I don’t know why I just didn’t do it in the first place,” then you may end up in Advanced Play. Even if it’s not on your shopping list.

Here you vainly try to wrestle control back by throwing even more of your parenting weight around (which may be even heftier given all the cake and wine you have been knocking back after days like this).

It’s time to pull out the big guns and start telling them just how you are going to make their life more miserable than this epic row in Asda has already made it. Such that you spout nonsense like:

Wait until I tell your dad/ the vicar/ Nanna/ your teacher/ the dog
That’s IT!! You are banned from your favourite TV show/ tablet/ ipad/ hugging your teddy for the rest of today
As above, but longer duration such as the rest of the weekend/ month/ year/ your lifetime/ until the end of the world as we know it

Since these threats have absolutely no impact whatsoever on your child, who is currently not really listening to you anyway as their amygdala is in charge (as is yours or you wouldn’t really be punishing yourself by taking away the only sane 30 minutes of each day when your child is on their tablet or watching Scooby Doo), things may well go mental at this point.

If you are still in rant mode, then you may even end up in the Annihilation Phase. When you say things like you will hang, drawer and quarter their favourite teddy they were given on the day of their birth/ adoption. Or you will smash their favourite toy/ tablet/ tech into a billion pieces using a coconut. All angry raging nonsense that will only increase your guilt should you not have calmed down in time to avert such a actually-following-through-on-a-ridiculous-threat when you get home.

If you get to this level of escalation, you lose.

In fact, you lost when you started to play this stupid game in the first place. Because

NO-ONE EVER WINS THE GAME OF ESCALATION

Recently I played the game of Escalation in Tescos. I didn’t want to, or mean to, it just sort of happened when I was tired and distracted and just wanted to get home and get something to eat. I was hangry.

I said “We’re going to Tescos” and Nibbles said “No. I am not coming in.” Which was a bit out of character and instead of sitting in the car, calming down and sorting it out before we stepped inside the shop, I made him come out and he made it perfectly clear how little he wanted to be there.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no” he chanted at me, whilst pulling the trolley here, there and nowhere I wanted it to go (grr).
I hissed that he’d better not say “no” again. But he’s too smart to be caught like that.
“Jelly, jelly, jelly, jelly” he taunted instead.
I gritted my teeth, I walked slowly, I tried to engage my brain, but I was fuming inside. I put him in the trolley, until he said “goody” when I quickly took him out again.
Bubbles stroked my arm to calm me down (and offered me an “emergency hug”). She suggested to Nibbles that he had gone “too far now, please be quiet.”
I gradually unravelled in the face of provocation.

Let’s just say that when he threw things at me in the car on the way home, I responded in a way I am not proud of.

It was then that I started to investigate a way of dealing with oppositional behaviour called:

Non Violent Resistance

And I hope to one day write a blog showing how I have effectively used NVR to avoid these escalations that leave me exhausted, guilty and disconnected from my children.

Because I don’t want to play this game anymore.

Get Off The Parenting Naughty Step!

Leave a Reply

It’s the end of a long day, when finally the battles over teeth cleaning (its just two minutes sweetie), hair brushing (I know its tangly, that’s why we need to brush it), getting into bed (you’re thirsty are you? again?), and back into bed (just take off your top if you are hot), and settling down to sleep (yes, I have left the light on in the bathroom, yes your teddies are all lined up in order, yes I have put the cat out) are over and you can settle down, put your feet up, drink you first hot cup of tea (what is it now honey?) that doesn’t go cold, and finish your “To Do” list by reflecting on the day.

Despite all the successes, the getting them dressed and to school/ nursery on time, the not-losing-it in Asda, the mostly empty plates, the mostly happy times, our mind is drawn, like a fly to one of those buzzing blue lights, to an incident. Something that didn’t go exactly to plan and it comes to blight our peace and remind us that we got it wrong.

And we put ourselves firmly on the Parenting Naughty Step.

STOP IT

It is all too easy to find ourselves lacking as parents. Because I guess that you, like me, like every other parent, is not the therapeutic parenting (TP) twin to Dan Hughes and Bruce Perry.

You might have read their books, absorbed the theory and then been a little disappointed that every so often you still f*ck it up. You lose the plot, your buttons get pressed, you are too tired and you focus on correction not connection, or get agitated not animated, or use the F word with them (and it wasn’t “Freddie”).

Welcome to my morning (without the F word). I slept okay and yet something triggered a grump. My kids, having seen the PACE poster drawn large on our wall, and overheard Andy and I encouraging each other, became a new, PACE-informed conscience in my life today

“Remember Mummy” Nibbles said in a patronising tone that is disturbingly similar to my own “Play-fulness”

#Busted

So after drop off, I walked and put myself on a virtual naughty step.

But it’s not just me who does this. Yesterday one of my twitter friends admitted that she was spending “precious me time in a cafe thinking about all the bad parenting choices I’ve made in the last 24hrs.” We tweeted and I think I cheered her up.

You are not alone in the self recrimination. But it’s not useful if it only makes us feel bad. So let’s get off that darn step and change the script.

PLAYFULNESS

This is my favourite approach.

You get to play the “How could this be even WORSE?” game.

Don’t let a tiny slip grab too much limelight. Make it seem like a bit-part, a walk-on extra in a more extravagant melodrama (think screaming match outside the Queen Vic). How? Create in your mind, a much more cringe-worthy situation. Play with the ideas and images, until they become ridiculous, silly, exaggerated, a game of bad parenting one-up-parentship

“You shouted at him? That’s nothing, I shouted so loudly that I knocked a picture off the wall next door, and my neighbour was on the radio for a phone-in about noisy neighbours, and the recording – you can hear me screaming like a banshee – is all over social media and I am so embarrassed and that’s just the start, 5 milliseconds later my mother-in-law rang me up to tell me what a terrible mother I am, then unfriended me on Facebook and I received a telegram uninviting me to the Royal Wedding, and and and we have run out of milk so I can’t even drown my sorrows in a cuppa. And the washing machine is on the blink. And the batteries have run out in the TV remote/ my vibrator.”

Think of the Four Yorkshiremen Sketch.

Or cheer yourself up watching some of the much more viral parenting fails on YouTube – search terms like “why you shouldn’t leave your kids with Sudocream” or “kids and sharpies” and smile that the indelible tattoos, whilst wiping your forehead and thinking “there by the grace of God..”

Now you are feeling a bit lighter about it, try a little..

ACCEPTANCE

Forgive yourself.

You are human after all (soundtrack: Only Human by Rag’n’Bone Man). We all mess up sometimes. Unless you are Donald Trump, when you not only mess up every day, but tweet loudly to millions of people about it too (more playfulness, I hope you noticed).

It is totally normal to lose your cool, to sometimes tell your children what to do instead of asking them, or solve their problem instead of helping them work it out for themselves, to shout at them to “calm down” even though that phrase has never worked, not even once.

It is okay to be tired, to have run out of TP juice, to feel wrung out and run down, or to be firing on all cylinders and still fall into patterns of parenting that we experienced for years from our own parents, who were still doing the best they could given the circumstances.

You are not WonderMum or WonderDad. You are YOU. Perfect in your imperfection. Fallible, human and you are doing AMAZING.

Get real. Yes you messed up, but let’s also accept how fab you are. List at least 3 ways in which you did a good or great or genius parenting job today. Because the chances are, over the day you were a good or great parent 95% of the time, and yet what are you focusing on? The 5%. Yet if your child scored 95% on a test, I bet you would be over the moon.

Not enough? Move onto stage 3:

CURIOSITY

So the sh*t hit the fan today. And you fell off your parenting throne.

WHY?

Let’s get curious, put on our Holmesian deerstalkers and explore what exactly happened:

What was happening just before you lost it? Were you tired/ frustrated/ trying to do too many things at once? Be honest.
What triggered the incident? What specific word, action, inaction? Be precise.
Why did that push your buttons? What belief or identity did that situation challenge in your mind? What rules have you given yourself or your children that were broken? What inflexibility is tripping you up?
What did you want to happen instead? What would need to have been different for that to happen today instead of what did? Re-run the scene as-if you had been brilliant and see how differently you feel and how you might increase the chances of that outcome next time.

Look for how this moment in time is a gift. An opportunity to rewire something in your brain, to address something in your past. What can you learn about how you do things, or what you think about being a parent that you might want to change?

You may want to do this with your bestie or partner, so that they ask you questions to explore what happened and why it mattered and why you are beating yourself up. In every situation we can learn something about ourselves (even if we chose not to).

EMPATHY

The final technique is to talk to yourself with empathy. Be your own bestie. Give yourself a break and be kind to yourself. Gentle. Forgiving.

“I can understand how upset you are, you want to be the best parent in every situation and you feel like you failed today / let your child down/ weren’t the parent you wanted to be.”

Instead of trying to distract yourself from how you are feeling (with wine, chocolates, TV, exercise), lean in. Go deep. Find what lies beneath in YOU.
Breathe. Long and slow. And again. Long and slow.
Close your eyes. Relax. Let go.
Feel with every fibre of your being. Focus on the feeling, because you might find that underneath your initial feeling is something enlightening.

I was upset a few months ago and @mumdrah gave me permission to be sad, to feel it all, to be with that feeling instead of running away from it. And under my sadness at an escalation, I realised I was truly scared about Bubbles’ future. My heart was breaking, worrying that if we didn’t manage to solve it, or improve things, that there would be bleakness ahead.

That changed things for me. It made me step up in a new way. Those tears were a gift.

There Is No Magic Bullet

When we are tired, exhausted, when something has broken, when we run short of energy, funds, fun; it is all too easy to blame ourselves for situations that escalate, that don’t go to plan.

But perhaps we should see those situations as GREAT. Because in each of those failures is the seed for our success. As Edison might once said (it’s hard to be sure, since I wasn’t there)

You didn’t fail. You just found a way to not-parent.

Be playful.
Be accepting
Be curious
Be empathic

Forgive yourself. You are only human.

P.A.C.E. Yourself

2 Replies

P.A.C.E is an acronym that represents an approach to therapeutic parenting, as devised by Dan Hughes and it came to my attention as I searched for a way to help Bubbles. I first dabbled in empathy (see my post Putting Out Fire With Fire).

That led me to read Dan’s book “Attachment Focused Parenting” which opened my eyes to a whole new approach and style of therapeutic parenting.

Bringing Andy Along

The poster started as a way to summarise the ideas from the book and various websites that I had visited. Then it grew from a rough sketch into something more.

And in its creation, I cemented what I knew (which wasn’t much) and added to it, because there is nothing like teaching (in poster form) to test your understanding of an acronym. As I explored P.A.C.E, and as our family struggled with the traditional approach to parenting, the ideas burrowed beneath my skin.

P.A.C.E. expresses four ideas (underscored with LOVE) that Dan (God in the eyes of many struggling adopters) Hughes has discovered over decades of working with families:

Playfulness – being spontaneous, in the moment, using a sing-song storyvoice, learning to live and play in their worlds to defuse tension
Acceptance – telling my children through words and importantly tone that I love and accept them, if not their behaviour, however angry or frustrated or annoyed or hyper they get.
Curiosity – avoiding judgement and being open to discovering what they are feeling and why they feel that way, and being prepared to be influenced by what we hear. We step into their world for a moment, and dive deep to discover their truth.
Empathy – by matching their intensity, tone and pace, by opening our hearts to reflect their feelings, we assure them that we are listening and that we are doing our best to understand. We look to understand them.

Work in Progress

It is a few years since we first encountered P.A.C.E and whilst we try our best, there are times when my tone is less than playful, when I am too exhausted to step into their world, when I am all out of empathy.

But having a reminder (the P.A.C.E. poster) on the kitchen wall, helps to remind us of how we can parent on a good day.

Admitttedly, the other day, my daughter caught my frustrated tone and came out with this verbal reminder:

‘PLAYFUL, Mummy. Remember the P in P.A.C.E…’

The poster can be downloaded to print in A4 for personal use – for a small donation. Larger sizes for schools and for distribution can be purchased to embed therapeutic approaches – just get in touch

Sobbing is Self Care

1 Reply

I grab my coat and move with my back to the rest of the diners, unwilling to draw attention to my movement as I leave the restaurant. I walk into the adjacent garden centre, down the path, past the perennials and shrubs, away from onlookers or the hardier plant-browsers.

I reach the end of the path, towards a cold blue sky, lush green rolling hills, a wintry landscape that is beautiful and Not. Enough.

With two hands, I raise my fur-trimmed hood over my head, burying my face in its cosy warmth. Hiding from the world, from the distress within. Trying to lose myself in a hug from my hood. I feel like a kid lost in the playground, hiding from the bullies, fists over my mouth, scared, alone.

I crumple my face, willing myself to hold it together, but this landscape gives me space, gives me permission to be real, honest, true and tears well up in my eyes and they pour down my face in blotchy welts as my mouth screws up in a ugly crying.

I sob, my shoulders heave, I am crying not quite in public.

Too tired to hold them back anymore…

No One Thing

If you asked me why I was crying, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Not in so many words. There was no single thing that tipped me over. No angry, annoyed or frustrated outburst, no stubborn refusal, nothing deliberate or unkind that I could finger as the tipping point.

Somehow this Sunday, this final day of half-term slid away from me this morning, and my mental plan to go for a long stomp in the glorious sunshine got lost in getting dressed and doing things (I can’t tell you what, I don’t even know) and before I knew it, it was 11am and too late to go out before lunch. So I was already fuming a little as we drove here. Angry that I had been up since 7am and had done nothing.

Not nothing – you know how it is – but nothing to fill my bucket.

When we got here, already a little tense, the children whined a little, wriggled a little. Bubbles didn’t like the books the restaurant had to read – and we (or she) hadn’t bought anything else. She complained about the chicken, then the broccoli. He complained that the roast potato wasn’t crispy. I ate my salmon salad. They ate most of it and didn’t spill their drink.

Yet somehow, something or things chipped away at my happiness bucket until it was empty. Achingly, desperately, hollowly empty.

I had bitten my bottom lip half way through, as they continued to poke their food. I had turned away, tried to distance myself, tried to breathe, to focus on the view, staring at it, hoping the hills would drip cheer into my bucket. Hoping that my obvious unhappiness would change the state of play, or at least just get through it intact.

But it wasn’t to be… And when it all became too much, I slid out of there to cry out sight.

Are You Okay Mummy?

Some minutes later, I hear the patter of their feet, running down the path, growing louder, coming in my direction. My tears are not yet done, but the urgent tidal wave of distress has ebbed a little.

“Are you okay Mummy?” asks Bubbles curiously
“Not really” I answer truthfully
“Oh” she says, disappointed, unclear what to do next
“Let’s go play” she suggests to Nibbles

My shoulders sag a little lower.

There’s A Hole In My Bucket

If my happiness is a bucket of water, there are things that fill the bucket and things that drain it. And its clear to me that I haven’t been filling it fast enough to cope with the holes that riddle the metal and leak drips and streams from it.

Andy comes and gives me a hug and somehow his kindness touches my soul and more tears come out and I sob that I just wanted a nice meal out and why can’t we just enjoy a meal out when I don’t and. and. and have to cook and. and. and the kids play and are kind and. and. and… when did life become so hard?

He doesn’t answer, because there are no answers. Because sometimes all I need is to know that he is here and he cares.

We go for a walk, where I am the sullen reluctant one. Nibbles holds my hand and that slight touch, that connection helps me remember that sometimes my bucket is full and overflowing, even if now is clearly NOT one of those times.

“Is your bucket is full yet?” asks Nibbles
I laugh, a little cynically. “About a quarter” I say, more graciously, knowing it is nearer 10%

Do What Needs To Be Done

There’s a parenting mantra about doing what needs to be done – to feed your kids, change their nappies, get sleep, to get through the day. But we need to ensure that on that list is the things we need to do for US. To fill our buckets. To notice when they are dangerously low.

And if they become empty, to deal with that feeling too.

Sometimes sobbing is the best self-care.

A chance to express how hard parenting can be, a chance to be honest about how strong you are in this moment now, a chance to let go of the pain and let it out.

Because being strong, pretending to have your sh*t together all the time, that’s what can break you.

So go on, have a sob on me.

and then there were four

tales from the land of adoption

Category Archives: Post Adoption

Neglect At Their Core

High-Energy Breathing Games for Regulation

Adoption Myths: They Won’t Remember

What To Write In Letterbox Contact

My Little Pomeranians

Five Lessons in Five Years as a Family

Escalation – A Game For All To Play

Get Off The Parenting Naughty Step!

P.A.C.E. Yourself

Sobbing is Self Care