Just Keep Swimming

Betta fish #3 is still alive, and all is well in the world.

We currently have two fishtanks going in little man's room. The newly constructed fish "bowl" (made out of an extra (and unneeded because Trent doesn't believe in buying flowers) flower vase) in which Captain III is currently residing while the too-high ammonia levels in the filtered fish "tank" stabilize.

Captain I, II and III have taught me a few things about parenting hurt children.

• Toxins are often invisible. "You can't see the ammonia or the nitrates in the water," the fish lady told me. "They're invisible killers. You have to test the water and change it regularly."
• Adoptive and foster parents can't always grasp the trauma their children have faced. Many of our kids have been through stuff that should be confined to horror movies. We know this, and yet it's hard to see, hard to understand. It's often invisible until something - maybe what seems a minor stressor - causes it to erupt in nightmares, rage and grief. 
• You have to treat the toxins, not the symptoms. When Captain I died, our quick fix was to buy Captain II and stick him back in the same fish tank. We didn't know it was toxic! It promptly died, too. We had to treat the fish tank, clean the water, for Captain III to survive. When my child "acts out", my first instinct as a parent is to impose consequences, lectures, rules, rewards. But a child who is acting from a place of fear and grief can't grasp consequences. He doesn't care about rules and rewards. First there has to be connection. Healing. The toxins need to be treated before the behavior can change.
• For us, testing the water and changing it often means regular and inviolable family connection time, regardless of behavior. As maddening as bedtime might be, and as much as I might want to use the loss of bedtime stories and songs as a discipline tactic to "brush your teeth right now or else!" these bedtime snuggles offer my best opportunity to test and change the waters, to remove toxins.
• One of the hardest things about owning fish is keeping the water levels just right for your particular fish, even as fish food and poop mucks it all up. As Ryan North stated: "This is one of the hardest (but most incredible) things about being a foster or adoptive parent. You have to earn back trust you never violated. You have to work to redeem hard places that you never created. You have to heal wounds that you never inflicted."

• We thought our one gallon, filtered fish tank was a great size for our new Betta. It even has a filter! After all, at the pet store those fish live in those little, tiny containers. The fish lady wasn't impressed. "Too big to clean often enough, but too small to create a self-sustaining environment. The smaller the tank, the easier it is for things to get out of whack."
• Bruce Perry, author of The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog,  is one of my favorite researchers/writers on developmental trauma. He has a wealth of knowledge on the impact of trauma on the developing brain. He writes that it is the young brain's amazing plasticity, which makes it possible for children to learn love and language, that also makes it so susceptible to early stress and trauma. Children are a small tank. Early traumatic stress profoundly affects the developing brain, changing its physical structure, making children from hard places much more reactive to life's everyday stressors.
• By the same token, Perry writes, "The more healthy relationships a child has, the more likely he will be able to recover from trauma and thrive. Relationships are the agents of change and the most powerful therapy is human love." Relationships above and beyond the family grow my child's tank, allowing him to create a buffer against stressors. We are so grateful for the relationships that have helped him grow - Nana and Papa and cousins often and always, Grandma, our small group family, his football/basketball coach, his best friend's mom who senses when I'm over it all and takes him for playdates, his kindergarten teacher who is still available for hugs and counsel, all the teachers and friends at school who offer encouragement and support, neighborhood families and playmates - he is blessed by so many caring, tank-expanding relationships.

• It takes time to stabilize. After Captain II "fell asleep" so suddenly, I desperately wanted Captain III to be swimming happily in his tank when Paul returned from school. "I am not processing DEAD FISH right now. What do I need to do, what do I need to put in the tank, to fix it?" I asked the fish lady. She shook her head and tsk'ed at me. "You're gonna need some beneficial bacteria in the tank, but it's gonna take a week or two for that to neutralize the ammonia and adjust the nitrate levels. If you want to do it right, it's gonna take some time, honey."
• In adoption, attachment counselors talk about "family age". A child may be eight years old, chronologically, but if he's only been in the family for 18 months,  he is still at a much younger emotional and developmental age, still feeling young and shaky about separation and independence and in his ability to regulate. Children make amazing gains and strides, they surely do, but it often takes years longer than we think it might. 
• It's been three weeks yesterday since Paul learned about his teacher transition at school. The first week was the worst, when those toxic fears of abandonment and change erupted into rage and grief, stirring up toxic memories. He needed to know that we were safe, that we would care for him no matter what, that we would never leave. He needed to see that we could unpack those early toxic memories and bring them to light, heal them.
• This week the anxiety levels are plummeting as he realizes this new teacher and routine is not that different, not at all scary. We're stabilizing. Now he's testing the new teacher, which is oh, so blessedly "normal" and much easier to manage (at least for me) with apology notes and extra "helps". As Paul said so sagely after he "moved his number" and had to face the consequence: "Sometimes you get grumpy. Then you just need to do the work to cheer up."

Just keep swimming, y'all. Just keep swimming.

 

God Save the Fish

Sam got Paul a fish for his birthday a couple of weeks ago. Normally, I am opposed to bringing any more creatures into this house because with two kids, two dogs, one cat, one husband, two jobs, one ELL refugee tutoring assignment, a preschool Sunday school class, assorted freelance gigs and a book I'm meant to finish someday, I have reached the limit of THINGS I CAN CARE ABOUT. But…

Paul really wanted a "fish of his very own". And he has been going through HARD THINGS the last couple of weeks. Which means he's more easily stressed, frustrated and flat-out mad than is bearable. He tends to take out his stress, frustration and mad on Sam. She's his safest person, apparently. Which she could view in a positive light, right? She doesn't.

So this fish is sort of a connector. Paul loves his fish. And happy feelings about fish bleed into happy feelings about Sam. At least, that's the theory.

Except the stupid fish keeps dying! "Sleeping" may be the word I used when Paul saw him motionless at the bottom of the filter. Just taking a little fishy nap.

You may be reading this as someone whose children I have counseled. In which case we may have discussed the idea of being honest with your children, supporting them with your presence and love while allowing them to face the grief and stress of life. This is important.

Except not this fish. Not right now. Hypocritical perhaps, but I am not adding a dead fish to the traumatic memories we're working through. Everything else may be out of whack, but THE FISH IS JUST SLEEPING!

So we discovered the sleeping fish Friday evening. On Saturday Trent and Paul went to the YMCA while I scurried back to Feeder Supply. Later Saturday afternoon, "Mom! Look! Captain is awake. And his tail is bigger! He grew!"

See, Son. What am I always telling you about the importance of sleep? Sleep and grow.

Sunday evening the fish took another nap. Seriously. I am the killer of fish. So Monday morning I will take the kids to school, finish editing two manuscripts, get ready for my school job, zoom to Feeder Supply for a quick course on HOW TO KEEP A FISH ALIVE THROUGH WINTER, replace Captain II with yet another lookalike, then head to school to help other children who don't live in my house walk through the difficulties of life with honesty and courage.

Water

I am too tired to blog. So much has happened over the course of the last three weeks, I don't even know where to begin:

• Wonderful - The celebration of Jesus' birth; a vacation with family at the beach; a birthday for a super heroic eight year old boy. 
• Difficult - Christmas; being out of routine; the attempt to get home from our family vacation. 
• Traumatic - this week landed us smack in the middle of hard things. While I know there is healing at the end of this setback I don't yet know how God is going to work it out, and I don't have the words. Which is difficult for me, not having the words.

 So it's my husband's turn. Backstory - five months ago our church issued a challenge to step out of our comfort zone. If we were willing, we could accept the challenge and complete one of five tasks. From our time spent in Mexico and Africa, experiencing the real-life difficulty of water scarcity, Trent chose the challenge to drink only water for six months as a way to fast and pray for those around the world who lack clean water. For six months he has given up beer, Diet Coke and sweet tea to drink only tap water. The money he has saved (around $400) will be donated to Marion Medical Mission to install a shallow well in a water-deprived community. At the beginning of this fast he issued a challenge to friends and family - you all drink whatever you want, but if I make it, you commit to donating a well, too. When he ends the fast on February 14th, eleven wells at $400 each will be built and self-sustained in villages in sub-Sahara Africa.

With one month to go, this is Trent's letter to his supporters:

Well....no pun intended there, it's the last month of the "Well Challenge"!  I had one person say to me, "So my reward for listening to you complain about not drinking Diet Coke for the past five months is that I'm going to have to fork over $400?  You should have paid me to listen to your complaining, but hey, the Lord loves a cheerful giver!"

Oddly enough I get to begin this last month with a trip to Las Vegas, where everything is paid for, including the water.  Yummy!  I assume  I can survive since I have made it through holidays, vacations, family vacations, birthdays, New Year's Eve, and an 8 year old's birthday party.  There sure are a lot of reasons to drink more than water.  There will be one celebration at the end, on February 14th, Valentine's Day.  Mostly to thank my beautiful wife for all her support and encouragement.  I would invite all of you as well but that would be a little awkward.  I will say again how much I appreciate the support and prayers from each and every one of you.

I have watched the news about the people in WV where the water supply has been contaminated and thought how inconvenient that would be. But on the other hand, the majority of the world does not have trucks filled with water and bottles of water to help with this need. Together we can do a small part to come to their rescue.

I will send everyone the link to the Marion Medical Mission website in 4 weeks. In 1990 they installed 13 wells. In 2013 they installed 2,999 wells, providing clean drinking water to hundreds of thousands of men, woman and children.  

Trent

ps: I am so proud of him, his heart and his sacrifice.

pps: I did not take the drink-only-water challenge. I am no longer allowed to give up coffee. For the good of all mankind.

Jesus answered, "Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst.  Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life."  John 4: 13-14