I have before me a top ten list written by Princess from school.
10. I love my mom because she reads me chapter books.
9. I love my mom because she helps me clean.
8. I love my mom because she makes me laugh by being crasy.
7. I love my mom because she taught me how to draw.
6. I love my mom to hear my mom sing crazi-song.
5. I love my mom because she finds time to play with me.
4. I know my mom cares because she hlep me.
3. I know my mom is smart because she dose good work.
2. I love my mom because she works so hard at cooking.
1. I love my mom because she's the best me ever!
Monday, May 14, 2012
Sunday, May 13, 2012
mother's day
mother's day 2012
Not too ambitious. Scraping together coupons, the plan was to meet grandma halfway, more or less, between houses, in Temecula, at Souplantation. The goal was to leave our house around 8 or so.
The plan hit a snag when my wife went to her makeup kit, something she does maybe 3 or 4 times a year. Every piece was gone or opened or missing. The only obvious culprit was Princess, who loves playing with makeup. Obviously I had grown lax in keeping our bedroom door locked while I was busy with Little Sister or some other distraction. The wife said we couldn't go until she got her makup back.
I went looking through the layers of clothes and such in Princess's floor, and found, instead of makeup, something else disturbing -- a picture scrapbook partially finished of Princess and her biological mother. Princess had gotten it and took some of it apart.
This greatly upsets my Wife, who prides herself on making and keeping valuable things, and as she puts it would simply like some things that had been put aside and taken care of stay put aside and taken care of. Not rummaged through Tasmanian devil style.
"Why does she have to make everything so hard, so hurtful" she asks. Why does princess have to be so mean.
I feel guilty, thinking I should have looked out more. But on the other hand, how vigilant can I be 24/7? I have other things to get done; I can't spend 100 percent of my time watching over Princess to make sure she doesn't get into our stuff.
We eventually got out of the house, and made our way to Temecula. Grandma and her husband had been waiting an hour by the time we got there, but we had a good time at the restaurant.
Came home, wife lay down in bed, Princess retired to her room. Everytime I went to check on her, she soon demanded that I leave.
Then came evening; time to visit the biological mom at the local jail, something Princess had been doing for the past several weeks, and which she seems to have been enjoying. Only this time she insisted she did not want to go. Wouldn't give a particular reason, didn't say she never wanted to visit again, just repeated that today she did not want to go.
My wife went on her own. Princess right now is jumping on the trampoline in the back yard with Little Sister. Before that she was doing gymnastics pullups in her bedroom closet.
Not too ambitious. Scraping together coupons, the plan was to meet grandma halfway, more or less, between houses, in Temecula, at Souplantation. The goal was to leave our house around 8 or so.
The plan hit a snag when my wife went to her makeup kit, something she does maybe 3 or 4 times a year. Every piece was gone or opened or missing. The only obvious culprit was Princess, who loves playing with makeup. Obviously I had grown lax in keeping our bedroom door locked while I was busy with Little Sister or some other distraction. The wife said we couldn't go until she got her makup back.
I went looking through the layers of clothes and such in Princess's floor, and found, instead of makeup, something else disturbing -- a picture scrapbook partially finished of Princess and her biological mother. Princess had gotten it and took some of it apart.
This greatly upsets my Wife, who prides herself on making and keeping valuable things, and as she puts it would simply like some things that had been put aside and taken care of stay put aside and taken care of. Not rummaged through Tasmanian devil style.
"Why does she have to make everything so hard, so hurtful" she asks. Why does princess have to be so mean.
I feel guilty, thinking I should have looked out more. But on the other hand, how vigilant can I be 24/7? I have other things to get done; I can't spend 100 percent of my time watching over Princess to make sure she doesn't get into our stuff.
We eventually got out of the house, and made our way to Temecula. Grandma and her husband had been waiting an hour by the time we got there, but we had a good time at the restaurant.
Came home, wife lay down in bed, Princess retired to her room. Everytime I went to check on her, she soon demanded that I leave.
Then came evening; time to visit the biological mom at the local jail, something Princess had been doing for the past several weeks, and which she seems to have been enjoying. Only this time she insisted she did not want to go. Wouldn't give a particular reason, didn't say she never wanted to visit again, just repeated that today she did not want to go.
My wife went on her own. Princess right now is jumping on the trampoline in the back yard with Little Sister. Before that she was doing gymnastics pullups in her bedroom closet.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
notes from a therapy session, part 2
Princess and I went to see our therapist "Kay" yesterday. The first part of the session was games; then Princess was sent to the other room to draw while the two of us talked.
She asked how the past week had went. I mentioned Princess biting me one time, and biting my wife another time.
After some discussion of what caused tantrums (my recollection; usually involved me or wife shouting "no" or "stop that" , she said many seemed related to "power struggles."
Yes, Captain Obvious.
How do I cope? What do I do.....How do I engage? What times are the best for engaging her.
And the truth, which I don't know if I fully expressed there, is that I coped by not engaging.....off to her room, where she could ignore me and I could ignore her, at least for the time being. I told her about the incident described at the end of this post, for example. I just wanted her to stop, to go away.
One thing she said struck me...I mentioned that Princess is often defiant..."make me" comments...."you're stupid; I'm not listening to you" nyah nyah
These, she said, were (could be) coping defense mechanisms....and as such, actually evidence that Princess does have a conscience, a sense of right and wrong. The defense mechanisms act to prevent her from experienceing the unpleasant feelings of guilt and shame she might otherwise experience. Sassing back at me, in this view, can be seen as a good thing, a sign of progress.
I really hope that is true, considering the alternative.
Anyways, my assignments for the next few days are
She asked how the past week had went. I mentioned Princess biting me one time, and biting my wife another time.
After some discussion of what caused tantrums (my recollection; usually involved me or wife shouting "no" or "stop that" , she said many seemed related to "power struggles."
Yes, Captain Obvious.
How do I cope? What do I do.....How do I engage? What times are the best for engaging her.
And the truth, which I don't know if I fully expressed there, is that I coped by not engaging.....off to her room, where she could ignore me and I could ignore her, at least for the time being. I told her about the incident described at the end of this post, for example. I just wanted her to stop, to go away.
One thing she said struck me...I mentioned that Princess is often defiant..."make me" comments...."you're stupid; I'm not listening to you" nyah nyah
These, she said, were (could be) coping defense mechanisms....and as such, actually evidence that Princess does have a conscience, a sense of right and wrong. The defense mechanisms act to prevent her from experienceing the unpleasant feelings of guilt and shame she might otherwise experience. Sassing back at me, in this view, can be seen as a good thing, a sign of progress.
I really hope that is true, considering the alternative.
Anyways, my assignments for the next few days are
- making a routine of "hurt checks" with Princess, and yes, she said when I asked, they could be reciprocal
- observing her closely, see what sets her off
- attaining a sense of calm and detachment....don't engage in her only when I am swept up with emotions of anger and frustration
notes from a therapy session, part 1
So yesterday Princess and I went to a mental health therapist for our first session together (she had previously seen Princess, myself, and my wife separately. What happened? What did I learn?
The therapist, who I will call "Kay" had us both sitting on the floor and starting us off with some games. First with a "hurts check" or something. She told me she had previously told Princess that the office was a "no hurt zone." That applied to physical and verbal hurts. She gave me little tube of ointmennt (aquafor) and had me look at Princess's hands, arms, and legs to see if I could find any little "hurts" I could rub a little ointment on. I did. Princess played along. I was wondering if Princess would get to return the favor, and noticed that there was still brusing on my hand where she bit me some days before, but no, after I was done, we went on to the next game.
The next game, or activity, as making handprints/footprints on a piece of black paper. The technique was to put baby lotion on Princess's hands and feet, then sprinkle white baby powder over the paper with the hands and then feet affixed. It was supposed to mark a "beginning" for this particular journey for Princess, or something like that.
The weird thing in retrospect was that I was afraid the thing would be lost or destroyed if I took it home, so I asked the therapist if it could stay at the office, at least for the time being. Don't know if she gets that request often.
Then we played a bubble game. I, the dad, would give directions to princess on how to pop a bubble; the therapist would blow the bubbles, and game on! Princess remembered a time when she was enclosed by a bubble -- something that I had vague memories of once she mentioned it. It was at a community fair or something.
Anyways, I would give directions. Pop the bubbles with your elbows. With your toes. By clapping your hands. With your nose! With your mouth! (or, maybe not a good idea, therapist indicates, soapy water and all). Not sure of the purpose of that one either.
Next, I was given a roll of yellow paper and told to wrap Princess up like a mummy, starting at the feet. As I proceeded , the therapist would ask Princess questions about the body parts I was wrapping. What are your feet for? What our you looks for. What is your belly for?
"Belly bumping" says Princess.
When we came to the hands, Princess says hands are for "poking," I don't recall if first she said this unprompted or as a "yes" answer to "are fingers for poking" but the therapist did ask again to make sure that is what Princess said, before saying something to the effect that poking is not really the best use of one's hand.
After I got Princess completely wrapped (except for nose and mouth), Kay said the next step was to, on the count of three, break loose and escape the mummy wrapping. Princess did that in about 1.2 seconds.
Then she sent Princess out to draw some pictures, and we talked.
(continued on next post)
The therapist, who I will call "Kay" had us both sitting on the floor and starting us off with some games. First with a "hurts check" or something. She told me she had previously told Princess that the office was a "no hurt zone." That applied to physical and verbal hurts. She gave me little tube of ointmennt (aquafor) and had me look at Princess's hands, arms, and legs to see if I could find any little "hurts" I could rub a little ointment on. I did. Princess played along. I was wondering if Princess would get to return the favor, and noticed that there was still brusing on my hand where she bit me some days before, but no, after I was done, we went on to the next game.
The next game, or activity, as making handprints/footprints on a piece of black paper. The technique was to put baby lotion on Princess's hands and feet, then sprinkle white baby powder over the paper with the hands and then feet affixed. It was supposed to mark a "beginning" for this particular journey for Princess, or something like that.
The weird thing in retrospect was that I was afraid the thing would be lost or destroyed if I took it home, so I asked the therapist if it could stay at the office, at least for the time being. Don't know if she gets that request often.
Then we played a bubble game. I, the dad, would give directions to princess on how to pop a bubble; the therapist would blow the bubbles, and game on! Princess remembered a time when she was enclosed by a bubble -- something that I had vague memories of once she mentioned it. It was at a community fair or something.
Anyways, I would give directions. Pop the bubbles with your elbows. With your toes. By clapping your hands. With your nose! With your mouth! (or, maybe not a good idea, therapist indicates, soapy water and all). Not sure of the purpose of that one either.
Next, I was given a roll of yellow paper and told to wrap Princess up like a mummy, starting at the feet. As I proceeded , the therapist would ask Princess questions about the body parts I was wrapping. What are your feet for? What our you looks for. What is your belly for?
"Belly bumping" says Princess.
When we came to the hands, Princess says hands are for "poking," I don't recall if first she said this unprompted or as a "yes" answer to "are fingers for poking" but the therapist did ask again to make sure that is what Princess said, before saying something to the effect that poking is not really the best use of one's hand.
After I got Princess completely wrapped (except for nose and mouth), Kay said the next step was to, on the count of three, break loose and escape the mummy wrapping. Princess did that in about 1.2 seconds.
Then she sent Princess out to draw some pictures, and we talked.
(continued on next post)
Sunday, May 6, 2012
prison, drugs, cartwheels, and more
52 minutues before another day is done, and trying to write a few noteworthy things before then.....
went to church and taught sunday school by myself, only four students. No princess or little sister helping. soothing
Little sister wanted to go swimming, but princess did not. So after picking up big brother from boy scout camping, went to the Y. I used to do this with princess, but the memories fade fast....now it seems confirmed how much little sister wants to spend time with me, but Princess does not....
Drove home, swapped girls (poor big brother), took Princess to the local jail where her biomom is being held. Met her (adoptive) dad, a defense lawyer; we chatted a bit during the mandatory wait time.
Two scary stories of children of his friends/coworkers. One with a straight-a daughter who got into heroin. Personality change, much more defiant, lip piercing, blowup at mom when she investigated Facebook activity. Another one with a daughter who got busted for cocaine (or her boyfriend did), went through a 9 month rough patch, before sucessfully landing at UC Berkeley.
Then some sweet moments with Princess. She went outside. I went out to watch her. She was trying cartwheels and handstands on the grass. Try a running cartwheel I suggest. She smiles, tries. She is wearing denim shorts, black boots, a blue button sweater I just got from a church friend whose girls had outgrown their clothes. She is wearing a band of some sort around her head. She looks like a girl from the 1960s. She does some cartwheels, lands on her behind, laughs....
The three of us trade off conversations with her mom on the other side of the prison window. She is doing well; has work detail for her unit (cleaning things up). I tell her princess keeps her room in a state of chaos, probably on purpose; she says she was "like a whirlwind" in keeping her room messy from age 3-13, then around that age, something clicked, and she kept her room neater.
(of course, around that age a whole different set of problems was facing her too)
Afterwards princess asks for my phone to call Little Sister's mother (she has the same biodad, different mother). I am surprised to find the number in my phone, but she calls. "I love you." she says.
At home she brushes her little sister's hair after a bath, and proffers a verbal offer of pajamas that are too small for her. Both positive developments....
But then, when my back is turned, she does something to little sister that makes her cry. I, frustrated at several things (including having to make her rice and beans for a late supper) yell at her to go to bed. She throws a hairbrush at me.
And so it goes.
went to church and taught sunday school by myself, only four students. No princess or little sister helping. soothing
Little sister wanted to go swimming, but princess did not. So after picking up big brother from boy scout camping, went to the Y. I used to do this with princess, but the memories fade fast....now it seems confirmed how much little sister wants to spend time with me, but Princess does not....
Drove home, swapped girls (poor big brother), took Princess to the local jail where her biomom is being held. Met her (adoptive) dad, a defense lawyer; we chatted a bit during the mandatory wait time.
Two scary stories of children of his friends/coworkers. One with a straight-a daughter who got into heroin. Personality change, much more defiant, lip piercing, blowup at mom when she investigated Facebook activity. Another one with a daughter who got busted for cocaine (or her boyfriend did), went through a 9 month rough patch, before sucessfully landing at UC Berkeley.
Then some sweet moments with Princess. She went outside. I went out to watch her. She was trying cartwheels and handstands on the grass. Try a running cartwheel I suggest. She smiles, tries. She is wearing denim shorts, black boots, a blue button sweater I just got from a church friend whose girls had outgrown their clothes. She is wearing a band of some sort around her head. She looks like a girl from the 1960s. She does some cartwheels, lands on her behind, laughs....
The three of us trade off conversations with her mom on the other side of the prison window. She is doing well; has work detail for her unit (cleaning things up). I tell her princess keeps her room in a state of chaos, probably on purpose; she says she was "like a whirlwind" in keeping her room messy from age 3-13, then around that age, something clicked, and she kept her room neater.
(of course, around that age a whole different set of problems was facing her too)
Afterwards princess asks for my phone to call Little Sister's mother (she has the same biodad, different mother). I am surprised to find the number in my phone, but she calls. "I love you." she says.
At home she brushes her little sister's hair after a bath, and proffers a verbal offer of pajamas that are too small for her. Both positive developments....
But then, when my back is turned, she does something to little sister that makes her cry. I, frustrated at several things (including having to make her rice and beans for a late supper) yell at her to go to bed. She throws a hairbrush at me.
And so it goes.
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