Finding my Feet

Last weekend, I had the opportunity to go to Knoxville to spend the weekend in a More to Life training re-grounding myself. It has been a rough few weeks with one of the kids and I needed time to recommit to my purpose in parenting. 

I appreciate that wherever I am, I get to benefit from the wisdom and experience of those around me. Having some distance allows me to see with my heart what I was struggling (and failing) to see with my brain. Mostly I see how blessed I am.

All I ever wanted to be was a mom. Have I said that lately? It's true. I planned it from the moment I could make plans. Mom and teacher. Teacher and mom. That was THE plan. It took me a good long time to get to both of them but I did eventually get to both, in spades. And then I was blessed with these five beautiful, sweet-hearted children. They are truly, each of them very kind, loving, generous and good. They all love me, which is AMAZING, and I am so very grateful to have them. 

Other adoptive parents will understand. There is a weird experience we have in which people say to us, "You did a good thing, adopting these kids" (or something of that nature), usually in reference to foster kids. Know this. It was never that way. The big secret is: we all went into for ourselves. We came to adoption because it was how we got to be parents. It was for US. And if you know much about adoption you know, grief and pain is a part of the process, especially for the adopted person. It's an extremely hard road. It is really never a clear path for most adopted people and can often remain unresolved forever. It's so very challenging, if not devastating. So to have someone say we did something that was in some way "good," is awkward and really hard to know what to do with. And even more so when we are struggling in our parental role.

But I digress. Knoxville happened. I went in knowing I wanted to handle some surprises of the past couple weeks that I hadn't really processed. I wanted a way forward that was both proactive and loving, as opposed to reactive and defensive. I unearthed that out there. Among the truths I uncovered were these simple ones: 

My purpose as a parent is to love.  

I can count on Life to deliver the lessons. 

Yep you heard that right. My purpose is to love! No more long lectures are needed! I can count on Life to deliver the lessons. I know that's true because I've had plenty delivered to me! 

A friend of mine said it well last weekend. He said,: "I'm laying down the drama of the teaching parent. My new parenting style is Love First". Every day this man is going to pray for an open and loving heart and every night, he is going to ask himself: How did I show love and acceptance to my children today? 

It's beautiful, isn't it? 

I can hear you doubting right now. "All this love stuff sounds too pie in the sky", you say. Too hippy dippy. Well, let me tell you, when you have walked on this dusty road I've been on for the past 13 years with these last 3 precious ones, there are some diamonds that get uncovered in the trenches and one of
those gems is this:

I, Dreena Tischler, am most definitely not in charge of anyone

                                                                        (except myself).

That's right. My part is to love, because in the end, that's actually all I can do. We've done the teaching  . . . at this point, the choosing is up to them. They have to get their own life-shocks and their own learning; and we hope it is not all the hard way. And apparently, some of it is.

We're all still learning, right?  

So that's me, right here, right now. I've found my feet again and it's a good place for me to be in. I am grateful.

PS - I've had queries about our middle child. He's entered his rehab program and is in good spirits. He's in the beginning phases and we are hopeful. Send your arrows of love through the ether! Right now he can't have cards or visitors aside from "Dad" and me, but maybe one day. They are in a lock down situation. Actually, if you want to wish him well, you can email me or send me a card and I can save it until he can have it. That could work. Or I can read it to him over the phone. He gets calls. So if you want to help, there's a way. Bless you!

Seeing the World Through "Me-Colored" Glasses

 Yesterday I had a heartbreaking moment with Tink. A friend and I were talking about cats and how we loved our cats. I said that I had done the impossible for me, that I actually loved this particular cat so much that it would be my last cat. Our friend agreed. She too had an extraordinarily loveable cat, "a member of the family. She's not replaceable," our friend remarked. "How could we just get another cat?"

At that point, Tink looked up from her drawing and said, "Yeah, it would be like if you had a kid and gave it up for adoption and then just went and had some more kids."

The conversation got interrupted right then by the door or the dogs but oh, how that stabbed my heart! What a profound and honest statement. I got a chance to talk to her about it later but I know I can't ever really understand that pain of being "given away" and then replaced, which is how she sees it. 

Grief is inherent in adoption. Any book on adoption reiterates this point over and over but it is impossible to truly understand. And I know that I am only seeing "dimly" -- like through scratched sunglasses -- or in a not-funhouse mirror -- that I have no true idea what they are going through.

When your kids first come to you, they grieve for their caregivers and their original families. That part is tough, very tough. It breaks your heart. Kids, especially little ones, are resilient and crave connection, so that stage is eclipsed by everyday activities and the business of building a life together. They are grieving, for sure, but they carry on. 

For many adopted persons, it's the age of self awareness where the grief really begins to set in. As if middle school and all it encompasses were not enough to deal with, children also become much more aware of the differences between themselves and their adoptive families and also begin to deal with the pain of losing their original families.

It's such a personal and private loss; made even more difficult when you're worried about breaking your adoptive parents hearts. Even though we always speak openly with our kids about being adopted and the circumstances surrounding our family, none of that prepares them for the pain of coming to terms with it on a heart level. 

The grief of adoption is like any other loss; it lays dormant for a while and then, when least expected, hits you like a brick to the face. Tinker -- in that moment -- listening to us talking about cats for crying out loud and her seeing herself as having been given away -- no, actually thrown away -- and then replaced. Is it any wonder this child craves love and attention? 

Remember being an adolescent? It was so awful! I'm too tall, too short; too skinny, too fat; too dark too fair, too curly too straight. Whatever I am, is never enough. 40 years later with so much of my childhood a blur, those pains remain sharp and clear in my memory. Add to that a belief that you were literally unwanted  by the person who gave you life. Can you imagine the pain?

Image by creatifrankenstein from Pixabay 

PLEASE NOTE: I am NOT saying that it is true that these were her birth mother's intentions at all. I do not in any way think that. My thoughts, however, are not relevant here. What I'm talking about is a child's core belief. And this core belief was incidentally exposed in this little conversation, thankfully, so now can be cared for and treated kindly. 

It reminds me once again that I always have to be mindful of the lenses through which children view their world. We treat the "wounds" we see, but the ones that need the most care and attention are the ones we can't see. I have to find a way to look through the "me colored" glasses my kids are wearing to have the compassion and wisdom to get them the help they need. 

AFTERWORD: I spoke to The Blitz about this later, to see how he felt about it. He said, "I understand it wasn't voluntary. It was her only choice and the other kids . . . they were to fill the hole in her heart." 

 

The BIG, Bad THING - Suicide

• 
  

Some of my earliest memories center around a family tragedy that was only whispered about in my family for years. We had a tacit agreement to keep it under wraps, like most "unpleasantries" in families. Now, 60 years later, I hope we know better.

My grandfather killed himself when I was 4 years old. He made an attempt when we were visiting, one which I thwarted. He succeeded as soon as we left town. Two days later we were back for the burial.

We know now that depression can have a strong genetic tie, and that suicide, in particular, has a tendency to be contagious, especially when not spoken about. And it can seem very hard to talk about. 

We blame ourselves. We blame each other. We think if we talk about it, it might make someone uncomfortable or it give them ideas. This is NOT TRUE. They already have the idea. In order to stem the tide of suicide, we have to talk about it. 

Depression is the leading cause of suicide. It is is the 2nd leading cause of death in teens. 4 times as many males take their lives as females. In my family, as far as I know, 5 people died by suicide, 4 were male. There is suicide risk in both sides of my gene pool. A history of trauma and/or PTSD increases the risk of suicide exponentially.

I am writing this  after one of my kids recently tried to take their life for the third time. My greatest fear is that the next time, they'll succeed. This time, it was really close.

How do you know if someone is considering suicide? Here are some warning signs: (source)

• The recent suicide, or death by other means, of a friend or relative.
• Preoccupation with themes of death or expressing suicidal thoughts.
• Depression, conduct disorder and problems with adjustment such as substance abuse, particularly when two or more of these are present.
• Giving away prized possessions
• Major changes in sleep patterns - too much or too little.
• Withdrawal from friends/ family or other major behavioral changes.
• Dropping out of group activities.
• Lack of interest in the future.

This year at school, we had a very good training on suicide. It was about plain speaking. If you think someone is considering suicide, you MUST ASK THEM. 

• Are you considering suicide?
• Do you have a plan?
• Do you have a time frame?
• Have you talked to someone?
• Can we call 988 (the Suicide Lifeline) together? 

Importantly, DON'T leave the person alone. 

Thanks for reading. Please share. We don't talk about this enough. 

It's Been a Minute

It's Been a Minute

The last couple of years have been a little . . .well . . . let's say nutty. I'll spare you the details and start with now. I've decided to start updating the blog because I think it might be helpful for other people with adopted kids or maybe even just other people with teens. 

I do not have all the answers. I'm fairly certain that often I don't have ANY answers. What I have noticed though, is that knowing we're not alone and that what we're going through, if not "normal" is at least not "uncommon," is very helpful. So here I am, warts and all. It won't be pretty but it will be true.

That said, there may be times that for moral or legal reasons, I can't tell the whole story. You'll just have to trust that details left out are out because they are (1) protecting kids or (2) they can't be disclosed at this time. 

The "Littles" will all have birthdays in the next two months and will be 16, 15, and 14.  I can't believe it. A couple days ago we celebrated 13 years of Tischler life together. Wow. I think about the tiny strangers that came to our house that blustery February day and honestly can't imagine (and barely remember) life without them.  

I thought I'd be overwhelmed with child management but that was not it. I was overwhelmed with laundry and still am! I worried I would lose them but they stuck to me like glue. The real challenge was nights. I don't think I slept the first 2 months they were here; The Captain was so traumatized that it took him literally hours to fall asleep and the Blitz also had serious sleeping issues. Oh, I long for those easy days of toddler life! 

These  days, we have teen problems. Do you remember being a teen?  I do, and it's been a minute!  It was AWFUL! I felt ugly and unloved, pretty much all the time. And guess what? That's what it's like being a teen. Not much has changed. Except, now they have 1000 times more images a day to compare themselves to and strangers on the internet to help them feel bad about themselves. 

These three are all very cute and talented. I hope one day they will truly know it. They aren't at a place to take my word for it, of course. The Captain made the JV Baseball team, a pretty big deal. Tink is in the community youth choir and The Blitz is on his middle  school Theater UIL team and his MS Cheer Squad as the Mascot. 

It's not all roses though. There have been very serious, thorny problems too. School problems. Legal problems. Family problems. Moral problems. And it has not been at all smooth sailing. 

That's why I think I need to restart the blog: to remind you and me that we can all get through it. In short . . . to say that even though there are the problems --- all those lumpy problems -- at the end of the day, inside these thorny, horny (yes, I said it), awkward teens, there are also those sweet little kids just trying to be loved. 

So, here I am, back again. Let's wander up this rocky road together. Cheers.