Tinker Turns the Page on Another Year

 I turned around twice and this baby is 15 years old! It seems like a heartbeat. Have I even slept? Being a middle child myself, I appreciate that middle children are firecrackers. It's what keeps life interesting! And life with Tinker is definitely always fun and interesting.  (When your birthday is on the last week of school and your mom's a teacher, the news takes a minute to post!)

We just finished another season of softball and she was fortunate again to be drafted onto a team with another great coach who was super patient and taught her a lot. She is in JROTC and it's her favorite thing about high school. She has always  loved school but this is her absolute best thing ever. It's exercise, it's competition, you don't have to be quiet or sit much, there aren't too many girls; it's made for her! 

Don't let your brother cut your hair

Tink's big goal right now is to earn the right to take Driver's Ed next summer. We set up a program so that she can objectively earn it and I promise you, like everything she sets her mind to, she will get there. I'll do a post on what we came up with, program-wise, in a few days.

The girl is learning to cook. It's a miracle. So far, she's made shells and homemade marinara sauce and then, last night, Mediterranean Couscous Bowls. She's doing great!

Scroll down for a couple more snaps of our girl through the years. 

Pasta shells w/ Marinara

 

Mediterranean Couscous Bowls

 

The BIG, Bad THING - Suicide

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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. 

The Way Through

 So I guess if you read my last two posts, you are probably thinking, this is not at all helpful! In retrospect, I should have pre-written these three posts so I could have released them close together. Hindsight is great and that is not my life these days so here we are! But here is the third post -- the yes, but how, post -- and sorry it was not more closely on the heels of It's Been a Minute and The Sound of Bells. I should have warned you that my life is a fast-moving train and sometime that train does not stop very long! Suffice it to say there have been a couple of emergencies -- both at home and work -- in the past two weeks. All is well now, and I'm back!

Here is the thing about forming your family through adoption and foster care: it's a surprise bag. I know, I know, you don't know what's inside that gene package of genetic children either, but you have a pretty good idea of the outside forces that acted upon that child both inside and outside the womb. What happens in adoption is that these babies come to us with trauma they don't know about themselves, can't know about and can't talk about. We don't know about it, can't know about it, but it's our job to help them survive it and overcome it. 

First, though, we have to get ourselves through. For that, you need a plan, a system, a blueprint or a map -- a way through.

In the real crisis moments, the crisis is what carries you through, but in the days afterward, you need a tribe. I started building my Mama tribe in my early years of parenting and homeschooling so a lot of my tribe are the mamas who homeschooled with me when the Bigs were little plus some Adoptive parents I met in the early days. The tribe has grown over the years and now includes other teachers, grandmas, and other foster-to-adopt parents too. 

Our families are our go-to support system, for sure but life is long and you will need more! If your children are young, heed my warning: start branching out now! No family has arms big enough to hold you through all your child's life. You may need your own Mama tribe at some point. 

Find a creative outlet of some sort. Remember before our phones were our cameras and Insta was our family album? Back in the "olden days" I scrapbooked . . . for HOURS. It was an amazing creative outlet. Now I knit. Equally time consuming and expensive but less to show for it. I cook, all the time. I read recipes and cookbooks and learn how to make ridiculous things no one here would eat. I spend entire summer days making things no one SHOULD eat. It's pure bliss. 

Professional help will, at times, be required. Both for the child and for you. From time to time, people are going to hand you list of various kinds of counselors that work with adopted children. Hold onto those lists. You may not need them now but one day they will come in handy. Find counselors that specialize in adoption. If your child(ren) came from foster care, find someone who deals with trauma. This can be VERY HARD. Don't give up. Keep asking. Call that number on the insurance card, ask the counselor at your child's school, ask your pediatrician and ask other parents. Someone knows someone . . . you might just have to get lucky to find them. There is a shortage of people working with these kids but your persistence will pay off. Do not give up. 

 Don't forget to deal with your own trauma. Get help for yourself. You need someone whose only objective is to help you. You or your spouse's job, may even have something called EAP, Employee Assistance Program, which gives 8 free counseling sessions every year. Take advantage of it --that's what it's there for. Again, you may have to be a little persistent, but don't give up. 

Ask the school for help. Trust me, if you are having this much trouble with your child at home, the school is also having some mighty struggles. Those calls you are getting are only 10% of what is actually happening at school. Ask the school what they think is going on with your child. What do they recommend? They will be tactful but they will have some ideas. Teachers and administrators see a lot of kids. They probably have a good guess as to what is going on and a suggestion for next steps. They may recommend you ask your pediatrician for a certain kind of testing or they may ask you if the school can do some kind of testing. Personally, I'd consider it. At least you can rule out some things. 

Ask your pediatrician if medication will help. If you are still reading this long post, you need help. No one wants their child to need medicine but you do want your child to succeed. You can decide to try it. Try it for a semester of school and see if your child is more successful at school and home and then decide if you want to continue. Keep notes for a few days on all that is going on so when you go to the doctor you don't freeze up and forget to say some things. Sometimes, I hand them the notes so I don't have to say all the things in front of the kids, since the kids don't really like it. You can do that too. 

Call your local MHMR for more resources. You need a case manager. We did not have good case management in the past, but we have it now and it's amazing. They offer a lot. 2 of our 3 youngest are in case management and it does make a difference. Some insurance programs ALSO offer case management services. Superior Medicaid does, for instance,  and suddenly, we have so much more from them than we had before! 

And if you have done all this and you are still struggling, I feel you. I have been where you are. Try to remember, it's a season. It's not all day, every day. It will get better. Do this: start over at the top of the list. Rebuild your tribe. Find respite care. Somehow, some way, you have GOT to have a break. I'm so sorry for what you are going through. Just get this this hour, this moment and know, you will be okay. When you lay down tonight, take deep breaths, pat yourself on the heart, and tell yourself, "well done, you did your best."

It will get better. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon. Don't give up. You have this. Thank you for the difference you making. 

The Sound of Bells

 Last night I had a very confusing dream that melded many parts of my life together, as dreams do, but in the end, sent me a messenger. I really appreciated it. Sometimes I need the clairvoyant wake up call. 

On first waking, I'm vulnerable to memories that are more subconscious than most. I love that state of semi-awake-ness because it's fertile ground for self-awareness. Anyway, this morning I had a flashback to 12 or even 13 years ago when the "Littles" really were little. I was waiting for our appointment with the attachment therapist with one of them when I ran into a couple I was acquainted with from homeschooling circles with their adopted-from-foster-care children.

This family was a lot further along the parenting journey than we were. At that time, our oldest was 13 and their oldest was 15. They had 4 kids, I think, stretched along a big spectrum of age, but all siblings. I think the two older were teens and the two younger were middle elementary. They were dealing with a lot of vexing issues with these kids: sexual issues, legal issues, theft, hoarding, toileting, social problems, emotional issues, behavior, learning differences. They were a little jaded on that particular day, but frank and open. 

What I remember most was hearing them talk about all they'd been through in the preceding couple of years and thinking, "How do they cope with all this?" Meanwhile, it my own head, warning bells rang. I knew full well that little boy sitting NEXT to me, who wouldn't sit on my lap if I PAID him, who'd never been attached to anyone in his three years of life, was in a bad way. Clang, clang, clang. 

I did what any sane person would do. I tried to shut up those bells. I leaned over to that beautiful boy, touched him on the nose, and started singing our "together" song: "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, what a special boy you are!" Clang, clang, clang. 

I lost touch with that family because my new life as Mother-to-five didn't allow much time with the group in which our paths had crossed initially. I could use their expertise today! 

Fast forward 13 years, we are in the throes of our 2nd juvenile legal issue. I sat in the Juvenile Justice Center a few weeks ago unable to feel upset. Some poor mom beside me was bawling her eyes out and I'm just cool as a cucumber. A few years before, I'd been in her shoes but the second time around, it's just not as upsetting. Weirdly, what upset me later, was that we KNEW the probation supervisor when she came out to speak to us. NO one wants to be the parent who already knows the person in charge of working with juveniles who have committed crimes. Clang, clang, clang.

I was driving home, unreasonably mad at my child, and silent as a crypt. Finally, child asks, "why are you mad at me?"  I told them. "I'm mad because I don't want to BE the parent who knows the probation officer."  It wasn't reasonable. I admitted it and let it go. It was a tough road though because this kid was supposed to go on the spring break cruise with me and now can't leave the county for six months. Clunk.

One of the kids has just been identified with ED, (Emotional Disturbance) and by the end of the year, will be placed in Focus Classes in high school. I'm relieved, I think they need the help. They get in so much trouble for their impulsive words and their remorse later is real. If we can help them learn to curb this, it may actually be life-changing for them. One of the other kids' case managers mentioned that testing for that second child. I'm wondering. 

Just know, back when we first started adoption and again when we got into foster care, we read the books. We attended the classes. We knew the statistics. We did the attachment training. Our kids have have more counseling at their young age than most entire families have in a lifetime. We just somehow still didn't think it would happen to OUR kids because we believed -- as all adoptive parents must -- that love is enough.  

And it is enough. Love is enough . . enough to get you through the next day or the next crisis or the next celebration. 

The Captain just turned 16! He worked hard to bring his grades up with only a little help from us and now he's eligible for the HS baseball and plays in his first official game this week! So there you go.

Come on, ring those bells!

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. 

Morning Play LIst, aka Morning Rituals

Morning Play List, aka Morning Rituals

It's 7:45 AM and I'm sitting alone at the kitchen table, forcing myself to eat a little breakfast. Today is our first "trial run" of our morning routine for school. We run our morning and evening routines the two weeks of summer camp that proceed school so we have a chance to fix our timings, add in essential missing elements, etcetera.

As I'm eating, Taylor Swift's "Never Grow Up" comes on. It's been on the playlist since the "Bigs" were the only kids in the house. And I'm still trying to preserve those last vestiges of innocence in the "littles." It's all just mind boggling.

I had so much fun updating my morning playlist recently, mostly inspired by Apple TV's Ted Lasso and Trying. My gosh, they have the best soundtracks. I recently added The Rolling Stones, "She's a Rainbow", and Sia's "Unstoppable" among others. Someone grumbled when I started up the playlist this morning, but it does actually help us all and a couple of songs later, sure enough there was a song he'd added to the mix. 

The playlist was born when the girls were school aged. We'd just returned home from a road trip and we had some road trip rituals: We'd eat breakfast, pack up the trailer, nestle the kids in the car, hook up, take off, and plug in a certain CD the girls loved to sing along to, which happened to be, Wee Sing America. We'd hit the first couple of songs in order and then had our favorites we'd skip around to before choosing an audio book or gazing out the window. 

When we got home, it occurred to me, maybe that type of ritual would help our mornings. We were homeschooling at the time and the girls had a hard time getting started some days because their mama had a lack of structure. We now know their mama has ADHD, but that's another story! I never mentioned the morning playlist, really just kind of did it for me, but started playing it every morning in the kitchen. Before long, our mornings smoothed themselves out. 

It's not magic, but works like it. We hear it, and subliminally, we move to the starting line. We take our marks. We get ready. We move through our routines. Please note, I am part of the "we." It helps me focus. If I'm up early, I don't usually turn on the playlist until my alarm goes off. I'm working or knitting or focused on a project. I'm not yet in "ready mode." The playlist turns it all on.

15 years later, the playlist has taken on a life of its own. Once someone mentioned they'd heard a particular song too much, so I took it off. A couple years later, someone mentioned the tone was "preachy. Ok. I do take feedback. It has morphed over time and sometimes a song, like the one from Sia just mentioned, comes up that just must be added. I don't worry about the length of the list. When we leave the kitchen, I turn it off. Sometimes we hear 15 songs and sometimes we hear 3, so it doesn't matter. On weekends, I start on track 6 or 8 just for fun. No one's ever noticed. Once, when my dad was dying and I'd had a pretty bumpy day at work, I played it while I cooked supper and no one even noticed; it was weirdly settling. 

Do you have playlists that help your family through its routines? If so, I'd love to hear about them them! Just for grins, I'll share our current version below, but know, it may not even be current by the time you read this! Cheers!

"Holy as a Day is Spent" (Carrie Newcomer)

"Souls like Wheels" (Avett Brothers)

"Never Grow Up" (Taylor Swift)

"Island Song" (Adventure Time)

"She's a Rainbow" (Rolling Stones)

"Unstoppable" (Sia)

"All About That Bass (Meaghan Trainor)

"Rise Up" (Andra Day)

"This Is Me" (Keala Settle)

"Beautiful" (Christina Aguilera)

"We are the Champions" (Queen)

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow" (Iz)

A Few Words on Love and Loss

 A Few Words on Love and Loss

At our Huntley family reunion this year, I spent more time than I intended just looking at my loved ones having fun. I must be getting old! I can vividly recall watching my nephews (in-law) joking together, the teens, singing at the top of their lungs, and my son making the baby laugh. 

Yet, in every family gathering there is a note of sadness, and we don't always acknowledge it. I meant to mention it out loud, but I did not. Missing from this gathering were my nephew, Keath, my Great-niece, Karissa, and my Dad, Les. Dad is our most recent loss, just nine months ago. He loved family gatherings and every aspect of big family life. 

The second-eldest of 10, chaos was the bread and butter of their daily life. Once when all 5 of my kids were at home and my folks were in town for Thanksgiving, I apologized for the general VOLUME in our home, which was considerable. Dad just smiled and said, "I love it." In his last decades of life, really after his retirement, Dad was a peach. He literally got sweeter by the week. He loved everyone and enjoyed everything. His quiet reserve slipped away and he became a
toe-tapping, hand clapping music lover. He laughed out loud. When he met my great-niece just before her first birthday, he gushed proudly, "She's absolutely perfect." He thanked people for the smallest kindness. He was only grumpy when ill or injured. And after 61 years of marriage, my mom misses him desperately.

Now for the part no one wants me to say. My Dad was no saint. In fact, in earlier years, he hurt one member of our family so badly, I don't see that wound healing. He was strict and exacting. He was unforgiving. He was "always right" and gave no quarter. It is probably true to say that he was blessed to have those 2 decades after he retired to win us over. 

We eulogize the best parts of the person when they die but we also still have to come to terms with the other parts. In polite society, we don't say unpleasant things about the dead. Many deaths are like this; it's our humanity showing.

Our family has experienced at least 3 suicides, but as a group, we can't/don't talk about it. No one wants to be the one to raise the topic. The generation below me has done better handling the truth. They love and commemorate the dead on various occasions. They are more outspoken then we are. 

I do talk to my own kids about suicide, especially when they are teens. It's such a vulnerable time. I want them to know what it was like for us to walk behind that coffin and see a young person whose life was cut short. I want them to know what they cannot know at this age: death is permanent. I tell them, "if you can't tell me, tell someone, and keep telling until someone helps you." I press cards into their hands with toll free "teen help" hotlines and I hope with all my heart it's enough. 

I am digging deep to see why I did not bring up our dead loved ones at the family reunion. I did put up a small memorial but never pointed it out. What is that about? I think of little Karissa, who never made it out of the neo-natal ward, and kick myself. Why didn't  I talk about her?  And why do I feel so awkward when my mom says she misses Dad? She's supposed to, right? Yet I have no training in how to respond to these comments.  I remember when my dear sister-in-law was in the ICU and I was lying on the floor of the waiting room, shaking uncontrollably. I was literally shaken to the core, for perhaps the first time in my life. 

I wonder if part of the depression that often comes with grief is from not wanting to deal with the "unresolved" parts of the relationship. In other cultures and parts of the world, mourners rip their clothing or wail uncontrollably. I can't help but think as grievers, we need more of that. Yes, grief takes time; above all, time. I believe it also takes truth-telling, as hard as it is. 

What would it be like if we told the truth? She was bossy, uncoordinated and often awkward. She screwed up a lot. She made 5 million mistakes, most with love, some out of sheer stubbornness. She was impulsive and that hurt a lot more people than she intended, but at least she could cook!