the lost dog and cat

Here is another gem.  I was flabbergasted to realize it is an adoption story.  Flabbergasted because a year ago, mention of any number of adoption related terms (forever family, China, adoption, birthmother, etc.)would send NiNi into a full on panic attack.  Now she is writing stories about it. 

 

 

The story spanned several pages, but goes like this (spelling corrected:)

 

"Once upon a time, there was a lost dog and cat in the woods and the dog and cat were hungry.  The cat said lets have mouse tonight.  The dog said no thanks. So they had nothing for dinner.  And they went walking and they saw a castle and they went inside and saw a pretty queen.  And they asked the queen if they can stay and she said yes!  They played dog and cat tag and made "forever home at last" hats.  The queen made a name for the dog and cat.  The dogs name is Lily and the cats name is Fluffy. And they did swimming training and they both passed. And did other fun things.  The end."

She told me I was the queen in the story.  I'm so glad she gets to be my forever girl. 

Mother dreams...

We drove the 2 hour round trip to NiNi's therapist for her last appointment on the books.  For the short term anyway.  We circled up and prayed at the end.  This caused so much gratitude and emotion to well up inside me that I nearly hugged our therapist.  Her treatment ended almost to the day that we embarked on this journey a year ago.  Except a year ago we had a different therapist.  One who worked on "parental attachment techniques" while the parents sat down the hall reading a National Geographic magazine.  Seemed a little counter-intuitive to me too.  And then we found Rick.  Was really quite miraculous the way that we found him (and I don't throw that word around a lot).  But NiNi is not "healed."  We understand her about 150% better than we did a year ago.  We know how to manage her behavior most of them time. But she is not healed.  Still, Chris and I unanimously agree that going to therapy (and in the process radically changing the way we parent) was one of the best decisions we've ever made. And I am super grateful for a few individuals (mom and mother-in-law included) whose support quite literally made this year bearable. But changing the way we parent has also been one of the loneliest decisions.  Everyone's an expert when it comes to parenting advice, and we've heard input that has spanned the gamut. Some of it extremely helpful and some of it not so much.  I think that most people (ourselves included) seem to operate under the assumption that once a traumatized child is in a loving home for a period of time, that somehow the hurts just go away. Even those in the adoption community want so badly to believe this.  Don't we all want to believe that the love we shower on our child will change them, melt them, soothe them.  But somehow it did not work that way for us (and I don't think we are alone in that).  Because you can't fill up a love tank until you figure out how to pry the lid off. And in some cases kids don't show signs of old trauma wounds and grief until their brains are mature enough to process them.  It's called delayed grief and it's all over the child psychology literature.  Now we operate under the assumption that a whole lot of our kids' behavior is likely related the their  trauma.  You would have a hard time convincing me that severe emotional and physical neglect for the first 18 months of a baby's life (when their brains are developing at hyper-speed) does not have lasting effects on a child.  Let alone effects that last more than a year or two.  People do not have bad hearts.  I believe they love us and our kids very much.   And don't we all tend to give advice from our own world view, based on what worked for us.  But still we hear it..."You'll spoil that baby!"  "That one's gonna need medication for sure!"  "She's just too shy"  Strangely, all advice I might have dolled out, back when all I had was a well adjusted biological child. Going against the grain to do what you feel is best for your child still takes a certain amount of courage (and there are mothers much more courageous than I.) I should have a label for "sleep disturbance"on this blog becuase I have written that many posts about the fact that Ethan does not sleep.  For reasons we will probably never know, sleeping and night time was/is a very scary time. Heart racing, sweating, blood curdling scream time. We decided to deal with this by, well, meeting his need for comfort and security. At first he would sleep only against my body. Gradually he has become more secure. Some of the time he now falls asleep in his own bed while we sit in a chair nearby.  I will say that after nearly a year of co-sleeping (in some form or another) we hit a tiny break through. Today as I was putting him down for a nap, he said to me, "I not scared mama." I still tear up at the significace of this. Wow.  Need-meeting really does produce a less "needy," more secure kid.  I am not saying we have a corner on parenting adopted children. Far from it. We still throw our hands up just as much as the next person.  And, please, still offer us advice that is sensitive to our kids' histories. I think that more this post is about making a decision to not parent out of fear. A tall order. What if they never get into college?  Never have a satisfying career?  Never marry?   But I've realized that, more than scholarships and soccer stars, I want them to be "relationship" people.  This is my new and improved "mother's dream" for them.  That they would feel compassion (we are just now seeing this develop with NiNi and she is almost 7 years old), feel safe with another human being and that safety lead to vulnerability, connect with their father and I and ultimately with God, enjoy the people in their "present" without constantly reliving their past, delight in delighting others.  A life that is void of those things is a very scary proposition. So yeah, I guess "spoiled" is a consequence we are willing to accept.  Having a kid who doesn't know how to receive or give love is not.  Just feeling hopeful today that we are headed in the right direction.

Ethan update

Lots to report on the little man!  First off, he is finally growing.  Don't have the official numbers because the doctor cut us loose from the monthly weight checks, but all I know is that is pants are getting too short and I can't see his ribs as well:)  He still drinks formula 3 times/day but more importantly he has discovered a love of eating.  He comes home from preschool everyday famished.  I have to bring a snack in the car to tide him over for the 4 minute trip home otherwise he will scream (and I do mean scream) "I hungry" the entire way.  Some days he can't seem to get enough and we are happy to keep serving up as much as he wants.  He is doing great in the developmental preschool.  He gets speech twice a week there and they also work on attention, social and cognitive skills there.  He can count to 10 and each week I am amazed at the animals he can label (like "whale" and "hippo").  The teacher reports that he has some trouble sharing (shocker) but that he is getting better and better with attending to tasks at a table or sitting in circle time.  Hard to believe that almost exactly one year ago we were told that he had microcephaly with possible mental retardation and a genetic syndrome.  Not that any of those things would have been the end of the world.  But we are amazed at God's faithfulness and that for all intents and purposes Ethan will grow to be a typical little boy.  Our biggest challenge at home is still the impulsivity and attention problems.  Growing taller also means that he can reach things on the counter tops and even climb onto the counters, window sills, bookcases, etc.  You can imagine that everyday we do not make a trip to the ER is a good day.  Between 3pm-6pm every day (a time that I now refer to as the "witching hour") he is completely off the carts.  Throwing food and toys, dumping over drinks, pulling things off the counter.  Right now I am sitting in his room typing this on the laptop and every single toy and picture frame has been pushed off  the shelves.  Every single toy bin is overturned.  My house literally looks like a tornado hit on most days.  And not a lot of gourmet vegan meals these days.  In fact any evening that I don't have to order take out is a good evening.  Very grateful for the Whole Foods around the corner which carries vegetarian and vegan convenience foods (Even though they are heart-attack expensive).  It's hard to determine how much of his behavior is ADHD and how much is RAD (reactive attachment disorder) since the symptoms for both are very similar.  Our therapist seems to believe it is the latter.  I think it will become more clear as he gets older but we are using many of the same techniques that we use with NiNi, even beginning to "wear" him for a few hours each day.  He still has alot of sleep problems so we often don't get a break during the day when most kids nap. (Seems like when we try to nap him, he has an even harder time going down at night.)  When we moved into the new house we broke down and got a king-sized bed.  We figured since he was in it every night anyway, we might as well have some space to spread out.  We try to get him to at least start out in his own bed (which is an hour long endeavor) and then he makes his way into our bed the first time he wakes.  I always heard that kids will sleep when they are tired enough.....until I met Ethan.  He breaks the mold.  Gets maybe 10 hours/night on a good night.  And that is not a solid 10 hours...wakes 1-3 times during the night.  And really never ever "crashes."  Our most valuable parenting lesson these days is adapt, adapt, adapt!  So that is what we are doing!  And in spite of the challenges, Ethan is a total delight.  I call him my little peacemaker.  When anyone walks into a room he wants to make sure that everyone has noticed or greeted them.  The other day we were at my friends house when her husband came home from work. I was chatting with my friend and her husband was looking through the mail, getting a drink, etc.  Ethan walked over to him, took him by the hand, and led him over to his wife.  And then said something like "Say hi" or "Give her a kiss."  Such a sensitive kid this one.  Bet the ladies will go crazy over that someday:)

                                   Fun with a gun...seemed like a handy place to hang a holster

Mmmm...food

...and more food

Ethan writing his "numbers."  Somehow they all very closely resemble zero.

Every time Chris sits down to watch a game, Ethan runs to grab his jersey:)

Ethan and dad at the science museum.  Dad also made imprints of other body parts which shall remain nameless.



Yes, I'm going to have a bad back...but he likes it and it keeps him calm for 30 minutes or so! 



Big boy bed

 

Meagan was snapping random pictures with my phone, and happened to capture this moment.  I had to laugh when I saw it.  Darn attachment therapy...it's working.  Of course I am joking.  While the therapy has revolutionized our parenting and given us new-found intimacy with our kids, it is exhausting.  This is pretty much the norm now...one kid on my hip and another one clinging to some other part of my body!  And the oldest needing to talk about algebra or who doesn't want to be her friend anymore at school.  I feel like I have to constantly remind myself that this labor-intensive time will not go on forever.   Right now NiNi and Ethan are just now realizing that having a mom is a really great thing and there is no way they want to lose that (or even let me out of their sight at times.)  But they will become more well adjusted.  And then, as my friend with college students tells me, you become tired emotionally.  Always something to worry about.  Are they choosing the right career path, the right mate, the right priorities.  This being a mom thing...it never really does get easy.  So I might as well shore up my lower back muscles, pare down my social calendar, and enjoy the ride.  It will be worth it in the end!

Connected

Can't really think of a better word to describe the changes we are seeing with NiNi.  When I think back to our first few months together the changes seem even more profound.  NiNi has always avoided eye contact.  When we first adopted her, she often used her arm to shield her eyes when people tried to look at her. For the past 5 years, when she has looked at us, she's not really looking.  I used to call it "exotic" or "pensive" or "dreamy" or just simply "the look."  It was like she was looking through me or with a gaze that was just about 10 degrees off.   Now we know it was just her way of "going somewhere else."  I did a quick search of some old pictures which illustrate the point perfectly (it took me less than 5 minutes to find these which tells you how many there were to choose from).

With my sister about 6 months post adoption

Very newly adopted.  This was her look almost 24 hours/day for a good 2 weeks

2 years post adoption.  She's just never quite "in the moment"

About 1.5 years post adoption

Last November.  Here she is a little less subtle...just covering her eyes with a piece of paper

This had become a very common look for her in pictures.  In fact I would say that in many of the pictures taken over the past 6 months she is grinning so hard her eyes are closed. 

I can't even tell you how much she has changed in the past 9 weeks.  I think we finally "get" her and she knows it.  And as a result she can finally relax.  I am sure we still have a ways to go, but I feel like I have my little girl, possibly for the first time.  Instead of silently waking up in the morning and busying herself in her room for hours, she sleepily finds her way to human contact soon after her feet hit the floor.  Connected.  Instead of lying about the riduculously obvious, she at times will come clean all on her own accord.  Connected.  Instead of keeping me near but always at arm's length, she has figured out that mom's lap is one of the best places on earth to be.  Connected.  In many ways we are discovering eachother for the first time.  She plays with my hair, smells my skin, and gives a steady stream of kisses and hugs (this is all new behavior for her).  She enjoys being carried on my hip, much the way a toddler does.  I enjoy it too, just wish my back were a little younger and a little stronger!   I love the picture at the top of this post.  She is completely engaged and genuinely enjoying the attention and our relationship.  There are still rough days but those are becoming fewer... and most importantly, I am getting glimpses of a happy, playful 6 year old girl who loves her momma.  And that is exactly where we want to be!

Progress...

Lots to write about, but no time to blog. I did however want to post some of NiNi's artwork.  Here is a picture she drew several weeks ago...it is a tornado and people are either flying around in the air or stuck on top of a tall building.  She told me she is the tiny person at the very top.  Even though she has great fine motor skills, I had become very accustomed to seeing drawings that were a mass of scribbles, or people with the faces scribbled out.

Here is another self portrait she did in class from earlier in the school year.  This is her shirt and pants.  Those are bow-ties all over her clothing.  But notice something is missing?  She told me, "I asked the teacher if it would be ok to draw myself without a face and she said that was fine."

And now...for the piece de resistance.  This is a picture she brought home from school today.  I teared up a little when I saw it.   This is the first time she has ever drawn herself with brown skin.  And she is smiling. Not faceless, not flying around in a tornado.  Oh, and the other person in the picture (who was drawn with peach skin I might add) is her friend from recess (she has only recently started talking about "friends at school").

Call it what you will, but I call it progress:)

Trauma brain

last day of the 2-week intensive...whew!

This started out as a really long email to a very dear friend and fellow adoptive parent, but somehow morphed into this post. We just finished the intensive portion of our attachment therapy (4hrs/day for 10 days and 2 hour round trip each day) Was pretty insane trying to arrange work, school and childcare schedules to do it, not to mention actually financing it (think entire year of psycho-therapy crammed into 2 weeks = $$$) The payment was due Monday and we had it covered but just barely. Borrowed from Paul to pay Peter kind of thing. That Friday Chris got his largest monetary bonus ever...from a commission that was supposed to "go away" last month. Love how God worked that out!

NiNi and Mr. Rick

So, I have a little bit of experience treating people who've had a brain injury when I did adult rehab several years ago. These are the guys who are likely to give you a pat on the behind, because that seems like a perfectly appropriate thing to do to someone you appreciate. Or the folks who tackle a problem from the same (wrong) angle, over and over again, even though it is unsuccessful. A certain part of their brain is running amuck. It's called our frontal lobes and they're partly responsible for impulse control, memory, attention and problem solving to name a few. I happen to think that the neuroscience of the brain and it's ability to form new connections, and heal itself in any capacity after an injury is fascinating. Mention "trauma brain" and I am all ears. I just didn't realize that it would come to describe my adopted children.

Pictures from NiNi's feelings board

But it makes perfect sense. Scientists have been able to study the brain MRI's of children who have experienced early emotional trauma and their brains are biologically different. This is not just psycho-babble, people, but scientific evidence! What they are finding is that these kids have brains that are basically "on fire." They lack (or can't use efficiently) the stress hormone cortisol which helps to regulate their emotions (my non-technical understanding of it). Without the ability to control stress and anxiety, they live in that "flight or fight" state that we learned about in Psych 101. Those lovely and rational frontal lobes are not calling the shots the way they should be. Melt-downs, poor cause and effect thinking, inattentiveness, inability to read social cues...any of this sound familiar adoptive parents?

The good news is we can help to heal and regulate those little brains! That's right, lil' ole us! Mom and dad! Not strangers, not objects and not by themselves. Just like an infant who is soothed best in the arms of mom. So that is what we are working hard at. When we see the first signs of disregulation (becoming fidgety, becoming withdrawn, hyperactivity that is beyond normal kid speed, etc) she gets a "time in" with one of us! We hold her, sing to her, and tell her she's special (while she is screaming) until we see that she's ok. She resisted it intensely at first. First time-in took 1 hour! Now each time gets shorter and shorter. And she is more affectionate than ever. Sometimes she crawls into my lap all on her own and says "I need some loving time!" I am not even kidding that this stuff has totally changed the way we parent. It is probably the most difficult, labor intensive thing I have ever done (keep in mind we have not one but TWO sweet kiddos who get disregulated quite a bit, sometimes simultaneously).   Think about it, "time-out" or "go to your room" is uber-convenient for parents. Kid is not screaming in my ear, eventually gets over it/stops crying and (bonus) I get to finish up dinner in the meantime. But is "working it out on your own" really what we want to continue to teach her? Isn't that what she did day in and day out before we met her? No. What she needs most is to learn to accept our love and care. And to trust that we know exactly what she needs. All the time. And that she does not have to take care of herself anymore. Not emotionally, or physically. That no amount of hitting, biting or yelling will make me go away.

One frustrating truth of adoption is that it is marketed as something for people who "love kids" or want to "help a child."  And we think, "Hey, that's easy!  I want to love kids too!"  But as adoptive parents we often don't have the tools to help heal these very real and gaping wounds.  Or, worse, we feel guilty and alone because "all the other families we know seem to be doing fine.  So what's wrong with me?"  Well, we're not all doing "fine" whatever that means.  We all need help and support.

So here's to all of us getting to a more consistent state of ....

Blessed

It's 11:44pm.   My husband and children are sound asleep and I am eating an entire bag of kettle cooked potato chips in perfect blissful silence.  This post has been a long time in coming.  And honestly I have been so busy that I haven't had time to think much about how I feel. Have I mentioned before my burning desire to simplify my life?  Well, it hasn't happened.  Work is crazy....reports, clients coming in and out, conferences.  Chris has traveled some.  Not a ton, but 3 days here, 4 days there, enough for me to feel the burden of being sole caregiver for awhile.  We have been in a holding pattern with NiNi, waiting for the therapy appointment...not quite sure what to do so, at times, just letting chaos reign.  And Ethan continues to baffle us with his hyper-drive speed.  I know he's a boy, but I am around toddler boys quite a bit, and his "activeness"(for lack of a better word) is unique.  He recently qualified for the developmental preschool (preschool for special needs kids) and I had some strange emotions surface.  All this time I have been telling myself that only his language skills are delayed, but, in reality, he likely has some other stuff going on too. And most days keeping up with the house, laundry, cooking and dishes is just a losing battle.  But we have nothing if we don't have perspective!  My children do not have a terminal disease, we are not homeless, jobless, or friendless.  I try to have a little Bible study with Meagan each morning and the other day it was Matthew 5.  It begins with the Beatitudes...Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted, etc.   Meagan looked incredulous and said, "What does that mean?"  I tried to sound confident and came up with some semi-lame explanation, but later asked myself the same question.  Do I really understand what Jesus is talking about?  It does seem rather counter-intuitive.  Are the poor really better off?  Those who grieve, are they really closer to God?  But when I stop and think of the tremendous truths God is revealing, things come into clearer focus.  And I can even pen a few beatitudes of my own.  Ok, not nearly as wise and poetic as the words of Jesus, but you get the idea.

Blessed are you when life is a mess...

Ethan still struggles to really "play" with toys, preferring instead to just tear through the house...pulling dishes out of the dishwasher, DVD's out of the cabinet, playing the "dump" game with baskets of toys, pulling clothes out of drawers, etc.  Cleaning up after him is like shoveling snow while it's still snowing.  The other day I proposed a breakfast picnic...on the floor because last night's dinner dishes were still on the table and lunch dishes were still in the sink.  Lots of people say, "oh my house is such a mess."  But this is the real deal.  And it bothers me.  House in order = life in order, right?  Last weekend was Easter and I volunteered to have dinner at my house (after just coming back from Cincinnati and then a full work week)  I started cooking and cleaning on Friday night and 24 hours later, the house was not clean.  Oh, we were cleaning, but Ethan was faster.  As I was frantically trying to finish up before church (not enjoying my kids, not watching them with their Easter baskets, not playing with them) it hit me.  People will still love me and likely have a good time whether my house is clean or not!  Let them embrace the mess!  It was quite liberating.  So we had Easter.  With Cheerios on the carpet (my nephew commenting, "Wow that's a lot of Cheerios" right before got down on his knees and picked them up himself), a large pile of junk mail in the corner, and no pretty place settings.  It's a little humbling that I cannot do it all.  But that is the blessing... my heart can be perfectly at rest even when my ducks are not in row, or even all in the same pond.

Blessed are you when your kids are emotionally needy...

There.  I said it.  It sounds a little harsh but I don't mean it that way.  Aren't we all incredibly needy?  We need words of affirmation, we need affection (but don't smother me now), we need "me" time, we need "we" time, we need adventure, and the list goes on and on.  Our parenting philosophy with Meagan was that she would fit nicely into our already established routine.  Sort of like a piece of furniture.  And amazingly she did.  She slept when we wanted her to sleep, ate when we wanted her to eat, played quietly, and looked cute for our friends.  We mused to ourselves, "I don't know what's wrong with everyone else, but we have this parenting thing nailed!"  Let's just say over the past 6 years we have felt less and less confident.  At times I feel resentful.  Why can't they just fall in line.  Without techniques, without costly expert advice, without all the heaviness.  But I look at mine and NiNi's relationship today and I can't believe what I almost missed.  I almost missed getting to know her.  Her deepest fears (and what calms them), what makes her feel loved, how her brain works, her sense of humor.  My kids are exquisitely complex and fascinating creatures.  Two of them had whole separate lives before they met me.  It is irresponsible and just plain sad if I don't spend the time and energy to know them completely, instead of just figuring out how to fit them into my life.  And I know our relationship is richer as a result.

I'll stop before this post turns into an essay, but next week begins our 2 week attachment training.  Somehow I think there will be a part II to this topic...

I came across this re-make of the Bob Dylan song "Make you feel my love".   Now I like me some Bob Dylan, but I must admit this version by Adele is really quite beautiful (listen to it here).  I wish that NiNi would let me sing her a lullaby (a decent singing voice would be nice too) because I would sing this one in her ear every night.  The lyrics are below.


When the rain is blowing in your face and the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love. 

When the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one there to dry your tears,
I could hold you for a million years to make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet, but I would never do you wrong 
I've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry I'd go black and blue, I'd go crawling down the avenue
No there's nothing that I wouldn't do to make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rolling sea and on the highway of regret
Though winds of change are throwing wild and free, you ain't seen nothing like me yet

I could make you happy make your dreams come true, nothing that I wouldn't do
go to the ends of the earth for you to make you feel my love

L-O-V-E

How can it be that I am nearly 40 years old, having been quite religious for half of those years, yet still have not gotten this unconditional love thing down.  Lately the parenting challenges have come at such rapid fire that I barely have time to come up for air.  Ethan's medical stuff and NiNi's visits to the "talk doctor" all cost money that we don't have.  Now this post is not about our insufficient bank account because, strangely enough, I have great faith that it will work out.  What concerns me more than money is my insufficient "love tank".  NiNi is on a little bit of a destructive bent these days...mostly just tearing up or breaking small things...but still sending a clear message that "I am angry and if I can't hurt you then I'll hurt your stuff." Someone gave me an early Christmas present.  A light-up Santa snow globe.  Probably cost about 10 bucks but a very sweet thought nonetheless.  For some reason NiNi was very interested in it from the moment she saw it.  She kept getting it out of the box and sneaking away to play with it even though I asked her not to.  The next thing I knew she had pulled the power cord out of the bottom so that it no longer worked.  Now, mind you, I had no serious affection for that snow globe, but when she broke it, I snapped.  Some kind of childish rage welled up in me and I started spewing verbage of an 8 year old:  "All you do is break my stuff!"  "I'm going to break something of yours!" and so on.  It was not pretty.  This morning I was reminded that becoming an acceptable parent is an almost always painful process of having the selfishness pummeled, twisted and squeezed out of you.  I remember some of those definitive moments of "de-selfish-ing."  Up all night, 5th night in a row, with the baby.  Anniversary get-away cancelled because of sick kids.  The pre-teen is more than a little embarrassed to be seen in public with you.  Moments when we want to utter those 3 little words, WHAT ABOUT ME?  And I don't even have teenagers yet!  Navigating the waters of attachment disorder is becoming another one of those defining moments for me and lately I feel like I have the battle scars to prove it.   Learning to love my children regardless of their desire or ability to to please me, obey me, give me affection, regulate their own emotions or make me me look good. I love the Message translation of 1 Cor 13

Love never gives up
Love cares more for others than for self
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have
Love doesn't force itself on others
Isn't always "me first"
Doesn't fly off the handle
Doesn't keep score
Puts up with anything
Always looks for the best

Never looks back....But keeps going to the end

Old habits die hard

Seems like I have been sharing a lot of deep thoughts on adoption lately. I'm not usually so heavy, but for some reason I feel like my perspective has changed with this newest addition...one newly adopted child and one who is finally old enough to give us tiny glimpses into what she is thinking and feeling. I try to be mindful of not blogging about things that, in the future, the kids could feel violate their privacy in any way. I suppose this post may be pushing the envelope a little. I felt like I was somewhat prepared for the emotional issues my kids may have before we embarked on adoption, but I am realizing that I did not really come to grips with the fact that these issues may last well beyond the initial adjustment period. Intellectually I knew it, but as with all things, out of sight, out of mind. With NiNi, these issues are very much back in sight. She has always had some anxiety when it comes to food. When we first brought her home, she hoarded food, dug food out of the trash and generally ate each meal like it may be her last...not uncommon behavior for internationally adopted children. She also had more of the physical symptoms of malnutrition...brittle hair, boils on her body, abnormal labs, etc. In the first 6 months she was home, she gained a pound a month and in no time looked as plump and healthy as any other 2-year-old little girl. I really believed that the food woes were behind us. When she was about 3, she saw a picture of herself in the orphanage and freaked out. She started ripping up the picture, then proceeded to pull several other similar pictures out of the album and rip them as well (which I allowed her to do because I had digital copies of them). She was even able to share with me some sketchy pre-adoption memories. Mind you, she was 16 months old when we adopted her. It is almost unbelievable to me that she could have any memories at this age, but she clearly did. As she got older we realized that she was the kind of kid that needed to eat often, which we attributed to low blood sugar. Recently we have noticed a dramatic increase in negative behavior...mainly tantrums (the 30-45 minute, inconsolable, full-body, kicking, screaming, thrashing around until you fall asleep variety). It did not occur to me until I was describing this to a friend that 90% of these occurred when she was hungry. Sometimes we were busy running around and be late on lunch, or she would sleep in past her usual breakfast time and wake up ravenous, or she'd want a mid-day snack and I did not immediately produce one. I mean, my other kids have thrown fits, but these are in a league of their own and her reaction not at all in proportion to the "unjustice" done to her, if you know what I mean. I'm becoming increasingly convinced that her brain is hardwired differently...that she associates the feeling of hunger with her experiences in the orphanage. Maybe part of her still believes she may starve and this produces some kind of primal survival response. Hogwash? Maybe, but the tantrums have been reduced by more than half since we've begun operating under this assumption. Recently we started allowing her to keep snacks in her bedroom or in her pocket, having breakfast on the table BEFORE she wakes up in the morning, and when she says, "I'm hungry" we try to take it very seriously. The funny thing is, after all the drama, she sometimes does not even eat the food, or only nibbles on it. I think it's just comforting for her to know it's available. If I could reason with her, I would say, "Have we ever let you go without food? Don't we take good care of you? Don't you know how much we love you?" But this is deep stuff, and it has made me more vigilant with Ethan. For example, is he just naturally super-charming, or is this a skill he learned to curry favor with the nannies. I find myself asking the question, "What is he really telling me?" more and more. I think we owe that to our adopted children. I do believe that love heals all wounds, but the healing process may take an entire lifetime.