Adjusting

It’s been almost eight months since I’ve updated this blog. I read the last entry and am amazed at the journey since then.
I can tell you that the girls have had a hard time, a healing time, sadness and growth. For the first three months of living with us, they missed their mom. The next three months, we began to have breakthroughs and learned it was safe to communicate and be a team.
The girls did end up lashing out about not getting to see their mom; they wrote on their walls and dresser. They covered the dresser with a sheet and the walls with paper. The paper fell down. We wrote back to them on the dresser, telling them how much we love them. Next, I modeled cleaning off my writing with various cleaning products, not giving up until it came off. Their writing had been on longer or a different kind of pen had been used, so it didn’t come off the dresser. The Mr. Clean eraser often worked on the wall, but not always. We told them that before they could spend any of their Christmas money on anything else, they would have to buy enough paint to paint the room and dresser.  We moved on with life, acting as if everything is normal. The counselor later told me that that is an essential step: letting the kids know that nothing they do or say phases the routine or the stability.  When they wanted to buy Valentine’s decorations, their dad helped them first figure out how much paint they needed. He took them to the hardware store, and they bought a gallon of paint, some paint brushes, and more erasers. As of July, they have repainted the dresser. The walls, they are a different story.
Once supervised visitations started at the beginning of April, the nine year old regressed and became unable to sleep alone as she had done for four years. Her tummy aches turned out to be nerves. She realized she didn’t want to see her mom anymore. The tummy aches went away when she started choosing to stay with her Dad during that hour instead. However, depression set in in May, and the little girl who loved school suddenly cried each weekday and couldn’t go to school. We have tried all kinds of things, each for about two weeks before trying something new. I bought books for her and for me. We tried all kinds of de-stressing tools. We have tried all kinds of sleeping arrangements with the goal of at least getting all of us some good sleep, so we could better deal with things.  Sleep deprivation is an awful thing to mix in with court stress, depression, and the need to feel safe and secure.
After getting better sleep, I started thinking outside of the box. We’ve set up a bed in the office with a peaceful mural on the wall. We take turns sleeping there, with the hopes that Aubra can eventually make that her room. She is now sleeping by herself and has left for camp excited instead of full of anxiety. While they are at camp, I plan on rearranging closets to get us one step closer to Aubra feeling ready for her own room.
The now 12 year old is definitely ready for her own room!  She has been a trooper, growing and blooming like a beautiful, hearty weed. She amazes us!  We have taken wheat and all possible gluten out of our diets. Since the transition, all her Asperger-type symptoms have disappeared. She is so much more positive and wise. Conversations are now easy and comfortable. Even in the midst of losing a mom and two best friends, she lives each day with courage and grace!
Maybe when we divide their room into two, we can paint the walls. Anyone else want a peaceful mural?
Court is over. The psych eval and court process showed that their mom is a danger to their medical and psychological health. I am embarking on the new experience of being allowed to be the full time mom. It couldn’t have happened any other way. It had to be this bad for me to feel like my being the only mom is the best thing for them. I never thought that this honor would be given to me. I was nervous about this summer being my first time having the girls 24/7 without even the school day as a distraction. It has been a good summer, though. The girls still call me by my name, but they seem to be referring to me as their mom to others.
It feels good to live each day without the drama. We are all healing in our own time and manner, and things look like it’ll all be okay. One day, one moment at a time, we are becoming the family I always dreamed of having.