re boot

This month marks three years since we met our children, and so we are now venturing into our fourth year.

If recent events have taught me anything it is that the job of making a family through adoption never ends, that the process of accepting and then defeating their many dysfunctions is ongoing, that the fight with your own demons never ends, that it is never Job Done. Oh and three years is noooootttthhhhhiiiinnnnggg.

Husband and I are still parenting from anger with our Daughter, but it is a good and healthy anger now. We're really challenging her, getting her to look at herself, getting her to try and understand herself. She hides from herself too much, that girl. Does stuff she knows she shouldn't and then just waits for it all to blow over. She's got to figure out another way to get through the day.

I deal with a lot of cash because of my business and now lock all my money away, as opposed to just hiding it, in a lush vintage lockable jewellery box I bought myself as a treat. I see no sign of Husband's cash either, so he's obviously sticking it somewhere she can't get too. I refuse however to turn this place into a jail. She will fit into this home, this home will not be made to fit around her.

The policewoman who was coming to speak to her? Cancelled on us twice. I don't know that there is much point in having her around now as at half-term I will declare a fresh start. We start trusting her again, with small things, with tight boundaries, with promises of more freedom, and let's see if she can handle it this time. She had just started High School and so she was bound to let her trauma out somehow. Perhaps we'll have more chance with her now.

Things with Son remain stable. I suspect he's able to keep his excesses in check because so much focus is on his Sister's problems, so he can relax. I fully expect that when we hit a clear patch with her, he'll roughen things up again. They work like that, take it in turns to make living in this family uncomfortable.

There are positives though. One big one in particular. I've realised that the claustrophobia I felt has eased up significantly. They do not now own every second of my time when they are in the house with me, and I bat off their habitual attempts to control me fairly easily now and they are accepting of it, rather than spiraling off into a rejection induced trauma. We have a lot of normal in this house these days, and I think that is the most healing thing I can create for them.

And so, fresh start, again. Here's to year four.