The Power Of Sorry

By Trauma No Comments

The boys had been with us for a couple of weeks when it happened. It had seemed to be going fairly smoothly (apart from thinking I had lost the eldest – top tip: never play hide and seek in a strange playground), and, permanent state of exhaustion aside, we were all adjusting to our new lives. Or in a state of shock… take your pick.

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The L Word

By Parenting, The Great Behaviour Breakdown, Therapeutic parenting, Trauma No Comments

In this age of fake news, perhaps I need to re-evaluate my
feelings about lies. I hate them. I have a thing about lying, cheating and
everything else to do with falsehood.

And I know we are not supposed to use the L word, but I do. Something that’s dishonestly
made up is a lie. I know that’s not therapeutic, but, like I said, I have a
thing about it. How can I be therapeutic for something I need therapy about?

Enough of me. This is actually about my otherwise delightful
son, who is very much into lies.

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By The Great Behaviour Breakdown, Therapeutic parenting, Trauma No Comments

I took The Great Behaviour Breakdown course to manage his
behaviour.  Tell him you know how angry
he is, they said in the classroom.

Jump up and down with him when he’s angry, they said. 

Try to get him spinning, they said.  It regulates the vestibular system in his

I jumped.  I
spun.  I shouted. 

“I would be so angry too,” I shouted.  And my son screamed at me, so high and shrill
and then he hit me harder and opened his jaws as if to bite.   It
made it worse. 

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Is It Me, Or…?

By Siblings, Trauma No Comments

At half term, I decided to put one of my kids in clubs while
the other had 1:1 time with me. The elder went first and all was well, as I had
expected. After a day away from his brother, with whom he is locked in war, he
felt nourished, attended to, happy. I had been able to let him make more
choices than usual and he really rose to that. 

The youngest, however, presented me with a very different
day out. 

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Travelling Together

By Trauma No Comments

I am in a really privileged position. Pre-adoption, I made it my mission to travel as much as possible and when I adopted I understood that this part of my life would end. But, surprise surprise, my six year-old came to me with a desire to travel and begging for a passport.

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