Trauma Kids

Okay guys. My heart is heavy tonight. It could be exhaustion from teaching, working out, doing the dishes, working out some more, cooking dinner, allowing my son to drive me to pick up a prescription, giving my daughter a bath, reading with her, showering, and then reading a book for school. Or I’m PMS’ing. Ugh… womanhood. Either way, I’m emotional and here’s why.

I have been asked to attend a trauma conference in St. Louis. This will take place in November. I am actually very excited about it even though being away from my sweet little family will be more work than being here. I mean can I get an Amen for that? Seriously, meal prepping for the hubs, writing out schedules, arranging drop-off and pick-up for my daughter and so on… wow. But even with all that, something in my heart is breaking.

Because I am going to this conference I have been asked to read a book. If you’re an educator and you hear the words, “book study,” you cringe a little. My eyes were wide when I saw that I had a month to read 90 pages. But once I got started, I couldn’t put the book down. It’s titled Help for Billy by Heather T. Forbes, LCSW and I recommend it for anyone that will come in contact with children. This book breaks down what it’s like for children who live or have lived in traumatic situations and how adults respond to them. How adults respond to them…. That’s where my heart breaks.

I am blessed to be called Mom or Jessie by five children who have come from some sort of trauma. My two step-children are products of divorce, single parent homes, and the struggle of finding their way in the world. And then there’s my three children who were adopted from foster care. I sometimes forget all of their different circumstances because I am in momma mode. I am helping with homework, cooking, cleaning, playing, laughing, and being my regular ole’ goofy self. But then there’s a melt down in the middle of the fun. There’s a smart ass remark when asked to do something. There’s a fight over something all the time. It’s exhausting and my “adult like responses” mirror my exhaustion. I am ashamed.

Did you know that every thought we have in our brain makes a little path in our brain? If the thought is repeated over and over again, the path gets deeper and deeper. If it’s only a few times, it doesn’t last long. How I respond to my children at home and in the classroom makes a little path in my kids’ brains. What I say is internalized into their little minds as a positive or negative pathway. For some reason it is so much easier for me to stay positive at school. I get in teacher mode and can rock the stress all day long. I come home and BAM… I just can’t.

And here’s where I cry. I’ve said things I shouldn’t have. I’ve lost my patience with my unique children. Has that caused internal negative thoughts making deep, deep, deep pathways in their brains? I mean, I understand this all too well. I have baggage I carry around with me because of what adults said to me as a child. Will I do the same to my kids?

I read silently to myself with tears streaking down my cheeks realizing I had escalated situations at home that could have easily been avoided with a little more “Mister Rogers” approach. I couldn’t take it anymore and I walked down the hall, still crying mind you and whispered into my middle son’s room.

“Are you still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Um. So I’ve been reading this book and it’s made me cry and I just want you to know that I love you okay? Like I love you a whole lot. And if I ever say anything that makes you feel otherwise, you have to tell me, Okay?” He’s laughing at me and I have to laugh as well. I mean I came barging in 20 minutes or so after he’s gone to bed, crying and professing my love for him. It’s quite comical. But I do love him. A whole lot.

So anyway, read the book. You won’t regret it. And say I love you a little more. And maybe give an extra hug instead of a consequence. Just saying.