It is Wednesday. We are on our third day at sea and will reach Puerto Rico around 4 pm this afternoon.
I have no new bruises or bites and have started to relax. The Dad was really uptight the first few days, but he, too, is starting to relax. GB is enjoying herself, but has required help self-regulating. This is her third cruise, but she was more stable on the first two cruises, both because she was on Risperdal and because she was coming from a stable home life. I am putting a lot of energy into keeping her regulated with some success. We have only needed one PRN. Camp Carnival, their kids programs, try to be accommodating to children with special needs, but need to improve. This will be a separate post when we get home and a letter to the cruise line.
GB has swam, face painted, played mini golf, signed up to hoop with her friend in the talent show, played mini golf, and stuffed a dog at build a bear. GB just came in to change into her bathing suit. She was looking for her towel when there was wild knocking on the door. It was her friend from the next cabin, standing stark naked in the hallway, asking me with a big smile if I would help her put her bathing suit on.
MK is enjoying herself. Mali has successfully negotiated Camp Carnival twice now. This is a major achievement for both of them.
I hate being in pictures, but so far this week, I am in a lot of them. Most aren’t very good.
Tomorrow we swim with the dolphins and Friday we swim with the sting rays and take a ride in a sub. I have an appointment for acupuncture after the dolphins tomorrow and am hoping that will enable me to go to Friday’s excursions.
A new post on the other blog tomorrow…
Hope is safely at respite. The Dad took it much harder than Hope. I have no idea what will happen after respite- my mind simply won’t go there tonight. Tomorrow morning the rest of us leave on a cruise. We will be back on Labor Day. I will not be checking email, blogging, or on FB while I’m gone. Not to worry, I will be ok. Wednesday, I will be in Puerto Rico and may be able to post pictures.
I am not crazy. However, I am abused. I put the details on the other blog, but they really aren’t important. After being beat up 12 consecutive days, I have disengaged. I feed her, I make sure she has her meds, and I keep her safe from herself. I am being physically abused by a six year old and I can not stop her. I no longer talk about feelings, cuddle, read stories, or even smile at her. She is up twelve hours a day and my goal for each of those hours is that GB doesn’t get hurt and at least gets away from this madhouse for a couple of hours each day.
A special meeting was held on Hope today, at 11:45. I assume they came up with nothing new as I haven’t heard from them. I am not crazy, but I am not me either. So strange.
The Crazies are up a notch today. Hope is attacking, destroying, and mad at the world. She is smiling as she ruins whatever she touches- even her own stuff. I told her she would need to replace everything she destroyed that belonged to someone else. Hope laughed and told me she had no money. I told her she could either do chores to earn money or we could skip her birthday party and that way we would have $200 to replace what she broke. Hope stopped laughing and told me I couldn’t do that. I didn’t answer and now Hope is destroying things with grim determination instead of Crazy joy. I told her I was sad she was making such poor decisions. That brought the smile back. I brought out the foam blocks and left them in the middle of the floor. Maybe destroying things will get boring and she will decide to build. Maybe not.
GB continues to blossom. She is off with a friend today at an amusement park. She has everything she needs to self regulate; her Ipod, high protein food, plenty of water, and my you are not alone rock. The cruise is coming up and GB’s excitement is so enjoyable to see.
Hope is not having an easy day. She is mad that GB is at the amusement park. She is mad that she is not going on the cruise. I have been therapeutic so far. She hit the little one, who has been wandering around telling anyone who would listen that Hope hit him and was bad.
Hope does not want to stay in the same room as me. She has no choice, as she is still level one on the waiver worker’s chart. Each day she has been physically aggressive before breakfast and busted down to level one for the day. This is the first day Hope and I have been home without outside support. So far, she has only pinched me. It left a nasty bruise, but was not as painful as being bitten. The waiver worker will be here in two hours. I need to work on getting Hope’s therapist from school to finish the psychological the school psychologist started last week. Finishing the paperwork is still possible.
Days are up and down. Hope is edgier, quick to go off. She no longer wears shoes while in the car. Three days in a row, she chose to throw them at the Dad as he was driving. I just don’t drive with her anymore. She talked the Dad into leaving the door to her room open last night because she was “lonely”. Within a couple minutes, Hope had gone into MK’s room and emptied a perfume bottle. Sigh. Alarm on again. Hope is clingy and clearly nervous about being abandoned again. Words that say she is ours forever are hollow to her. She can’t/ won’t control the violence. In the end, it doesn’t really matter. Families can not survive that level of violence and chaos indefinitely.
I am still working on the SPOA paperwork. I am also working on getting more help into the house. If everything goes perfectly, we won’t have an RTF until at least October. Meanwhile, I put as many gentle words, soft eyes, and loving touches into Hope as I can. Maybe, some day, she will remember them. And when she remembers, maybe she will let herself be bathed in their warmth.
I received a gift from The Dad. After our craptabulous AT session yesterday, The Dad checked into the hotel and unpacked and I called my friend, who is also a Trauma Mama, and she came to pick me up. Since her wonderful hubby put their kids to bed, my friend and I had 24 kid free hours to talk and talk and talk some more. We made one foray into the real world. We went out to lunch and treated ourselves to these decadent desserts.
We drove 3 1/2 hours to see the AT today. We saw the therapist who did Hope’s Attachment Intensive. MK and Mali came too. She told us that even without the complicating factors of GB, MK, and Mali, Hope probably would have needed RFT to heal. She was unable to deal with the trauma that the therapy brought into her consciousness.
More on the other blog.
As part of the RTF process, Hope needed a psychological done. We did the IQ test today. As expected, Hope is intellectually intact. I am happy that there is something else I can cross off my check list. But my initial reaction was blinding anger.
How did her first adoptive family take an intact baby and turn her into the feral five year old we adopted. Not productive, I know. But my anger is real.