Comments (0)

By Annie, April 16, 2013 9:00 am

This post originally appeared on tapestryministry.org March 5, 2013.

Since January my family has implemented more changes than I can count and has been living in transition ever since. We get to each Friday and celebrate that we have survived another week. And we are thankful for all these changes and the ones that we still haven’t gone through, but we are looking forward to when we can start saying goodbye to transition.

That being said, I don’t think we would be doing as well as we are (don’t worry we have bad, ugly days) if we hadn’t been through Empowered to Connect (ETC) training. When my oldest is headed towards spiraling out of control at bedtime and I can look over and snap a picture of her “pushing down a wall” and see my youngest daughter copying her – that is a gratifying moment.

We went through our first ETC parent training when our oldest daughter was 18 months old, and now after 3 years of teaching and implementing the strategies we are seeing more regularly the fruits of our labor. She is initiating the use of the strategies – at least at bedtime.

So if you are new to Tapestry and/or ETC, let me tell you that the time spent learning the strategies and teaching the strategies is worth it; it does take hard work by both the parents and the children but especially the parents. And if you have been using the strategies for awhile, I hope that you too are having gratifying moments, maybe they’re rare or maybe they’re everyday, either way, let them be the encouragement you need to face another day.

If you have any examples of gratifying moments with your children, I would love for you to share your stories in the comments.

Comments (0)

By Annie, April 9, 2013 9:00 am

This originally appeared on tapestryministry.org February 26, 2013.

At the beginning of the month, my oldest daughter asked me to tell her the story of her adoption. When I got to the end, she said:

“Don’t tell anyone my adoption name. You can call me that at home but I don’t want anyone to know that name.”

I could try to infer why she’s focusing on her name, but all I need to do is honor her words. She would like her “adoption name” to be kept private. Her need to keep things private is not new to us; she is often telling us stories and then exhorting us to not tell anyone.

My daughter’s comment is a good reminder for me to honor her need for privacy  — even if she is only four. Tapestry posted three articles about privacy and over-sharing recently, so I guess the subject has been on my mind. If you didn’t get a chance to read them, I recommend you take some time and dig in: Before You Share, Make Sure It’s Yours to Share; Protecting What is Sacred; Oh No, I’ve Said Too Much.

If you have already read the articles, I hope you are taking notes on the parts of your child’s story that need to be kept private, whether your child verbalizes that or not.  If you’ve made mistakes in this area, or if you’re just struggling to make sense of what to share, don’t worry — you’re not alone! Most of us are parents to children with circumstances and stories that are different from our own, so guarding their stories is a skill we have to develop intentionally as we go.

Thankfully, my daughter was very specific about one detail she wanted kept private, so I got one right this time.

Comments (0)

By Annie, March 5, 2013 12:00 pm

This post orginally appeared on tapestryministry.org.

I still think about things Carissa Woodwyk said during the Tapestry Women’s Event in January. She brought up the difference between describing and defining. Carissa encouraged us to be careful in how we describe our children because those words can come to define them. She said, “When you keep hearing the same things over and over, whether good or bad, you come to believe it.”

As I thought about that, I thought about Carissa first and then my daughter. Carissa came to the event as an adopted person, but that’s not all she is. She and I talked about decorating and children’s clothes and the age-old “pop” vs. “Coke” debate. But Carissa is more than her interests. I don’t know all that she is. I do know that being an adopted person is a significant piece—but only a piece—of her story.

Then I thought about my daughter and how I would describe her to someone. My daughter is beautiful, and her face lights up when she smiles. She is a girlie girl, meaning she loves dresses, skirts, dreaming about weddings, princesses, princes, and fairies. She loves pink and purple and everything that sparkles. She loves sprinkles on her pancakes and sour candy (not chocolate) and drawing and dancing and gymnastics. She is who she is, and we love who she is. But even all her interests and passions are not all that’s to her. There’s more.

There will always be more. Most of what we see on the outside is just a way to describe each other, while what defines us takes more time to see.

My oldest daughter is an adopted person, but that doesn’t need to be part of her introduction like she’s at an Adopted Person’s Anonymous meeting, or even like it’s part of her name. Being an adopted person is a piece of her story, but so is being a daughter, a sister, a cousin, a granddaughter and a friend. Our oldest daughter became a part of our family through adoption, and we will treasure that and honor that part of her story. But her story is still going and we hope to guide her to believe and define herself as loved, cherished, appreciated … and I could go on.

Carissa helped me see that I need to be more mindful of the words I’m saying and how I’m saying them. I mean, maybe I’m creating the popstar diva that I live with (hopefully not), but maybe I can learn to describe my diva as a creative, enthusiastic lover of dance and music. I can describe her as a kind and thoughtful big sister.

As you go about your week, listen to what you are saying about your children and to your children. Would you be comfortable with your children turning your descriptions into definitions? The truth is we can all grow in this area as we learn to see our children for who they were made to be, and in turn, teach them to see themselves that way too.

Comments (0)

By Annie, February 26, 2013 12:00 pm

A couple weeks ago Tapestry Adoption & Foster Care Ministry did a series of posts on oversharing. Take the time to read them and to pause and think about what you share, how you share, and who you share it with.

Before You Share, Make Sure It’s Yours to Share by Michael Monroe

Protecting What is Sacred by Melanie Chung-Sherman

Oh No, I’ve Said Too Much by Amy Monroe

Comments (1)

By Annie, February 12, 2013 9:00 am

This post originally appeared on tapestryministry.org. 

I took some notes while listening to Amy Monroe interview Carissa Woodwyk at the Tapestry Women’s Event a couple weeks ago, and I keep coming back to two quotes from Carissa.

As Carissa reflected on her childhood she said, “I promised that no one and nothing is going to make me feel afraid again because if I feel afraid that might come true.”

Later she said, “I wish my parents had modeled how to deal with anger, disappointment, forgiveness and mercy.”

Her words both made me feel compassion for my daughter and convicted about the role I play in how she learns to process her emotions.

I felt compassion for the child who is scared to go to bed, scared of the monsters, scared to be alone. I could see how though I saw no logical, tangible reason for being scared, my child could not want to “feel afraid again because if [she] feels afraid that might come true.” So what do you? Keep convincing her that she’s safe and telling her not to be scared – doesn’t work. We have to support her and model how to deal with feeling afraid.

One day she told me something puzzling. After much prompting she finally said, “I had a nightmare and a big blue hairy monster told me that you don’t love me anymore.” First, a big blue hairy monster is scary, second, someone telling you that your parents don’t love you anymore is scary, too. It doesn’t make sense to me; it was a dream; it wasn’t real. But it’s what she’s feeling and she needs my help and she told me. I want her to keep telling me, talking to me.

And then Carissa’s second quote, her desire for her parents to have modeled how to handle feelings, leads to some self-reflection. Anger, disappointment, forgiveness, mercy -those are tough things to model. (I do know that my girls tolerance of each other depends on me figuring out how best to teach and model mercy.) While I work on recognizing my own feelings, so I can teach my children how to recognize and process their own, I have found some books by Cornelia Maude Spelman that we are already using in our home:

When I Feel Scared

When I Feel Jealous

When I Feel Angry

When I Feel Sad

When I Miss You

When I Care About Others

When I Feel Good About Myself

I found some of these titles at my local library, and by the time we made it home from the library, we already had the perfect opportunity to read When I Feel Jealous. It will always blow my mind that when a little bear talks to the momma bear about her feelings that makes more sense than when I try to get my own daughter to talk about her feelings. But progress is progress, I will take it as we continue to navigate all our feelings.

Comments (0)

By Annie, February 5, 2013 9:00 am

I have gone back to work. After 20 months at home with my girls, my former school contacted me and asked me to come back to help them finish out this school year.

It was weird to walk back into a building and rooms I hadn’t seen since May 2011. And then I met my students. I had already heard about one student. (That’s just the way it goes in schools – you always hear about the most difficult ones first.) But I had resolved to form my own opinions.

And I think that this student needs to feel like someone is on his side, like he’s receiving compassion. So I remembered what I’ve been trying to implement with my own children and transferred this to my classroom.

When there’s a problem, I stay. When the child runs, I follow, and I tell him how I feel. I tell the child that it scares me and it’s not safe when he runs away and that I need to keep him safe. I am consistent. I speak with a soft voice. I communicate that I care.

It’s exhausting.

And after a difficult time, I ask the child for a hug. I tell him that hugs make me feel better. I encourage him. I look at the same dinosaur book over and over and over again. When we are waiting for the bus, I ask him to sit in my lap and we sing all the songs he asks for. I try to give him nurture. I try to be the teacher I want my children to have.

I am not saying I’m perfect — that’s not why I tell you what I’m doing. I guess I am saying that what Dr. Karyn Purvis teaches works. It doesn’t guarantee perfection or problem free days, but I know that I am building a relationship, one that I hope will teach him that he can trust me. I hope that he learns to use his voice, to know I am on his side, and that I will help him get his needs met. And I have hope that he will learn that other people can help, too.

I am glad that our adoption journey has introduced us to Dr. Karyn Purvis and Empowered to Connect. If you haven’t checked out Empowered to Connect’s resources, today is a great day to start doing that.

*This post originally appeared on tapestryministry.org

Comments (0)

By Annie, January 24, 2013 9:00 am

At the 2012 Tapestry Adoption and Foster Care Conference, I picked up the book Shame and Grace: Healing the Shame We Don’t Deserve by Lewis B. Smedes. We have had enough moments in our parenting with our children to wonder how this whole idea of shame is affecting us. The more I read this book the more convinced I become that shame is something my family needs to be more conscious of. Smedes describes shame this way:

“To begin with, shame is a very heavy feeling. It is a feeling that we do not measure up and maybe never will measure up to the sorts of persons we are meant to be…The feeling of shame is about our very selves – not about some bad thing we did or said but about what we are. It tells us that we are unworthy. Totally.”

Reading those words breaks my heart and makes me want to not contribute to those feelings. Smedes goes on to describe how shame is different from guilt, frustration, and other emotions. He identifies groups that he thinks are more susceptible to unhealthy shame like “compulsive comparers and approval addicts.” He points out a difference between unhealthy and healthy shame. He suggests religious, cultural, and parental influences that can make us feel shame. And he talks about the shame that comes from the pain of rejection. He says,

“To be disgraceful is to be weighed and found unacceptable to those whom we need to most accept us. It is, in short, to be despised and rejected by our own.”

That last phrase, “…rejected by our own..,” has really stuck with me and so have terms like “compulsive comparers and approval addicts.”  Everything I have read so far is causing me to be more thoughtful and careful with my words to my children and my husband. I think my oldest daughter feels hurts that I can’t imagine, and she needs me to be sensitive to her even when I think what I am asking or saying is trivial because it’s not to her. Everyhing I say to her and do with her is meaningful.

So as I continue to delve into this book, I am glad to have the opportunity to attend Tapestry’s Large Group Event: The Shame in Us:

Adoptive and foster parents are often surprised to learn that shame is a significant issue in the lives of their children…as well as in their own lives.  But parents and children are not without help or hope in the face of shame.  Melanie Chung-Sherman and Michael Monroe will discuss how shame impacts both children and parents in adoptive and foster families, and will provide practical insights and tools to help parents and children overcome shame and strengthen their connection.

I hope to see you at this event, but if you can’t attend the Large Group Event this Saturday, January 26 from 6:30 – 8:30 pm at Irving Bible Church, then I encourage you to check Lewis B. Smedes’s book Shame and Grace. I hope you will find it as insightful as I have.

*This post originally appeared on tapestryministry.org.

Comments (2)

By Annie, December 18, 2012 3:54 pm

Today is the four year anniversary of the day we met our daughter, Elise. I don’t think I’ll ever forget waiting by the phone in the hotel room, surviving a wild cab ride and arriving at the orphanage. It was all so surreal, and left us forever changed.

At the time, we knew so little about the parenting challenges we would encounter — though we thought we had educated ourselves pretty well.  And as we continue to learn more on this adoption journey, today I am reminded of how expectant my husband and I were. December 18, 2008, was the culmination of a very long journey for us. We had traveled a combined 24 hours to meet our daughter. I was sick. We were scared and nervous and tired. But December 18, 2008, was different for Elise. She was tired and hungry and probably wondering who these strangers were that were taking her.

And now in 2012, we are all a little older, and my husband and I are still tired. Sometimes we are frustrated that we are not farther along in our relationship with Elise, while Elise is frustrated that her little sister keeps breaking all her toys and that she can’t have more sour candy. Though we, the parents, process our family story differently than Elise, I hope and pray that as she remembers and makes sense of her own story, she will bring us with her so we can support her in her journey.

So today, December 18, 2012, we will remember where we were four years ago. And we will remember that although December 18 was the start of the story of our family, Elise’s story started before we were ever a part of it. And we will honor her story — all of her story — and how it changes our family as we continue on this journey together.

Comments (0)

By Annie, November 28, 2012 9:00 am

The Thanksgiving holiday feels like practice for the mega holiday — Christmas. My family and I enjoyed a nice Thanksgiving dinner with relatives gathered at our home. My oldest daughter was so excited about “the turkey giving day” and couldn’t wait for the party; she and her sister had a blast entertaining all our guests. The next day we traveled to see more family which was another day of fun.

What holiday weekend would be complete without trying to cram in a couple more things? I mean that’s what time off is for, right? Fitting is as much in as possible. So on Saturday, I took my oldest to see a Nutcracker Puppet Show.

When we arrived home, my daughter had an epic meltdown. The kind you are glad to see end. The kind of meltdown where your child trashes a most-prized possession (such as a bag of Cheetos), which only frustrates you more because you know there will be another meltdown about the lost Cheetos — fun times for all.

And when the meltdown had run its course, she was just tired (and elements of the puppet show had probably been too much). I understood because I was tired too; holidays can be exhausting.

So for our family, I’m going to have to pay more attention to how we manage our time and continue to work on expressing our feelings. I’ve learned that we just can’t overdo it. (I’ve also learned that next year I shouldn’t put my Christmas tree up before December 1, but that’s another story for another day.)

Ultimately, parenting my children well during the holidays means setting them up to succeed, and that’ll require us to opt out of some of the hustle and bustle of the season. I’m fine with that — especially if it means we don’t waste anymore Cheetos.

NOTE: Some families can feel another kind of stress over the holidays. Michael Monroe wrote about the sadness children can feel during the holidays called “Why Christmas Stinks Sometimes.”

Comments (0)

By Annie, November 22, 2012 9:00 am

This post originally appeared on Tapestry Adoption & Foster Care Ministry’s website.

Daylight Saving Time dealt us a serious set back. We had a rough week last week because we were all so tired. And right as we were about to fully recover from DST, we went out of town for a family wedding. While we enjoyed the weekend with family, we did not enjoy our Sunday evening with our overtired girls.

It was the kind of tired where you are beyond exhaustion and you start to get silly. It is very hard to redirect a four year old who has reached this point, and it always seems that at some point an emotional low comes with the exhaustion which makes me wish that children came with a reset button, but they don’t.

As we were nearing the end of our evening, our oldest, started saying, “I look awful. I look weird,” after her bath. Nothing really preceded these statements, she just started saying, “I look so awful. I look weird,” and there was no convincing her otherwise. I wasn’t sure what was causing her to make these statements, so I turned to one of favorite resources – children’s books.

I pulled out, I Don’t Have Your Eyes, The Skin You Live In, Thank You For Me, The Colors of Us, and Gigi’s God’s Little Princess. Not all of these books are specifically adoption related, but I was looking to give her some positive feedback. As we read these books and talked about different people in each book and how I love everything about her, we got a part in The Skin You Live In that says you look up to the sky and ask why. She looked up and said, “God, why do me and mom look different?” Luckily, she didn’t expect me to answer because that is a really difficult question to answer, and I’m not sure what I would say. It made we wish I didn’t have to wait until December for the Color and Shame DVDs from the Tapestry Store.

But all I could do was reassure her that I loved her. And at the end of the night I said, “Do you remember what mommy said?” She said, “Yes that you don’t love my outside, you only love my inside.” While I inwardly sighed that she still didn’t get, I reassured her again that I love the outside and the inside. And this morning after 12 hours of sleep, I’m happy to report that she woke up declaring herself the smartest and best person in her family – her self-confidence was restored.

While I’m sure we will have these conversations again, I’m thankful that I was able to engage my daughter some, that a good night’s sleep has helped us over this hurdle, and especially that more resources will soon be available to me. I’ll take all the help I can get.