Treasured Memories…….. #waso

Treasured memories, lots and lots to choose from but one that stands out the most is a very clear memory from our early days together.

I had taken Bonzo to a local park (park is understatement, large area of land owned by the Queen), for us both to get some fresh air and to reduce my increasing cabin fever.

At first Bonzo (who I don’t think had ever been in a big open green space before) held my hand, then he tentatively let go. Then he ran. To the leaves. Then he picked up the leaves and started throwing them, again and again and again.

A really normal activity for most 2 year olds. But a magical moment for Bonzo.

 

 

Back to normal (our normal)

A few weeks ago I blogged about Bonzo and his general regression. (see here).

After a continuing couple of weeks of extremes – extremely cross, extremely emotional, extremely extreme, on Saturday, mid bike race he started to lose control of his emotion. Although not especially what I wanted it is good, as I know it is the start of him blurting out what has been going on in his mind. ( I am pretty sure it is also what gave him the power to speed to a great 6th position in his under 8s bike race!). And if he has to start screaming at me, then I guess a large outside area with lots of noisy boys is as good a place as any!

So, as predicted, and expected, though not wanted (by me), it has been the worry about going into school on his own that has caused all this.

Walking into the classroom without me has been enough of a challenge for him for us to return to meltdown city.

After bike club, and once Bonzo had calmed enough we talked about what was going on. I ‘wondered’ if going into school without me was too much. ‘yes’ he sobbed, ‘I can’t do it anymore’. Ok. Time to take action. Again.

With a ‘hello, it’s me again’ grin on my face & holding Bonzo’s hand I walked him into school on Monday morning and spoke quietly with Mrs Black. She sent me to see Mrs D who as ever, was courteous, caring (patted me on my shoulder and asked how I was!) and asked me to hang on a few minutes whilst she did the register and she would come for a chat. What she probably wanted to say was ‘oh for heaven’s sake, now what’.

So, we chatted, I explained more, she said how tricky it was for her to think of ways to help him when she just has a reasonably settled, but anxious and hyper little boy in school. I appreciate this is difficult, and she again, showed full support and said that ‘this by no way means that we don’t believe you, we will do anything we can to help him’. Great.

Once again, Mrs D agreed to my suggestions and had some of her own. As of Tuesday, I have been taking Bonzo into school through the office and directly in to the classroom, 2 minutes before they open the door to let the masses in. Each day either Mrs D or Mrs Black have come and taken him from me, with a cheery ‘Morning Bonzo’ and a hand to hold. I sneak back out the way I arrived, and then the others pour in.

I have also upped my presence in the school in general. Volunteering to do any jobs that are asked. That way Bonzo can see me floating around. This week has been sorting out a PTA cupboard, being CRBd (for the umpteenth time) and manning the bookstall.

All has combined to make for a happier week. Bonzo’s shoulders have returned to the normal position, he has enjoyed rehearsing for his assembly, and is happily reading lots at home to get ‘stamps’ on his school bookmark. All good, normal stuff.

Not sure I would ever describe our family life as normal. But for now it is our normal – and that will do nicely.

Early days #WASO

A photographic glimpse of our early days as a family.

All taken in the first few months.

Our first moments alone together.

Exploring the local woods.

 

Puddle jumping fun.

A first trip to soft play.

Getting to grips with Duplo.

Plane spotting at a local airport.

Support (not always where you expect it)

Lots of buzzing about support on FB, Twitter etc at the moment, so here is my take on it.

Support, support, support. That is what the background noise to my home visits were. One visit, we spent the whole of the visit, so around 2 hrs, with my social worker writing down the names of nearly everbody in my address book, ages of children and what level of support I thought they would give. This was a very long and brainexhausting morning – she seriously expected me to remember the ages (to the month, thankfully not day) of the children of my friends. And any strange sounding names I had to spell for her. It took forever, and was, to that degree of quizzing, ridiculous.

And what was even funnier was when I was allowed to read the list through, she had spelt ‘Eleanor’ (I know several) differently each time. So, my spelling was clearly not necessary.

Then the questions – let’s take ‘Sarah’ (this makes it anonymous, I have 11 in my phone list!’. Could you call her in the middle of the night. Would you trust her with your child. Could you talk to her about issues. Would she help in an emergency. And so it went on. In the end, I am pretty sure my flippancy fell out with a ‘if it was an emergency any of my friends would help – that is why I call them friends’. Didn’t help. She still continued my ‘friendship quiz’.

Being a single adopter, they obviously take the support group issue, and possible health issues seriously.

And I can of course see why.

My list was long and varied. Friends, family, bosses, exbosses, school friends, college friends, the Asda man…… But when Bonzo moved in, was when the real test of support began.

Support comes in all shapes and sizes, none is better or more useful than others, but some is definitely tastier…..

In the very early days a box of cakes arrived – nothing could’ve been a better boost than a box of cakes to open together, eat together & enjoy together. (thank you, you know who you are!)

(ok, maybe I should have helped more with the opening bit)

One friend started saving all her son’s out grown clothes, bikes, toys, dvds – everything – again, support that I wasn’t expecting but that makes a huge difference.

One friend & family has given us more support than I could ever describe – I know if we fled there now, the door would be opened with a smile, dinner would be cooked, wine would be opened and Bonzo would be happy. (ok, they might be a bit surprised, but I’ll text ahead)

One old boss continues to provide support for us in many imaginative ways. The children unconditionally love Bonzo, and he loves them. She is even kind enough to lend me her children from time to time, which ensures peace for sometime!

Another friend texted frequently, took us out for lunch, and immediately accepted Bonzo as part of my family, and therefore as someone she would support. Again, I know if I turned up on her doorstep, no questions would be asked. Other than if we were hungry. (and she makes some great ‘bricks’!)

As we ventured out into life in the village and I began telling people that Bonzo was adopted, people were generally supportive and I have made some good friends through the local toddler group & church.

One of my old charges grandparents phoned to ask if they could be ‘Bonzo’s other grandparents’. I managed not to cry, and gratefully accepted that extra bit of love for him. They never forget a birthday/Christmas/Easter and have more photos of Bonzo up on the fridge than my ex charge ( and it was her that counted, not me!)

Then of course we have the friends that we met during the prep groups. I made a couple of very good friends and when all the children were placed so did Bonzo. Although we have moved away, we still try as much as possible to meet up with them and whilst the children play we can talk. Support is mutual. Explanation isn’t necessary. And funnily enough we laugh alot together. Perhaps that is what keeps us sane. Laughter.

Then the flip side of the coin. A couple of friends disappeared almost overnight. Friends who were very much top of my support list, to be quite frank, buggered off, and haven’t really appeared since. I will never know why. Perhaps don’t want to know why. But it is something we were warned about in preparation groups – just not something I imagined happening.

So, that is friends.

Support also comes from family. Aunt S, Unc S have been supportive beyond belief. Including, when moving was necessary, encouraging me to move less than a mile from them. (ok, this works both ways, we can support each other.) Seeing Bonzo love his cousins is just the best, and I think in time, they will be a vital part of his support network.

And of course my parents and Unc J. Though they don’t really get it. From the start my parents took Bonzo into the family with unconditional love, support and of course gifts of tat. Unc J took a bit longer to be convinced about the adoption idea, but once Bonzo was with us, he stepped up to being a fantastic Uncle.

These days of course we have support from outside sources.

Preschool were fantastic. Small, friendly, supportive, helpful. Everything Bonzo needed to set him on his way.

School continue to be supportive. They are at worst brilliant and at best go beyond the call of duty. Though there are bits they don’t grasp, they listen, learn & do. (generally, still working on the photo bit!)

Camh have provided alot of support, guidance and ideas.

Doctors have been great. (especially the GP that told Camh what to do about referrals), my most recent boss was great (and as head of Senco, a useful source of info!)

So, in this wonderful network of support who is missing.

Yes, you’ve guessed.

Social Services. The level of support that I have had from pre adoption and post adoption support has been pants. (and I am not including here the fact they gave my contact details to birth family, that was a mistake, but doesn’t influence my thoughts (much)).

When Bonzo moved in, visits were done to the legal minimum. 10 weeks to the day that he walked through my door (the minimum) the papers to legalise the adoption arrived. No extra visits, no asking how it was going, no probing that bit deeper.Then when we had to move and Bonzo’s problems began to intensify, not an single iota of support. They wouldn’t communicate with our new LA, they wouldn’t finance any support (hence the GP having to give referrals), and as Bonzos IAD gets worse they still won’t help.

I have all but given up.

My newly allocated PAS worker has done more in her one visit than they have managed in nearly 4 years.

So, now I see why they go on and on and on about support. (because they clearly aren’t going to give any, best get it from somewhere else).

And before I go, best I say ‘thank you’ to all those who have supported, continue to support (importantly including all folk on Twitter!) and if I haven’t mentioned you, please don’t disappear (or take it personally!) your support has been much appreciated as well!

 

#silentsunday

Silent Sunday

#silentsunday

Regression. Progression. Regression.

This weeks #WASO topic is regression.

Physically Bonzo has progressed enormously over the past 12 months. He has become super active, super fit & super healthy. (I think it must be nearly 12 mths since he has had antibiotics, but don’t say that out loud. fate might be tempted…). He can swim, he can bike,he can walk miles & miles, he can run, he can catch, and shock, horror, he has even grown. (OK, not much, but he has).

Emotionally however, I see only regression. Highlighted more this week more than ever.

Yesterday Bonzo and I headed off to the woods for a picnic with his ‘goodest friend’, a fellow adoptee, and a great friend of mine, a fellow adopter (obviously). This is a great combination as Bonzo and ‘goodest friend’ can run unhindered, and (almost) un-nagged, and me and t’other Mum can walk, talk, complain, swear, in relative peace. Only yesterday we couldn’t.

All through the woods, and almost continuously there was a shrill sound of ‘Mummmmmmeeeeeeee’, with a panic stricken little boy searching frantically for me. No need to search, I wasn’t once out of sight, or once out of hearing, or didn’t once walk off without him. It was continuous. (and just a touch annoying). And along side the shrill ‘Mummmmmmmmeeeeeeeeee’ was a lower, quieter reply of ‘Bonzo, I am here, you can see me & hear me, I am not going anywhere without you.’

At school, in the mornings he has been hugging onto my legs in the typical 2 year old fashion. Even making suitable toddler noises that fit the image.

He has been finger eating, clothes chewing, duvet eating and all other things that toddlers might do.

So, what has caused this regression? As ever, change. This week Reception took a leap in the direction of Year 1 and started going unaccompanied into the class room. Of course the teachers accompanied them, us Mummy’s stood waving from the playground. Now we have been very lucky – most schools start this in September, his school has given them 2 terms of security. At school obviously, Bonzo has shown no reaction to change, he just saves it all up for home where he can regress in the safety of his own home.

So we regress, we progress, we regress some more. But we will get there (not sure where!), slowly, but surely.

 

‘This is Brilliant, the boy exclaimed’!

#silentsunday

Transition……….. looking back.

Bonzo toddled into my life when he was 2yrs 3mths old.

I had had time to think about, discuss, chew over, over think, and get on, move forward with my decision to adopt. It was my choice. He was also my choice.

Bonzo however, had no time to think, no understading and no choice.

He had by the time I met him had more ‘homes’ than I have had in 40 years, and certainly more confusion.

Then one Friday afternoon several people came to what he thought was his home. The home where  he had lived with people who had loved him (I hope) for the previous 9 mths. A couple of them he will of recognised, one of them was me, his new Mummy (who he won’t have recognised, I had seen him fleetingly months before). We sat and discussed when and how the following week would go.

The week of transition. For me, but mainly for him.

It was decided I only needed 5 days of intros. I had experience with children, knew how to change nappies and run a bath. What Bonzo needed didn’t seem to come into the chat. So, that Friday afternoon, around his foster carers dining table his immediate future was mapped out. It should’ve been minimum 7 days but the weekend was too busy for his foster carer to fit intros in, so 5 days it was.

This is roughly how it went

Mon – I arrive mid morning, a little boy with blonde hair and blue eyes opens the door (with his FC) and says ‘Hello Mummy’. I play with Bonzo, watch him eat his lunch and then go home as he heads for his nap. (something else I didn’t need to practice, so wasn’t in the intros agenda. I thought it was for the child’s sake, not mine, that I put him to bed?)

Tuesday – I arrive mid morning and we go to the park together. I take my first photo of him, followed by many more. I take him back to his FC and this time I am allowed to put a sandwich on his plate. I then go home and he goes for his nap. Late afternoon he comes to visit me in his ‘new home’. We have drinks & flapjack and after an hour or so he goes back with the FC.

Weds – Similar as Tuesday only I take him to the park on my own. And to the corner shop where we buy a football. It is nearly as big as him, but his smile is huge and we happily play in the park for an hour or so before I go home.

Thursday – FC brings him over to my flat and leaves him, comes and collects him just after lunch.

Friday – I go and collect him mid morningish and he stays all day at my house.

Saturday & Sunday – no visits. FC have a busy schedule on Saturday and Sunday is the ‘goodbye’ day.

Monday morning – 10am -this comparative stranger, who Bonzo knows as ‘Mummy’, turns up again. This time, he and a binliner full of stuff are loaded into my car, and we are off.

Bonzo’s new life begins.

Now, how we expect a child, with no understanding of what is going on to cope with that beggars belief. At the time I didn’t think about it too much – I just got on doing what I had been told to do. When I look back now and see the sadness in his eyes it is hard to take in. Did he understand what was happening? Of course he didn’t. To him it was just another change in his hectic, muddled life. Did he complain. Not a bit.

Does it explain where his Insecure Attachment issues come from. I think so. Not just that transition, but the others he had gone through too. Some planned, some emergency – all too much change & upset for 1 little boy.

Bonzo has seen his Foster carer twice since. Once about 6 weeks later and once around a year later – I was keen to keep in touch. Now it it just Christmas news.

It is no wonder he thinks I am about to disappear, it is no wonder that he panics and behaves like a, well, like I don’t know what, when unknown people come to visit. He clearly thinks they are going to steal him away.

After all, in his innocent eyes, that is just what I did.

2 sides of a flippin coin.

Ah, so term is over, work has finished, visitors have gone, all the chocolate is hidden (mainly inside me) and a relative normality has resumed.

It is ages since I have blogged properly – few Silent Sundays but that’s all.

Bonzo is doing better in some ways and not so good in others. In general though, life is better than at the beginning of the year – and with support from school, Camh, PAS, friends we are moving in the right direction. Albeit slowly.

It is looking more and more likely that his eye rolling is in fact a tic. (this is my diagnosis, not official!). He holds it all together in school, then comes home and let’s it all out. Involuntarily – seems to have no control, and for the most part isn’t aware he is rolling his eyes, and now, nodding his head diagonally as well. If this was happening at school, surely they would have noticed?

His main problem however is still the Insecure Attachment, which I know isn’t going to ‘do one’ soon. He, on the plus side, is now voicing his concerns ever so slightly.

‘Mummy, only 2 more sleeps till the Easter holidays then I can be with you the whole time’.

Whoopee – indeed, and by the whole time, when we are at home he means the whole time. If I move too quickly there is a danger I will crush him, knock him over, or trip over him and break my leg. Where ever I am, so is he. But he has developed a knack of arriving so quietly that I don’t know he is near me (though you would think by now I could’ve worked it out!). He will now no longer clean his teeth unless I am in the bathroom next to him – I tentatively asked him why, ‘because I can’t hear you when I brush my teeth, my brush is too noisy’. (his brush is in fact silent, it is the brushing that is noisy). He won’t do his shoes up unless I am near him as the velcro is so noisy, again, he can’t hear where I am.

But, as soon as anyone else enters the equation – be it Granny, Pickle, Pop, friends, neighbours, then I no longer get eye contact, let alone a smile. If I touch him, I get ‘ow that hurts’ or plain ‘get off me’ and so on, and so on. At night time he won’t kiss good night or these days rarely accepts a cuddle.

So, as we all know, the coin has two sides. On the one side he is terrified I am going to disappear in a puff of smoke, and on the other side, he wants me nowhere near him – that way, he saves himself from too much hurt the day that I do disappear (which isn’t on my to do list!).

Most of these little quirks disappear when we are on neutral ground. We are away next week, and apart from stroppiness (which could just be character) I am expecting a fun week.

So, they are the negatives, the positives are flowing too – his drawing and expressing himself through drawing is coming along brilliantly, he has just got his 10m swimming badge and is loving the new swimming club and is holding his own nicely with children a couple of years older. He is loving the great outdoors and getting more adventurous with what he will climb, hold (ie worms), go near.

And here are a few pics of a little boy with a whole heap of emotions going on in his head – enjoying the freedom from worry that only outside adventures can bring.