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Attachment and Trauma

This article was originally published on the Empowered to Connect website following last year’s ETC Conference in Denver.  As I am packing up to head home from Dallas following another great conference, I thought I would share this article here.  If you are visiting my blog for the first time after hearing me speak, thank you so much for stopping by.  I hope you will find help and hope on my site.  If you are a long time friend, I always appreciate you stopping by.

I would venture to guess that nearly every parent of a child from a “hard place” believes they have done it all wrong.  As the recent Empowered to Connect Conference came to a close, a dear friend shared that she and her husband were both hopeful and disheartened by what they had learned.   They held back tears of sorrow and regret as they wished they could go back and parent their children differently.  Russ and I have also wrestled with these thoughts and are saddened by the knowledge that some of our efforts likely increased our children’s trauma rather than bringing healing.


Playing puppies a couple of years ago.

While we are on the subject of “Who’s in Charge?” I’ve spent a little time talking with my daughters about the problem of meddling in the affairs of others and stirring up strife.  

[Disclaimer: I wrote this post in the early morning quiet, before any of my children woke up.  I nearly didn't post it after a particular child came downstairs, complained bitterly about everything, threw herself around the kitchen doing a poor job on her chore, fussed about the available food for lunch, and basically soured the morning for everyone.  Then I thought, "Well, at least I felt hopeful and happy for a little while this morning!" Sometimes we have to dig deep to find hope and happiness]

“Who’s in charge?”  I seem to be asking that question quite often lately.

My friend, Debbie Jones, recently shared a draft of her book with me that tells the amazing story of life with her son, Dane. It was a joy to read and I hope it will be published soon.  Debbie and her husband did a very intensive in-home treatment program with their son that followed the principles of TBRI in its earliest stages of development.

One of the things they did was ask Dane, “Who’s in charge?”

I think a lot about words.  Words have power, both written and spoken, so we have to be wise when we open our mouths or put our hands on the keyboard.  Earlier I wrote a post about using the word “and” rather than “but” when speaking to my children.  It is a good tool for me.

Here is another one.

Have you ever had somebody in your life who was difficult to like?  I’m not talking about love – love and commitment come naturally to me, especially when it involves a child. I’m going to go out on a big limb and confess that I have a child I love and am fiercely committed to, but sometimes genuine liking has been tough.  I know, some of you may gasp and think I’m a terrible mother, or perhaps you’ll understand but find it hard to believe that I am admitting it.

Christmas morning

“Use the word ‘and’ not ‘but’?”

I had to pause and think about that.

I took this photo of Dimples as she was getting ready to head out the door yesterday morning. She was decked out in the new scarf and hat from Eby and Little Man, and her new snow boots that came last week. She looked very cute, especially with the sweet smile on her face.

If you look closely, you might notice something else.

Thanksgiving break was tough for Dimples, and Christmas break is twice as long.  I spent a few weeks worrying about the break before it arrived.  Then I decided to get practical and make a plan.  Dimples loves school.  She loves being with friends, doing structured activities, having lots of movement and action.  She does not like having to figure out what to do with her time and is happiest when it is decided for her.

Changed Life

There she was, with her beautiful long hair, lying all alone in the uncomfortable, hospital bed.  She was dying of HIV/AIDS and unable to speak to me, I felt so much sorrow as I watched her lose weight because she could not eat.  In 2003, in Mekelle, Ethiopia, I was a six year old, second grader when this all happened.  Himonnet is my mother’s name and she was the best mom. Not because I say so, but because others also said so.  My mom used to laugh all the time and was good at comforting others.  This was the most difficult year that I ever had, that no one also could imagine.