Happy Ever After

There's nothing headline that says things have changed or moved forward. No one tells you, you don't wake up but you do begin to notice. You start and end the day with a smile on your face, you look at the clock and feel pleased that its nearly 3pm. You go to the park and laugh, woop and clap because you can. You genuinely enjoy time just being a family. 

You start to know and understand what to expect, what's hungry related, tired related or something's-really-up-but-I-cant-bare-to-talk-about-it related. We've continued to pull the sad out of toes when we're feeling bad or mad. We've moved from biting, scratching, punching and spitting to"OK Mummy, you're just and idiot" this is real progress. 

No one has trashed a room, strangled a dog or beaten the crap out of a sibling for a full three weeks [makes contact with wood].

We've survived Mummy's birthday, a routine medical, spelling tests, a be-bright-be-seen mufty day and Harvest Festival. Complete with church, cans if beans, a coach, singing and a man in a dress! 

Everyday my love grows. Everyday the bond grows, everyday I learn something new but something else becomes more familiar which is equally as rewarding.

Tonight we read a book called Happy Ever After and I stopped to ask each of them what they're happy ever after looked like. One included Dalmatians and a pink car, another his soft warm bed, books and pizza and another 'everyone being together and being kind and happy'.

Little voices only tell what's true.

Misconceptions

Talking to friends tonight it struck me just how overwhelmingly we've been supported by our local school. Coming to parenthood via adoption you have lots of expectations. When I thought about school I imagined the playground would be a friendly place but I might struggle to get the teachers to understand the complex needs of children who had experienced early neglect and trauma. How wrong could I be?

The playground is a ferocious place. The fact I have just appeared from nowhere (nowhere meaning absent from any earlier years groups, clubs or nurseries) but having admitted that 'no, I have not just moved to the area' makes me a bit of a unknown. I don't want to share the children's life story with every single person who asks, it's not my story to tell, it's theirs, so they can choose who and what they say. Because of this, the playgrounders can't place me so I might as well not exist oh and to them my children are probably a bit strange. They don't run to me when they spot me at the end of a school day, they sometimes say 'strange' things when we're getting into the car ("I've been thinking a lot about the bad house today"), they've bitten, kicked and punched me in front of astonished parents for no reason other than the fact that they've probably fretted all day about whether or not I would even turn up to pick them up (something they were used to in the past). 

Mine is the daughter who got invited to the party and was brave enough to go for ten minutes. Whose other daughter gets up from story time to make loud animal noises and put her hands in the sand pit (just wanting to soak up every sensory experience she can in this new wonderland that is a classroom having been so void of early stimulation). Whose son runs from the room every time a tap is turned on having been scolded due to poor supervision.

The fact is I honestly care less about what any of them think than I thought I would. What matters to me so much more is the overwhelming support of all of the teachers, dinner ladies, care takers, receptionists and head teaching staff. After a difficult education meeting where the reality of just how much our children had been let down by the education system was laid out in front of us, I received a call from the acting headmaster. He said he understood it had been a difficult meeting but that 'for the record' he thought 'we were doing a great job' and that we were 'greatly admired by him and his team'. He also said he understood 'just how enormous an undertaking it was' to take on 3 children and most importantly that he knew 'we'd have good days and days that were total shit'. He wanted me to know that 'no matter what, there'd always be someone at school to have a cup of tea with us if we needed to chat or just rant about a difficult sock morning or a spelling meltdown' so 'to know they were there' and 'just pop in anytime'.

That was the first time since we met the children that I felt fully supported by anyone aside from Mr W. Since this time we've worked together, the children have been unobtrusively and unknowingly assessed and we know where we are. It is grim reading, my 53 month old daughter scores 8-20 months in her ability to make and maintain friendships, but we finally have a start point. Somewhere from which to begin.

Tomorrow we meet to discuss the support and funds needed to make up some of the earlier mistakes. Temporary cover is in place to ensure that class teachers can attend and knowing they're there with me makes such a difference.

Last week the children all dealt with a big week at school admirably. I was so so so very proud. They all managed to sing their little hearts out at Harvest Festival and then eldest daughter sprinted across the playground in my direction at pick up on Friday clutching a certificate from said deputy/acting headmaster. It said simply, Headmasters Certificate awarded to xxx  xxx for 'never giving up'. Well if the ferocious playground Mums didn't think that me and the tiddlers were crazy enough already we all whooped and skipped out of the playground just to prove we are. Took all my strength not to high five the headmaster as we went past. Never imagined a school could give them so much. Feeling very lucky and grateful.

Wouldn't change a thing

Sometimes you get chatting to someone you don't know well and they ask a question without realising its depth or poignancy.

"So, any regrets?" She said.

I stalled for a moment and really thought hard.

"No, none"

And as I carried my little big girl from my bed to hers tonight, I reminded myself that both those words were true.

We've had nittastrophes, tittastrophes and all manner of other unexpected highs and lows, but we're family. 

Nits

We have a nit infestation. Oh Lord. Before today, I had no idea what chaos this would create.

I stupidly attempted a 3 head at once eradication tonight on my own. Shan't be attempting that again single handedly. Absolute hysteria ensued and to be honest it was all understandable.  The smell of the treatment spray was enough to tip them over the edge let alone the the 3x hair wash (treatment, plus shampoo, plus conditioner and three times comb). We've worked so hard on bath time over the past 16 weeks and I worry this is really going to put us back.

10+ towels, 1 sodden bathroom, 3 traumatised children, one of which is asleep in my bed not her own (what would SS say!) and plenty of dead nits = a much deserved glass bottle of wine.

Taking a moment

After an eventful morning which included a 4.30 start to the day, I was feeling a little pooped post school run. Before I attempted to put the house back together I took a stroll round the garden and found these two beauties. Made me happy and reminded me to take a moment. The world is a far better place if you do. Breathe.