Parenting a child who has experienced trauma using Love to Nurture, or any trauma informed parenting model, is highly
counter-intuitive. In moments of less
than desirable behavior ranging from meltdowns to the silent treatment, you are
asked to remain calm and look at behavior as a symptom of a problem rather than
the problem itself. I attempt to
communicate what this feels like to new foster parents constantly, giving as
many personal examples from parenting our own children as possible. I love story-telling and believe it can be
the best teacher. Yet somehow, in doing
so, I have inadvertently portrayed that “Living Love to Nurture” is easy and comes
naturally to me...something another foster parent shared. I want to clear that up.
There are times that I, like every parent on planet earth,
want to pull my hair out, scream, cry, or both simultaneously. Sometimes I fear that if I don’t make the
exact right parenting decision in a moment of crisis, my child’s life will be
ruined forever. I ask Matthew, “Are we
the worst parents ever?”
In my unregulated, frazzled state as a parent, I want to do
crazy strict things. Here’s an example:
Last week I wasn't sure I could trust one of my kids
(hereafter referred to as “said child” because really, who wants their mom
blogging about stuff like this) and my fear left me tempted to spy on them. I imagined catching said child in their lie,
springing out from behind a bush with a declarative, “A-HA!” A look of guilt and shame would come across
said child’s face; bursting into tears convicted of the wrong they had committed
by lying to their mother, our bond never to be broken again…
But back in the real world, I had to pause, take a few deep
breaths, and think: Do I really want to
be the “spying mom” and if so, what will that accomplish? When my child finds out (which they most
definitely will) will our relationship be stronger or weaker? If I don’t spy, how can I address my lack of
trust with said child? Have I created a
situation in which deception is easier than honesty?
I called my husband.
“Why don’t you just ask said child if they are lying to
you?”
He’s a genius.
I began the conversation with said child by confessing my fears and
temptation to spy on them. I shared my desire
for a relationship based on openness and trust. Said child shared that they were telling the truth, not with defensiveness or
anger, but a look-you-in-the-eye honest way. We discussed strategies for moving forward and began a dialogue on how to
strengthen my trust in a particular area of said child’s life. One of the worst feelings is knowing when someone doesn't trust you but not having a way out. What a hopeless place. My children have experienced too much
hopelessness in this life for me to inflict any more. I need to be part of
their path out.
I share this story to illustrate that we all suffer from “bad
mommy” moments no matter the age or how our children came into our lives. Love to Nurture parenting does not come
naturally for me, and I screw it up all the time. My secret, the reason perhaps it can look
effortless is that I have committed to practice every day. I have committed to breathe before I act or
speak, to question myself and my own motivations, and to always begin tense
conversations with questions or as St. Francis of Assisi puts it “seeking to
understand rather than be understood”. None of these commitments are easy, but I have learned that practice and
consistency pay off.
Be encouraged, you can do this.
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