The kids had a birthday this weekend and we met the family for breakfast.
It was weird, but good. I think.
Everyone was very respectful.
Poor Lyberty was about to crawl out of her skin with stress, which took the form of screaming, sliding onto the floor-under the table. Hitting the people behind us with her balloon. Being belligerent. Being gross. Trying to stand on her head. Yikes!
When we left she was running in the parking lot. Wandering. She couldn’t focus. It was like her brain was full of static and her body couldn’t help but flush out the amount of flight or fight she was feeling.
It nearly broke my heart. And I nearly broke her wrist trying to keep her close to all of us.
Raja did better. He was a little squirrely, but not too bad.
The rest of the day was a bit stressful. They seemed to be listening less than usual (which is to say, not at all). They were sad and angry and sad and silly.
This is one of the most challenging placements we’ve ever had. Still, it feels right. I know we made the right choice saying yes. Even if I’d gladly give up most any day. Does that make sense? It’s really hard, but it’s still good? It doesn’t feel good, but I know it is? I don’t really feel in love with them, but I love them and it’s undeniable?
Anyway. It was all OK in the end. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good. But it was OK. And the kids made it through their birthday with little more emotional scarring. They got lots of great gifts. We got to show them that not all surprises are bad ones and that people love them-even if they don’t believe it yet. Success.