RAD: A post from my old blog
This has undoubtly been the hardest year, parenting wise that I’ve ever experienced. I’ve been through alot with my other kids, but G takes the cake, runs a mile down the road with it, shoves it down her throat, then runs back home to tell us that she doesn’t know where the cake is…..while the chocolate is down her shirt and on her face. She does all of this with a sadistic smile on her face that has been described to me, by a teacher, as evil.
It is hard to have people come up to me and tell me how great G is and how bright she is and how lucky we are to have her to raise because she is “one of the few” normal children from the foster care system. It is hard for me not to open my mouth and spew forth all the crap that I deal with on a daily basis. If I do say something, out of the ordinary for this precious, perfect child, then I am looked at like I have 3 heads. They don’t see it, they don’t understand it.
I am tired.
I have not found a good discipline to use with her….nothing works. Take away toys, she is willing to give them away; take away movie privileges, she will sit in the hall or her room and sing at the top of her lungs; deny her dessert for supper and it isn’t a problem; time out, no problem…she sits in there and sings sings sings. She has no play skills, so no toys hold any value for her. She likes what she likes and that is being someone that she is not. Her “bent” is singing and drama. Where we live, we are limited, but so often, she gets that privilege taken away because of her behaviour.
God is my refuge and my strength.
I get so tired of hearing “send her back”, “spank her”, “ignore her behaviour”…I get lots of uninvited parenting advice from experts on my child when they have A) never been around her; B) only seen her at her honeymoon stage; C) have no children with no disabilities. I’ve never spoken to a mom of a RAD kid….never. I have scoured the internet, I have cried and I have prayed. This is my trial. I am to give joy to God for allowing him to refine me and grow my fruit. There are days when I want to throw my fruit back at him. Today is that day.
God is my provider in times of need.
We have struggled with G since moving, 3 weeks ago. Her therapist is no help, her SW doesn’t know what to do, my
R & C worker thinks we should send her to respite (a “babysitter” of sorts) provider. I don’t feel at peace with that because RAD kids tend to “overexaggerate” any and everything and there is no telling what would come out of her mouth. That and whatever progress we made is typically lost when she is away from the structure of home.
I want to love her. I want to give her my whole heart. I just don’t know if I have what it takes anymore.