International Parenting Commitment Day - March 20

The 10 Commitments | Parenting Resolutions | Commitment Celebrations/Rituals
Committed Parent of the Month | Arranging a Parenting Workshop
Organizing a Book Study | Parenting Newsletter

Parent of the Month

CUTTING EDGES AND GIFTS

Bill Decker

“It’s not okay to threaten your little sister with a knife.”

Those were my words as I walked out of my older daughter’s bedroom. My tone was firm, yet not blaming. My words were clear, and limits were stated.

I was doing everything right. Why was I shaking? Why did I feel so helpless? Why was I so scared? How did we get to this place? How could this be happening in my family?

Both of our daughters were adopted from Thailand. We adopted the second when she was about 12. She had lived since infancy in an orphanage outside of Bangkok. Our first daughter was 5 when her big sister moved in.

As our new daughter learned English, she slowly revealed stories of her life. In her innocence, she told us tales of great caring mixed with horrors that no child should have to endure. She was a survivor. She was not ready for the dynamics and intimacies of a family.

From day one she thought her sister was spoiled beyond belief. Why didn’t we beat her when she did something wrong? What was the big deal with just losing privileges? She decided to take things into her own hands. But threatening with knives and cleavers is just not acceptable in our family.

As I left her room, her last words rang in my ears: “I kill you all tonight!”

Downstairs, my wife was on the phone with our daughter’s counselor. She told us that if we were afraid to sleep in our own home we needed to do something and suggested having her committed to the adolescent psych unit for evaluation. She said we’d be sending a very concrete message about what is acceptable behavior and what is not.

Soon I found myself bear-hugging, restraining, and carrying down the stairs an 85-pound snarling, kicking, and terrified ball of fury. She bit my hand until it bled. My wife drove the van.

I was scared. I was furious. I was in a movie. How could this be happing in my family?

The first four weeks she was in the hospital she refused to talk with or even look at us. Her whole attitude, the attitude of a survivor, was that we were wrong. It was our fault. We were the bad ones doing this to her. We needed to change.

Since the adoption had not been finalized, we struggled over whether to proceed or not. If she was not willing to take responsibility for her actions, if she would not work on communicating or developing self-awareness, would it be safe to take her back into our family? Was she so damaged by her early life experiences that “normal” family life was impossible for her? Were we willing to restructure our life to become a therapeutic community for her if she would not or could not change?

The discussions, the decisions, the emotions were grueling and gut-wrenching.

We decided to terminate the adoption

The international adoption agency was contacted. They purchased the tickets. The flights were arranged. Our daughter’s possessions were boxed up and ready to go. I was traveling on business when my wife went to tell her.

The next day we both went to visit her. We found a child so dejected she looked like her bones and been pulled out. She dragged her long black hair over her face to hide the fact that she’d been crying for the past 24 hours. She gave us the good-bye gifts she had spent the day making for us.

With the prodding of her counselor, she parted her hair and, avoiding eye contact, said, “I sorry. I not do again.” A small step. A hug step. The words – what did they mean to her? Did she understand them, or was she just mouthing them?

We decided to trust. We terminated the termination. But it took two more weeks before we were confident enough to bring her home. To try again.

It has been four years since we made that decision. It has taken tremendous amounts of work: hours of talking, strict limits with consistent consequences, blood, sweat, tears, and help from extended family, counselors, teachers, and friends. But there have been pleasant surprises and celebrations. In those four years our daughter’s delightfulness and sweet spirit have often skinned forth. They complement her survival skills.

Recently she was talking with me about boys. She was sharing a depth of self-awareness I had doubted she’d ever be able to achieve or express. I wondered if she could reflect with equal self-awareness on her time in the hospital. I asked her. She replied, with a simplicity of language that achieved elegance, “It was good, Dad. I begin change.” My eyes teared up. Waves of relief, a relaxations, a satisfaction washed over me. A guilt I had not even known I was carrying eased.

Where else but in the family do we get so many opportunities to go through the crucible – so many chances to co-create miracles?

Committed Parent of the Month Nominations

Please send nominations for Committed Parent of the Month to ipp57@aol.com. Each month a new parent will be selected who has demonstrated an active commitment to his or her family. The winner will be displayed on the www.10commitments.net website and will be moved to the Committed Parent of the Month archives the following month.