"I turned it around"

Tired of hearing about my kids? Yeah, I SO don't care. Our journey is still very far from over, but BOY have the last few weeks been eventful.

My RADish has just continued to escalate. She (I can say "she" now, with her permission) has hit an all-time high in the RAD department. My weekend getaway, followed by a lot of hard work in therapy had her behind a very thick metaphorical wall. The biggest wall she has yet to build between the two of us. On the other side, she had actually changed physically. She was literally making herself sick.

Yesterday I had one of those moments where I was trying to decide between giving her NO attention (as she was seeking negative attention) or showing compassion or just saying what was really on my mind.

I said what was really on my mind.

I did not yell. I remember thinking, "Loving eyes, Christine. LOVING EYES!" I verbally walked her through her day. I have no idea if the eyes stayed loving, but I do remember that I did not yell (and I keep saying that, because it was really, really, really hard not to yell!!). I reminded her that she can always have control, but it's either attempting to control others or taking control of herself. One pushes people away (also comes with a buttload of restrictions and misery). The other is when you control yourself and your behaviors so that you draw people close (also earning trust, more privileges and fun).

I think the last thing I said was something like, "I promise you that I love you so very much that I will always be here to give you what you choose to have - if you want to be in charge and have more stinky days, or if you want to control yourself and enjoy life."

That's when I saw it. It may be that only RAD parents can understand this: I saw real tears. See, my kid can make herself cry and it is immediate and HUGE crocodile tears. Absolutely amazing how she can do this. Yet these were just barely creeping from her eyes. She didn't do the dramatic sweeping of the eyes and the huffing, puffing cry. She had an emotion and responded to it. Soft, sweet, genuine tears slowly made their way to the surface and eventually down her cheeks.

She swept up her math page and did every single solitary problem exactly perfect, smiled through it and pointed out to me the parts she loved (she had spent the previous 45 minutes pretending to not have a clue what she was doing - one of her favorite ways to slow down her day and have control).

When she finished, she actually VERBALIZED to me that she CHOSE to "turn it around" (thank you, Jordan, for teaching my daughter this thought process through your blog!). The tiniest of moisture wet her eyes again. Without any prompting from me, she said, "I'm very proud of myself." I was squealing, of course, and hugging. "Yes, you turned it around. You SHOULD be proud of yourself!" Then, through sweet tears and an actual for-real smile, she said the one thing that I will never forget for as long as I live on this earth:

"I rocked the Casbah."

How funny and wonderful and hysterical is THAT?

Oh my goodness, will we still have regression and bad days. My other attachment challenged child has already had his 24 hours of punishing me for daring to make him feel love for me. It's such a process.

Yet, on the bad days, I will now look back to remember that they always have the ability within them (and the desire - even if they're fighting it) to rock the Casbah.