Shhhhh ... it's PMS week

*in a whisper*

For any of you doing the math, I did return from a long trip immediately as my traumatized daughter was nearing her hormonal week - doing more calculations - which is also when I am entering my own hormonal week. Because, when we do trauma, baby, WE DO TRAUMA.

*clears throat ... back to whisper*

So, we have had a few little bumps already. To stop me from ever traveling again (where I might possibly die and never return - and it is true what the experts tell you: that is the biggest fear driving those pre and post mom-leaves-the-house behaviors), we have had a library card deliberately sent through the washer and dryer, a few nonsense conversations, and plenty of misplaced or "lost" items throughout the house.

As the hormone level began to get whickity, we entered today with the discovery of a few undergarments being worn repeatedly without washing, as well as just ripping a gaping hole in the front of a shirt.

*kids walking through the room ... everyone act normal ... okay, they're gone*

We have simply given opportunity to find and relocate things that are amiss, provided ample time to run an extra load of laundry with those not-so-pleasant undies, we asked the librarian the cost of a replacement card, and gave the option of paying for a replacement shirt or paying mom to sew up the shirt.

We then talked about the shame. It is amazing to me how the hurt part lies to them, and they absolutely tune out anything they have ever heard or understood. My daughter believes she is gross. "Why are you gross?" "Because I do gross stuff!"

Ahh, but I'm a step ahead of that hurt-part lie. We backed it up. We hit rewind on her story. We discovered that, in fact, she does gross things because she ALREADY FELT SHE WAS GROSS!

*sorry ... got carried away ... must keep my voice down til the hormones pass*

She already thought she was gross. We talked through how a child develops attachment issues and how even though they cannot even talk, their body and their brain remembers that they did not get what they needed. Then, as they grow, they just assume their needs were not met because something was wrong with them. They must be gross, or ugly or disgusting. Because what other explanation could there be?



So, I gave my daughter that explanation. I will continue to give that to her over and over and over again. It was not her fault. She was adorable and amazing, but it was the circumstances around her that kept her from getting all she needed. She. is. not. gross.

We then made posters that said things like:

"Strong kids keep telling themselves the truth, even when they feel yucky."

"Strong kids have really big feelings, but make good choices anyway."

"When a strong kid feels gross, she reminds herself it is the hurt part and NOT THE TRUTH."

I keep us moving forward. We make repairs to what was done. I acknowledge that, in fact, there was true fear over me not returning home after my trip. I acknowledge the shame and the gross factor. But we fight for the truth. We repeat the truth. We literally write it on our doorposts (or print it on paper and stick it on the doorposts with tacky tape).

Then ... we keep moving forward.

*have a lovely day*