Anger Issues...

So TJ's angry phase continues...

Yesterday, he decided he would like to eat his lunch in class - during a lesson.

Obviously, his teacher wasn't having any of that and she told him to put his lunchbox away, he did - but only after throwing a chocolate biscuit at her...

After he had thrown the biscuit he then ran out of class and ran away from school. Luckily the Head saw him from her window and raced after him - although, as the school gates were locked, I'm not sure where he would have gone. But TJ often finds places to hide if things don't go his way.

Like the time he fell out with Papa at a major shopping centre and told him he was going to look for a new family - so he ran and hid in Marks and Spencers. It was 20 minutes before we and the entire shopfloor staff located him. When I did find him I just held him as he sobbed into my arms.

Likewise, yesterday, after I had chatted with the Head Teacher and TJ had apologised to his class teacher for throwing a biscuit at her, as soon as we left the building TJ collapsed into floods of tears.

Something's going on.

Then I remembered a couple of things - well, to be honest, my Mum reminded me - Mum's are good at that. Whilst we are 'celebrating' the fact that it was four years this week that the boys were placed with us permanently, TJ may not see it as a cause for celebration - it reminds him that he is different from his friends, that he is adopted and it's an unfortunate reality that in school he is now reaching the age where being adopted means that you obviously weren't wanted by your 'real' family and that his friends are likely to be reminding him of this - especially after the fall outs he had last week. It could also explain his anger towards me - I'm not a 'mum' but I do 'mum' stuff. At 9years old everything is gender specific - we fight against it, naturally, reminding him that girls can be good at football and boys are allowed to play with dolls etc - but, as I am learning, even in this day and age, not all parents do the same thing. I've heard other Dad's (and I'm ashamed to say it does seem to be the fathers who are guilty of this) telling their sons not to be 'sissys' or to 'man up' - I love that phrase. I wonder how much of this is then being repeated to TJ by their sons.

I think further investigation is required - but it does make sense.

Also, we are due to visit Papa's family in Singapore next week for Chinese New Year - as my Mum pointed out, despite all the excitement of going away and seeing his grandparents, deep down TJ hates leaving home - he would stay in the house all day if he could - or at least only go as far as the park. I guess my Mum is right (she'll love me for saying that) - everytime we leave home, no matter where to or for how long, TJ gets upset - he can't cope. Deep down he must associate leaving home with being moved, either from birth family or from foster carer to foster carer. No matter how young he was when he was taken into care the memories of 'leaving' are deep seated.

So, whilst lots of lovely friends told us to 'celebrate' our four year anniversary together - to celebrate our life as a family - we didn't. They don't need reminding that they came to live with us - that might only remind them that in order to do so they had to leave somewhere else.

We'll find other things to celebrate - Chinese New Year seems the most obvious - although I think we will have to keep it low key - too many people just overwhelm him...

KC on the other hand - he loves the attention - but maybe that just masks something else... (actually, I don't think so - I think he just loves it!)

Sometimes we can be guilty of reading too much into our children's behaviours - but sometimes we get it right...

Or rather Mum does.

Post Adoption Blues?

Every now and again I feel the need to share something that leans toward the more serious side of adoptive life.

After my piece on being a stay at home dad I was surprised by how many people, both Mums and Dads, wrote to me expressing their own thoughts - most felt the same and were happy that the issue was being raised.

But one of the things about being a stay at home parent - or having stay at home parenting thrust upon you is the sudden negatvitiy that fills your life.

I don't think I was suffering from post adoption depression - maybe I was - its more common than a lot of people think but its a condition that many adopters (and I'm sure birth parents) feel incredibly guilty for feeling.

We spent over two years in the adoption process - fighting homophobia, running aroun the country following leads about possible children only to have doors slammed in our faces. When we eventually found our two boys we were elated - but then we spent 18months fighting for the funding and the rights that these two horribly abused little boys deserved.

Finally, after nearly four years we got our adoption order and we became a family. Then the real problems started - as the boys settled so it became apparent that I couldn't work and I had to stay at home - I could never earn the sort of money Papa could, so my career actually took a back burner purely because of the financial rewards.

So now I found myself at home spending each day waiting for the phone call telling me that I needed to go into school, for whatever reason, or simply waiting for the boys to come home.

If I wasn't called into school then it was considered to be a successful day - so a successful day was one where I wasn't required... That doesn't fill you with a great sense of self.

There are days when I would sit looking out of the window wondering why we had done this. Papa was now stressed as his was the only income, I was losing my sense of self and the boys were trying to discover who these strangers were that they now called their parents and how they fitted into our lives. We had to move home as the boys needs were too great for out little house - thats stressful in itself...

I felt I was losing everything - I'd lost the house I'd loved and made into a home, I was losing my relationship, I wasn't being this amazing 'super' parent that the TV programmes and self help books get us to strive for. I was disappearing into a vat of homework, fish fingers and bedtime stories. Papa is rarely home before the boys are in bed so as soon as he got through the door he would go upstairs to do his goodnight routine whilst I cooked his dinner - from 4.30 till 8pm each week night I am cooking... luckily I like cooking and decided to use this as a way of maintaining my sanity.

Then it was a bit of TV - I watch that whilst Papa finishes off whatever work he still has to do and then its bed - exhausted we crash and then up at 6.30 to begin it all again.

I couldn't tell anyone how I felt - after all as soon as you start to complain people are quick to point out that you chose to adopt, you chose this lifestyle - you chose this... and thats when you start to feel guilty.

Yes you did choose this - in fact you fought for it - but once the dust settles you realise that the choices you made didn't give the results you expected. I didn't choose those...

Life does that...

So I punished myself for feeling sorry for myself and in turn I punished my family - not physically but mentally - I was so angry for so much of the time. Angry at everyone else but myself... and that anger got in the way of our bonding as a family.

I learned to channel that anger - into my writing I hope - but its only now that I can admit that I was actually angry at all... I don't like who I became but I hope that I will learn to love my new role and learn to love the person I will become... a good father and husband... and maybe a better writer!

Defiance!!!!!!!

Aaaaaargh!

What a way to start a new week.

TJ has gone back to absolutely defying me in every aspect. I just can't seem to get anything right.

He went to school today and was fine this morning but since he has come home he has been a nightmare.

Even walking back he was angry. He didn't care if it was raining, he didn't care his coat wasn't done up. His hands were cold - which was obviously my fault. He got home soaked and then stood in the doorway and blamed me for his being wet through.

I took him upstairs to change - but he refused to undo his shirt buttons. I had to do them as his shirt was too wet and his hands were too cold.

Thne he threw his lunchbox at me, followed by his schoolbag.

I picked up his tie from the floor. The same tie that Lea had used last year but now it had been ripped apart - completely destroyed.

"How did this happen?' I demanded. I was met with the infuriatingly annoying 'shrug of the shoulders'.

"I want to know how this happened!" I was getting angry but trying to remain patient.

"I was someone in after school club," came the reply.

"You haven't been to after school club! You are at home!" I think even the logic of this had escaped him.

"Then it happened when I took it off.'

"How, how can simply taking off your tie rip it up?" I was trying my best to stay calm.

"I don't know - its just a rubbish tie."

I know the adoption counsellors are screaming 'attachment' at me and telling me he is angry with himself and I know that he wants me to shout at him, that he wants me to get so angry I could spank him (I don't) but he seems to want to push me there at the moment. I also know that for him this will vindicate everything he knows about 'parents' - they get cross and are mean to their children - and at the same time this will re-inforce his own low self esteem and feelings that he is only worthy to be shouted at.

I know all that - so why do I still want to put him over my knee? After all it didn't do me any harm... or did it? I guess the jury is out.

So I have sent him to practise his piano, then we will do his reading... but there will be no TV or computer games and if we can't mend his tie then he will be buying a new one tomorrow with his pocket money.

Perhaps if he keeps getting into trouble I can keep sending him into his room with only his piano for company. In years to come he will be on TV after starring in the Last Night of The Proms - bemoaning his awful parents who made him practise whenever he was naughty... and how the only good thing that came out of his life was his piano playing career. (I watched the Liberace movie the other week - the parallels are there!)

Mind you, on Saturday instead of watching 'X Factor' TJ actually did want to watch the Proms and sat through it all asking what the different instruments were and who was playing what - that was quite something to watch and I thought we had bonded a bit... oh well...

So he is playing waltz on his keyboard and the logical 'consequences' side of my brain have been satisfied... but the emotional 'angry' side of my brain also needs placating.... so rather than 'getting the strap out (as my Dad often threatened but never did) I have made a cup of tea and am telling you!

This isnt a blog - its therapy!!!!!!!!