Here’s the thing about this blog: if you have no children in your life with developmental trauma, you may not get this blog. You may even think we are lousy parents (in truth we are certainly not perfect, but neither are we lousy). If you do have special little people in your life who have suffered early trauma, you might read and nod your head, or laugh or cry, or go, “Mmm hmmm”. And you are also well acquainted with the loneliness, isolation and frustration that only sister trauma-mamas understand. I have no answers, but it may make you feel just a bit lighter to know you are not alone.
With the best of intentions, my husband and I took in two foster sons, ages 19 months and 3 years, when our biological sons were 5 and 6 years old. When the adoptions were finalized, we found ourselves with four adorable little boys, ages 7, 6, 4 and 2.
We bought a minivan and a Costco membership, and, except for Baby curiously trying to hightail it with strangers every five minutes, all went swimmingly… for a while…
Currently the lads are 17, 15, 14 and 12.
We love them fiercely.