After about 6 months of being home I started to notice some consistent behaviors that I could no longer attribute to a language barrier. These are in no particular order, just as I think of them. These behaviors also seem insignificant. Which is why I didn't really know that there was a problem.
We will start with rocking. This is a typical behavior of children in orphanages. It is a comfort and soothing mechanism for them. It is recommended that when they begin to rock that you cuddle with them and rock them. Victoria's rocking never looked soothing but I guess it was. She would rock lying down going from side to side with her arms stretched out and hands clasped together. This was not slow and gentle. It was fast and furious. So whenever I saw her rocking I would cuddle with her and encourage her to stop. I spent hours doing this. However, this seemed to only encourage her rocking. This will be a recurring theme in my life that took me far too long to pick up on: the more I told her not to do something the more she did it. When I would rock her she would have a huge smile on her face but her eyes seemed empty.
Her smile complicated, complicates, my life.
As time went on the rocking became less about comfort and more about attention. She could control the rocking if she wanted and it became a power struggle in which she won both ways. So you are thinking just ignore it, right? So difficult. Every morning as I combed her hair it would be a ball of tangles from a night of rocking. She didn't even need to tell me and I know she felt empowered by it. I tried to praise her when I know she didn't rock and it didn't seemed to make a difference.
Toilet training. I anticipated some delays but this was so much more. So she had "accidents" often. She was wearing pull ups for nearly the first year or more that she was home. She was always needing help getting on and off the toilet (with a step stool). This small act became a source of contention because at times she needed no help. I was especially sensitive to this as someone who wet the bed when I was an older child and have memories of an impatient parent. I recall that certainly when I was younger it was not intentional. So we limited her drinks at night (as you will see later this seemingly normal act was a nightmare), made sure she went to the bathroom before bed, occasionally woke her up in the middle of the night and from a doctors recommendation, had her delay going to the bathroom to strengthen what might be weak muscles.
So, she would tell me she needed to go to the bathroom and I would try to delay it by giving her something to do or entertain her for a while. Yes, then, she needed to go to the bathroom ALL the time. I didn't pick up on it initially that she was doing it for the attention. The only thing I was picking up on was how irritating it was. So when I stopped entertaining her she just stood there and wet her pants.
She would wet the bed and be soaked from her head to her toes. She would often not pee in the bed until I went to wake her up in the morning.
Telling her she couldn't have a drink after 7pm only encouraged her to do everything she could to get a drink and lots of it after 7pm. She would sneak out of bed, find a drink anywhere. The sink, the tub, the kitchen, the toilet. Incredulous. I must tell you at this point, as there are far more troubling behaviors than this, is I had no idea what was going on. I saw it as blatant and intentional disobedience. I wish I could say that I suspected other motivating factors but I simply didn't.
Her lying was incessant and crazy. She would lie about eating candy and the wrappers would be all around her. I couldn't trust anything she did or anything she said.
She was always sneaking. Sneaking food, toys, drinks, anything that she was told not to. This among other things was increasing my anxiety.
She was obsessed with drinks. She wanted any drink and lots of it. Initially I had to practically force feed her. ( I see now that was a control issue). And now while the drink issue has subsided, it has been replaced with food.
She demanded my attention all the time. She would talk unceasingly about nothing. It was constant chatter and senseless. In the car, everywhere. I couldn't tell her to be quiet, that just fueled the fire.
Destructive. She didn't value anything. She would destroy toys, her clothes, things that after 3 boys I thought were unbreakable. It made me not want to give her anything.
Destructive. She didn't value anything. She would destroy toys, her clothes, things that after 3 boys I thought were unbreakable. It made me not want to give her anything.
There are many, many more but I need something to write in my book and I simply think it is too lengthy here. But what I want to convey is that all of these seemingly normal difficult behaviors were coming from a very destructive place. I couldn't make sense of it, but I felt it. And sadly, I was reacting to all of it.
I was taking such care to nurture her and care for her emotionally despite (what I know now) were controlling and survival techniques. But to me they just felt hateful, damaging and intentional. The most difficult part I think was that there wasn't ever any remorse for the turmoil she was causing. I wasn't having any tender feelings toward Victoria and I needed to figure out what was going on. So, first I talked to family and friends.
