I love it when readers actually comment on my blogs; it gives me opportunities for reflection. One reader asked if I was open to suggestion…and believe me I am…after parenting LuLu for nearly 9 years and still looking for answers in so many ways, I’m open.

But (you knew there’d be a “but” right?), I can’t help but wonder at what point LuLu’s own personal responsibility needs to kick in. LuLu is clearly disabled. She is clearly a product of her past trauma of 20 months in a Chinese orphanage. She is clearly a product of whatever unexplainable mixture of genetics, neglect, poor nutrition, lack of stimulation, and likely sexual abuse that occurred prior to our adoption. It’s easy when you stack all that up to recognize that she is severely hindered by it all. That IS the easy part. The hard parts are determining what’s going to happen next and what to do about it.

One reader suggested that perhaps Super Dad could have totally prevented this latest explosion by helping her find me. Perhaps. Except that when she asked him my whereabouts she wasn’t agitated, she just asked him if he’d seen me. And I had clearly told her earlier in the morning exactly what was on my agenda and yes she could help. She, however, was busy playing (something she used to not be able to do well) when I started my outside chore, so I didn’t want to interrupt her. If Super Dad has realized that she was escalating, then yes, he likely would have gone on the hunt for me. Instead, she exploded in a whole other part of the house, kicking the dog and then running back upstairs to begin kicking the wall. That’s when Super Dad heard her…and he had no idea what the trigger was.

The readers then commented on whether consequences and restitution were necessary, important or even detrimental in this situation. Having lived with that discussion in my head for years, I have some decided opinions on that. In the beginning of parenting LuLu we were overwhelmed by her behaviors. We sought answers from traditional parenting outlets and tried every intervention in the mainstream we could find. Nothing worked. As she’s grown, and we’ve grown as parents, we’ve discovered that any direct consequence we applied at the time of misbehavior ALWAYS escalated the situation. So we always ended up with two smashed whatevers instead of the one. As much as we disliked the idea of what seemed to be “allowing” her misbehavior, eventually we got it through our thick heads that this was a big part of her disability. We understand the feelings of shame she experiences that feed her already extremely negative self-image. So immediate consequences, which were often processed as threats, were stopped years ago.

But (there’s that word again), that’s different from restitution. This was a concept I could never effectively teach the folks at the school system and was probably one of the biggest stumbling blocks for them. They could not seem to understand that I didn’t want them to “punish” her. I didn’t want them to move her clip to the red light or any other symbolic way of designating that she was being “consequenced”. The teacher did (after nearly 3 years of having her in the class) realize that this type of behavior modification ALWAYS made things worse.

So once they stopped consequencing her, there was also never any restitution either. She could explode all over the classroom, tearing up things and once she calmed down life went back to normal. That’s when a different side my daughter’s complex disabilities started showing. She needs the restitution. It’s a must. Something inside of her cries out to be able to “fix” it.

The act of restitution is oddly comforting for LuLu. She always protests about it; what kid wouldn’t? But deep inside she wants to do it. To contribute to the family on a positive level. On Saturday she did all that was asked for her to earn chore money toward the wall repair. Yesterday she willingly cleaned her bathroom quickly and was a joy to be around. Her healing and development is at a point where there are many days she’s a joy to be around, and many others where her explosions are short-lived and then what she terms “the real LuLu” shines the rest of the day.

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