Often, as the mother of 39 children, it seems as if I run only on adrenaline. I don’t like it, I prefer serenity, a more tranquil environment, but such is not my life.

The term 'adrenaline junkie' came to my mind and I looked it up.

Originally, it was used to describe argumentative people who deliberately (consciously or unconsciously) find excuses to explode in order to get an adrenaline fix. After the adrenaline rush wears off, they become agitated, which causes them to seek another reason to explode to get another fix. This mode of receiving a fix is deemed just as addictive as a recreational drug (such as cocaine), but perhaps more harmful as it negatively involves other people.

An interesting definition as it describes some patterns of behavior in my children at times.

Children who’ve come out of chaos and confusion, who never knew where their next meal would come from, or even where they’d sleep, if their birth mom would be sober, their dad dangerous, the kids as well lived on adrenaline rushes as they tried to cope.

In an adoptive family there is an opposite living situation. There’s now stability, security, routine and structure. The kids do not quickly fall into place, but rather I often see them attempt to recreate the chaotic lifestyle that they seemed to only know. Familiar with the adrenaline rush, unfamiliar with a calm, serene family dinner, they’d soon stir something up.

We middle class adoptive parents are befuddled by this reaction and these behaviors, but I think it is important at least to recognize them in order to better deal with, and replace, these negative actions.

This article describes the hyper-aroused state that I see so often in my own family.

Although they appear outwardly calm, their resting heart rate may be as high as 140 - 160 beats per minute. They may experience the rush of adrenaline and a hyper-vigilant, heart-racing, breath-racing reaction of "fight, flight, freeze" in response to non-threatening situations at almost any time.

Tempers flare, words are exchanged, boundaries crossed and a situation arises again for me to deal with. “Calm down kids,” coming from me is as useless as if I’d tried to teach my best hen to read a book. Get real. I’ve discovered that it takes years, decades even, for a child to begin to learn to calm down, I’ve watched my older children get that same old wide-eyed fear in their eyes when a crisis occurs, even one of lesser proportions.

I used to want to change that behavior immediately, many years later I’m still learning that may not be possible, at best I can only hope to spend their adult lives with them also teaching them to cope with life and the curve balls they are thrown.

I need to model deliberate, thoughtful reactions to events. I need to make good choices and help them through decision making processes; I need to keep learning better ways to cope.