“Management is nothing more than motivating people,” claims Lee Iacocca. I’ve mentioned before that I read management, leadership and coaching books just for fun; because essentially that’s what a mother does…we manage, lead, motivate, encourage, and inspire our children to become winners and leaders.

It is just more difficult when one is parenting traumatized children, not only did we lose out on their early formative years, but damage was done in such a primal manner then, where their needs were not met, when they were abandoned, abused and neglected.

First, we need to teach them that they are now safe, and then we work on stability, security, trust, and love. I put love last only because it won’t come from the children without the aforementioned needs being met.

I’m not the bubbly cheerleader type; rather I’m the more annoying second cousin to that in that I am always enthusiastic, quite irritating to those family members who prefer to wear their traumas on their sleeves.

“No go Joe,” is often my automatic response to those who prefer to grump around my house, “put a smile on your face,” I insist while following it up with some comment on their beauty or their handsomeness; constantly building them up, while also persistently attempting to replace the negative behaviors with positive ones.

I read, with great interest, all the blogs about the early stages of adoption such as the home study, the discussions, and the learning process, but I live with the reality of what happens later. The stark and unmitigating pain that arrives when the children do, even babies feel grief at losing a familiar caretaker. Then there are the new families with their unique smells, touches, rules, foods, homes, routines and everything else that constitutes an environment, a new one at that to children who’ve immediately lost all they’ve ever known, be it good or bad.

I’m learning, it seems, as if no child is ever properly prepared for adoption, nor how could they be? Nor is a parent, especially parents who adopt older children. Every single day I’m learning something new, something surprising, something I might should have seen coming, but didn’t, and always the unexpected must be dealt with in the context of family.

I wake up with a start some nights, thinking I heard something unusual, going downstairs to check, always on edge for yet another problem or issue, finding great relief when all is well, but I’m knowing I’m just a phone call, or a turn of event, away from another calamity to go through.