A month ago you moved into my home and found yourself a little corner of my heart to call your own. Learning to parent a daughter has been amusing to say the very least, you like dolls, tea parties and lip gloss. You are definitely nothing like your brothers although you can hold your own with them as though you had lived together your whole lives. You love to read and would love to play Candy Land or Snakes and Ladders all day if I was willing.
You inspire and infuriate me on a daily basis.
Your resilience and desire to be a member of this family inspires me. Your understanding of your needs and your ability to express them make me wonder if you are really only 6. You can tell us why your make the choices you make, you can spout therapeutic language like a professional and you know that what you really need is to learn to trust that we are going to love you and keep you safe. You are working on learning to trust us, I know it will not happen over night and in the mean time your ability to infuriate makes me crazy.
On Saturday in about 30 minutes you figured out how to use an adjustable wrench to loosen the bolts on the poles for the safety net on the trampoline causing them to fall one at a time as your brothers jumped on the trampoline. I was less than impressed. You can push your brothers buttons in a way that only younger sister can. You behave poorly with other kids when you feel stressed so that adults will intervene and help you regulate your emotions. You ignore our rules and try to get away with murder when ever you think that you might be successful. You break toys and steal things you want to have.
And yet when you get busted, you always come clean in the end. You lie first, again and again you will lie and then eventually you come clean. Your guilt takes over and you come and tell me. Sometimes I knew you did it and other times I had no idea but I can't let you know that because if I did you might never fess up again.
Your desire to become the child you were meant to be inspires me to keep going, inspires me to keep pushing ahead even when it seems as though you have done your very best to push me over the edge.
You are a scared, traumatized kid trying to make her way in a world that has taught you that you will not be safe if you are vulnerable child.
Kate, it's okay to be a kid, I will keep you safe. I promise.