love me tender.

First of all, we want to say thank you for the outpouring of support. Truly. Thank you. So many kind and empowering words and honest prayers and it really does make a world of difference. We haven't always "announced" the hills & valleys, but a six month absence is (super) significant and while our inner circle has been with us every step of the way, others were already noticing him missing in pictures/life/etc. (Again.)

That being said, I wanted to pause a minute for clarifications.
For those that don't realize, this was not an isolated incident or a knee-jerk reaction.  This was years of history... nine different med/dosage/combination attempts, seven school changes from kindergarten to 4th grade, behavior therapists, talk therapists, play therapists, equine therapists, attachment therapists, EMDR, naturopath, ion assesment, countless doctors and EEGs, MRIs, sleep educations, child development specialists, adoption training programs, one bajillion IEP adjustments, and hours upon hours of meetings with "the team". The current team includes two neurologists, two pediatricians, a geneticist, three psychiatrists, multiple therapists, two social workers, teachers/principals, a patient care coordinator, trusted spiritual advisors, us, AND CALE. Always Cale.

This was a step we have fought like hell to avoid for eight solid years, but after exhausting all other options and a continued increase in the intensity and duration of behaviors, safety HAD to come first. Before Cale's feelings, before our feelings, before any desires or hopes or experiments. Everyone had to be SAFE. Had to.

Again, we have not been silent about these struggles. We speak mainly in-person with those we trust, who care for us and who listen to understand. We were mostly publicly protective, in part because... well, none ya, but mostly to protect Cale- we would never want to taint anyone else's impression of him (he's precious) or their relationship with him (impossible for those who love him actually). And also to protect our sanity. You can't imagine how draining this is to live, but to have to defend yourself as a parent, to be judged or blamed for your child's behaviors, to exhaust yourself trying to convince someone that our reality IS our reality added unnecessary stress for so long.

However, it is such a huge chunk of our life that it did occasionally bleed over here, as you know.

**If you are a new reader and want to catch up, here are some highlights ... **
Cale. (2009)
Safety first. (2010)
Cale's first day. (2010)
Next steps. (2011)
Cale B. (2011)
The good, the bad, and the ugly. (2012)
The hard words explanded. (2013)
FASD awareness. (2013)
Adoption Part 1  (2013)
Back that thing up. (2014)
Prisoner of hope. (2014)
Loose lips sink ships... (after Cale's first inpatient psych stay) (2014)
April 2nd  (2016)

And a whole bunch I wasn't brave enough to publish.

Cale has a slew of letters behind his name now.
Autism (there is some debate about that- but it is still on paper.). ODD. FASD. DMDD (pediatric Bipolar), multiple learning disabilities, and RAD/PTSD.

He does pretty damn well considering all that is stacked against him, huh?! He really really does.

There are layers upon layers of Cale and each is working against the next. We call him a 'grey area kid'. There is so much going on in his "little" body and it all sort of runs together. It's hard to know what's what. Some of it is brain stuff- biology, physiology, genetics, etc. And some of it is heart stuff due to the trauma of adoption. And the heart stuff leaks to his brain and it's all very confusing.

He/we can't get to brain stuff to work on it because his little heart is too broken and he can't get to the heart stuff because brain doesn't allow him to process/connect what he knows. It's not fair.

His brain is a liar.

It tells him he isn't safe. It tells him to protect himself at all costs.
It tells him if he's "bad" enough, we'll leave too. So he goes ahead and tries to push us away. Hurt us before we can hurt him. Because he loves us so much...
I know it sounds backwards.

But HIS BRAIN IS A LIAR.

"Love Me Tender" is the name of another blog I have. It's where I first wrote honestly about how all of this shows up in our life. I didn't always spell it out but I alluded to a life with bruises and broken windows and desperation.

He was two at that time.

That's the first time I remember. I was terrified by what had just happened and so was he. I could see the fear in his eyes. He didn't understand what made him do what he'd just done. He still doesn't.

And he's so much bigger and stronger now...


For ten years, we have wished and prayed that we could get all Cale's people in one room.
All the experts we saw only focused on their own expertise, no real understanding of anyone else's. But he's a whole person and he needed whole person help. All of those people are in one room now and we are so grateful.

If Cale had a visible disease, a life-threatening medical condition... we would not dare to keep him at home all for ourselves and try to fix it. We would seek whatever help we had to. We would want the best we could find- the specialists and experts- and get the care he needed. Even if it meant he wasn't sleeping under our roof for a little while.  Same goes for mental health.

I said this already, but if love were enough, he would be healed. We love this child more than he will ever be able to comprehend.  Our family motto is and has always been "NO MATTER WHAT".
We aren't going anywhere. No. Matter. What.

We will continue to show up. We will continue to speak up. We will take every opportunity to hear his voice and hug his neck. We will let the judgements and gossip roll off our back like water. We will live life with strength and dignity and we will heal. No matter what.

If anyone wants to have genuine conversation about parenting kids from hard places, special needs parenting, trauma and PTSD, mental health, peace which surpasses understanding  ... we are happy to and always have been. Bring coffee and caramel M&Ms and let's talk and cry and laugh and pray and advocate and hug and try and roar.

Those were taken the night before he left. He knew he was leaving and he understood why. He wants to feel better, get better, and do better. He just doesn't know how and we've used every tool in our toolbox already.

That doesn't mean he hasn't struggled emotionally since arriving, he has had the sames ups and downs we all have. But overall, he's doing well. He enjoyed the ropes course in rec therapy this week and made a tie-dye tee shirt. He loves eating from a cafeteria where food is all hot and ready and he doesn't have to wait on it, ha. And tonight is a 'call night' which does our hearts GOOD!!


Pulling away without him was the hardest thing we've ever done. This was most definitely not a decision that the TEAM came to lightly and we grieved HARD. I sobbed...wailed... the entire way home and the only reason Nathan didn't is because he was driving and trying to keep us alive. Then we collectively ceased to function for a solid 72 hours (longer for some), desperately questioning, analyzing, every.single.piece. and taking turns physically holding each other up.  But once we heard from him the first time and heard that he is REALLY okay, we exhaled. And we knew we were gonna be too.