Then this weekend we found a new level of abnormal. Of course, it was discovered just thirty minutes before cohosts of a baby shower I was hosting were about to arrive. I was coming home from a quick run to the DMV to renew my driver's licence and a quick stop at Party City for balloons--a party must.
Although she was in a good mood when I left, Rose was having difficulty staying on task to get her chores done, and she was being blatantly rude and just plain mean to Mike. When I say mean, I realize it's easy for some to think "she's only 10" but you have to live it to get it. She knows exactly how to shake you to your core if it helps her gain control.
Control was her survival mechanism all this time. It can't end now.
The end of the argument resulted in Rosie grabbing a plastic bag and putting it over her head. When Mike got it away from her, she ran to the kitchen to get a knife. He stopped her, and then he called the 9-11 for help.
When I got home, I was greeted by Mike and Rose, both extremely upset. In the 90 minutes I'd been gone, both had been reduced to tears. The police arrived shortly after me, and they asked Rose what her intentions were and gave her a pep talk about life and how important it is.
When they left, we all cried and hugged eachother, then I asked each of us to take a little break from one another. We still had a party to host. I went into Rosie's room and asked her if she were up for a party or needed a break to visit Grandma. I also tried to think of ways to move the shower. She was so excited for the party despite the drama she wanted to stay. So then we finished cleaning the house, and by the time our friends arrived, you'd have never guessed we had a suicidal 10-year-old just two hours before.
Ironically, I wanted to host the shower to help myself feel more normal in this new world--to do the things I've always done. And the shower was a huge hit although I am sure I was a little more on edge throughout and the number of grey hairs I had to tweeze last night serve as proof of the toll the entire day took on my nerves.
We did have a family chat after the party and before we all sat down to watch a movie. Rosie said she felt scared when the police came. She thought they were going to take her away--much like they did from her birth father. Rosie doesn't respect police right now, and I don't blame her. We assured her we wouldn't allow that to happen, and they only came here to help us know that she was safe. We reinforced that her behavior scared us a lot, too. She believed us.
I called her psychologist today who said Mike did exactly the right thing. She suggested we do lock up our knives. This behavior is typical of adopted kids who actually prefer negative attention to positive. Mostly because they are used to negative, and their self esteem is so low positive attention doesn't compute.
Today though was a better day. We got up, Mike made crepes. I straightened Rosie's hair, and then we went to the Science Museum to make Ukranian Easter Eggs.
Oh, and in other ways, the show has gone on. I have found energy to not only get dressed in more manicured office attire but also put make-up on again daily. Turns out those little things make me feel much more in control when the rest of my life feels rather nutty.
I love my 5 a.m. workout more than ever and am going to work in a run during work lunch as soon as my running buddy and I can work our schedules out, which means the little things that keep me sane are slowly lining up. Next: figuring out how to have time for friends.
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