Archive for the ‘deaf’ Category

Here a Friend, There a Happiness



My daughter, Marie, was severely abused as a toddler and young child. She came to live with us at the age of 7 after being found wandering the streets barefoot at 2 am carrying her infant brother looking for formula for him. The effects of the abuse were immediately apparent. She couldn’t stand to be touched, and would cower under the table if she felt threatened. She was angry all of the time and refused all attempts at affection. (When she was with us for a few years, she finally allowed me to give her a “fist bump” as a way of showing my love for her, a love she certainly did not reciprocate because she didn’t know what love was.)

Posttraumatic stress episodes were explosive and frequent, and required restraints and hospitalization. She had superhuman strength while in the throws of PTSD, as I am sure the EMTs and firemen who came to transport her to the hospital can attest. She turned into a super kicking, screaming, biting and hitting machine, and it was amazingly frightening to see.   If put in clothe restraints, she would eat through the cloth like a ravenous wolf. The adult restraints were too large and a smaller hole would have to be cut to fit her slim wrists and ankles. She learned to bite the inside of her mouth to spit blood and they tried to put a mask on her, which she immediately sucked into her mouth and gagged on. At the hospital, she would get a shot of Haldol, go into a trance, and wake up questioning what happened. With her hands still restrained and unable to sign regularly, her little fingers would finger spell “Where am I? Why?”

The number of PTSD episodes have subsided to once every 6 months or so. She has learned to love and be loved by her family, and, fortunately, she is making tremendous progress. Marie is going to be 20 years old this month and still attending a specialized school where she can remain until she is 21.

Marie, citing her age that she is an adult, has come more into her own. On her own, she got a tattoo of a dolphin on the inside of her wrist. She loves dolphins since swimming with them at Discovery Cove on her 12th birthday. By choosing that particular tattoo, she reasoned she could look at the dolphin every time she gets upset and it would remind her of a happy time instead of the times she was abused. Like other young adults, she has colored her hair a mixture of blue and blonde, has a lip ring and likes to pick out her own clothes. Her newest adult adventure is finding a girlfriend; recently reconnecting with an amazing girl a few years older than her with whom she attended school many years ago. They have started hanging out and Marie is giddy with excitement. (Marie has never had a real friend of any kind before.)

Yesterday the 3 of us went to Dave and Buster’s at the mall. While Marie LOVES to play the games, sometimes the crowds overwhelm her and she gets anxious, moody and socially unresponsive. Her sweet friend, who does not know the extent of Marie’s early childhood abuse, kept asking her why she was mad at her, which eventually turned into a full blown argument in the car. By the time we got home, her friend was no longer talking to her and said she was never coming to see Marie again. Marie went down and sat on the wall overlooking the lake, her head drooping down. She texted me on her phone, “Help Me”. Joining her on the wall, I noticed she was crying, something I have never seen Marie do. The tears spilled out of her eyes and were running down her cheeks like an ever-flowing fountain. Her mouth was quivering and her sad eyes said it all. I hugged her and the tears turned more torrential. After a while she signed to me “She thinks I’m mad at her and that I have an attitude. I don’t know how to tell her.” Meaning she didn’t know how to tell her about her abuse and that sometimes it still affects the way she acts. She didn’t know how to tell her how much she loved her as a friend, her FIRST friend, and she didn’t want to hurt her, but sometimes she couldn’t control her emotions. She asked me to come with her to talk to her friend to help her explain.

Her friend was annoyed. Marie began about her family history and her friend said that SHE, too, had a mother addicted to drugs and that SHE, too, had been adopted. She said she learned to just “get over it” and why couldn’t Marie? With this criticism, Marie ran from the room and back to the wall by the lake. I explained that Marie had an extremely traumatic childhood, far and above just her mom doing drugs. I explained the hurt, the hospitalizations, and the challenging life she has endured. Her friend’s angry face softened with understanding. As I was talking, a tear slipped down her cheek and she got up and went down to the wall by the lake. When I looked out the window, they were both hugging and laughing.

I pray that Marie’s friend will continue to be her friend and accept her with all of her emotional baggage. It would take an amazing friend to do that, and I have a feeling she IS that amazing!

The Words Every Adoptive Mom Longs to Hear…


Like most other adoptive parents, I adopted children because I, selfishly, wanted children. (My theory was if I had children to care for, I really didn’t have a lot of extra time to clean the house. I would rather care for a child than mop the floor…) An adoptive parent should never think their child who is adopted is beholden to them. The child didn’t choose to be born into their circumstances, and they certainly didn’t ask to be adopted. And I have had more than my share of emotionally unstable children, (aren’t all teenagers unstable anyway?) and never expected them to be happy about my choice to adopt them, (or at least not to express that feeling.)

But I was wrong. I went to Marie’s award ceremony at school today. Most parents didn’t go, it was during the day and I’m sure it was hard for them to get off work. It was hard for me to get off work, too, and I will have to work on the weekend to make up for it, but I went because I wanted to support Marie, who had been doing phenomenally in school. Marie didn’t know I was coming, and she was sooooooooo excited! She ran over, gave me a big, wet, on the lips kiss, and put her head on my shoulder while she hugged me tightly. She was genuinely happy to see me, (and not just because she knew I would take her out for ice cream after the ceremony.) She dragged me to all of her friends, and announced to them in American Sign Language something that made my heart stop and tears come to my eyes. She said, “This is my mom. She wasn’t my real mom when she adopted me when I was 7 years old, and at first I didn’t like her, but she made me feel safe and she gave me food and clothes. Now I love her very much and she is my real mom because now I have a happy life and I know I will have a happy future. And someday I will have babies and make her a grandmother!” I am her mom, indeed!

To read about our traumatic early years together, please purchase my book, The Apple Tree: Raising 5 Kids with Disabilities and Remaining Sane on Amazon.

“If You Look for the Goodness in Your Children, Good Things Will Happen”

My dear friends and readers,

Please excuse this commercial interruption of your regular reading.

If you enjoy reading my blog, you will LOVE reading my book!

The Apple Tree: Raising 5 Kids With Disabilities and Remaining Sane
Authored by Linda Petersen

(Review by Dawn Raffel from Readers Digest:)
Her story begins not with her children but with her own childhood spent traveling the country in the backseat of her parents’ car (her perpetually restless dad had post-traumatic stress disorder from WWII), often with very little money and few provisions. Where someone else might have seen deprivation and isolation, Petersen viewed her unusual childhood with a sense of wonder and gratitude. After marrying young and giving birth to a son who was legally blind (and who went on to earn a PhD on full scholarship), Petersen and her husband adopted four more special needs children and fostered many others. Each child has their own special story about overcoming tremendous physical and emotional difficulties in order to be able to succeed and enjoy life. Her honesty, wit, and terrific storytelling make this a book you want to read rather than one you feel you should read.

The link to the book:

Thanks sooooo much! Happy reading!

Singing Do Wa Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy……..WHAT???????


Driving around with my daughter, Marie, is always spirited fun, especially during the nice weather. She loves to “listen” to the radio by feeling the vibrations from the speaker when she leans her leg against the door. Today, with the windows rolled down, we were bopping away, tapping our hands on the car door, and shaking our bodies in time to the music. The music was not generally my “type”, but in a way it was, because any music that brings me and Marie together is my kind of music, even if she did the choosing, (and she choose based on the sound of the base vibrations.)

As we were bopping along with the windows down, I became self-conscious of the booming vibrations coming from the car. We were having fun, so what! THEN I became shocked when I heard a word in the song that should not be spoken…a word I didn’t even know the ASL sign for. Previously not even listening to the words, I started to pay attention. There were many words not suitable for family listening, as well as words that are not socially acceptable. I was MORTIFIED! Here was this sweet little, ole mom and her teenage daughter listening to urban (VERY urban) rap!

Marie didn’t understand my quick channel change, and I did manage to find some tamer, not as exciting base vibrations for us to bop to. I explained that the song had “dirty” words in it and it wasn’t appropriate to listen to. Marie said she couldn’t hear the words, anyway, so what did it matter? Thinking of all of those cars stopped next to us at red lights and in traffic throughout the day, I shuddered!

So this is an apology to anyone who was driving near us and heard the booming, top level, uncensored urban rap blasting from my car. I didn’t meant to do it…REALLY!



The Apple Tree: Raising 5 Kids With Disabilities and Remaining Sane
Authored by Linda Petersen
The link to the book:

That Disability Line Looked Awfully Tempting!


Needing to get a picture ID, Marie and I went into the black hole named the Registry of Motor Vehicles. Despite many years of revamping, that place can still take 4 hours to navigate. It was with this background that I bring up the option of the line for people with disabilities. Actually, there WAS no line. Tempting. MMMMMMMM. Marie has a disability. Teaching her to be more independent, I was actually only accompanying her while showing her that SHE can maneuver through the system. Without parental assistance, she really DID have a disability. But I have raised my children not to see their disabilities but their abilities. She may not talk or hear, but, armed with all of the appropriate paperwork filled out and the certificates of existence she needed, (birth certificate and social security card,) she has the capabilities of writing what she wants to say and reading back what the other person writes to get her ID herself. She can function as fully as a non-deaf teenager in the registry. And that meant she was fully capable of waiting in line like everyone else.
There have been many times in life that a disability line looked tempting, especially handicapped parking. What parent of a child with a disability hasn’t dreamed of getting that front row spot. Granted, many parents of children with disabilities DESERVE that front row spot, but not us. My kiddos can walk fine. No need to park there, even if the only other spot was a half mile away. But it certainly was tempting…
Just like that line at the registry. After about an hour of snaking through the regular line, the disability line looked awfully lonely. Marie could just zip in there and be done with it. But Marie isn’t disabled. She can communicate fine, just differently than others. She does not need a special line.
And such is our life. To let the children think they can use a disability line to get through life would be unfair to them. They have been raised to know they can do everything anyone else can do, they just may have to do things differently. No disabilities here!



The Apple Tree: Raising 5 Kids With Disabilities and Remaining Sane
Authored by Linda Petersen
The link to the book:

And I was WORRIED about My Daughter’s First Date; Silly, Silly Me!


Marie is a teenager who has had her eye on both boys and girls for a possible boyfriend or girlfriend for several years, with no actual luck finding anyone. We had “the” talk a while ago when she asked me if she should like boys or girls. Knowing her proclivity to try to dress like a boy due to her early childhood abuse, I told her that whether she had a boyfriend or a girlfriend would depend on who she wanted to have sex with when she was an adult. SEX? She looked at me in astonishment! She didn’t ever want to have sex with anyone!!!

Even though she vehemently denied ever wanting to get intimate with anyone, I still had a knot in the pit of my stomach when she went off on her first date with a guy she knew from a previous school. She wore her bright orange Kool-Aid guy t-shirt, which I had suggested she change. (She is quite stout, and actually looked like the Kool-Aid guy in that shirt!) She felt she looked fine, taking no interest in looking good for Carl. When he came to pick her up, they easily chatted in sign language, having not seen each other for about 3 years. She told me they were going out to dinner and I asked if she needed any money. She looked at me incredulous. Of COURSE she didn’t need money, Carl was going to pay! I asked them what time they would be home. They looked at each other quizzically and Marie finally signed “11”. And off they went.

Being the opposite of a night owl, I plopped myself on the couch in the living room with lots of caffeinated Diet Coke to keep me awake. Because I don’t have a lot of free time to watch tv, it was nice to enjoy Netflix and The House of Cards. After only an episode and a half, home came Marie! I asked her if she had a good time on her first date. She was non-committal. She said she enjoyed eating dinner and talking to him, but they didn’t know what to do after that and it became boring, so she came home. That’s my girl, Marie!!!!



The Apple Tree: Raising 5 Kids With Disabilities and Remaining Sane
Authored by Linda Petersen
The link to the book:

Quick…Tell Me Where to Turn


Marie and I attended a baby shower for a cousin today, and had a fabulous time. For an activity, they decorated baby onesies. Marie, who is very artistic with fabric paint, designed six. Each one had a fabulous design and appropriate wording-for HER. My favorite was a picture of the dad. She perfectly captured his beard, big, bright smile and curly hair. His blue eyes actually had a gleam in them, and his cheeks were pink with excitement. On it she wrote: “Happy daddy, baby boy yes”, replicating how the words are signed in ASL. This for a new dad who did not yet know the sex of his child!

Driving the 45 minutes to the restaurant, Marie was in charge of the GPS. She loves it when I give her this “job” because it keeps her active during the drive. Previously when riding in a car, Marie would try to sign to me, but I have to keep my eyes on the road and taking my hands off the wheel is problematic. The problem was solved by making her my navigational guru. She takes her job very seriously. She motions me into the proper travel lanes, and tells me when and where to turn. It is especially tricky when driving in a city as we were today. “In 2 tenths of a mile take a left.” Left here. she points. “In 4 tenths of a mile take a right”. Right there, she motions. We efficiently executed the twists and turns to perfection, and she was very proud of her directional skills when we arrived. Should I ever tell her that the GPS was also talking to me?????

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