Dora finished her required number of bags of manure, ceased her hollering and was actually quite proud of herself when she came inside tonight to clean up and eat dinner. One of her favorite foods—watermelon—was waiting for her. We had a good talk about how her afternoon unfolded and what choices she had made. Thus far this week she has tried to challenge me with eating slowly, screaming, not doing her chores, some really poor hygiene choices, and various other negative behaviors. I rocked with her tonight and told her about the kid who finished his manure bags but then elected to spend four hours wandering around the paddock before standing where I told him to stand when he was done. Or the kid who spent two weeks here before deciding to do his twenty minutes of manure scooping so he could leave. Then there was the kid who peed where he shouldn’t and ended up sleeping on the tile floor in the laundry room, and then had to wipe down the laundry room floor every morning—and peed in the bucket of water he was given to wash the floor. Oh, and don’t forget the 5-year-old girl who sat in my office and pulled her teeth … and I don’t mean the ones that were ready to come out. That one definitely got Dora’s attention.


My litany of past kids and past experiences was triggered by Dora’s comment about eating her food slowly the other night, after the last time she moved manure. I asked her if she did that to try and make me angry. She acknowledged that was her motivation. I laughed and hastened to assure her I was fine with her choosing to go to bed hungry. I pointed out it wasn’t my throat that hurt after her screaming today … And then I told her about some of the other kids that have passed through these doors. She just looked at me with wide eyes.


I asked her if she wanted the good things in life. She said she did. We talked about her being responsible for taking the opportunities that were offered to help her deal with her emotions and her anger, and about dropping the walls around her heart. We talked about the kids who hold on to their anger like a badge … and effectively extinguish their ability to feel anything else.


I let her know I was proud of the job she did today, and I think she was proud of it too. It was not a bad ending to a tough week.


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