The sky is grey, my husband and I are awake in the kitchen, still in our pjs with slippers, a hot cup of coffee in my hand, and our Daisy pup pestering me to feed her. The house is quiet, everything seems still, it’s Saturday morning.
We start prepping pancakes and sausage. I whisk the eggs, flour and sugar as my husband unwraps the sausage links and turns the burner on. He starts frying the sausage over the stove as I get the griddle plugged in. As the sausage begins to cook, the aromas start to dance around the house. But that’s not what wakes up our three beautiful girls.
“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! FIRE! FIRE!”
The fire alarms are echoing through our home. Smoke from the sausage is invading our kitchen. My husband grunts as if the alarm has ears “I’m just cooking, for Pete sakes”. I rush to the windows to attempt to open them. The frames are iced shut. I give them a tug with not much luck. My husband turns the hood vent on. I hustle to the patio door and open it wide. Then to the front door.
By this time our three girls have all come upstairs to see the ruckus. Our youngest is crying “make it stop, make it stop”. I pick her up and explain that she is safe and that the alarms will turn off. There is no fire, just smoke from daddy cooking the sausage.
As the house turns to a chilly sixty degrees, the smoke starts to dissipate and the fire alarms one by one turn off. Hearts are still racing, but the smell of breakfast starts to tickle our senses and everyone wants to eat. I close the windows and my husband chuckles that next time he is cooking bacon. Bacon doesn’t bring Saturday morning false fire alarms to our home.
They really ought to make those fire alarms voice activated. A simple phrase “I’m just cooking” could turn all the alarms off as you open up the house to let the fresh air dance with the smoke and smells of the dish you are preparing.
There are so many parallels between this false fire alarm and raising children with trauma backgrounds.
We all have our own fire alarms in our brains. As adults, we’d like to think we know what sets these fire alarms off (our anxieties, our triggers, and past trauma) and approximately how many fire alarms we have. We also understand where these alarms are, how to prevent them from going off, and how to easily turn them off.
But as children, especially those with a history of trauma, I have learned time and again just how unpredictable these fire alarms are. Just how difficult they can be to turn off. And also how challenging it can be to help children learn where they are. And how to prevent them from ever turning on.
In my own experiences, fire alarms in my children's brains are often going off by simple things such as an upcoming appointment, a visit with a relative, or a new experience they are anxious about (e.g., riding a bike, trying a new food, or attending a birthday party). Then as the event comes to be, additional alarms may also be ringing.
At times, there may be five or more fire alarms going off at once. At this moment my child is in survival mode. Thoughts are primitive, irrational, fits or tantrums over the smallest things occur, and the alarms become so loud a child literally loses all control and awareness of themselves and the environment around them.
As a parent, I cannot simply turn the alarms off for my children. I have to be a fire chief of sorts to help them not only find the fire alarms, but also help them learn how turn the alarms off. Once those alarms are off and we’ve come to a point of self regulation, we can then begin calmly exploring why the alarms went off in the first place and how to prevent them from going off in the future.
This is parenting. This is foster care. This is special needs. This is anxiety. This is trauma. These are the wounds and hurts we didn't know existed oozing out of a child. This is real and this is the life many families live day in and day out.
Perhaps you can relate to this- be it yourself, a family member, a student, or your very own child? I want to encourage you to keep being that fire fighter! Keep pressing into learning where those fire alarms are, how to turn them off, and how to keep them off for good.
This is not something we do alone- often we need to include family, friends, and professionals to help us journey through this jungle of grief, trauma, anxiety, depression, heartache, and mental health.
Know that I am praying over your situation, that you are never alone, and that those dang fire alarms will someday all turn off. Eventually, you’ll be able to enjoy those pancakes and sausage for breakfast, no fire alarms required.
“I hit my knees with my hands held high
Saying dear Lord Jesus you know
I can't do this on my own
I can't do this on my own
Lord knows I've tried but I'm good at falling down
Thank God you're good at picking me up off the ground
The world's gonna try to break me
But I know the one who makes me
Strong
Strong”