This is a sentiment that a recent poster on EEAC's PEP list expressed. This person was reacting to her daughter's constant tantruming and challenging behaviors. Other parents chimed in, letting her know that sometimes they felt that way, too.

I'm sure it was hard for her to admit this lack of love. It's not a very noble feeling, not to like your own child, but I think in many ways it's very normal. Especially if you're the parent of a spirited, or difficult, or strong-willed or challenging youngster. Whatever you want to call it.

I don't want to scare any potential adoptive parents out there, but many children adopted from institutions may have behavioral or developmental issues - many which will lessen or go away over time, of course, but some which will just have to be dealt with the entire time they're your children. In other words, forever.

I hate to admit it, I really do, but sometimes, during the worst of Little J's challenging behaviors, I have felt the exact same way as the mother of the tantruming girl. I don't think I've felt this way because Little J is adopted, however. I think it's a response to the bad behaviors. It's sometimes a challenge to love a child who you don't like very much.

That said, one of the people on the PEP list, Deb, offered some wise advice which I intend to print out and put on my fridge. Here it is:

Totally understandable. Completely logical. It is hard to keep going back to something when there seem to be no rewards.

But in my experience this is when you try and get a good night's sleep, and wake up thinking ' ok, I'm the adult and the parent....and stop worrying right now about the not loving part, and try and be a good caretaker who can work on the problems. I guess, from my own experience, I would like to say that you can beat yourself up feeling like a failure - trying to deal with an unloveable child. Sometimes getting lost in the process of trying to figure out the issues is a good place to be. Not sure if it is really possible....but getting to some more undertanding of the child is helpful.

I think this idea of understanding is key. This morning I needed Little J to run upstairs and get his fleece jacket off his chair and bring it downstairs so we could leave for school. Don't do anything else, I said. Just get the jacket.

Five minutes later I was still waiting. Come down now! I yelled, in my worst scary mom voice. No Little J. I yelled a second time, then went upstairs to haul him down.

What were you doing? I asked, as I shoved his head and arms into the jacket. I don't know, he said. All you had to do was get your jacket, I said. That's all! I know, he said, and he started crying. I shouted at him to get into the car. He was bawling, I was steaming, and Big J was gloating that it wasn't him getting the brunt of my anger.

Not a very lovely illustration of my parenting skills, I'm sure. I lose my patience with Little J all the time. But I know he has a hard time focusing. I knew, when I asked him to get his jacket, that he'd go upstairs and get distracted. Many three and 3/4 year old children can do this, but Little J cannot. If I knew this, then why was I so angry? Because I'd expected him to act in a way that I know he couldn't? Or because I was frustrated that he couldn't do something that, were he a different child, could?

Tomorrow I will try to be more understanding. I don't want a different child. I want Little J. Short attention span and all.