Miranda Wallis didn't associate violent rages, police visits and the physical destruction of her home with starting a family when she first adopted a pair of sisters seven years ago. Cute, mild mannered and polite, the girls, then aged six and nine, had initially been on their best behaviour, and Wallis, in her mid-40s at the time, revelled in the joy and fulfilment of being a first-time mother. What she didn't see was the seething pain and mistrust behind the girls' charming demeanor, the result of early lives spent in a broken home, an orphanage and foster homes. It was during a minor disagreement with her younger daughter one evening that Wallis first saw the problem for what it was, or as she describes it, when 'the typhoon' first struck. 'All of a sudden, my younger child hurled her bowl of rice against the wall, breaking it into a million pieces and the rice going everywhere,' she says. 'She wouldn't stop screaming and yelling. It was shocking because the reprimand I had given her just didn't match her reaction.' Aghast, the mother-of-two set out to understand the cause of all this. A call to the foster mother with whom they previously stayed revealed a much deeper problem. The violent flare-up, Wallis discovered, had not been a single event. It had, in fact, been a way of life for the younger child. The foster mother and her school teachers had given in to the little girl's every whim so as to avoid confrontation and angry outbursts. Although the symptoms were markedly different - the younger child threw violent rages and the older daughter was verbally cruel - both sisters suffered from attachment disorder, a psychological and emotional condition that prevents individuals from forming strong and lasting relationships. This inability to bond with another human being is typically caused by neglect or abuse experienced during the first three formative years of life, a time when infants have the primal need to bond with their parents, most notably the mother. Megan McGinn, an American adoption consultant, points to research conducted by American psychologist Harry Harlow in the 1950s, showing the importance of early attachment between mother and child. In an experiment, young monkeys were given the choice of two surrogate mothers - one made of soft terrycloth that provided no food and the other made of wire that provided food from an attached baby bottle - the baby monkeys spent significantly more time with the cloth mother. Harlow said it demonstrated early attachment goes well beyond the need for food and survival. Love and bonding were equally crucial. Attachment is not just an issue for adopted children, although, by virtue of their circumstances, they are more likely to experience it. The disorder can occur in other children who have experienced death or divorce, or in infants with medical conditions who suffered a separation from their parents to undergo medical procedures. Unwanted teen pregnancies and substance abuse cases have also contributed to a surge in the diagnosis of such cases over the years, according to Nancy Thomas, a therapeutic parenting specialist in the US. She claims she has healed close to 100 children with the disorder. Children with the disorder who have experienced physical pain tend to be more outwardly violent, while those who have been neglected are more passive-aggressive and emotionally disturbed, Thomas says, adding that both share the same motivation that drives their actions. 'These kids want power and control more than food and fun because they weren't kept safe in their early years,' she says. 'Having been let down before, they don't believe the adoptive parents will be any different this time, so they have this pathological need to pursue safety. 'That means being in control at all times and pushing the limit of the adoptive mother.' Children with the disorder rarely make eye contact, are destructive to themselves and material things, have difficulty making friends and are dishonest more often than not. In more extreme cases, they steal and are cruel to animals. If untreated, children with attachment disorder grow up increasingly violent and destructive. Serious repercussions include spending time in juvenile detention centres or psychiatric facilities, says Thomas, noting most school bullies are likely to suffer some form of attachment disorder. She adds those who don't get into trouble with the law end up lonely, unable to cultivate long-term relationships and keep down a regular job, noting they can be distrustful and have little empathy for others. Lacking the mechanism to understand another person's feelings was what Wallis found so remarkable at first. Following her daughters' meltdowns, whether it had been a cold, cruel, verbal exchange or a targeted violent tantrum, the children never appeared to feel guilty or offer any apology. 'Remorse is learned through care and trust with parents and family,' Wallis says. 'Because my kids had never experienced bonding in their first three years of life, they had no point of reference for it. 'Even though they were six and nine at the time, they were, on the emotional level of bonding, only aged two. 'They can't empathise in the same way that normal people can,' notes Wallis. The Wallis girls are fortunate that they got the help required before it was too late. Thomas describes the disorder as a time bomb set in the first three years of life and set to explode by the age of about 15. 'That's why it is important to catch it as early as possible because the older you are, the harder it is to treat,' she says. 'Once healed, these kids turn out to be wonderful people.' The recovery process, experts say, requires strict discipline, clear boundaries and a tight structure in the home that signals to the child who is in charge, while creating at the same time an environment ripe for bonding. One of the first things Wallis did following a consultation with Thomas was to make a conscious effort to catch up on all the years of lost bonding with her daughters. She implemented an orderly structure in the home and rescheduled her entire life around the children. Up until that point, they had never had so much attention from an adult. 'I stopped playing tennis, went home earlier during the week, packed the weekends full of activities, supervised them doing homework in my office if need be,' she says. 'I bonded with them as much as possible.' Showing constant care and the patience to win their trust did not mean indulging in grandiose gestures, Wallis explains. Small gestures, such as maintaining constant eye contact, acknowledging them at all times and giving them physical affection, can make a huge difference. 'These things help the person feel that they are loved and worthy, and that begins to establish a connection they have missed all their lives,' she says. As the primary caregiver, Wallis also needs to remain calm, composed and strong at all times. This reinforces her position as the person in charge and maintaining control so the children both look up and respect her. Years of hard work later, the relationship Wallis has with her teenage daughters is the envy of many other mothers and daughters. They are close and open, and the girls share their deepest teenage secrets with her, including controversial subjects such as boys and sex. More importantly, however, the tantrums are now just a shadow of their ugly past. 'These children can be healed,' says Wallis. 'I have seen such huge improvements, in particular, in my younger child. 'She can now make friends with ease, does well in school and is so much happier than before.' Adoption consultant McGinn echoes her optimism. 'To treat the disordered child requires patience and persistence on the part of the parents,' she says. 'But perhaps the most important thing is the willingness to help heal the child and to make the commitment in terms of time and effort to see it through.'
