October 4, 2007
I watched the news today and saw a story about a foster child being sent into court ordered risk of child abuse. I have first hand experience with exactly this issue. It is both astonishing and sickening how many people will blindly send a defenceless child into danger simply because the letter of the law says to do so. It sounds eerily similar to the Nazi’s claiming that they were only following orders.
In the case of the foster child, he is 2 years old and has lived with the foster parents virtually his entire life. His parents have lost all parental rights and the foster parents want to adopt him. The birth father, a convicted pedophile who is a Mexican national, stated in court that when released from prison he intends to return to Mexico to live with his mother. His birth mother never showed up for the hearing.
However, before the foster parents can adopt him the state must try to find a blood relative who is willing to take him. After a 2 year search, the mother of the pedophile finally agreeed to take the child. Yes, this is the same woman that the pedophile father will be living with when he gets out of prison. In another country. Where the United States, the birth country of this 2 year old child, will have no jurisdiction. And the state is actually defending their position of sending this AMERICAN child there and not letting him be adopted here by the only family he has ever known.
He will be taken away from the only parents he has ever known and sent to a country he has never seen to live with people he doesn’t know, who speak a language he doesn’t understand. And why are they even thinking about doing this? Because the stated goal of Social Services Departments in this country is to keep families together. NOT……I repeat NOT the welfare of children. Look it up.
If this isn’t a case of court ordered child abuse I’ll kiss your ass on the courthouse square at high noon.
Did you know that if you have a child crossing a county line for visitation and they are abused, if you do not see the abuse yourself, and there is no physical proof of abuse, you cannot report it in your county? Because YOUR county doesn’t have jurisdiction in any other county. Think about that for a second. This means that you have to literally stand outside the windows on the sidewalk peeking in and witness the abuse yourself in order to report your child being abused in another county. Scary isn’t it?
Can you imagine what it would be like for a child to be sent into another country? No offense to Mexico, I happen to love that country. The fact that it’s another country just makes it exponentially more likely that he’ll be lost.
We wonder why people are so much more violent than they were in the past. It isn’t the availability of guns. It isn’t violence in movies and on TV. (although it might have something to do with the JackAss movies and Bam, but that’s another blog) It isn’t even drugs. For the most part those things are all symptoms and tools. Until children are big enough to DO the things that catch our attention, we allow the most atrocious things to happen to them and we hide behind the letter of the law like that makes it alright.
It took My Dearest Husband and I years of anguish and pain, along with the help of an incredibly wonderful counselor who was willing to actually DO something, to finally get our daughter out of a sentence of court ordered child abuse. And now we are seeing all the unfortunate effects of the time she spent in that hell. She will never be who she could have been if there had been more people like her counselor. She will never be the happy, light hearted little munchkin she was the first time I saw her. With alot of hard work, she CAN be a fantastic, wonderful, caring, happy woman. Unfortunately, she will have to fight a fight she had no business having to fight. She should have been protected. She wasn’t. She was tossed under the wheels of the bus by the Social Services system who believes that the law is more important than the well being of children and that blood is more meaningful than love to a child.
What the hell are we thinking?
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Abuse, America, Blog, Blogging, Blogroll, Child Abuse, Children, Court, Crazy, Daily Life, Family, Guilty, Help, Home, Kids, Law, Legal, life, Random, Reminiscences, Rights, Seeing Red, Teenagers, Thoughts, Trial, True Story, Uncategorized, Whining | Tagged: adoption, blood ties, Child Abuse, court ordered child abuse, DHS, family law, family ties, foster parent, Nazi, protecting children, social services | 
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Posted by thought4food
October 4, 2007
Life is perception. How we perceive an event is our reality of it. One man’s ceiling is another man’s floor. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. What you perceive as meaningless, someone else might perceive as the most meaningful thing in their life. Pay attention to how those important to you perceive the events in your lives. It counts.
Inaction is an action all by itself. It indicates indifference on a massive scale.
Why in the hell would anyone in this country with even ONE functioning brain cell think that Hillary Clinton would make a good president? This is a woman whose self esteem is so low that she stayed with a man who cheated on her in front of the entire world on more than one occasion. This can only mean one thing: He will pay in front of the entire world, and he will pay big! So, let’s put her in the White House????? Is she planning on giving her VP a BJ on TV during a State of the Nation Address? (Do you think I used enough acronyms in that sentence?) Women who stick around after being treated that way have one thing in mind: revenge. If Bill is smart (I know, I know, but it’s only a figure of speech) he would do something searingly outrageous and destroy her chances. It might save his life. And speaking as a woman myself, I can tell you this: Hillary remembers every one of you who have screwed her over. You might not even be aware that you did. *see paragraph one* And you will not get away unscathed either. Kenneth Star, I’m especially talking to YOU! She will smile for the cameras while she is listening in her earpiece to them tell her that the “package” has been deposited. That will be you in the East River wearing a pair of cement overshoes, going to sleep with the fishes. But only after she has caused them to make you scream like a girl. Think about it guys. Women are by far more vicious than men will ever be. And we never forget a slight. We certainly never forgive one. Putting Hillary Clinton in the White House is like dressing up Brittney Spears and putting HER in the White House. Sounds good, don’t it?
I wonder if the people that Blackwater were hired to guard and protect in Iraq want them gone? I haven’t heard anyone ask them. I haven’t heard any of them say. I would love to hear the answer to those questions. I also wonder who it was that Blackwater had with them at the time of the last big incident that caused all this hooohaaa. I hate magicians because I feel like misdirection is inherently dishonest. So this last big deal over Blackwater makes me wonder who was there and why all the fingers are pointing in so many different directions, but no one is saying who was with them.
Why are children always at their most obnoxious when my head hurts?#$%^&*
What parents say and what kids hear are two completely different things. example: Me-“Hi Honey, how was your day?”
Them-“Why R U gettin all up in my KoolAid?” That wasn’t a good exchange at all was it? We had no exchange of information, no exchange of pleasantries at all. That’s because what they hear is not what we said.
Me-how was your day translation: What did you do that was wrong or that I’m going to get a call from your school about before the day is through?
No wonder the response is so vehement! I have no solution for this distortion as yet, however I am working on it and as soon as I perfect the formula, I will put it on a paid programming commercial at 4:45am and you too can have it for 6 easy payments of JUST $19.95 plus shipping and handling!
When we were kids our dad used to wake us up every morning and whip us before he went to work. He did this because he knew that before he got home that night we would have done something to deserve it. He was right. I’m thinking about reviving that old tradition. Either that, or take up drinking. I’m not really sure which way I’m going to go yet. I’m leaning towards the whipping, but I’m not sure I could stand all that whining and crying. But after the first time or two, I’d probably cowboy up and stop doing that. On the other hand, drinking would be so much less work for me. *sigh* decisions, decisions
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Posted by thought4food
September 28, 2007
Our oldest daughter came home yesterday. It’s been three years since I’ve laid eyes on her. My heart has seen her twenty-four/seven but my eyes have hungered for her non-stop. Going long periods of time between physically seeing her is normal. She is a natural born gypsy. She comes by that honestly.
I never seem to be prepared for just how overwhelmingly happy I am to see her. I kept poking her on the arm. She kept looking at me. Finally, the last time I did it she said, “Believe I’m really here yet?” There seems to be a Birdie shaped hole in my being when she isn’t with me that immediately fills up when she comes home.
It’s like that with all my family and to a lesser degree with my friends. I’m like a puzzle. I’m this huge picture. I know what it is, I know what it looks like. But I’m only really complete and the whole big picture when everyone is together. I almost had it this Labor Day.
Labor Day marked the one year anniversary since the house burned down. All in all things have progressed fairly splendidly since then. We moved into what seems to us to be the perfect house in which to finish raising the kids, finish growing old, hobble around awhile, become a burden to said kids, make them change our diapers just like we did theirs, and eventually be remanded to an old folks home, there to linger and molder away, forgotten and neglected while the aforementioned kids are happily enjoying the life of Riley back at the old homestead. So we decided it was time to conduct a good ol fashioned throw-down.
The icing on the cake was that my mom (you remember her, I am now the proud owner of her hands) and my brothers and my sister(in law) and my niece(my GOD I love that kid) all came up from good ol FLA to attend! AND My Dearest Husband’s Grandma came from 250 miles away along with his mom. Most of our closest friends were able to attend. The few that weren’t were in our thoughts. Our new neighbors were here. We had just the best time ever! The best count we could get was approximately 47 people. Not bad.
The kids all played and didn’t fuss and fight. The grownups all played and didn’t fuss and fight. Even I was nice! (I think) It lasted from around noon until way, way late. Actually it lasted until way early the next day. We had two chefs that cooked on the grill for us. OMG They ruled! My Dearest Husband’s Aunt and Cousin brought some kick ass goodies. We cooked. I say “we” as if I actually helped any! LOL I didn’t! Don’t let me fool you. I was absolutely NO help of any kind at all. My help consisted of staying out of the way and trying not to talk too much. Because by the day of the party I had been off my meds for a fair amount of days ( another story for another time) and I was having major difficulties even saying words. Mostly I just wandered around aimlessly. But at least I wasn’t destructive. That in itself was helpful.
The bros and the hubbie knocked out a couple horse shoe pits and everyone threw some shoes. Down here in Carolina you ain’t had a party if you haven’t threw the shoes. After everyone left, my little brother, Pony, got out my guitar and he and my older brother, Pork Chop, and I sat out on the front porch and sang all the old songs while the dogs lay around under our feet. Pork Chop said it was like being in Mayberry.
The puzzle was mostly put together that day. Only a few missing pieces. It was good to have everyone here. It’s been awhile since we’ve been able to do that.
Big party, lots of people, food, beer, family, friends, no bloodshed = success.
*sigh* (insert big sappy grin) I love reunions.
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Posted by thought4food
September 22, 2007
Okay, that’s it for the sappy emotion.
I’ve moved. I’m now living in a house on top of a hill. It’s harder than I thought it would be, this not being a slob and all. When you have a nice house you sorta feel like you should keep it nice. My own expectations are exhausting me.
But it’s all bright and white and neat and shit. And it’s out in the open and the sun shines on me all the time. Except when the sun doesn’t shine on me. Then it’s only partly light. Or else it’s dark. That happens at some point every day. Go figger. Still, it’s very……(I’m searching for an appropriate word here)…..happifying! That’s a word, right?
I’ve started walking in the mornings after I put Miss Bella and His Highness the Buddha on the bus for school. *giggle* School. I love school. Anyway, I’ve been trying to get some exercise. It seems to be working pretty well. If you don’t count the fact that for the past 3 or 4 days I haven’t really been able to walk. My hip ballooned up and my jaw on the same side did the same thing. I had a tooth cut out there recently. Seriously, you’ve missed a lot. But I seem to be um, infected. EW! I KNOW! It’s all gross sounding to me too.
I’m thinking that I might just be allergic to all that healthy crap. Honest. See, I wasn’t brought up that way. We were brought up to be filthy dirty little heathens! That’s right, Mom! I’m tellin all the family secrets right here! We didn’t use hand sanitizer! We drank sodas ALL THE TIME! We ate the fat on our meat! OH YES WE DID! We ate bacon OFTEN! I SMOKE! We drank! And…..you might want to sit down for this one….sometimes we still do! We used copious amounts of salt on our food. We played in dirt. We played with our friends when they had colds. We did not know our physicians and their office personnel on a first name basis because we went so often. As a matter of fact, we went to the doctor’s office so seldom, that a visit there frightened us to bits! Uh huh that’s right.
I had my first X-ray when I was 14 years old! And I was so terrified that I thought I would puke! I have had many broken bones that were not set. I have had broken bones that I never went to the doctor for at all. We ate burgers from Louie’s! We followed the 5 second rule. We drank from water fountains, not water bottles. Sometimes we drank from water hoses too. If our ice cream fell out of the cone, we picked it up, scraped off whatever trash we could see, and plopped that bad boy back on the cone and ate away! No sense wasting the perfectly good part of a cone over a little bit of trash! Sheesh!
We ate food handled by people who never wore gloves except in the winter when it was really really cold. But never when they were touching our food. We sometimes faked washing our hands before we ate. We walked barefoot from the first snow until the first thaw. And truth be told, if it wasn’t for caffeine and nicotine I would be in a coma.
But until I started trying to be more “healthy” I was in fact healthy as the proverbial horse. The healthier I tried to live, the unhealthier I became.
I developed……….(insert doomsday music here) MS. My theory is this. As I started to live a more healthy lifestyle, my hyped up immune system had less and less legitimate work to do. Being an honest hard working system, it couldn’t bring itself to just lay around and do nothing. So it decided to attack something, anything. Knowing me like it did, it had a meeting and came to the conclusion that it would attack the most useless part of me……my brain. (wink) So it rolled on up in there and went to work.
But, being MY immune system, it couldn’t just attack like normal. Oh no! It had to do it in a bizarre fashion. So it went for my cognitive centers. My memory centers and pathways. Smart-ass immune system. On the other hand, it sometimes goes after me in the normal ways too.
As a result of all this I have decided to go back to my unhealthy ways. I’m back to eating the fat on my meat. I’m gonna go barefoot in the summer until it’s just too darn cold to do it anymore. I’m drinking water out of the faucet and if I’m in the yard I’m drinking it out of the hose. Maybe I won’t eat the ice cream off the ground though. I mean, I am almost 50, after all.
Do you see what happens when I’m away too long? I babble. I start on one topic and end on something not even remotely related. But I have this really cool built in excuse. I have drain bamage. Yeah baby! That’s what I’m talkin bout! *sigh* Unfortunately, everyone I know, knows better. *giggle* Oh well, it was a nice try.
But it’s good to be back. I’ll fill you in on what you missed later. Not allof it. Don’t be so nosey! Sheesh!
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Posted by thought4food
July 11, 2007
Global Warming Sucks.
What’s UP with the people in the van in Texas who gave the little girl X, then put a video of her tripping on the internet? It takes a special kind of stupid to do that! But it is more and more common to find video of idiots doing idiotic things on the net, isn’t it? Sad, sad, sad. On the other hand it makes the job of law enforcement so much easier doesn’t it? And it was ever so helpful of them to include the Christian radio call letters, too! Kinda made me want to spit up on that one. Criminy!?@#
Nancy Grace cracks me up every time! She’s a spunky little broad, that one.
Pedophiles should get an automatic death sentence. No parole, no second chance, no life sentence, no nothing. They are unable to be rehabilitated by their own admission as well as statistically, not to mention by proof of all the previous sex offenders who are out there offending again. We don’t have to go into all the names. You know them. Automatic death sentence. Just add water and Poof! Problem solved.
What is the matter with Robert Kennedy Jr.’s voice, anyway? Dude always sounds like he’s about to cry or hack up a lung or something. Ick.
Those dang ol Lowes stores have way too much cool stuff for your house. I get all discombobulated in there. I get way too many ideas in my head at one time. My ADHD gets all hyped up and it kick starts my MS and that aggravates my ectopic cerebellar tonsils which leads me to suddenly go stupid. I went in there with My Dearest Husband to get a hook to hang up a wooden thingie with our name on it, on the front of our house. This is going to take the place of him pissing off the back porch. *wink* So, since we’re there, I take Bella and go look for some pretty Portulaca’s to hang on the front porch, you know, to accentuate the wooden name plate. On our way to meet up with My Dearest Husband, we pass a really cool garden tub, which would fit perfectly in the bathroom. But, hey! Look! There are the perfect shelves right over there that we need to put in Bella’s closet to kinda keep her overflow of stuffcrapjunkpaperscrapsbitspuffswhispswhatsitswhositsyouknowwhatsthingies in check. And….right over there is a great deal on a counter top that someone special ordered and returned that would fit perfectly in the new kitchen! Woo Hoo! Whoa! Lookit that! It’s that great chalkboard paint that I wanted for the kids rooms! How cool would it be for me to paint their walls so that they COULD write on em? Eh? I’d be the coolest, right? Oh no it isn’t! Yes it is! It’s erasable marker paint! Holy Crap! AND Magnetic paint too! OMG! I’m gonna be the best mom in town! Hmmm I’m starting to feel kinda dizzy. I hate checkerboard floors. My heart is beating really really fast now. How come everything seems to be moving in and out like a zoom lens is on my eyes? Ok, time to go. What? Oh, no, I don’t want to buy anything. I just wanna go home. Suddenly I don’t feel so good. Dang ol Lowes store.
Iced Tiger Spiced Chai is the best drink in the world when it’s hot outside.
You should always marry your best friend. However, if your best friend is the same sex as you and you are heterosexual, disregard this advice. Also, if your best friend is of the opposite sex, and you are gay, disregard this advice. Otherwise, take it. And if I forgot any other exceptions, use yer noggin and figure them out. I have brain damage, don’t let me do your thinking for you!
I’m sleepy and I’m going to bed.
Oh! And I’m sending His Highness the Buddha and Miss Bella back to day camp for the rest of the week. It’s only three days but by golly I’ll take what I can get! I’m giddy with anticipation! Be happy for me!
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Posted by thought4food
July 9, 2007
Yes, thaaaaat’s right. School is STILL out. DAMN SCHOOL! These kids are driving me crazy!
Typical Day
Where are all the popcicles?????
Yall ate 43 of them yesterday. They’re gone.
I didn’t eat them! HE/SHE ate them! (various amounts of violent discord ensues)
That is what they’re there for, you both ate them. Now go play.
Pig!
Hog! (more discord)
Cut that out and go play before I send you to your rooms. (riiiiight! then they will be locked up in here with ME! Fat chance! )
Well when are we going to get some more popcicles? We need some more popcicles. It’s hot, we need popcicles!
tick tick tick hours pass with the incessant questions of popcicles. Finally I cave. We go get popcicles.
Are they frozen yet? No Are they frozen yet? No Are they frozen yet? NO Are they frozen yet? NONONO Are they frozen yet?
*sigh* Yes, thank all the Gods in the Universe! They are frozen!!!!!!!!!!! Hello? Where are you? The popcicles are frozen! Ya want one?
(In unison with a nice four part harmony..) No, I’m tired of popcicles. Do we have any ice cream? *SOB*
Does anyone know when school starts again? Haven’t they been out for a really long time? It starts again soon, right? RIGHT??????????????
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Posted by thought4food
June 9, 2007
Yippee!!!!! School is out! Last day of getting up at 6:00 am. Last day of getting surly children out of a comfy bed way too early in the morning. Last day of picking out clothes the night before. Last day of homework! Woo hoo! Last day of sick day notes. Last day of lunch money.
First day of sleeping in. First day of play clothes. First day of sandwiches for lunch. First day of time at the lake. First day of cartoon marathons. First day of lazy time.
Hmmm….last day of Dr. Phil. Last day of peace and quiet. Last day of time to myself. Last day of no fighting. Last day without non-stop screaming through the house all day long. Last day without MomMomMomMomMomMomMomMomMOMMOMMOMMOM.
DAMN! Last day of school! *sob* 😦
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Posted by thought4food
June 8, 2007
Teenagers ………….. *sigh* …………….. nuf said.
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Posted by thought4food
June 6, 2007
Buddha came wandering in the room Sunday evening about 7:00 pm with the news that he had been throwing up all day and his legs were cramping and his stomach hurt. You may think that the fact that I was so far behind on this information means that I don’t pay attention. Let me disabuse you of this notion.
First of all, Buddha is secretive in his personal habits in the extreme. He got this way when he was living at home. I’m not sure exactly what survival instinct led him to that particular behavior, but you will almost never catch him doing anything in the way of personal habits at all. He does do all those things like brush his teeth, take a bath, use the toilet, etc. He just does it all on the sly.
Second, his sister is the twin of the Tasmanian Devil. Being in her proximity is like being inside of a tornado that consists of blond hair and tiny bits of paper and chap stick and fingernail polish and puppies and shards of glass and blue eyes and bug juice and questions and clothes and makeup and arguments and chewing gum and an incessant stream of words and movement. It’s hard to see past her sometimes.
Also, on the weekend, His Highness The Buddha, does not like to be disturbed when he is resting. So I leave him to his own resources to decompress and do as he pleases unless I hear screaming or see blood pooling underneath his bedroom door. Flames, smoke, the sound of breaking glass……these will also capture my attention.
So, he tells me that he had been throwing up since morning. *sigh* I figure he’s dehydrated. I give him water with a few grains of salt. It all comes up immediately. I smell a trip to the ER coming up. I pack up the Tasmanian Devil, a few waiting room supplies, and Buddha. Off we go to the ER for a quick IV of fluids to re-hydrate him and then we’ll be home and that will be that.
Not so much.
After about a gallon of drawn blood, about three gallons of IV fluids drained into him, a multitude of tests, and a CAT scan, we find out that he has appendicitis. Wow. Into the hospital he is admitted. The surgeon will be there in the morning to talk about what we will do.
(insert ominous music here) The surgeon comes in and tells Buddha that he must have the appendix out. The instant Buddha realizes what the means he says, “Cut me?!! OH NO! I’m outta here!” It’s everything we can do to keep him in the bed. We talk and cajole and do everything but chase him down the hall and tie him to the bed. By this time his belly is hurting him considerably. We convince him that having the surgery will make his belly feel better and he finally agrees. Whew!
It all happens quite quickly. He’s in surgery in a matter of minutes. They tell us he’ll be back in an hour and a half, be in the room. When they bring him back up, he’s awake. I ask how he’s feeling. He rares up on the bed and yells, “THEY CUT ME AND IT HURTS!!” We kinda forgot in all the excitement to tell him that the surgery was going to hurt pretty bad right at first. Our bad. *grimace*
Once he was in bed and settled and the morphine set in, he informed me that people who were in the hospital get presents. He would accept a video game, thank you. Then whenever anyone called or came by, he would dutifully inform them of the same thing complete with his order. I figure that he’s already calculated what his appendix was worth.
By the time he’s fully recovered, I’m going to have to watch out on eBay because he’ll be trying to sell his kidney for a Volkswagen. A cornea for the downpayment on his college tuition. 😦 *sigh*
He’s home and feeling fine. He disappeared from the couch about two hours after we got him home. My Dearest Husband went looking for him, he wasn’t in the house. Bella said he was up the drive. Um…….up the drive??? Yeah, she says, riding his bike. We walk out on the porch and sure enough, he comes slowly riding back down the driveway. Just over twenty-four hours after his surgery. We’re standing there with our bottom jaws resting on the tops of our shoes, staring at him. He says, “What?”
Kids, ya gotta love em.
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Posted by thought4food
June 5, 2007
I think about this today from the other perspective. From the point of view of the person who is not raising their own child.
I have to preface this by saying that I have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about. Luckily that has never stopped me before, so here I go.
For those of you who haven’t read this blog before I am raising two of my grandchildren. I also have an adopted daughter, who is my husband’s natural daughter. Hence, other people’s children. They are all children of my heart, and I couldn’t love them one bit more if I had carried them all for the full nine months plus one more just for good measure. But, none the less, they are still other people’s children and they all know it.
They all have mothers elsewhere and they love them and miss them very much.
I can’t imagine how much their mother’s must miss them as well. I have been lucky enough to have been connected to two extraordinary women who had the love and strength to allow me to raise their children. It’s an incredible thing and I’m not sure either one of them realize that.
They both signed papers deliberately that allowed me to be a co-parent with them. I’m not sure that’s how they saw it. I’m afraid that in those dark hours before the morning light, that wasn’t how they explained it to themselves at all. I fear that they told themselves a far different story. I wish they could have seen themselves through my eyes during those times.
What they would have seen would probably have surprised them. Because they are heros to me. These are women who loved their children more than they loved themselves. They put themselves in the position to tell themselves those things in the dark of night when there wouldn’t be anyone there to tell them different. What I see when I look at them are two of the strongest women on earth. They are shining lights. I hope their children see them that way when they are grown and look back.
I hope they can see what a sacrifice of self, of heart, of hope their mother’s made so that they could have a better chance in life. I got the easy part out of it. I’m the one who got to be here. They got the hard part. They aren’t here everyday to see what goes on. They get bits and pieces. They have to try to make a whole picture out of random puzzle pieces from several different puzzles from different time periods. No matter how much you tell them, it can never be enough.
They took from themselves every holiday, every birthday, every Mother’s day, all those special moments. And they did it for the love of their children. That is the most massively unselfish thing I can imagine. The scope of it is hard to comprehend.
The idea of the pain that they caused themselves is almost impossible to imagine. And yet they did it. And they didn’t walk away afterwards. I think this, to me, is the most awe inspiring part. They stayed as close as they could. They call, they send things. Sometimes they come to visit.
The awkwardness, the sadness, the hurt this must cause has to be enormous. But they do it for the love of their children. I am humbled. I wish sometimes that I could give them my eyes to see through so that they could see themselves the way I see them. I wish that I could give to them the sense of pride in themselves that I feel in them.
But more than anything, I wish that they could know themselves as the heros they are for putting the lives of their children first. They are remarkable women. I admire them both.
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Thought For Food 