A dear friend of mine posted on Facebook about choosing a word that is going to be her focus during 2015. It never occurred to me to choose a word to describe a year. My first thought was, "Nah. Keep scrolling." But, it kept nagging at me, and after some recent drama, I realized that I needed a focus work for this upcoming year. 2014 was hard. I made it through, but I came out of this year with a broken heart, an injured soul, and a defeated soul. I don't want to carry these things into the new year. I don't want to carry these another day. I want to be free, and the only one carrying around my chains of bondage is me. No more. So, without further ado, my word for 2015 is ... (drum roll please) ....
Reduce
Reduce: Negativity
I resolve to reduce the amount of negativity I allow into my heart and mind, and therefore increase the amount of love I'm able to give to everyone I meet.
A couple of weeks ago, I posted on Facebook about all of the negative stuff that fills my news feed. I enjoy social media, so I didn't want to do what some people do, and just walk away from it. I like reading about what is going on in my friends' lives, looking at pictures of their growing children, praying for them, laughing with them. But I did make the decision to start hiding posts or "de-friending" those that continue to spew negativity into social media. Let me be very clear here - I don't care if we have a different opinion, that doesn't matter to me. What matters is your attitude about your opinion. The example that I used is about President Obama. If you don't like him, that's fine, I have no problem if you bring that up. My problem lies when you talk about how he's horrible because he's African-American, or that horrible things should happen to him or his family. I've seen similar posts about the riots in Missouri and New York, gay marriage, gun control, the Pope, etc etc etc. Enough!! The extreme negativity is so harmful. That attitude hurts people - and it hurts yourself. It makes me sad when people I genuinely like show that they are capable of such hatred. I want to bang my head into a wall. But I won't, because instead, I'm going to start reducing the negativity.
Reduce: Drama
I resolve to reduce the amount of drama that I allow my family to experience, and therefore increase the amount of calm and nurturing compassion others might gain from my example.
A step above the negativity is drama. There are a few people in my life that are just bent on creating havoc wherever they go. They say things just to watch fur fly. They do things without any thought to the consequences. Everything becomes more intense, and more hurtful, and more delirious, and more painful, and... and... and... well, you get the idea. Now, I'm a passionately emotional person, so I absolutely understand how things can be more dramatic, but when you completely ignore feelings of those around you? You're a drama-llama, and it is hurtful to those around you, and you're doing damage to yourself.
Reduce: Conflict
I resolve to reduce the instances of conflict that we experience, and therefore increase the amount of conflict resolution that takes place in our life, hopefully settling old problems, and smoothing the way for healing to take place.
Taking it just one step further ... I have some individuals in my life that are just bent on causing conflict. They have started entire wars over their own selfish behaviors and desires, with absolutely no thought to how their abusive lifestyles effect those around them. I have been screamed at more times this year than I have ever in my entire life - all for trying to defend and protect loved ones. No more. Let this be my absolute word - if you try to bring your abusive psychotic stupidity around me or my family, you will be asking for a whole new level of Mama Bear that I'm sure you're not prepared for. (Was that a little much? Meh. Whatever.)
Reduce: Pressure
I resolve to reduce the pressure that I put on myself, so that I can increase the joy I experience in the little things in life - and even when times are difficult.
I'm not just suffering from the frustration caused by others, but I've become a victim of my own abuse. I put entirely too much pressure on myself to do all the things and all the other things, to be on point, to do everything that needs to get done - and then even more. I compensated a lot this year. I tried to make up for all the crud going on by doing bigger and better in other areas. I know the kids and friends appreciated it, but I also know that I wore myself out. I can't do that again this year. I can't twist myself into a thousand directions just so I can not feel bad about the bad stuff.
Reduce: Obligations
I resolve to reduce the obligations that I have made, and not take on a bunch of new obligations, so that I can increase the time I spend with my family and my passions.
When Hubby and I first started dating, I was so intent on impressing the people in his life so that I would be considered worthy to marry him, that I almost killed myself doing everything. I cooked, baked, party planned, set things up, tore things down, went early, left late ... you get the idea. Hubby made me promise to never get into that position again, and for the last ten years I've actually done pretty good. But I'm starting to get in over my head. I'm still holding true to my promise to only do things that I *love* which is good, but I'm still doing too much, and I'm struggling to balance my time out and spend time doing the things I truly love - like spending time with my family, or photography.
~ * ~ * ~
That's all I can think of for now, although I suspect that as the year goes on, I'll probably add a couple of more. Time for me to take out the nonsense and spend more time with God, my family, and myself.
Praying you all have a happy and blessed new year.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Time for court ... again
Well ... time for another round of my favorite game: let's see how long it takes for Yca to lose her ever-loving mind with the people assigned to help children in the state of Florida!! This week, we didn't even have to get to court before I was mad. It happened before I even got there.
We last saw our heroine (me) dealing with a missed aspect of the case plan: the domestic abuse assessment, as well as an intensive parenting class for children with asperger's (this mildly came up during the hearing, but has mostly been brought up in emails over the past month). The judge gave me 30 days to complete domestic assessment, it was supposed to be done before we appeared yesterday. Every single week this month, I have emailed my attorney, and he has then emailed the DCF attorney to remind them that I need this referral. I can't just pick up the phone and call anybody to do this. DCF has to refer me to one of their care providers before I can set up an appointment. The entire month, they didn't give me this referral. Even though I knew that the ball was in their court, I don't have enough faith in the system to trust that I wouldn't get reprimanded. As for the parenting class, I received a letter on Friday stating that *all* of their attempts to reach me have failed, and I had 10 days to get in touch with them, or they would notify the judge that I'm non-compliant. Awesome, considering I don't have a single phone call from them.
To complicate matters ... because, this isn't complicated enough ... my dad got sick last weekend. Saturday night, he called me and said that he wasn't feeling great. By the time I got there, it was obvious that he was quite sick. We decided to take him to the ER, and by the time we got there, he had almost stopped breathing due to the pain. We left Red at home for the evening, with the promise that we would go get him on Sunday and let him visit Dad then. It was an extremely difficult night in the ER, but by the time we left, he was feeling better. (I'll skip to the end here, he got out on Wednesday - he has some gallbladder issues. No surgery for now, but he's seeing an excellent GI who is going to try to teach him medically. I'm *very* optimistic.)
When Red first went to live with Dad, we had several discussions about what would happen should my Dad need to the hospital. When I asked my attorney, he assured me that if Dad ever needed to go, I should contact the DCF case manager and let them know we would need help with Red, and they would take care of him. Dad and I both had separate conversations with the CM, and both times she assured us that if Dad needed to go to the hospital, Red would either go back to the youth shelter (which he was fine with) for a couple of nights, or they would find a respite foster family for Red to stay with while Dad was in the hospital. We were all very comfortable with this plan. But when Sunday came around, and we knew Dad would be in for a few days, events didn't play out quite the way we were promised. After hours of calls and text messages back and forth between me and the CM, she said that if we did either one of the options she had previously given us, it would effectively restart the entire case, they'd have to do another shelter hearing, all kinds of drama. I'll be honest, this is ridiculous. Finally, we came to the conclusion that Hubby could just go stay with Red at my dad's house. As a parent, you know you'll go the ends of the earth for your kids, and Hubby had no issue with this ... but ... there are moments when you roll your eyes, take a deep breath, and lament that the plan of attack at hand is a serious pain in the butt. Obviously, it ended up working out for us all, but the last few days have been stressful, to say the least.
So, this brings us to court last Monday. I walked in with my game face on and ready to battle. I'm just so very tired of all the baloney. I met with my attorney and let hi know what was going on, and he was equally annoyed. The first thing that we covered with the judge was my father's absence. The GAL attorney attacked us and DCF over and over again for protocol not being followed. Apparently, she was angry that no one notified her office. The judge turned his eyes on me and I said, "Your Honor, despite several requests, I don't have contact information for the GAL's office. I contacted the case manager, per my directions, and left it at that." He said that was fine, and I shouldn't have been expected to do anymore than that. (WIN!)
Next was the actual reason we were at court: the domestic assessment. Now, it is important that I state here that I wrote my attorney a scathing email about having to take this class, because their wording in the description made it sound like ... hmmm ... something like a sexual offender. You know, there is a lot of kerfluffle right now because people are fighting the sexual offender label. For example, if a doof got drunk and peed in fountain, he must now carry that label. What he did might have been stupid, but it is quite different behavior than luring children into a van with candy and puppies. If I understood this domestic assessment correctly, I would be labeled as a domestic abuser for life, and I am just NOT ok with that. My attorney asked me to be patient and we'd see what the judge had to say. Luckily, the judge that is handling the DCF case is the same judge that oversees the criminal case. The GAL attorney once again attacked me (dude, I'm so over her - you just don't even know the unkind things I say in my head when she speaks). DCF wants a domestic abuse organization to assess me, but the GAL is worried that they'll treat me as a victim instead of an abuser. (I rolled my eyes AT the judge. He smirked. It was kind of magical.) I responded with, "Your Honor, if you'll remember correctly, you were the finder of fact in the criminal case, and decided that I was the victim. I'm unsure as to why the GAL so desperately wants to deny that. I'm sure that Harbor House is qualified to decide that if I'm not really the victim, they can alert the CM." He kind of snorted a bit and said that they were, indeed, qualified to proceed with the assessment.
He then asked why the assessment hadn't been done yet. I feel the need to repeat at this point that assessment was supposed to have been ~completed~ before we walked into court. I told the judge that I'd contacted my attorney every single week since our last appearance, and had every confidence that my attorney had passed those concerns on to the DCF attorney, yet we still had not been given a provider. The DCF attorney was quite ambivalent about it saying that they would be more than happy to give me the phone number after the hearing. I turned and looked at the judge and said, "So glad that after four weeks of emailing that I drove all the way from Downtown Orlando to Kissimmee so that I could be handed a phone number." ..... and I got another smirk from the judge. The judge asked that we go out into the hallway and make the calls to the providers and make the appointments. Spoiler alert, they've somewhat been taken care of.
In the meantime, the DCF attorney had to subpoena Red's therapist because he hasn't been submitting reports. Oy. The judge called him to the stand and he made no excuses for not filing the reports, and maintains that Red and I shouldn't have any unsupervised contact. ::sigh:: The therapist that does our supervised visits is my therapist, and she things that Red and I are doing very well, and we should have no limitations at all. My therapist also thinks that Red's therapist shouldn't be making these decisions since he has never seen the two of us interact. Good grief.
Finally, I got into something of a kerfluffle with the GAL and a representative from their office. The Friday before we went to court, they called my dad AGAIN and told him that he has no choice but to adopt Red and that I shouldn't have any parental rights ever. I'm fairly certain I put this in my last update, but even the judge told the GAL's office that this wasn't going to happen. So WHY do they keep stressing my dad out? I told them that I didn't appreciate them intimidating my father, and if they called him to harass him again, I would be contacting an attorney and filing suit. Hubby thinks I might have gone too far, and he could be right. But I'm quite done with the level of stupidity this case is reaching, and I really do think that we need to stand together against this corrupt behavior.
Well, that's it for now ... I guess we'll see what is around the next corner ...
We last saw our heroine (me) dealing with a missed aspect of the case plan: the domestic abuse assessment, as well as an intensive parenting class for children with asperger's (this mildly came up during the hearing, but has mostly been brought up in emails over the past month). The judge gave me 30 days to complete domestic assessment, it was supposed to be done before we appeared yesterday. Every single week this month, I have emailed my attorney, and he has then emailed the DCF attorney to remind them that I need this referral. I can't just pick up the phone and call anybody to do this. DCF has to refer me to one of their care providers before I can set up an appointment. The entire month, they didn't give me this referral. Even though I knew that the ball was in their court, I don't have enough faith in the system to trust that I wouldn't get reprimanded. As for the parenting class, I received a letter on Friday stating that *all* of their attempts to reach me have failed, and I had 10 days to get in touch with them, or they would notify the judge that I'm non-compliant. Awesome, considering I don't have a single phone call from them.
To complicate matters ... because, this isn't complicated enough ... my dad got sick last weekend. Saturday night, he called me and said that he wasn't feeling great. By the time I got there, it was obvious that he was quite sick. We decided to take him to the ER, and by the time we got there, he had almost stopped breathing due to the pain. We left Red at home for the evening, with the promise that we would go get him on Sunday and let him visit Dad then. It was an extremely difficult night in the ER, but by the time we left, he was feeling better. (I'll skip to the end here, he got out on Wednesday - he has some gallbladder issues. No surgery for now, but he's seeing an excellent GI who is going to try to teach him medically. I'm *very* optimistic.)
When Red first went to live with Dad, we had several discussions about what would happen should my Dad need to the hospital. When I asked my attorney, he assured me that if Dad ever needed to go, I should contact the DCF case manager and let them know we would need help with Red, and they would take care of him. Dad and I both had separate conversations with the CM, and both times she assured us that if Dad needed to go to the hospital, Red would either go back to the youth shelter (which he was fine with) for a couple of nights, or they would find a respite foster family for Red to stay with while Dad was in the hospital. We were all very comfortable with this plan. But when Sunday came around, and we knew Dad would be in for a few days, events didn't play out quite the way we were promised. After hours of calls and text messages back and forth between me and the CM, she said that if we did either one of the options she had previously given us, it would effectively restart the entire case, they'd have to do another shelter hearing, all kinds of drama. I'll be honest, this is ridiculous. Finally, we came to the conclusion that Hubby could just go stay with Red at my dad's house. As a parent, you know you'll go the ends of the earth for your kids, and Hubby had no issue with this ... but ... there are moments when you roll your eyes, take a deep breath, and lament that the plan of attack at hand is a serious pain in the butt. Obviously, it ended up working out for us all, but the last few days have been stressful, to say the least.
So, this brings us to court last Monday. I walked in with my game face on and ready to battle. I'm just so very tired of all the baloney. I met with my attorney and let hi know what was going on, and he was equally annoyed. The first thing that we covered with the judge was my father's absence. The GAL attorney attacked us and DCF over and over again for protocol not being followed. Apparently, she was angry that no one notified her office. The judge turned his eyes on me and I said, "Your Honor, despite several requests, I don't have contact information for the GAL's office. I contacted the case manager, per my directions, and left it at that." He said that was fine, and I shouldn't have been expected to do anymore than that. (WIN!)
Next was the actual reason we were at court: the domestic assessment. Now, it is important that I state here that I wrote my attorney a scathing email about having to take this class, because their wording in the description made it sound like ... hmmm ... something like a sexual offender. You know, there is a lot of kerfluffle right now because people are fighting the sexual offender label. For example, if a doof got drunk and peed in fountain, he must now carry that label. What he did might have been stupid, but it is quite different behavior than luring children into a van with candy and puppies. If I understood this domestic assessment correctly, I would be labeled as a domestic abuser for life, and I am just NOT ok with that. My attorney asked me to be patient and we'd see what the judge had to say. Luckily, the judge that is handling the DCF case is the same judge that oversees the criminal case. The GAL attorney once again attacked me (dude, I'm so over her - you just don't even know the unkind things I say in my head when she speaks). DCF wants a domestic abuse organization to assess me, but the GAL is worried that they'll treat me as a victim instead of an abuser. (I rolled my eyes AT the judge. He smirked. It was kind of magical.) I responded with, "Your Honor, if you'll remember correctly, you were the finder of fact in the criminal case, and decided that I was the victim. I'm unsure as to why the GAL so desperately wants to deny that. I'm sure that Harbor House is qualified to decide that if I'm not really the victim, they can alert the CM." He kind of snorted a bit and said that they were, indeed, qualified to proceed with the assessment.
He then asked why the assessment hadn't been done yet. I feel the need to repeat at this point that assessment was supposed to have been ~completed~ before we walked into court. I told the judge that I'd contacted my attorney every single week since our last appearance, and had every confidence that my attorney had passed those concerns on to the DCF attorney, yet we still had not been given a provider. The DCF attorney was quite ambivalent about it saying that they would be more than happy to give me the phone number after the hearing. I turned and looked at the judge and said, "So glad that after four weeks of emailing that I drove all the way from Downtown Orlando to Kissimmee so that I could be handed a phone number." ..... and I got another smirk from the judge. The judge asked that we go out into the hallway and make the calls to the providers and make the appointments. Spoiler alert, they've somewhat been taken care of.
In the meantime, the DCF attorney had to subpoena Red's therapist because he hasn't been submitting reports. Oy. The judge called him to the stand and he made no excuses for not filing the reports, and maintains that Red and I shouldn't have any unsupervised contact. ::sigh:: The therapist that does our supervised visits is my therapist, and she things that Red and I are doing very well, and we should have no limitations at all. My therapist also thinks that Red's therapist shouldn't be making these decisions since he has never seen the two of us interact. Good grief.
Finally, I got into something of a kerfluffle with the GAL and a representative from their office. The Friday before we went to court, they called my dad AGAIN and told him that he has no choice but to adopt Red and that I shouldn't have any parental rights ever. I'm fairly certain I put this in my last update, but even the judge told the GAL's office that this wasn't going to happen. So WHY do they keep stressing my dad out? I told them that I didn't appreciate them intimidating my father, and if they called him to harass him again, I would be contacting an attorney and filing suit. Hubby thinks I might have gone too far, and he could be right. But I'm quite done with the level of stupidity this case is reaching, and I really do think that we need to stand together against this corrupt behavior.
Well, that's it for now ... I guess we'll see what is around the next corner ...
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Professionalism
I don't judge anyone by their religion, skin color, or where they're from. I don't care how smart you are, how much you make, what kind of car you drive, or where you buy your clothes from. You want to know what REALLY matters to me? How you treat your family and your friends, and the people you pass on the street. Also? The relationships you have with your customers or clients, and how you treat your superiors - in front of them or behind their backs.
Let me get one thing straight here: whether you are a high-powered attorney or world-renowned surgeon, or you work the counter at a fast food restaurant or are a janitor ... if you have one hundred employees, one hundred bosses, or you work for yourself ... ALL of you (all of US!) have to answer to SOMEONE. I started working when I was 16 in retail, and since then I have also worked in fast food, theme parks, and law firms. I had bosses and customers at every stage. When I was a paralegal, my "customers" were the clients that hired my attorneys, and they were other paralegals, attorneys, and judges. Now, Hubby and I have a photography business. Technically, I answer to him, since his name is on the business, but we answer to our clients - making sure we give them the best experience and the best product possible.
I say all of this to say that when people are jerks to the people paying them for whatever product or service, I just lose my ever-loving mind. I truly believe that is why I'm struggling so much with all of these issues with the DCF case manager. In case you've missed it, or because I know I haven't listed everything that has transpired, let us just discuss a few points here:
~ Do not play on your cell phone while I'm trying to tell you that my child is not adjusting well under the circumstances he's in.
~ Do not promise to provide clothes for my child, be reminded repeatedly about that promise, and ::six months later:: still not deliver.
~ Do not tell my father that you are unable to help him with the insurance issues that you caused him. For the love of pete, at least give him a phone number of someone who can.
~ Please learn how to process paperwork so that our service providers have all of the correct information on myself, my son, all others involved.
~ Additionally, please make sure that you can process payment information so that our service providers are paid and don't bail on us and leave us flapping in the wind.
~ Do not lie about phone conversations that never happened.
~ Listen to us when we tell you that the therapies aren't working, and we need to discuss different tactics ... we are with him, you are not. AND you are NOT a therapist.
~ When my father tells you that I'm doing one thing, do not call my attorney and berate him telling him an entirely different story. We ALL know that you're lying, and we're ALL going to bust you on them.
And, as a special side note to your managers ... please note ... when your employee screws up (you know, like having to be removed from my residence by the police?) an apology is most certainly in order. I had no thoughts of suing you despite your employee's egregious behavior, but you can bet your last red nickel that I am, and will continue to, notify every single politician in this state that the DCF system MUST change. It is idiots like you who are responsible for the deaths and mistreatment of children all over our state.
Customer service, people. Doctors, lawyers, fast food, retail ... and social workers. Take care of your customers. Because sometimes, a lawsuit won't be the answer and your insurance will mean nothing. Sometimes, someone will come along that is smarter and more determined than you can imagine.
Let me get one thing straight here: whether you are a high-powered attorney or world-renowned surgeon, or you work the counter at a fast food restaurant or are a janitor ... if you have one hundred employees, one hundred bosses, or you work for yourself ... ALL of you (all of US!) have to answer to SOMEONE. I started working when I was 16 in retail, and since then I have also worked in fast food, theme parks, and law firms. I had bosses and customers at every stage. When I was a paralegal, my "customers" were the clients that hired my attorneys, and they were other paralegals, attorneys, and judges. Now, Hubby and I have a photography business. Technically, I answer to him, since his name is on the business, but we answer to our clients - making sure we give them the best experience and the best product possible.
I say all of this to say that when people are jerks to the people paying them for whatever product or service, I just lose my ever-loving mind. I truly believe that is why I'm struggling so much with all of these issues with the DCF case manager. In case you've missed it, or because I know I haven't listed everything that has transpired, let us just discuss a few points here:
~ Do not play on your cell phone while I'm trying to tell you that my child is not adjusting well under the circumstances he's in.
~ Do not promise to provide clothes for my child, be reminded repeatedly about that promise, and ::six months later:: still not deliver.
~ Do not tell my father that you are unable to help him with the insurance issues that you caused him. For the love of pete, at least give him a phone number of someone who can.
~ Please learn how to process paperwork so that our service providers have all of the correct information on myself, my son, all others involved.
~ Additionally, please make sure that you can process payment information so that our service providers are paid and don't bail on us and leave us flapping in the wind.
~ Do not lie about phone conversations that never happened.
~ Listen to us when we tell you that the therapies aren't working, and we need to discuss different tactics ... we are with him, you are not. AND you are NOT a therapist.
~ When my father tells you that I'm doing one thing, do not call my attorney and berate him telling him an entirely different story. We ALL know that you're lying, and we're ALL going to bust you on them.
And, as a special side note to your managers ... please note ... when your employee screws up (you know, like having to be removed from my residence by the police?) an apology is most certainly in order. I had no thoughts of suing you despite your employee's egregious behavior, but you can bet your last red nickel that I am, and will continue to, notify every single politician in this state that the DCF system MUST change. It is idiots like you who are responsible for the deaths and mistreatment of children all over our state.
Customer service, people. Doctors, lawyers, fast food, retail ... and social workers. Take care of your customers. Because sometimes, a lawsuit won't be the answer and your insurance will mean nothing. Sometimes, someone will come along that is smarter and more determined than you can imagine.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
A Victorious Battle within the War
I know I haven't updated the blog, but we'll just have to play catch up some other time. Basically, I had a Judicial Review today to see if I'm compliant with the case plan that DCF had set out for me. The case has gone so wrong and so stupid, that I knew that we'd have several issues to discuss today, and I was a nervous wreck.
I've said this before, and I will say it again ... I seriously have the best friends EVER. Today was soooo intense, and soooo stressful. By the time I got to the courthouse, I was wound tighter than an eight-day-clock. I sat down with my attorney, and he looked at me point-blank and said, "So much has happened with this case, and even I don't know all the details. You're going to do most of the talking." ACK!!! Ummmm .... errrrr .... ok. They called our case, and as I approached the stand, I felt this huge wave of calm crash over me. Thank you so much, praying friends, I could feel every single one of you lifting us up!!! So, these are the basics:
1. The first words out of the DCF attorney's mouth were that I was not being compliant with scheduling the therapeutic visits for me and Red. She barely got the sentence out, the judge turned his eyes to me, and I opened up. My words were confident and strong: Your Honor, please let me inform you that this is NOT a matter of my scheduling these visits, I would love nothing more. The case manager in charge of our case spent the better part of four months not doing our paperwork so that the therapist was assigned, had her paperwork, and was properly funded. Our caseworker also spent that time ignoring phone calls and emails, and telling everyone that ***I*** was the one being the problem. Our last official visit was May 14 of this year. I've been trying to get the visits scheduled since that time. Just this past week, the paperwork was finally submitted correctly, and we had our visit this past Sunday. ... The judge was not pleased that this is what had transpired. While he didn't admonish the caseworker from the bench (I'll admit it, I would have gotten a wee bit of pleasure out of it), you could tell that he was upset. I can safely say that there will no longer be an issue with making sure our service providers are in order.
2. The next issue up at bat was if I had completed all of the aspects of my case plan. There is one outstanding issue: a domestic abuse class that had not been assigned to me. It was in the case plan, but no one had brought it up or sent me a referral. My attorney admitted to the judge that it had even escaped his attention, as it had been something of a side note scribbled in and not typed up and formal. The judge asked if I knew about it, and I said that I was not aware that it was a separate thing that needed to be done, I had thought it was just part of all the other counseling we had done. He's given DCF - and me - 30 days to get this assigned and completed. We have to go back to court October 28th to make sure that it is taken care of.
3. The attorney for the guardian ad litem's office spoke up next and said that her office is quite upset with the fact that Red has been participating in family activities without the supervision of the therapist. She said that she had spoken to Red's primary therapist and he was adamant that Red and I spend NO time together AT ALL (seriously, she was shouting) without a therapist present. DCF's attorney chimed in, actually in my defense (scary, right?), stating that "The Grandfather" (my dad, where Red is living) doesn't have transportation, and she had spoken at great length with Dad. The events that I had wanted to attend were school activities, meetings with teachers (like the conference my Dad went to last week with Red's algebra teacher), and medical appointments. The DCF attorney was quite clear in saying that both my Dad and Red had expressed interest in me attending these events. After she finished speaking, I took the floor and said that at no time are Red and I are ever alone together. When we transport Red, it is always me and Hubby, at the very least, and often the other three kids and my Dad are there, as well. Neither one of us are comfortable spending one-on-one time together yet, so that shouldn't be a concern. The judge took all of that into consideration, but would like to hear from Red's therapist and from my therapist (who does our supervised visits) before deciding to lift the restrictions. That was fair.
4. Finally, the DCF attorney said that after several conversations with my Dad, she wanted to make sure we were all on the same page regarding the final disposition of the case. Yesterday morning, Dad spoke with the DCF attorney, and they were looking at permanent guardianship. Basically, Red will live with my Dad until he turns 18, and Dad takes care of all of his needs. I would retain my parental rights and still be Mom. If it is easier, it would be very similar to joint custody in a divorce ... with my Dad having residential custody. Obviously, there are a few differences, but that is the closest that I can compare it to. My Dad made it very clear that he wants me to be as active as I possibly can in Red's life, they both want me there by his side. The DCF attorney essentially summarized this to the judge. The judge agreed with what she said and questioned why this would even be a discussion. I spoke up at that point: Your Honor, yesterday afternoon, I received a phone call from a member of the GAL's office. I was told that I had two options, either Red comes back to live with me or I would need to surrender my parental rights. The attorney for the GAL tried to argue, but I shut her down. I said that it didn't matter to me what they felt was going on, I had been threatened, and as long as we continued to have communication breakdowns like these, we were never going to get anywhere. The judge agreed, and made sure that everyone understood that from here on out, everyone needs to communicate clearly and effectively and not threaten anyone with rights and responsibilities.
The judge was not amused by anything that happened today. As I said, we go back in October to see if this domestic abuse class has been taken care of, and then we have yet another judicial review in February, and hopefully that is when the case will be closed.
I will never be able to thank you all for all the prayers and thoughts y'all sent me. I have a distinct fear of speaking up for myself in front of the judge, and I was able to speak clearly and confidently today, and not let them take any ground away from me. This battle was won in my favor ... but the war is still not over. Until next time ....
I've said this before, and I will say it again ... I seriously have the best friends EVER. Today was soooo intense, and soooo stressful. By the time I got to the courthouse, I was wound tighter than an eight-day-clock. I sat down with my attorney, and he looked at me point-blank and said, "So much has happened with this case, and even I don't know all the details. You're going to do most of the talking." ACK!!! Ummmm .... errrrr .... ok. They called our case, and as I approached the stand, I felt this huge wave of calm crash over me. Thank you so much, praying friends, I could feel every single one of you lifting us up!!! So, these are the basics:
1. The first words out of the DCF attorney's mouth were that I was not being compliant with scheduling the therapeutic visits for me and Red. She barely got the sentence out, the judge turned his eyes to me, and I opened up. My words were confident and strong: Your Honor, please let me inform you that this is NOT a matter of my scheduling these visits, I would love nothing more. The case manager in charge of our case spent the better part of four months not doing our paperwork so that the therapist was assigned, had her paperwork, and was properly funded. Our caseworker also spent that time ignoring phone calls and emails, and telling everyone that ***I*** was the one being the problem. Our last official visit was May 14 of this year. I've been trying to get the visits scheduled since that time. Just this past week, the paperwork was finally submitted correctly, and we had our visit this past Sunday. ... The judge was not pleased that this is what had transpired. While he didn't admonish the caseworker from the bench (I'll admit it, I would have gotten a wee bit of pleasure out of it), you could tell that he was upset. I can safely say that there will no longer be an issue with making sure our service providers are in order.
2. The next issue up at bat was if I had completed all of the aspects of my case plan. There is one outstanding issue: a domestic abuse class that had not been assigned to me. It was in the case plan, but no one had brought it up or sent me a referral. My attorney admitted to the judge that it had even escaped his attention, as it had been something of a side note scribbled in and not typed up and formal. The judge asked if I knew about it, and I said that I was not aware that it was a separate thing that needed to be done, I had thought it was just part of all the other counseling we had done. He's given DCF - and me - 30 days to get this assigned and completed. We have to go back to court October 28th to make sure that it is taken care of.
3. The attorney for the guardian ad litem's office spoke up next and said that her office is quite upset with the fact that Red has been participating in family activities without the supervision of the therapist. She said that she had spoken to Red's primary therapist and he was adamant that Red and I spend NO time together AT ALL (seriously, she was shouting) without a therapist present. DCF's attorney chimed in, actually in my defense (scary, right?), stating that "The Grandfather" (my dad, where Red is living) doesn't have transportation, and she had spoken at great length with Dad. The events that I had wanted to attend were school activities, meetings with teachers (like the conference my Dad went to last week with Red's algebra teacher), and medical appointments. The DCF attorney was quite clear in saying that both my Dad and Red had expressed interest in me attending these events. After she finished speaking, I took the floor and said that at no time are Red and I are ever alone together. When we transport Red, it is always me and Hubby, at the very least, and often the other three kids and my Dad are there, as well. Neither one of us are comfortable spending one-on-one time together yet, so that shouldn't be a concern. The judge took all of that into consideration, but would like to hear from Red's therapist and from my therapist (who does our supervised visits) before deciding to lift the restrictions. That was fair.
4. Finally, the DCF attorney said that after several conversations with my Dad, she wanted to make sure we were all on the same page regarding the final disposition of the case. Yesterday morning, Dad spoke with the DCF attorney, and they were looking at permanent guardianship. Basically, Red will live with my Dad until he turns 18, and Dad takes care of all of his needs. I would retain my parental rights and still be Mom. If it is easier, it would be very similar to joint custody in a divorce ... with my Dad having residential custody. Obviously, there are a few differences, but that is the closest that I can compare it to. My Dad made it very clear that he wants me to be as active as I possibly can in Red's life, they both want me there by his side. The DCF attorney essentially summarized this to the judge. The judge agreed with what she said and questioned why this would even be a discussion. I spoke up at that point: Your Honor, yesterday afternoon, I received a phone call from a member of the GAL's office. I was told that I had two options, either Red comes back to live with me or I would need to surrender my parental rights. The attorney for the GAL tried to argue, but I shut her down. I said that it didn't matter to me what they felt was going on, I had been threatened, and as long as we continued to have communication breakdowns like these, we were never going to get anywhere. The judge agreed, and made sure that everyone understood that from here on out, everyone needs to communicate clearly and effectively and not threaten anyone with rights and responsibilities.
The judge was not amused by anything that happened today. As I said, we go back in October to see if this domestic abuse class has been taken care of, and then we have yet another judicial review in February, and hopefully that is when the case will be closed.
I will never be able to thank you all for all the prayers and thoughts y'all sent me. I have a distinct fear of speaking up for myself in front of the judge, and I was able to speak clearly and confidently today, and not let them take any ground away from me. This battle was won in my favor ... but the war is still not over. Until next time ....
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Looking Towards East Africa
Have I told y'all that I want to go to Africa? I hope you would have heard me saying something about it by now. I never knew I wanted to go to Africa. I always said that if God wanted me to do any sort of missions work it would be to a first world country that just needed more Christians. Like ... Paris. Or somewhere in Greece. On the beach. A Bible in one hand, staring out at the gorgeous crystal blue water, just having had some fresh fish.
Wait ... where was I? Oh yeah. Africa. ;)
I've heard a lot of stories from missionaries over the years, and my heart has always gone out to the people I heard about. I've heard stories from Cambodia, Russia, Malaysia, China, Syria, and beyond who are starving, have no clean water, dying of debilitating diseases, and selling their children into prostitution. I have spent hours on my knees in prayer and in tears for the hearts and lives of those so far away. But even with all of those stories, with knowing people who were traveling to these far off places, I never once felt the need to pack my bags and go. Never once did I run into my closet and start tossing things in and searched for affordable tickets to go to a city that was within three days' travel to some third-world country where I was obviously going to fly in with bags of rice and become a hero. Not my thing. I've always been, "You can't serve across the world until you serve across the street," and the past few years I've focused on helping those around me when I could.
Then, our dear friend Brandon sat down with me and told me about his dream to go to Kenya. Someday soon, I'll have him guest post and tell you his own story, because, I really can't do it justice. The more he spoke about getting back to Kenya and the surrounding areas in Eastern Africa, the more I knew I wanted to go with him. I learned that in the last century, the world has really done a lot to hurt the African continent. We tore apart the country for slaves, we slaughtered their animals, and then tried to "save" them. We failed. We all failed. Then we tried to overcompensate. My favorite example is loser's t-shirts. You know when it's time for the Superbowl or World Series or NBA Championship game and the t-shirt manufacturers print up t-shirts for the winning teams? Well, there's always a loser. The loser's shirts get sent off to third-world countries. Charitable of us, yes? Well ... yes. Except ... for each one of those villagers that receive a shirt, they don't need to buy clothing from their local villager who crafts clothing. So, while some of the villagers have clothes, their is one family who now has no income. Oy. Awesome. This is kind of a simplistic example, but I'll provide more as our story unfolds.
Africa doesn't need our t-shirts or for us to come in and take over. What Africa needs is for us to help them educate themselves so that they can fix the huge problems that they're facing. Africa needs to be equipped with the tools they need to grow stronger. That's where Brandon's project has really shed some new light on how we help third-world countries. The key to success is in the children - because they have the power to change the future. They need to be fed and educated, and then shown that they can be the change - they can BE the difference. And yeah, we could go over there with bags of rice and books .... OR .... we can ensure that they have the tools to start, and that they know how to replenish those tools when needed. We need to start in the schools and orphanages, because they usually are the most disadvantaged - and they should always be a priority! We're going to start by connecting with already established organizations so that we can help them keep going with the work they're already doing. But we can only go up from there.
I gotta tell you, I can't be more excited! Not only about the prospect of going to Africa - because, that in and of itself is extraordinarily exciting - but by all of the work that will be going along with it as well. This isn't going to be just one trip, this is going to be a lifetime commitment of work. Eventually, I'll know roads between villages as well as I know our local interstate. My children are going to be visiting with us. I'll be able to take my grandchildren to see decades worth of work - and maybe even one of them will carry on this work. And it doesn't stop with just going over there, we'll be working on other projects that will coincide with this, as well.
I'm about to embark on a life journey. I hope you'll join me.
Time to spread fluffy bunnies to the rest of the world!!!
(or ... at least Eastern Africa! lol)
Equip Africa Project!!
Wait ... where was I? Oh yeah. Africa. ;)
I've heard a lot of stories from missionaries over the years, and my heart has always gone out to the people I heard about. I've heard stories from Cambodia, Russia, Malaysia, China, Syria, and beyond who are starving, have no clean water, dying of debilitating diseases, and selling their children into prostitution. I have spent hours on my knees in prayer and in tears for the hearts and lives of those so far away. But even with all of those stories, with knowing people who were traveling to these far off places, I never once felt the need to pack my bags and go. Never once did I run into my closet and start tossing things in and searched for affordable tickets to go to a city that was within three days' travel to some third-world country where I was obviously going to fly in with bags of rice and become a hero. Not my thing. I've always been, "You can't serve across the world until you serve across the street," and the past few years I've focused on helping those around me when I could.
Then, our dear friend Brandon sat down with me and told me about his dream to go to Kenya. Someday soon, I'll have him guest post and tell you his own story, because, I really can't do it justice. The more he spoke about getting back to Kenya and the surrounding areas in Eastern Africa, the more I knew I wanted to go with him. I learned that in the last century, the world has really done a lot to hurt the African continent. We tore apart the country for slaves, we slaughtered their animals, and then tried to "save" them. We failed. We all failed. Then we tried to overcompensate. My favorite example is loser's t-shirts. You know when it's time for the Superbowl or World Series or NBA Championship game and the t-shirt manufacturers print up t-shirts for the winning teams? Well, there's always a loser. The loser's shirts get sent off to third-world countries. Charitable of us, yes? Well ... yes. Except ... for each one of those villagers that receive a shirt, they don't need to buy clothing from their local villager who crafts clothing. So, while some of the villagers have clothes, their is one family who now has no income. Oy. Awesome. This is kind of a simplistic example, but I'll provide more as our story unfolds.
Africa doesn't need our t-shirts or for us to come in and take over. What Africa needs is for us to help them educate themselves so that they can fix the huge problems that they're facing. Africa needs to be equipped with the tools they need to grow stronger. That's where Brandon's project has really shed some new light on how we help third-world countries. The key to success is in the children - because they have the power to change the future. They need to be fed and educated, and then shown that they can be the change - they can BE the difference. And yeah, we could go over there with bags of rice and books .... OR .... we can ensure that they have the tools to start, and that they know how to replenish those tools when needed. We need to start in the schools and orphanages, because they usually are the most disadvantaged - and they should always be a priority! We're going to start by connecting with already established organizations so that we can help them keep going with the work they're already doing. But we can only go up from there.
I gotta tell you, I can't be more excited! Not only about the prospect of going to Africa - because, that in and of itself is extraordinarily exciting - but by all of the work that will be going along with it as well. This isn't going to be just one trip, this is going to be a lifetime commitment of work. Eventually, I'll know roads between villages as well as I know our local interstate. My children are going to be visiting with us. I'll be able to take my grandchildren to see decades worth of work - and maybe even one of them will carry on this work. And it doesn't stop with just going over there, we'll be working on other projects that will coincide with this, as well.
I'm about to embark on a life journey. I hope you'll join me.
Time to spread fluffy bunnies to the rest of the world!!!
(or ... at least Eastern Africa! lol)
Equip Africa Project!!
Monday, July 21, 2014
Jax and the Strawberry Shortcake
The other day I blogged about the awesome tasting event for the new menu at Jax 5th Avenue in Lake Mary. I ended on a bittersweet note - I discussed the awesomeness that was the strawberry shortcake, but was sooooo very sad that I didn't have a picture to share with you. Tonight? They shared this picture on their Facebook page. Don't drool into your keyboard, you'll hurt it.
You're welcome.
xo
Friday, July 18, 2014
Jax ... is better!
First of all, let me just say that this post is horribly overdue ... but, I'm hoping my good friend will give me a pass considering the week I've had ;)
Sooooo .... I got invited to my very first ever social networking event!! ohmygosh - I can't even tell you how much fun I had!! Before I even say another thing, I want to give a huge big thank you to Eric over at Purple Moon Media for deeming me worthy enough to invite. You are the awesomest, Eric!!! Just look at how happy we are ;)
AND ... a second apology for the fuzziness of the pictures. I was taking these with my phone, and was supposed to be tweeting these, but I apparently broke Twitter. Not one single tweet went through. I was soooooo annoyed. So, instead of getting an awesome stream of consciousness babbling live, y'all have to wait for me to do it in one whole blog. Maybe I should apologize a third time, too. *snort*
So, I grabbed my buddy Brandon and we headed to Jax 5th Ave of Lake Mary. I was incredibly excited, because I knew the food was going to be phenomenal. We started with a drink - some of us obviously take our beer selections more seriously than others.
And then the food started showing up. Y'all, I knew we were going to eat, but I was not prepared. There was no way I could even begin to prepare for the onslaught of insane yumminess that was about to bombard our table! I love me some good pub food. I know most people think it is so boring and so overdone, but when it is done really well, it can be just as fantastic as a dinner at any fancy-schmancy place you can imagine. Jax? They do it really well!
When you sit down at the table, they bring you a jar of homemade pickles. They are so fresh and so crisp! They pickle them right there on the property, and you just haven't eaten until you've eaten a FRESH pickle! Like I said, sometimes the simple things really can be the key!
If fresh pickles aren't enough for you, they have them fried. Alright, I know what you're thinking, because I thought the same thing. This whole fried pickle craze ... oy. I mean, anyone can throw a pickle in some batter and fry it, and it tastes like ... well ... just fried food. But these are so different. They are so crisp! In fact, let me tell you just how crisp they are. We were running really late to the event. Brandon got out of his meeting late and had to drive all the way from Celebration to College Park to pick me up, and then we were off to Lake Mary. In rush hour traffic - in the rain. Y'all know that this was a schlep and a half to get there. By the time we arrived, appetizers had already been served, and we were able to get the last couple of pickles. I just knew they'd be soggy and cold and icky. I readied myself for the worst. Holyshmoke was I surprised! They were still a bit warm (not hot, because seriously, we were late) ... but the crispyness of the batter around the pickle! Brandon and I were both totally shocked. I can only imagine how yummy these things are right out of the batter!! We also had some of chicken wings - Hubby's favorite!! These were the "Tropical Thunder" flavor. So sweet when you first bite into them, and then suddenly they bite right back! YUM! Those are flakes of coconut you see sprinkled on the wing. Quite possibly my favorite part. No, wait, my favorite part is that wings on Monday and Friday are 50cents!! (select hours, check their site for times)
Are you ready for a sandwich and some salad? We were! This is the Chef Salad. I was very curious when this was put down in front of me. First of all, there's no way for you to even see how HUGE this bowl is. Secondly, um ... what are those big white things all over the top of the salad?
Oh ... wait!! That's *cheese*!! Umm... that's some fantastic cheese. The rest of the salad is really good, too. But, seriously, it starts with the cheese ;)
We also had the Monster Roast Beef Wrap. They weren't kidding. My hubby is a champion eater, and I think this thing would put him over the edge. This dish is one of those things I would get for dinner and then have leftovers for lunch the next day. I think there is an entire cow's worth of roast beef. I was impressed with the flavor of the beef, and the freshness of the ingredients with it: provolone, shrooms, ranch dressing... so good! You can see pictures of it under these yummy little sips of "Dirty Beaver" we were trying out. I would love to tell you what was in it, but now I've forgotten. I know it was a French liquor of some sort.
And let's not forget the burger! The Jax Burger is just my favorite kind of burger: 1/2lb of fresh ground beef, swiss cheese, bacon, shrooms, onions, and an onion roll. I can't even tell you how much this is my favorite flavor combo for burgers. I will order this hands down every single time. But of all the burgers I've had, Jax's is by far the most flavorful. The bacon was super crisp, and you can just tell that the ingredients are of a higher quality. Check it out!
Now, y'all know that my highlight of the night was dessert, but, before I get there, I have to say that the meal was topped by the prime rib. I don't often order prime rib, because ... well ... because I'm cheap. (I'll admit it, I have very little shame.) This prime rib was worthy enough to be on the table of a steak house. It melted like butter, just as it is supposed to. I was really impressed. It isn't often that you can walk into a pub-style bar with food and order a really decent piece of meat.
And one last thing before I get to the desserts, Brandon wanted me to show you that his favorite part was the water glasses. Because, when you're eating amazing food and drinking lots of beer, you need to be hydrated, and he finds it annoying when the waitress brings you a tiny little glass of water. Not Jax. They brought Brandon such a big cup that he said, "You gotta take a picture! It makes my hand look tiny!" smh. Indeed, Brandon .... Indeed. ;)
Now ... last, but certainly not least ... the desserts. Again, I was pleased that the selections were familiar, but there was a unique take on all of them. The Brownie Sandwich seems just like a simple brownie with ice cream and whipped cream, topped with chocolate chips and syrup ... and maybe it is just that simple. But the brownie is homemade, and super delicious. The serving is huge - it took all four of us at the table to take care of it. Although, I'll be honest, the way all four of us like chocolate, I'm sure one of could have eaten the whole thing .......... but for all the burger and fried pickle and prime rib ... ;)
We also had the Fried Cheese Cake Sundae. Yummmmmmmm. Yeah, you can never really go wrong with fried. cheesecake. and a martini glass. The fact that the cheese cake bits are bananas foster makes it so much better. Then, of course, you're topping it with whipped cream and chcolate syrup ... all over the vanilla ice cream. Holy cow.
Believe it or not, that was not my favorite dessert. And, I'm super sad to say that I totally forgot to get a picture of what my favorite was. Hashtag blogger fail. I know. My favorite was actually the strawberry shortcake. Wait, what?! I know, right?! I love strawberry shortcake, but like most of my female contemporaries, I quickly pass it over whenever I see words like "chocolate" and "cheese cake". I can honestly say that I would order this dessert before the other two. The sponge cake was super moist and bouncy - just the way grandma made it! The layers of strawberry puree frosting was really good, and you can tell some attention is given to it. Topped with whipped cream and fresh sliced strawberries, it really was the way to finish off an event on a hot summer night. THAT is what Florida is supposed to taste like.
Overall, I am incredibly impressed by the extensive menu at Jax. This is not your everyday bar where maybe you can grab a bite while you're there. Jax is a place you go to eat and enjoy the more than 60 craft beers on tap. You will certainly see Hubby and me there - probably on a Monday or Friday evening for 50cent wings ;) .... and strawberry shortcake ..... and prime rib .... and the Jax burger. ;) I would be amiss if I didn't mention the great service we had, and the fun trivia night that was going on while we were there. The atmosphere was fantastic, and we really did have a great time.
Thank you, Jax! Can't wait to see you again!
And thank you, Eric! See you soon!!
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Anger
I've been taught that the Bible instructs me that anger isn't a sin, but what comes from your anger can be sinful.
Today, I have sinned.
Today, my anger with the situation with Red, and with another frustrating situation going on (that I can't write about, sorry. Maybe someday.) ... everything overflowed. I spent most of the day doing some miscellaneous chores, and puttering on the computer. I didn't get anything significant accomplished. And then tonight, I blew up. I yelled at Princess for something that is beyond her control, and I yelled at the Ex. No, I don't agree with how he's handling things right now, and I'm honest about that. But should I have yelled at either of them? No. Not even a little bit.
Sidebar: Ex and Princess, if you are reading this, I truly am sorry. I'll be giving both of you more personal apologies in the morning. But ... wanted to get it out there. xo
After that, I had to stop and think why I'm really angry. I'm angry at the system. I'm angry at the way Red's case worker acts like she doesn't even care - seriously, she left the courtroom in the middle of the trial. She didn't even stick around to see what happened. I know her caseload is heavy, but give me a flippin break. She doesn't act like she cares at ALL.
I'm angry at the judicial system and the hoops we have to jump through to be able to get Red the help he needs. I'm angry that the judge is going to flip out on me because of things that haven't been completed in our case plan - like counseling. But I can't get the counseling, the caseworker is supposed to set that up, and she hasn't.
I'm just angry.
And oh so sad.
Again, I know that there is going to be an end to this, and that good things are going to come out of this. But the walk getting there is not easy. It is filled with burdens and fears, it is overwhelmed with exhaustion and sadness. But I know I can do it. I'm doing it with all of you that have sent me messages of love and encouragement. Friends that have told me they're in similar boats and have looked to me for guidance. (me?!? what?!?! are you people crazy?!? lol)
So, the real question is what to do with my anger until then? I'm considering buying a punching bag and some gloves ;)
Today, I have sinned.
Today, my anger with the situation with Red, and with another frustrating situation going on (that I can't write about, sorry. Maybe someday.) ... everything overflowed. I spent most of the day doing some miscellaneous chores, and puttering on the computer. I didn't get anything significant accomplished. And then tonight, I blew up. I yelled at Princess for something that is beyond her control, and I yelled at the Ex. No, I don't agree with how he's handling things right now, and I'm honest about that. But should I have yelled at either of them? No. Not even a little bit.
Sidebar: Ex and Princess, if you are reading this, I truly am sorry. I'll be giving both of you more personal apologies in the morning. But ... wanted to get it out there. xo
After that, I had to stop and think why I'm really angry. I'm angry at the system. I'm angry at the way Red's case worker acts like she doesn't even care - seriously, she left the courtroom in the middle of the trial. She didn't even stick around to see what happened. I know her caseload is heavy, but give me a flippin break. She doesn't act like she cares at ALL.
I'm angry at the judicial system and the hoops we have to jump through to be able to get Red the help he needs. I'm angry that the judge is going to flip out on me because of things that haven't been completed in our case plan - like counseling. But I can't get the counseling, the caseworker is supposed to set that up, and she hasn't.
I'm just angry.
And oh so sad.
Again, I know that there is going to be an end to this, and that good things are going to come out of this. But the walk getting there is not easy. It is filled with burdens and fears, it is overwhelmed with exhaustion and sadness. But I know I can do it. I'm doing it with all of you that have sent me messages of love and encouragement. Friends that have told me they're in similar boats and have looked to me for guidance. (me?!? what?!?! are you people crazy?!? lol)
So, the real question is what to do with my anger until then? I'm considering buying a punching bag and some gloves ;)
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Court Day
Well ... after months of frustration, confusion, and prayer, Court Day for Red finally happened. I was a ball of stress yesterday. Like most, the unknown is what terrorizes me most. The closer it got to time to leave, the more my stomach turned into giant knots.
For those of you that are new here, and as a refresher for others, Red had two charges pending against him in criminal court: one count of domestic battery (the fight with me) and one count of fraudulent use of a debit card (my dad's). It didn't matter what was going to happen when we got there, it was going to suck. I *knew* it was going to suck. But, I guess I just wasn't prepared for the level of suck it was going to be. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever experienced a level of sucktastic as we went through yesterday.
If you haven't read the whole story, it starts HERE and continues for two additional posts.
For the past few months, when my father and I have discussed the circumstances, we have agreed that this entire situation is sad and difficult, but it would be important for Red to experience the consequences of his actions. When we got to court, the prosecutor had informed me that the entire time, my dad had been calling her office repeatedly, trying to get the fraud charges against Red dropped. I was so frustrated. Look, I don't *want* to see my kid in trouble - no mother does! But, I have held closely to the fact that if you're going to go against the grain, you gotta face the music that comes along with it. Red has a narcissistic trait that makes him feel like he's above reproach, and that is one of the biggest reasons I needed to follow through with this, and I thought my dad had agreed. Apparently not. I was upset that he had lied to me - telling me the entire time that he was going to follow through with the charges, all while hounding the state. I was also upset with his reasoning. He testified on the record that Red is his "sole heir" and because everything he has is Red's anyway, there's no reason at all why Red can't just go ahead and spend his money. SERIOUSLY?!? What about the four pages of insufficient funds charges, and the fact that Hubby and I had to buy his groceries for two weeks because of the hole Red dug him into? I guess that doesn't mean anything. I know, I sound bitter. Well ... I AM bitter. How in the world am I supposed to teach Red to be honest and have integrity when his own grandfather turns 180's like a figure skater and lies to judges?
*head desk*
After we got through that catastrophe, it was time to deal with the domestic battery case. Oy. I just ... I just ... I don't have words. The prosecutor offered Red a deal, and he decided to refuse it. Which meant we were going to go to trial. Seriously? I was heart-broken. I just couldn't even conceive how bad this was going to be. Until ... it got worse. I was patiently waiting for the judge's assistant to give us a date when the trial would be. And then, suddenly, I realized ... it wasn't going to be scheduled - it was going to happen RIGHT NOW.
What?
Wait ... what? Are you kidding me? Um ... ok. Here we go. I almost had a nervous breakdown right there. I was very thankful for the prosecutor though. She squeezed my hand, and went to work. Hubby and Dad had to leave because they were potential witnesses. I felt very alone. Hubby had been a real Prince the entire time, not leaving my side, arm around me for support ... and I watched him walk out the door. I took a deep breath, and then remembered I wasn't alone. Not really. Hubby wasn't there to hold my hand, but God was with me. I was still very concerned, but I knew that whatever was going to happen, things would be alright.
The prosecutor called the investigating police officer first. He spoke about the marks on my arm and on my back. The defense attorney, on cross, tried to rise reasonable doubt that Red caused the marks, that maybe they were caused by the paramedics or the hospital staff, but he stayed strong. Then, it was my turn. I couldn't look at Red. I knew if I did, I would cave. So, I stared straight at the prosecutor. I had to recount the entire evening. I hated it. Every last second of it. I'm so grateful to the prosecutor, though, as she was very kind. Then the defense attorney had her shot, and she was SO frustrating. I have to admit, I wasn't as nice to her, and at one point, I even got somewhat rude. She was still trying to create a hypothesis that it was anyone but Red that could have caused the bruising. At that precise moment, she was trying to get me to say that the radiologist would have to grab my arm and twist it into place in order to get x-rays done. I said, "First of all, I'm pretty good at following directions, and put my arm where the man told me. Secondly, I don't think that either one of us are trained radiologists and know how they do their job." It was rude, I'll admit it. I'll also admit to feeling a bit smug, especially because she was stunned. I threw her off her game and off her rhythm. It felt good.
Then, the prosecutor called Hubby, and rested. Then the defense attorney called my dad. Which was important, because he was the only other witness. While some of the smaller, more insignificant details were murky, he got all of the rest of them right. I sat behind Red during their testimony. I watched him shake his head. I watched him scribble notes frantically to his attorney. I watched him slump in his chair. It broke my heart. I was completely torn.
The judge ruled against Red. The sentence he got was slightly heavier than the original deal the prosecutor offered him. One year supervised probation, 50 hours of community service, counseling, family counseling, anger management, curfew, an apology letter to me (no less than 250 words), and an essay on familial relations (500 words). He was so angry, and I was completely heart broken.
I knew walking into that courtroom yesterday that I was facing a lose/lose situation. It wasn't like I was facing some big bad meanie - I was facing my son. My baby. Fourteen years have passed, but I still see his bright orange hair and gray eyes looking up at me as I tie his shoes or read books to him. I camped with him in Cub Scouts. I rocked him to sleep at night. My baby. But it was more miserable than I had been prepared for. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to say it enough ... I love my boy. With every single breath I take, with every fiber of my being, I love this child. I have hopes and dreams for him, and I pray every single day that I'm able to help him realize those dreams. I pray that he doesn't hate me forever for having him punished this way. I pray that one day he understands that I wanted him to understand that life is hard, and to be an upstanding man, you have to be accountable for all of your actions.
Today has been hard, trying to figure it all out, trying to discern how I feel. I'm crushed. I'm scared for Red. I'm annoyed at my dad. But I know that God will use every one of these moments for His glory. Someday.
For those of you that are new here, and as a refresher for others, Red had two charges pending against him in criminal court: one count of domestic battery (the fight with me) and one count of fraudulent use of a debit card (my dad's). It didn't matter what was going to happen when we got there, it was going to suck. I *knew* it was going to suck. But, I guess I just wasn't prepared for the level of suck it was going to be. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever experienced a level of sucktastic as we went through yesterday.
If you haven't read the whole story, it starts HERE and continues for two additional posts.
For the past few months, when my father and I have discussed the circumstances, we have agreed that this entire situation is sad and difficult, but it would be important for Red to experience the consequences of his actions. When we got to court, the prosecutor had informed me that the entire time, my dad had been calling her office repeatedly, trying to get the fraud charges against Red dropped. I was so frustrated. Look, I don't *want* to see my kid in trouble - no mother does! But, I have held closely to the fact that if you're going to go against the grain, you gotta face the music that comes along with it. Red has a narcissistic trait that makes him feel like he's above reproach, and that is one of the biggest reasons I needed to follow through with this, and I thought my dad had agreed. Apparently not. I was upset that he had lied to me - telling me the entire time that he was going to follow through with the charges, all while hounding the state. I was also upset with his reasoning. He testified on the record that Red is his "sole heir" and because everything he has is Red's anyway, there's no reason at all why Red can't just go ahead and spend his money. SERIOUSLY?!? What about the four pages of insufficient funds charges, and the fact that Hubby and I had to buy his groceries for two weeks because of the hole Red dug him into? I guess that doesn't mean anything. I know, I sound bitter. Well ... I AM bitter. How in the world am I supposed to teach Red to be honest and have integrity when his own grandfather turns 180's like a figure skater and lies to judges?
*head desk*
After we got through that catastrophe, it was time to deal with the domestic battery case. Oy. I just ... I just ... I don't have words. The prosecutor offered Red a deal, and he decided to refuse it. Which meant we were going to go to trial. Seriously? I was heart-broken. I just couldn't even conceive how bad this was going to be. Until ... it got worse. I was patiently waiting for the judge's assistant to give us a date when the trial would be. And then, suddenly, I realized ... it wasn't going to be scheduled - it was going to happen RIGHT NOW.
What?
Wait ... what? Are you kidding me? Um ... ok. Here we go. I almost had a nervous breakdown right there. I was very thankful for the prosecutor though. She squeezed my hand, and went to work. Hubby and Dad had to leave because they were potential witnesses. I felt very alone. Hubby had been a real Prince the entire time, not leaving my side, arm around me for support ... and I watched him walk out the door. I took a deep breath, and then remembered I wasn't alone. Not really. Hubby wasn't there to hold my hand, but God was with me. I was still very concerned, but I knew that whatever was going to happen, things would be alright.
The prosecutor called the investigating police officer first. He spoke about the marks on my arm and on my back. The defense attorney, on cross, tried to rise reasonable doubt that Red caused the marks, that maybe they were caused by the paramedics or the hospital staff, but he stayed strong. Then, it was my turn. I couldn't look at Red. I knew if I did, I would cave. So, I stared straight at the prosecutor. I had to recount the entire evening. I hated it. Every last second of it. I'm so grateful to the prosecutor, though, as she was very kind. Then the defense attorney had her shot, and she was SO frustrating. I have to admit, I wasn't as nice to her, and at one point, I even got somewhat rude. She was still trying to create a hypothesis that it was anyone but Red that could have caused the bruising. At that precise moment, she was trying to get me to say that the radiologist would have to grab my arm and twist it into place in order to get x-rays done. I said, "First of all, I'm pretty good at following directions, and put my arm where the man told me. Secondly, I don't think that either one of us are trained radiologists and know how they do their job." It was rude, I'll admit it. I'll also admit to feeling a bit smug, especially because she was stunned. I threw her off her game and off her rhythm. It felt good.
Then, the prosecutor called Hubby, and rested. Then the defense attorney called my dad. Which was important, because he was the only other witness. While some of the smaller, more insignificant details were murky, he got all of the rest of them right. I sat behind Red during their testimony. I watched him shake his head. I watched him scribble notes frantically to his attorney. I watched him slump in his chair. It broke my heart. I was completely torn.
The judge ruled against Red. The sentence he got was slightly heavier than the original deal the prosecutor offered him. One year supervised probation, 50 hours of community service, counseling, family counseling, anger management, curfew, an apology letter to me (no less than 250 words), and an essay on familial relations (500 words). He was so angry, and I was completely heart broken.
I knew walking into that courtroom yesterday that I was facing a lose/lose situation. It wasn't like I was facing some big bad meanie - I was facing my son. My baby. Fourteen years have passed, but I still see his bright orange hair and gray eyes looking up at me as I tie his shoes or read books to him. I camped with him in Cub Scouts. I rocked him to sleep at night. My baby. But it was more miserable than I had been prepared for. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to say it enough ... I love my boy. With every single breath I take, with every fiber of my being, I love this child. I have hopes and dreams for him, and I pray every single day that I'm able to help him realize those dreams. I pray that he doesn't hate me forever for having him punished this way. I pray that one day he understands that I wanted him to understand that life is hard, and to be an upstanding man, you have to be accountable for all of your actions.
Today has been hard, trying to figure it all out, trying to discern how I feel. I'm crushed. I'm scared for Red. I'm annoyed at my dad. But I know that God will use every one of these moments for His glory. Someday.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Time Changes
That whole spring forward fall back thing? I've never been bothered by it. My friends will complain about how much that one hour messes with their entire schedule, kids are all freaked out, the world turns upside down. I'm not bashing them, in fact, I'm quoting them. It has just never bothered me, or the kids. Maybe we're flexible, maybe it is just because of the loosey-goosey bedtimes and mornings we have around here, I don't know. The big changes in time though? They REALLY mess with me.
Hubby has started to work a new schedule, and I'm really struggling with getting used to it. He used to work middle of the day shifts, usually 11am - 7pm, or similar. But now? 3am-11, 5am-noon. Ugh. Our whole routine has completely turned upside down. He's in bed by 7 - at the latest. I get the kids to bed and stay up working / writing / editing photos until about midnight or so. He gets up at 1:30 (for the 3am shift), and heads to work. I get up at 7 or so, and get started on my day. The kids and I hang out, do schoolwork, whatever is on our schedule. Hubby comes home, we have lunch, he does work on the house, runs errands, helps me, etc. Then we eat dinner, and he heads to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I enjoy our time in the afternoons, and I love that he gets extra time with the kids he didn't have before. But ... ugh. I'm not sure I can get used to this. Hubby used to work overnights, and I hated it. This is pretty darn close, and the acclimating is difficult.
But, I have to admit that these changes are better than nothing ever changing.
We've recently moved in with my husband's father and grandfather, into the house my husband grew up in. They really are very sweet, and we have had a lot of laughs. But, I don't think anything in this house has changed in the last forty years. I have the distinct feeling that even the conversations that take place have been the same things said for the last forty years. Staying up late at night in the living room lately has made me even more aware of that. The last 3 nights, they have repeated the exact same conversation ... its ... weird.
One would think that if I'm struggling with change in one area of my life, I might find some consistency comforting. But .... I don't. In fact, it scares me even more than facing bedtime on my own every night (and please know, that TERRIFIES me). I think there is a huge difference between routine and stagnancy, and I don't want these same conversations between me and Hubby every single night for the next forty years.
I want times to change ... but only some times.
Hubby has started to work a new schedule, and I'm really struggling with getting used to it. He used to work middle of the day shifts, usually 11am - 7pm, or similar. But now? 3am-11, 5am-noon. Ugh. Our whole routine has completely turned upside down. He's in bed by 7 - at the latest. I get the kids to bed and stay up working / writing / editing photos until about midnight or so. He gets up at 1:30 (for the 3am shift), and heads to work. I get up at 7 or so, and get started on my day. The kids and I hang out, do schoolwork, whatever is on our schedule. Hubby comes home, we have lunch, he does work on the house, runs errands, helps me, etc. Then we eat dinner, and he heads to bed. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I enjoy our time in the afternoons, and I love that he gets extra time with the kids he didn't have before. But ... ugh. I'm not sure I can get used to this. Hubby used to work overnights, and I hated it. This is pretty darn close, and the acclimating is difficult.
But, I have to admit that these changes are better than nothing ever changing.
We've recently moved in with my husband's father and grandfather, into the house my husband grew up in. They really are very sweet, and we have had a lot of laughs. But, I don't think anything in this house has changed in the last forty years. I have the distinct feeling that even the conversations that take place have been the same things said for the last forty years. Staying up late at night in the living room lately has made me even more aware of that. The last 3 nights, they have repeated the exact same conversation ... its ... weird.
One would think that if I'm struggling with change in one area of my life, I might find some consistency comforting. But .... I don't. In fact, it scares me even more than facing bedtime on my own every night (and please know, that TERRIFIES me). I think there is a huge difference between routine and stagnancy, and I don't want these same conversations between me and Hubby every single night for the next forty years.
I want times to change ... but only some times.
Monday, May 12, 2014
The Great Scheduling Experiment
Have I ever mentioned that I SUCK at time management? No? Ok ... well ... let me explain.
I. SUCK. At. Time. Management. ;)
For years I've battled deadlines and trying to get things done, and feeling overwhelmed, and disappointing others. This year seems to be worse than ever, but I'm going to blame that on the additional stress and moving and insanity.
I've tried two different methods in the past: to-do lists and time scheduling. The to-do lists just kept getting longer and longer because if I didn't get something done today, I would just move it tomorrow. I was feeling defeated and overwhelmed, and like I would never accomplish anything EVER. With specific time scheduling (think hour increments), I would pack my calendar solid, then if I ended up having a sick kid, or running an errand for my dad, or something else, my entire week would be sunk. I'd end up watching netflix the rest of the week. This would totally screw me over time and time again. I needed a REAL solution.
A couple of weeks ago, I attended the Exponential Conference for pastors and church planters. I am neither one of those, but I got to volunteer and it was AMAZING!! I will be writing a separate blog on that here shortly, because it was *that* level of life-altering. My very own pastor gave a workshop on managing time and he discussed this little trick to scheduling out time, and let me tell y'all: IT BLEW MY DANG MIND. I couldn't wait to try it. I toiled and played with it for a few days, and then took my creation to the pastor on Sunday. I'm all, You have to tell me if I did this right because I'm freaking out and I'm not even sure I could do this and now I'm freaking out because I'm not sure I can KEEP doing this and what about Hubby's schedule - he works at a THEME PARK with NO absolute schedule how do I MAKE THIS WORK?!?!? Yeah, I'm sure my kind pastor will tell you I didn't sound like that ... but that is TOTALLY how I sounded in my head ;)
Sooooo ... essentially, you chop your week up into blocks. There are 3 of them each day, each one is 4 hours a piece. You assign each module (mod for short) a task, and that's what you accomplish during that time. This type of schedule is flexible enough where you lump things together, whether those things are meetings with CEO's or housework. Hubby and I sat down and decided how many blocks I need for what, and then I based those blocks around his work schedule. Anything empty would automatically be family time, altho some of you might have to actually schedule that. A couple of rules to remember:
1. If you have to move something, make sure you make up for it somehow. I tend to have life happen when I'm in the middle of something, so I walk away from it. The problem is, I just drop it and never go back to it. When you leave some blocks intentionally blank (non-family blank boxes), you have an escape hatch! So, let's say I have homeschooling scheduled on Tuesday from noon to four, and Sir Smiley falls and cuts himself and I need to take him to get stitches. Normally, this would leave my whole week blown up and I wouldn't be able to recover. Using this system, I simply move homeschooling from Tuesday to a blank mod on Thursday - and I'm covered! Holy cow!
2. When you have a mod you can't move - especially mods with family - and someone asks you for time during that mod, don't feel bad about saying no. You don't have to hem and haw whether or not you should ask your honey to cancel date night this week (because ... NO), you just tell that person, "Sorry, no can do, I have something scheduled." Even if that something is binge-watching Grey's Anatomy. (Nope, don't know ANYONE in my house that does that. Huh-uh. You're delusional. LOL)
3. Be forgiving of yourself. We can be strict with ourselves, and hold ourselves accountable, but let us try and remember that we're humans. We're going to have sick days, and unexpected things, and days when looking at the schedule makes us angry. It will happen. Jump off the horse if you have to, but leave it saddled, so you can jump back on asap!
4. Take it for a test drive. Try it for a week, see how it works for you, make adjustments and do it again. This thing is flexible! That's what I did, and I saw a lot of things that had to be fixed right away.
Last week was my first attempt. Check out what I did ...
I couldn't find a ready-made calendar that I liked, so I opted for making my own. (If you feel I'm the most creative genius in the world and you want nothing more than to have one of your very own, let me know and I'll email it to you lol) I essentially needed to add Hubby's schedule (oh, check it out, now y'all know his name is Dave), and what we're having for dinner, and then my blocks. The lines are sharpie, because the visual change helps me, and I'm too cheap to buy THAT much ink.
This is a close-up of one of the days:
See my empty block? I moved stuff there later on in the week :)
A couple of rookie mistakes I made: 1) Starting my day at 8am. We are slow risers around here. Truthfully, I'm usually awake before 7, but we like to chill and take our time. If you had a "real" job (lol) and had to be at work early in the morning, the 8am thing works. 2) Doing stuff first thing on Monday morning. As if THAT ever happens!! Our Sundays tire us out way too much, we never start bright and early.
I made those changes for this week, but this week is going to be kind of crazy because we're meeting friends at SeaWorld one day, and Thursday is SirSmiley's birthday, so we're heading to Magic Kingdom that day. We'll see how this one goes ;)
Not your typical Mother's Day Post
Today has been a little ... awkward ... for me. This has not been the typical Mother's Day for me, and I just don't feel right in my own skin. I know there are many other women out there who feel awkward for their own reasons today, and I thought I'd write about it. First, briefly, because I haven't written in some time, Red is still in a foster center and doing really well. He's in a public middle school, we have facilitated visits, and things are progressing. Unfortunately, we didn't have our visit this past week as we were supposed to, which is part of the cause of my melancholy. The other part is that Princess was sick today, and the Littles both had sniffles. Sigh. A mother's work is never done ... even on Mother's Day.
So ... all of that being said ... I wanted to send out some love to women all over who are - awkward - about today.
~ To those who don't have their children with them ... you might have memories of handprints and flowers. You probably know what it is like to hold your little one close to you, your hearts beating close together. And now, for whatever reason, your little one isn't with you. No human can understand the extent of your pain, your longing. Even when you meet with other women who might have had similar experiences, your journey is but a singular, unique experience. There is nothing anyone can do to fill that hole. I can only pray that your child will be returned to you some day. That is my prayer for you.
~ To those who have lost a child ... your arms will never again hold tight that precious gift. Maybe you never had the chance. My heart breaks for you. Your heart yearns for the laughter and smiles and memories you will never have. I, too, know that pain ... more than most people will ever comprehend. I wish that we had an answer for why it happens that way, but I'm not sure it would make it any easier. Some day ... some day there will be a moment when you can breathe again.
~ To the moms who do it by themselves ... y'all are tough. y'all are forces to be reckoned with. You work hard, sleep little, pray much, and worry consistently. But you are so amazing!! My parents divorced when I was very young. I was fortunate to have them both in my life, even though there were many times that their war nearly drove me insane. What I remember most about those years? My mom worked HARD to make sure that everything was taken care of. Someday, your kids will remember that, too.
~ To the dads who do it all ... you deserve a nod, too. I think its easier for a mom to throw a baseball than for a dad to learn how to tie a ponytail. Society still doesn't quite know what to say to you, although your female counterparts are standard. But there are a few of us out there who know just how much you rock. Keep going, Dad.
~ To the moms who chose to love someone else's child as their own ... y'all are a special kind of wonderful. You are often resented and reviled. The respect and love you so deserve doesn't often come quickly, if at all. You cook meals, clean up boo-boos, help with homework ... and yet, you don't always get the same amount of credit. I'm lucky hat Princess has a great step-mom ... I know that there are a lot of you out there. But, remember when you were a young doofus kid? One day, that child you're loving will wake up and realize your love for them, and it will be all good.
~ To those out there who don't have a relationship with their moms ... this is NOT going to be a woeful plea to go running back to her. Only you know the story. To you, this can be a bitter and frustrating day. Believe me, I understand that, too. Hold on ... things will change. I promise.
~ To those out there that have lose their moms ... I know the day will never be the same for you. Even if you have 10 kids and flowers and jewelry and cupcakes ... Mother's Day is lonely. That's so hard, I can't even imagine. I could remind you that they're in your heart, but you know that already. I could remind you that you have people that love you, but I suspect you know that, too. That is a hole that can't be filled. I pray that you find little ways to make it through.
~ [this is kind of a current event thing ... but ... whatever, my blog, I'll write what I want] .... To the moms in Nigeria. You have the hearts of the world with you right now. I pray to God every single night that the rulers of this world send their forces in to get those ... those ... evil bastards that took your babies. They can claim religion or profit, or whatever they want, but their actions are unconscionable. I am praying every moment that you get your girls back.
~ To those out there that don't even realize ... Do you know who you are? Do you know? Do you know that you are counted on as a sister, friend, mother ... even if you aren't any of those? So many women I look to as "Mom". So many women that have come along side me at some point, put their arms around my shoulder and loved me. Encouraged me. Supported me. Made me theirs. How many of you have a woman like this in your life? How many women do you know walk your life with you? For they are moms, too. Spiritual moms. Forever friends.
All of us have traveled paths that have been bumpy, rocky, avalanche-y, and plain old Hell. Many of us hate Mother's Day. After all, it is a "Hallmark Holiday". So, you know what? To hell with it. From now on, we're going to celebrate WOMEN ROCK DAY. Because, whether we're moms or step-moms, or foster moms, or fur-moms, or hurting moms, or tired moms, or kids who don't know their moms ... we all have the capacity to love one another, lift each other up, and make this world a better place. I love you, Ladies.
So ... all of that being said ... I wanted to send out some love to women all over who are - awkward - about today.
~ To those who don't have their children with them ... you might have memories of handprints and flowers. You probably know what it is like to hold your little one close to you, your hearts beating close together. And now, for whatever reason, your little one isn't with you. No human can understand the extent of your pain, your longing. Even when you meet with other women who might have had similar experiences, your journey is but a singular, unique experience. There is nothing anyone can do to fill that hole. I can only pray that your child will be returned to you some day. That is my prayer for you.
~ To those who have lost a child ... your arms will never again hold tight that precious gift. Maybe you never had the chance. My heart breaks for you. Your heart yearns for the laughter and smiles and memories you will never have. I, too, know that pain ... more than most people will ever comprehend. I wish that we had an answer for why it happens that way, but I'm not sure it would make it any easier. Some day ... some day there will be a moment when you can breathe again.
~ To the moms who do it by themselves ... y'all are tough. y'all are forces to be reckoned with. You work hard, sleep little, pray much, and worry consistently. But you are so amazing!! My parents divorced when I was very young. I was fortunate to have them both in my life, even though there were many times that their war nearly drove me insane. What I remember most about those years? My mom worked HARD to make sure that everything was taken care of. Someday, your kids will remember that, too.
~ To the dads who do it all ... you deserve a nod, too. I think its easier for a mom to throw a baseball than for a dad to learn how to tie a ponytail. Society still doesn't quite know what to say to you, although your female counterparts are standard. But there are a few of us out there who know just how much you rock. Keep going, Dad.
~ To the moms who chose to love someone else's child as their own ... y'all are a special kind of wonderful. You are often resented and reviled. The respect and love you so deserve doesn't often come quickly, if at all. You cook meals, clean up boo-boos, help with homework ... and yet, you don't always get the same amount of credit. I'm lucky hat Princess has a great step-mom ... I know that there are a lot of you out there. But, remember when you were a young doofus kid? One day, that child you're loving will wake up and realize your love for them, and it will be all good.
~ To those out there who don't have a relationship with their moms ... this is NOT going to be a woeful plea to go running back to her. Only you know the story. To you, this can be a bitter and frustrating day. Believe me, I understand that, too. Hold on ... things will change. I promise.
~ To those out there that have lose their moms ... I know the day will never be the same for you. Even if you have 10 kids and flowers and jewelry and cupcakes ... Mother's Day is lonely. That's so hard, I can't even imagine. I could remind you that they're in your heart, but you know that already. I could remind you that you have people that love you, but I suspect you know that, too. That is a hole that can't be filled. I pray that you find little ways to make it through.
~ [this is kind of a current event thing ... but ... whatever, my blog, I'll write what I want] .... To the moms in Nigeria. You have the hearts of the world with you right now. I pray to God every single night that the rulers of this world send their forces in to get those ... those ... evil bastards that took your babies. They can claim religion or profit, or whatever they want, but their actions are unconscionable. I am praying every moment that you get your girls back.
~ To those out there that don't even realize ... Do you know who you are? Do you know? Do you know that you are counted on as a sister, friend, mother ... even if you aren't any of those? So many women I look to as "Mom". So many women that have come along side me at some point, put their arms around my shoulder and loved me. Encouraged me. Supported me. Made me theirs. How many of you have a woman like this in your life? How many women do you know walk your life with you? For they are moms, too. Spiritual moms. Forever friends.
All of us have traveled paths that have been bumpy, rocky, avalanche-y, and plain old Hell. Many of us hate Mother's Day. After all, it is a "Hallmark Holiday". So, you know what? To hell with it. From now on, we're going to celebrate WOMEN ROCK DAY. Because, whether we're moms or step-moms, or foster moms, or fur-moms, or hurting moms, or tired moms, or kids who don't know their moms ... we all have the capacity to love one another, lift each other up, and make this world a better place. I love you, Ladies.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
The Judicial System May Kill Me
If at any point, I completely disappear from all areas of life and you haven't heard from me, and you start to get worried ... try looking for me under a pile of legal ease, rhetoric, and insanity. This past week has been a series of ups and downs that have slowly made me lose my love for the legal system. It has been many years since I've worked in a law firm, and until recently I've really missed it. I love the smell of a law library. I love to be under a pile of cases. I love being able to look someone in the eye and know that I was a small part of helping them find justice. But lately? I'm finding that I'm angry that the legal system is built on nothing but weasels trying to get blood from rocks.
I guess maybe I should have warned you that I'm quite bitter this morning. Although, you've figured that out by now.
We had three legal events since I wrote last week. The first was Red's pre-trial hearing on Wednesday. I had it in my head that there was going to be more to it, but I was quite wrong. The judge asked Red for his name and age, asked if his attorney had kept in touch with him, asked him who else was there (me), and that was it. So very glad that I rushed all the way back from Fluffy's appointment in Jacksonville for that (insert exaggerated eye roll here).
The second was a case plan conference with DCF. I was agitated during the entire meeting. They just kept attacking me over and over. They say they have paperwork from an old psychiatrist saying that I suffer from extreme depressive disorder and bipolar disorder. Neither are true. It was horrible. I held my own for the most part, I was somewhat snarky (there's a shock), and tears were silently falling down my face by the end. When everyone left, it was just me and my attorney, and I let loose. For the last month, I've gone through a lot of emotions, but I haven't done a lot of actual major crying. I fell apart. I cried, I screamed, I almost hyperventilated. It felt good, I won't lie. I'm just so very frustrated at this entire system. I'm being punished for not being able to get my son help, when all I did was try and get him help. This is ridiculous. The case plan isn't actually too detailed, which surprised me. I have to undergo both a psychological and a psychiatric exam - I suppose to prove I'm not depressed or bipolar. I just hoped extraordinarily stressed and annoyed doesn't count. No arrests (I commented that there went my bank robbing plans for the weekend. My attorney snickered.) ... proof of income ... proof of housing (maybe if they'd actually come to the house like they're supposed to, that wouldn't be an issue) ... and a domestic violence assessment. According to my attorney, that's going to show that I'm a victim and then they'll teach me how not to be a victim. Of my SON, people. My :::special needs::: son. How about, I don't know, getting my special needs son help? I'm just sayin.
The third was the hearing this past Tuesday when we had to take the case plan to the judge. The judge reviewed it, made sure I knew what was in it, made sure I agreed to it without being pressured, etc. Then, he griped at DCF *again* because they still haven't set up a visitation for me and Red. All went well. Then, on the way out the door, the DCF case manager was snarky to me. Even my husband was insulted by it, and he just lets most things go.
The events that have taken place since then have added even more frustration and stupidity. This is a bottomless well of frustration and stupidity - there really is no end to how annoying this is going to get. Tuesday night, Red called my dad to tell him that were a few things that he needed, and that I had to call the youth shelter to take care of them. I needed to give them permission to have his hair cut, and he still needed new shoes. DCF promised me last Wednesday she would call with his shoe size, but that hadn't happened yet. So ... I called the youth shelter. A gentleman answered the phone, and I explained that I was Red's mom and that I had received a messaged that I needed to speak to the director about giving my permission for some things. The gentleman said, "He's right here, would you like to speak to him now?" Well, yes. And then the gentleman put Red on the phone. So, we spoke for a few minutes about the haircut, some medications, and schoolwork. And then Red asked where the director was and I spoke with Mr. R. Mr. R and I had a wonderful conversation about the different needs that Red has, and then we discussed whether or not there is a no contact order in our case. If there is a no contact order, I'm not supposed to talk to Red. But there isn't. But everyone thinks that there is. The DCF case worker said she'd make sure they understood that, but apparently she had not had the chance to.
Later on in the evening, my dad and I were reviewing the events of the day when he mentioned that Red had also asked when he would be receiving the toiletries I sent to him last week. I took a bag of toiletries to the case plan conference with me on Friday. Security at the courthouse wouldn't let me take it upstairs with me, so I had to leave it with them, and asked the case manager to pick it up on her way out, and take it to Red at the shelter. But, apparently, Red had not yet received the package. I called back to the shelter and spoke to Ms. L. She and I discussed the package, she said that she didn't think the case manager had yet brought it to the shelter. We had a great conversation, she's very funny. We discussed Red and computer issues, and his schooling, and that I had spoken to Mr. R earlier in the day, and that we should probably both touch base with the case manager.
Pretty much sounds like all should be well, right?
Yeah. WRONG.
At 10:30 last night, my phone rang. I hesitated answering it, because I was tired and in a foul mood, and didn't really want to deal with anyone. Then I noticed the caller ID said it was the case manager. With that feeling that only parents know, I was terrified that something had happened with Red and that's why she was calling so late at night. I answered. All I could hear was her screaming at me. Apparently, she was under the impression that I had called the shelter pretending to be a case manager in order to speak to my son. I tried interrupting her, she just kept yelling. I tried telling her that I would never do such a thing, she just kept yelling. I finally broke in enough to tell her that she had it wrong, I told them exactly who I was, and it was ::incredibly:: inappropriate for her to call me late at night to scream and yell at me. She started to scream again, and I told her she needed to stop yelling or I was going to hang up. She started in again, so I hung up.
Needless to say, I did not sleep well last night. I was too busy seething.
I have no idea what is going to be the outcome. I've talked to a couple of people today (but my attorney and I keep missing each other), and the general consensus is to not call the shelter again.
Well. DUH.
But what is that going to do about what transpired? It is NOT okay for her to scream at me. It is NOT okay for her to call me at 10:30 at night. There has got to be an end to this madness at some point, there's just got to be.
You know, here's the irony ... they want me tested to prove I'm not crazy. But, with all of this madness going on, I'm sleep deprived, cranky, snippy, quick to jump, moody ... Honestly? It will be a wonder if I'm *not* insane by the time this is all over.
I guess maybe I should have warned you that I'm quite bitter this morning. Although, you've figured that out by now.
We had three legal events since I wrote last week. The first was Red's pre-trial hearing on Wednesday. I had it in my head that there was going to be more to it, but I was quite wrong. The judge asked Red for his name and age, asked if his attorney had kept in touch with him, asked him who else was there (me), and that was it. So very glad that I rushed all the way back from Fluffy's appointment in Jacksonville for that (insert exaggerated eye roll here).
The second was a case plan conference with DCF. I was agitated during the entire meeting. They just kept attacking me over and over. They say they have paperwork from an old psychiatrist saying that I suffer from extreme depressive disorder and bipolar disorder. Neither are true. It was horrible. I held my own for the most part, I was somewhat snarky (there's a shock), and tears were silently falling down my face by the end. When everyone left, it was just me and my attorney, and I let loose. For the last month, I've gone through a lot of emotions, but I haven't done a lot of actual major crying. I fell apart. I cried, I screamed, I almost hyperventilated. It felt good, I won't lie. I'm just so very frustrated at this entire system. I'm being punished for not being able to get my son help, when all I did was try and get him help. This is ridiculous. The case plan isn't actually too detailed, which surprised me. I have to undergo both a psychological and a psychiatric exam - I suppose to prove I'm not depressed or bipolar. I just hoped extraordinarily stressed and annoyed doesn't count. No arrests (I commented that there went my bank robbing plans for the weekend. My attorney snickered.) ... proof of income ... proof of housing (maybe if they'd actually come to the house like they're supposed to, that wouldn't be an issue) ... and a domestic violence assessment. According to my attorney, that's going to show that I'm a victim and then they'll teach me how not to be a victim. Of my SON, people. My :::special needs::: son. How about, I don't know, getting my special needs son help? I'm just sayin.
The third was the hearing this past Tuesday when we had to take the case plan to the judge. The judge reviewed it, made sure I knew what was in it, made sure I agreed to it without being pressured, etc. Then, he griped at DCF *again* because they still haven't set up a visitation for me and Red. All went well. Then, on the way out the door, the DCF case manager was snarky to me. Even my husband was insulted by it, and he just lets most things go.
The events that have taken place since then have added even more frustration and stupidity. This is a bottomless well of frustration and stupidity - there really is no end to how annoying this is going to get. Tuesday night, Red called my dad to tell him that were a few things that he needed, and that I had to call the youth shelter to take care of them. I needed to give them permission to have his hair cut, and he still needed new shoes. DCF promised me last Wednesday she would call with his shoe size, but that hadn't happened yet. So ... I called the youth shelter. A gentleman answered the phone, and I explained that I was Red's mom and that I had received a messaged that I needed to speak to the director about giving my permission for some things. The gentleman said, "He's right here, would you like to speak to him now?" Well, yes. And then the gentleman put Red on the phone. So, we spoke for a few minutes about the haircut, some medications, and schoolwork. And then Red asked where the director was and I spoke with Mr. R. Mr. R and I had a wonderful conversation about the different needs that Red has, and then we discussed whether or not there is a no contact order in our case. If there is a no contact order, I'm not supposed to talk to Red. But there isn't. But everyone thinks that there is. The DCF case worker said she'd make sure they understood that, but apparently she had not had the chance to.
Later on in the evening, my dad and I were reviewing the events of the day when he mentioned that Red had also asked when he would be receiving the toiletries I sent to him last week. I took a bag of toiletries to the case plan conference with me on Friday. Security at the courthouse wouldn't let me take it upstairs with me, so I had to leave it with them, and asked the case manager to pick it up on her way out, and take it to Red at the shelter. But, apparently, Red had not yet received the package. I called back to the shelter and spoke to Ms. L. She and I discussed the package, she said that she didn't think the case manager had yet brought it to the shelter. We had a great conversation, she's very funny. We discussed Red and computer issues, and his schooling, and that I had spoken to Mr. R earlier in the day, and that we should probably both touch base with the case manager.
Pretty much sounds like all should be well, right?
Yeah. WRONG.
At 10:30 last night, my phone rang. I hesitated answering it, because I was tired and in a foul mood, and didn't really want to deal with anyone. Then I noticed the caller ID said it was the case manager. With that feeling that only parents know, I was terrified that something had happened with Red and that's why she was calling so late at night. I answered. All I could hear was her screaming at me. Apparently, she was under the impression that I had called the shelter pretending to be a case manager in order to speak to my son. I tried interrupting her, she just kept yelling. I tried telling her that I would never do such a thing, she just kept yelling. I finally broke in enough to tell her that she had it wrong, I told them exactly who I was, and it was ::incredibly:: inappropriate for her to call me late at night to scream and yell at me. She started to scream again, and I told her she needed to stop yelling or I was going to hang up. She started in again, so I hung up.
Needless to say, I did not sleep well last night. I was too busy seething.
I have no idea what is going to be the outcome. I've talked to a couple of people today (but my attorney and I keep missing each other), and the general consensus is to not call the shelter again.
Well. DUH.
But what is that going to do about what transpired? It is NOT okay for her to scream at me. It is NOT okay for her to call me at 10:30 at night. There has got to be an end to this madness at some point, there's just got to be.
You know, here's the irony ... they want me tested to prove I'm not crazy. But, with all of this madness going on, I'm sleep deprived, cranky, snippy, quick to jump, moody ... Honestly? It will be a wonder if I'm *not* insane by the time this is all over.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Are we done yet? Nope ...
... sorry to say, there is still oh so much more to tell you. However, it might give you some hope that we have reached the grand climax of our story! I take you to an evening in late January ...
... no ... wait. This story actually begins right before Christmas ...
... well ... actually ...
... oh crud.
Sigh.
Ok. So, last January (2013), I drowned our macbook. I was using a little table for a desk, placed my cup of water on the table, and sat down to work. I slid the table closer to me, not realizing that Hubby's shoes were underneath. The table bounced, the water spilled, the macbook drowned. We replaced it with our tax refund, but much mocking has ensued.
In December, I was in the midst of editing some photos. (Did y'all know that Hubby and I have a small photography company? No? Oh. Well here, check us out: www.carrmip.com) My dad and I were having a very heated discussion about whether or not Red should be allowed to have computer privileges (that he has so horribly abused), when a cup of tea got knocked over into the macbook2. Hubby was not amused.
So, until we can replace macbook2, we've been sharing Red's laptop with him. And then, he decided it would be a swell idea to uninstall Windows and replace it with Linux. And, of course, nothing was working correctly. Now we're caught up.
That afternoon in January, I had asked Red to please make the repairs we had discussed so that I could get some work done. I'm OH SO VERY BEHIND on OH SO MANY projects. (All those caps? Yeah, that is how I hear it in my head, too. Sigh.) He blew me off - per his norm. So, later that evening, I tried to talk to him about it. He argued with me. I - VERY CALMLY - tried to get him to understand that his disobedience was uncalled for, and I don't appreciate his rude responses, or the fact that I'd been waiting for two days to get stuff done.
Red responded by calling me an extremely crude and profane name. I reacted badly. I reached out and smacked the back of his head. Yeah, I know, it was stupid. Please know, I didn't knock him senseless or cause damage (not that I'm excused) ... Dad likened it to the way they smack that one guy on NCIS. He got up in my face and yelling, and I got him to sit back down and calm down. I told him that I shouldn't have smacked him, but I honestly I can't handle any more of the name calling. The things he says are truly not ok. We began talking again, trying to find some peace or resolution. I asked Red about schoolwork, and he got super mad again. Told me to f-off and he was never going to do his schoolwork. I sighed, reached over and closed the laptop, picked it up, and turned to walk away.
And that is when he exploded.
Red reached out and grabbed my arms to pull me back, he was screaming but I don't know what he was saying. I wrenched free from his grasp, and started running towards the front door. He was right on my heels the entire time, hitting me in the back and my head. Dad started following Red, trying to get him to stop. When I reached the door, Red grabbed me by my hair and slammed my head into the closed door. Dad was able to get him off of me, I was able to get out the door to Hubby who could help me.
We called the police, and an ambulance. Red called an ambulance for my father - Red accidentally struck him while hitting me and Dad (who has chronic heart conditions) started having chest pain. We were both transported, and Red was arrested for battery. I had a lot of soft tissue damage, some serious bruising on my back and shoulder, a cut on my arm from his fingernails, and a fairly nasty concussion. And, to be honest, I'm leaving huge chunks out of the story - like Red screaming profanity at Hubby, and the paramedics getting in Red's face because he was threatening me - but none of us have time to go through every detail. It should suffice to say that it was traumatic for us all.
Since then, we've been on a stupid roller coaster of court hearings and frustrating obstacles. There are two cases - criminal and DCF. With the last criminal case, he went through the diversion program. It is supposed to be a one-shot break, but it gets used a lot. I've spoken to the prosecutor and she doesn't think that diversion is going to be a good option this time. While Red does have asperger's and there are some serious issues going on there, he *does* know right from wrong, and he makes the choice to get violent with me, and with that choice, he has to face consequences. Red is EXTREMELY narcissistic and doesn't feel that anyone has the power to do anything to him at all. If he continues with that frame of mind, he will feel that he never has to abide by rules or laws ever, and that will not end well. Wednesday afternoon, we have a pre-trial conference, I shall update you as soon as I can.
The DCF case has been a perpetual thorn in my side. You may or may not recall from my previous writing that I've tried for DCF to help me with Red for the last two years, to no avail. In the investigation following his arrest, Red told the DCF person that I punched him several times in the stomach and that is why he attacked me. They filed to "shelter him", which means to legally take guardianship over him, until they can fix me, or take my rights away. (joy. abounding joy. you can totes here my sarcasm, yeah??) After having many unsavory conversations with case workers, investigators, supervisors, and attorneys, I think we might - MIGHT - just be starting to make some headway. I was quite doubtful of this until a conversation I had today with Red's caseworker.
Up until now, I've been a gargantuan pain in DCF's butt. (I know, so many of you are completely shocked by that. harhar) I've pushed, I've begged, I've nagged, I've argued, I've pleaded, I've even yelled (more shock), but none of it ever mattered, because they never came through with providing me very much needed assistance in Red's care. None of them seem to understand the scope and depth of what Asperger's really is, let alone what it is like to deal with it and puberty, or being the parent of a kid dealing with that and puberty. But today? Today, Red's caseworker actually LISTENED TO ME. Record-breaking day, y'all. And she thought about what I was saying, and she realized that as angry as I am about being a punching bag, at the end of the day, Red is MY BABY. He is. He always will be. And my baby is in pain, and needs help. He isn't going to get help from me because he doesn't want it - but that does not mean that I'm not going to spend every ounce of energy I have fighting for him anyway.
For the first time in about 4 years, I have hope and optimism. It is surreal.
We have a case conference on Friday morning, and I'm hoping that she takes that time to explain that I'm fighting FOR my son, and that is all I've been doing this entire time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ok, enough for now. At least, you're actually kind of up-to-date. The next few days are going to be busy here. We're taking Fluffy for another surgery consult on her eyes Wednesday morning (before Red's hearing. oy) ... so, keep the prayers coming.
Much love and fluff...
... no ... wait. This story actually begins right before Christmas ...
... well ... actually ...
... oh crud.
Sigh.
Ok. So, last January (2013), I drowned our macbook. I was using a little table for a desk, placed my cup of water on the table, and sat down to work. I slid the table closer to me, not realizing that Hubby's shoes were underneath. The table bounced, the water spilled, the macbook drowned. We replaced it with our tax refund, but much mocking has ensued.
In December, I was in the midst of editing some photos. (Did y'all know that Hubby and I have a small photography company? No? Oh. Well here, check us out: www.carrmip.com) My dad and I were having a very heated discussion about whether or not Red should be allowed to have computer privileges (that he has so horribly abused), when a cup of tea got knocked over into the macbook2. Hubby was not amused.
So, until we can replace macbook2, we've been sharing Red's laptop with him. And then, he decided it would be a swell idea to uninstall Windows and replace it with Linux. And, of course, nothing was working correctly. Now we're caught up.
That afternoon in January, I had asked Red to please make the repairs we had discussed so that I could get some work done. I'm OH SO VERY BEHIND on OH SO MANY projects. (All those caps? Yeah, that is how I hear it in my head, too. Sigh.) He blew me off - per his norm. So, later that evening, I tried to talk to him about it. He argued with me. I - VERY CALMLY - tried to get him to understand that his disobedience was uncalled for, and I don't appreciate his rude responses, or the fact that I'd been waiting for two days to get stuff done.
Red responded by calling me an extremely crude and profane name. I reacted badly. I reached out and smacked the back of his head. Yeah, I know, it was stupid. Please know, I didn't knock him senseless or cause damage (not that I'm excused) ... Dad likened it to the way they smack that one guy on NCIS. He got up in my face and yelling, and I got him to sit back down and calm down. I told him that I shouldn't have smacked him, but I honestly I can't handle any more of the name calling. The things he says are truly not ok. We began talking again, trying to find some peace or resolution. I asked Red about schoolwork, and he got super mad again. Told me to f-off and he was never going to do his schoolwork. I sighed, reached over and closed the laptop, picked it up, and turned to walk away.
And that is when he exploded.
Red reached out and grabbed my arms to pull me back, he was screaming but I don't know what he was saying. I wrenched free from his grasp, and started running towards the front door. He was right on my heels the entire time, hitting me in the back and my head. Dad started following Red, trying to get him to stop. When I reached the door, Red grabbed me by my hair and slammed my head into the closed door. Dad was able to get him off of me, I was able to get out the door to Hubby who could help me.
We called the police, and an ambulance. Red called an ambulance for my father - Red accidentally struck him while hitting me and Dad (who has chronic heart conditions) started having chest pain. We were both transported, and Red was arrested for battery. I had a lot of soft tissue damage, some serious bruising on my back and shoulder, a cut on my arm from his fingernails, and a fairly nasty concussion. And, to be honest, I'm leaving huge chunks out of the story - like Red screaming profanity at Hubby, and the paramedics getting in Red's face because he was threatening me - but none of us have time to go through every detail. It should suffice to say that it was traumatic for us all.
Since then, we've been on a stupid roller coaster of court hearings and frustrating obstacles. There are two cases - criminal and DCF. With the last criminal case, he went through the diversion program. It is supposed to be a one-shot break, but it gets used a lot. I've spoken to the prosecutor and she doesn't think that diversion is going to be a good option this time. While Red does have asperger's and there are some serious issues going on there, he *does* know right from wrong, and he makes the choice to get violent with me, and with that choice, he has to face consequences. Red is EXTREMELY narcissistic and doesn't feel that anyone has the power to do anything to him at all. If he continues with that frame of mind, he will feel that he never has to abide by rules or laws ever, and that will not end well. Wednesday afternoon, we have a pre-trial conference, I shall update you as soon as I can.
The DCF case has been a perpetual thorn in my side. You may or may not recall from my previous writing that I've tried for DCF to help me with Red for the last two years, to no avail. In the investigation following his arrest, Red told the DCF person that I punched him several times in the stomach and that is why he attacked me. They filed to "shelter him", which means to legally take guardianship over him, until they can fix me, or take my rights away. (joy. abounding joy. you can totes here my sarcasm, yeah??) After having many unsavory conversations with case workers, investigators, supervisors, and attorneys, I think we might - MIGHT - just be starting to make some headway. I was quite doubtful of this until a conversation I had today with Red's caseworker.
Up until now, I've been a gargantuan pain in DCF's butt. (I know, so many of you are completely shocked by that. harhar) I've pushed, I've begged, I've nagged, I've argued, I've pleaded, I've even yelled (more shock), but none of it ever mattered, because they never came through with providing me very much needed assistance in Red's care. None of them seem to understand the scope and depth of what Asperger's really is, let alone what it is like to deal with it and puberty, or being the parent of a kid dealing with that and puberty. But today? Today, Red's caseworker actually LISTENED TO ME. Record-breaking day, y'all. And she thought about what I was saying, and she realized that as angry as I am about being a punching bag, at the end of the day, Red is MY BABY. He is. He always will be. And my baby is in pain, and needs help. He isn't going to get help from me because he doesn't want it - but that does not mean that I'm not going to spend every ounce of energy I have fighting for him anyway.
For the first time in about 4 years, I have hope and optimism. It is surreal.
We have a case conference on Friday morning, and I'm hoping that she takes that time to explain that I'm fighting FOR my son, and that is all I've been doing this entire time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ok, enough for now. At least, you're actually kind of up-to-date. The next few days are going to be busy here. We're taking Fluffy for another surgery consult on her eyes Wednesday morning (before Red's hearing. oy) ... so, keep the prayers coming.
Much love and fluff...
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