The verdict is in…

We lost. And lost BIG.

Three years, tens of thousands of dollars, significant physical issues brought on by extreme stress, emotional issues in all of us from the stress, etc., etc., etc.

All for absolutely nothing.

In fact, we actually even have to pay Princess’ legal fees to the tune of $4000 PLUS the child support got DOUBLED, in addition to tearing Hubby to ribbons in the ruling.

The judge went on and on about how great she was and how patient she was with Hubby’s being so demanding and accusatory (Wow, he got mad that chose a babysitter who had all the earmarks of being sexually molested by a KNOWN pedophile in the family and Kiddo DID end up getting molested AND THEN molesting Runt…Hubby is such a horrible and abusive BASTARD! WTF???)

Anyways. When I cool down I’ll post some of the more tragically comic parts of the ruling.

She did make sure to email THE ENTIRE RULING – private financial information and all – to Kiddo’s principal, teacher, school counselor, and daycare center.

Tip of the day: Never fucking tempt “worse”.

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Move on over

Tonight I moved several posts from the past few months over to this blog.  I don’t know why I didn’t put them here to begin with, but they are here now. :)

If anyone is reading these, thank you.  Please be patient with me in my rantings and ramblings from severe frustration with the multitude of situations going on.

NOTE:  I will be putting up a post about this in more detail later, but so the other posts make sense I wanted to just tell [you] this now.  In March, we found out that Kiddo was molested by a babysitter while Princess was at Bible study.  It was done under the guise of a “game”.  They apparently played this “game” multiple times, so much that there were several versions of the game.  No penetration was involved (thank God) but there was touching with mouths and hands.  We then found out during his interview with the DHS people that Kiddo had also then played this game with Runt on a few occasions.  Needless to say, the past few months have introduced us to an entirely fresh new level of hell.

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Stuff it!

The lady from the counselor’s office called today.  Dad’s efforts were rebuffed.  DHS decided to reject his report and not launch an investigation.  They will keep a note of it in the file and will watch for further reports, pattern, etc., but as of right now nothing more is being done with it.

So that is okay now, and the information train to my parents has officially gone off the rails.  No more.  They get the “sanitized for your protection” version of everything now.  We’re great.  We’re all great.  The kids are great.
They have NO idea what they lost.
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Knife in the back

  • Me: you there?
  • P: yep
  • Me: My dad just called Me.
  • P: oh no
  • Me: He proceeded to tell me that he can’t tell me how concerned he is about Runt.  He & mom ABSOLUTELY do not think Kiddo should be “allowed in the same house with him PERIOD”.  We are not “functioning normally” due to all the stress in our house.  We are not supervising the kids enough.  I’m showing signs of depression.  Runt was crying when he called them the other day and “he never did that before…he never cried when we left before….” (which of course is garbage).  He believes something is still going on with Kiddo and Runt.  We are sending Runt a confusing message that it is okay to hurt him but we’ll still let Kiddo be around him.
  • And…the piece de resistance….
  • P: WTF!  How did he get a hold of her number??
  • Me:   Mom took their pen when she was there with me.  He was forwarded to some broad named Christine who, after hearing all this bullshit from my father, informed him that…
  • P: great
  • Me: I think if I don’t throw Kiddo out they may actually try to take Runt away from Me, P.
  • P: your parents are going to try and take Runt away from you?
  • Me: They don’t believe Kiddo is getting help.
  • P: that is horrible
  • Me: I told him that I can’t just throw him out, he’s my son, too.  My dad IMMEDIATELY snapped back, “No, he is NOT your son.”  I think they might.  I have to call [counselor’s] office and find out who the hell this woman is that he talked to and WTF is going on.  I am literally shaking.  What the hell do I do?????  I told him if he’d have ASKED Me FIRST I’d have let him talk to [counselor].  “Well I didn’t want to add to your stress or stir the pot.”
  • P: WTF? what did he think was going to happen–I bet your mom’s therapist told her to do it and your dad just did it
  • Me: I told him I was pissed when Mom went around me and talked to Kiddo without talking to me first…   He says “Yeah, she told me about that….”  YOU DON’T THINK THIS WOULD PISS ME OFF??????  How the F$&% do I tell Hubby about this????????  He feels guilty enough as it is!
  • P: one is at fault in your house of what happened to Kiddo and what happened to Runt.
  •   you took immediate action when you found out about it
  • Me: But I didn’t throw Kiddo out so NO…I’m still “leaving Runt directly in harm’s way”.  I’m “not protecting him”
  • P: is that what the counselor thinks (you know the authorities) or dad thinks?  were you advised to have Kiddo removed from the house?
  • Me: I told him if they honestly believe I’m as good a mom as they always say I am, then they have to just TRUST ME. He said, “Well we do, but we don’t think you really see what’s going on because you’re so stressed out.”
  • NO – we weren’t told that.
  • P: by authorities
  • Me: Just supervise the kids closely – don’t let them be alone together.
  • My parents want to know how we supervise them when they’re sleeping.  We said that the kids know to stay in bed.  They do not believe that is adequate.
  • P: what do the authorities say on supervision when they are sleeping?
  • Me: The kids told my folks that they don’t wake us on the weekend unless they need something, which is CRAP. They either wake Hubby if he isn’t already up or he’s already up and downstairs.  They have separate bedrooms – DHS never said anything else about it.  I asked Dad “What do you want me to do?? Tie Kiddo to his bed???” “Well I don’t know but you aren’t watching them and making sure Runt is safe.”
  • P: hmmm….i think as long as you are following what the authorities are saying you are covered. put alarms on the doors so that if one is jarred open you would be woke up
  • Me: I have to say. I think this is enough for me not to talk to them.
  • P: this is enough to disown them
  • Me: I cannot believe they would do this to me.
  • P: trying to take your child away is horrible
  • Me: They asked for Runt for 1 week this summer.  I said okay.
  • P: nope
  • Me: Then mom SCHEDULED 2 weeks.  I said fine.  Now this????  SCREW YOU BOTH
  • P: exactly
  • Me: They didn’t say they would take him away, but I can see the writing on the wall of they’re willing to involve counselors behind my back.  Over my cold, dead, rotting, stinking corpse.  Not without a MAJOR apology. MAJOR.
  • P: i would never leave them alone with Runt or Kiddo again – they will just pump those kids
  • Me: I told you what mom said to Kiddo when she was here, right?
  • P: for information to attack you and Hubby with?  yeah…that was awful
  • Me: Did I tell you she talked to Kiddo without me or Hubby about the abuse?
  • P: yep
  • Me: Ugh.  I left a message for the woman dad talked to. She’s on the phone.
  • P: ugh…i’m so sorry hun
  •  Me: I am completely dumbfounded.  Just in shock
  • P: this sucks and really what the f&$% was your dad thinking.  i am too for you
  • Me: I cannot believe they would do this to me. This CLEARLY shows they only care about Runt and don’t give a flying rat’s ass about me, regardless of what BS they continually spew at me about “we miss you too, honey” right after “we miss Nigel SOOO much”.   The hell they do (miss me).
  • P: hun–i have to go, but I am so sorry this is happening.
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About last night

The problems that Kiddo has are apparently through every facet of his being.  He can’t even reason.  It’s so frustrating to see a bright kid act about 4 years younger than he actually is.
Last night Hubby told him to take a shower and go to bed (Hubby had to go out). After that, Runt was going to take a shower and then go to bed.  I went upstairs after about 35 mins to check on Kiddo. I knocked on the door and asked if he was almost done.  No response.  Opened the door – he is buck-ass naked & starts whining that he didn’t know how to start the shower.
I asked why the HELL he didn’t ask for help
(in SERIOUS whining voice) “I did ask for help from here…”  (here being the bathroom upstairs, with the door shut, with us downstairs with the TV on – I can’t imagine why we didn’t hear him)
I asked why didn’t he put on his shorts and come ask when nobody heard him upstairs with the door shut saying “Can you help me?”
“Daddy said he wanted me to stay here and take a shower.”
I was SHAKING.  I just didn’t even know how to respond.
I gave him PJs and told him to get in bed ASAP.
Also, when we were putting his new bed together yesterday, I noticed something on the bed.  He had a LARGE dried urine spot – about 2/3 the width of the mattress. He didn’t bother telling us and swears he didn’t notice it. So that also means he was downstairs in his wet PJs sitting on the sofa, chair, etc.
How do you get through to someone who has absolutely no logic, reasoning, sense of self care, and pretty much won’t remember anything you tell him 5 minutes later?  There has to be a way.  We’ve tried talking, yelling, begging, bribing, crying…  And every Friday it starts over like the prior weekend hadn’t even happened.
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“He’s having trouble with that????”

…my mother asked incredulously when I told her Kiddo was having trouble at school since the abuse.  She is totally okay with Runt having any type of issue, but Kiddo is a MONSTER – why would HE have any trouble??  He has ADHD and he’s a problem child and he HURT HER GRANDSON.
Yeah, he has ADHD.  Yes, he has behavior problems and can be a real pain in the ass.  Yes, he hurt Runt.
But let me see if I can finally make this clear to you, Mom…
She’s not stupid.  So why can’t she get this through her head??  She’s constantly asking in that “oh poor thing” voice how Runt is doing at counseling and in school since the abuse.  He’s actually fine.  The counselor at his school has done an amazing job with him.  I think we’re going to get a pretty good report from the counselor next week about him, too.  But she just can’t seem to understand that.  He HAS to be traumatized – he was attacked by that…that BEAST.
I don’t want to stop talking to my mother.  I love her.  But I cannot take this.  She treated Kiddo like a second-class citizen before – she gave him gifts and all, but that was a formality and that she felt she HAD to.  She talks a good game and says she loves him, says she cares about him and tries to keep everything “even”, but ever since he yakked on her table – TWICE – she has not liked nor loved that kid.  Now it’s even worse.
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I hate weekends.  Seriously.  Ok…I don’t hate the second weekend of the month – it’s just me, Hubby, and Runt.  I know that’s horrible to say, but Kiddo is like this extra piece that just doesn’t quite fit and pushes all the other pieces out of their normal spots.  He has no rules or discipline at Princess’ house, so he has no idea how to behave here.  That coupled with his being physically incapable of standing/sitting still and also not really being able to listen for beans makes weekends very long.  I would very much like to know who the child is that his teacher said sits, listens, and cooperates every day, because he sure as HELL isn’t the kid that comes here.  UGH.  Runt was TWO INCHES from Kiddo’s ear saying “[Kiddo], did you hear me? [Kiddo] are you listening?” and Kiddo was glassy eyed staring at the toy he was futzing with at the moment.  UGH.
Princess also only feeds him “kid food” (read: processed crap) and he only has to eat what he wants, or she’ll make him something else.  That is not how it is here.  We have 1 meal choice.  You don’t want it?  Don’t eat.  You don’t like it?  Don’t eat.  I made lunch for Runt, Kiddo, and Girlie (neighbor) while they were here playing.  PBJ, Sun Chips, and 5 fresh green beans.  Girlie didn’t like the beans – Ok, she’s not my kid, so I didn’t make her eat them.  Kiddo offered his beans to Runt because Runt was about ready to just grab them (he’s the goat of the family).  He wanted to give all of them to Runt and I said no, he had to eat at least 2.  So Runt ate 1-1/2 PBJ (half of mine), Sun Chips, and 13 green beans.  About 10 minutes AFTER Runt had finished, Kiddo was still picking at half of his sandwich and the 2 beans were sitting there.  He says, “I’m just going to eat this one.”  Uh, no.  I told him no, he likes green beans, he has ALWAYS liked green beans – EAT THE DAMN BEANS.  Ugh.  So…another 15 minutes later he STILL wasn’t done and was just trying to stall until we said to just get up, and Hubby went out and yelled at him to finish.  It took the kid almost 45 minutes to eat ONE PBJ (with no crusts, so not even a whole one), Sun Chips, and TWO green beans.  WTF???  It is INSANE how long it takes this child to eat and he is SO picky.
I feel bad ‘complaining’ about Kiddo.  It isn’t his fault and I know it.  It’s all Princess’ doing.  I love my stepson, but I hate his behavior.  He is capable of SO MUCH MORE.  When he lived with us at the beginning he was an ENTIRELY different kid.  She ignores all of his needs in place of her own.  She has said in the past that the better she is doing (she has clinically diagnosed severe depression/emotional issues), the better Kiddo will do.  While that is somewhat true, that doesn’t mean you can just chuck his needs out the window!  Sometimes you have to just suck it up and do what is best for them.  :(  But apparently not in her warped little world.
Princess showed up early last night – 5:22pm.  The front door was open, we were standing RIGHT THERE inside, and the twit still rang the bell.  Seriously.  I swear to God, she has to have been dropped square on her head…repeatedly…as a baby.  Nobody is that stupid.  Wow.
Readers:  I do apologize for the amount of ranting I do.  I have a lot of anger issues right now that I’m working through.  I have seen all 3 members of my immediate family repeatedly kicked in the teeth, stepped on, stabbed in the back, and neglected over the past 3 years by “family” and “friends”.  I had always been more of a “glass if half empty” kind of gal, but this situation (in addition to other extended family issues on my side) managed to kick me square in the keister to launch me into the middle of Cynical Field.  I’m slowly trying to work my way back.  Please bear with me though.  I can tell you though that being able to write it down helps tremendously to get it out.  I don’t usually mean all the things I say – it is frustration and hurt talking mostly – so definitely take it with a grain of salt.  But comments and suggestions are always welcome. <3
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