If only it wasn’t this way.
Today I found myself thinking a thought that I have only shared with my therapist. The thought is: I just don’t understand how my life could get any more complicated. My therapist says that there is a common thread throughout my life. I think it is learning to face my fears.
My fears look like a pool of hot bubbling tar. If I get too close I am afraid I will be drawn into it’s sticky, burning mess. I am in that mess now, but I am no longer going to let my fears stop me. I am not burning up. I am walking through them and moving forward.
Last night was the visit from Child Protective Services. When it came time for them to speak to son #2, I left the table. I stated that I felt it would be unfair for me to be present, that I would never be impartial when it came to that situation. I am the mom and I am a very angry mom.(that last part I didn’t say out loud) I had brought up the shaving with son #2 once in the previous week. I know dwelling on it will make him nervous and I don’t want him scared.
When I came down stairs when son #2 was finished, the case worker told me what he had said. Daddy was there when I shaved my balls. I was sitting on the toilet. He was shaving his face. We were being silly. He showed me what to do.
My good friend said it best, “Ugh. I feel sick.”
I don’t understand why this son was not ordered to stay with me, why all the kids were not ordered to stay with me. Why isn’t there a full investigation with evaluations?
The case worker tells me that “You know, he is 15 years old and has 15 year old boy hormones, maybe he just got a little excited.”
My brain is screaming. What the fuck? He is mentally four years old. He doesn’t know what sex is. He doesn’t know about masturbation. His just told you that his father helped him shave his balls and they were being silly. And you want to tell me that maybe he just got a little excited? So, it’s okay for him to get excited in front of his father and then have his father show him how to shave his scrotum? What more do you need for now?
She tells me that the next step is for DD to be interviewed. That she would love to baby sit for the boys some time because they are just great.
Wonderful – if they are so great, why aren’t you keeping them safe. Don’t you have enough information now, to at least order some evaluations for their father? Do you honestly think he is going to say ‘Yes, I shaved my son’s balls. I know it was wrong. I just had an error of judgement and I won’t ever do it again.’
Is the world really this dangerously dumb? (stupid didn’t work here and ignorant just doesn’t fit)
Today it suddenly dawned on me that I should have gone right to the police. If son #2 had come from a sleepover or a camp or an overnight school outing and his scrotum was shaved, I would have gone right to the police. Instead, I turned to Child Protective Services. I think of this poor kid or this one and I realize that they can’t always do the best job – there are only so many workers and so many more children in need. This case certainly does not compare to the above two tragedies.
Around 8 pm I received a text message from DD, “Call me” I respond, “want me to call you now or after I drop off son #4 and the kids are in bed” He replies “just call me”
I know this means something unpleasant is coming. I call him. Son #2, Son #3 and Son #4 are in the care with me. We are in the driveway waiting to back out. Daddy Dildo begins, “Why is Child Protective Services leaving a card in my door?”
I reply, “I guess they are investigating what happened to Son #2.”
Daddy Dildo, “Who would call? We agreed you wouldn’t tell anyone about this.”
No, we didn’t, I think. You attempted, once again, to bully me into silence and I didn’t allow myself to be bullied.
DD rages, “You didn’t tell anyone did you?”
I answer him, “Well, I did tell the school nurse. I am concerned. I don’t think it is appropriate for son #2 to be shaving his scrotum. It just doesn’t make sense.”
DD roars enough through the phone so that the kids start to cry when the hear him, “YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE. YOU KNEW IF YOU TOLD THE SCHOOL NURSE THAT SHE WOULD CALL CPS. YOU NEED TO STOP MANIPULATING CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES TO TRY AND GET TO ME. YOU ARE DONE, LUCY, DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU ARE DONE!!!!”
I yell into the phone that I am not the problem and ask why he wasn’t upset when he found out that his son had been shaved – then I realize that he had hung up the phone.
I am shaking and the kids are upset. I didn’t want them to hear this. I didn’t want them to be dragged into it. I also don’t want to hide and pretend that everything is okay. It is not okay. It is the opposite of okay. Sugar coating this very serious situation sends the wrong message about privacy, touching and safety. This is a serious issue and son #2 could have been injured using a razor.
Son #2 asks again if he is in trouble. I assure him that he is not in trouble. He asks three times in a row again if he is in trouble (part of Fragile X is anxiety and perseveration of speech for assurance) – I assure him three more times that he is not in trouble.
Son #3 is getting upset. “Can we just stop talking about it?” he pleads.
I maintain my soothing mommy voice, “If you guys need to talk about it we will. Mommy and Daddy don’t always agree and sometimes we yell. It’s not the best thing to do, but sometimes Mommy and Daddy get upset.”
S0n #4 is crying. I cannot describe my worry about him. I am now driving him to his father’s house. I tell him how much I love him and miss him and can’t wait until I can see him this weekend. He tells me that I will always be in his heart. My throat catches and I try not to let a flood of tears come down. We hug, he wipes his tears and I watch him run into his father’s house. I don’t feel safe and I am afraid for him.
Tomorrow I go to the detective at our local police department and explore my options. This is very wrong and I am not going to rest until I get some answers.