This isn’t one of those things that I’m going to laugh about later. Raising children, I’ve had plenty of those moments, but this is not one of them.
If you have been following my blogs you know that I filled out an application to be considered for kinship placement of my grandson Jesse, who has been in foster care for more than two years. Had a background check, credit report, and fire inspection done. Then it was up to Children’s services to do their part.
The social worker who was scheduled to come and do a home study to finish out my application called at the last minute yesterday to cancel. No explanation. Said to call her supervisor. Did. Was told that there was someone in her office, would I like her voice mail? Sure. Left a voice mail but felt that, with our time constraints, I needed to get the babies ready and head over to their office. When the supervisor came out to the waiting area to greet me, she acted as if she had no clue what was going on. The OTHER worker had the file, after all, so until she had my file, she couldn’t say what was happening. She would see her later and look at the file. Fine.
Called two times in the afternoon, keeping in mind that all of this had to be filed by my grandson’s Guardian Ad Litem by Friday. Tomorrow. But my calls did not get through and had to leave more messages.
Called Guardian to tell her what was going on, no answer. No call back. Called lawyer. Said he would find out what the social worker had to say and call back today. Guess he forgot. Finally I called the director of CS and got an explanation for why the canceled the home study (and later I learned that they hadn’t even bothered to call my references). Evidently they have found I have a history with CS from 1989. I am flabbergasted. It took me hours to comb through the memory archives in my brain and come up with something that might be IT. (’cause, guess what? They won’t tell ME what I supposedly did. They will only release that info to another CS agency).
Back in 1989 I was 6 years in to a very bad relationship with a live-in boyfriend. He was abusive and mean to me, although he never did anything to my kids. The hard thing for them was being in the middle of a that war between him and me all the time. YEP, I tried to get away from him. Tried, even, to get a restraining order, but they wouldn’t let me have one. You heard me right. It would be his word against mine. I heard that a lot from law enforcement back then.
He broke my door down but it was his word against mine. He beat me up and the cops asked me if he slapped me around a little. Once when the BF was in a drunken coked-up frenzy he threatened me with a long knife. My little boy ran to the neighbors and called the police. Their response? “Cindy, I’m tired of your petty arguments.” Told the BF to go take a walk and cool off. I said, “Make him leave! He isn’t even on the lease! I don’t want him here!” But, NOPE, they wouldn’t help. They were guys and I was property. Even the woman cop told me that I could write up a report on him for spitting phlegm in my face, but, she said, “For spitting on you? You’ll get laughed out of court.” Once they actually didn’t talk to me after I called, they addressed him (with sympathy, no less). “What’s a matter, is she on the rag?”
You know, I hope to God they get to the bottom of this, but I’m pretty sure the accusation “that was substantiated” against me was that I “allowed” myself to be beaten in front of my kids. Seriously. I’m not even making that up. They filed it as emotional abuse against my babies. And it was. But I didn’t do it. That kind of thinking is barbaric. I thought we had come so far in our education about battered women. Let’s hope.
Nevertheless, without God’s intervention, tomorrow the report will be filed and I probably will NOT be getting my grandson. Social services will be granted permanent custody and the foster parents, who have been so eager to adopt him, WILL…and my family will be out of his life for good. This is sickening. Heartrending.
Also, yes, I know that God has the final say. This is me in the emotional process of it all. Give me a minute, now. Don’t get all preachy. I know God is good, mighty, loving, all-powerful. But I’m not. I’m only a little human who is scared. So scared! Because, even though I trust him to do the RIGHT thing, what if I’m not it? It’s still gonna hurt no matter how right it is.
Lord, have your way.