I’ve had plenty of other things to help keep my mind off of X. Today the hoofed one and I rocked the house. Unfortunately for me, I’m very superstitious and winning the practice round does not bode well for the real deal. Better to tank first, instead of peaking right before the big event. Hopefully, I’ll be proven wrong on Saturday and Sunday when state medal finals kick off.
The social worker called me late this afternoon to let me know she had met with X and his mother and to tell me we can resume our regular visitation schedule. In other words, I get to send the N-Man over there tomorrow and wait 34 long hours for him to come home, hoping and trusting that really, everything is actually ok over there.
I don’t know how to say this without sounding like I wanted X to be found undeniably guilty of something atrocious, but oh goody. His reaction to the news of what the N-Man said was “appropriate” and the SW assured me that X and his mother have worked out a “safety plan” where by she will be the one responsible for all diaper changes and baths. Apparently, he did say that when he changes the N-Man, he cries a lot when his bottom is wiped. Other than that, case closed as unfounded/inconclusive and we can go back to normal. Or can I? Is that really so realisitc? I suppose, in time, perhaps it is, but not over night. Not just because one week later someone who has known my family for a total of two face to face hours says so. Excuse me for thinking that’s just a wee bit too much to ask. But I’ll try. I really will.
All I know is thank God tonight is the monthly single mom’s meeting at my church. It’s been a while since I went but if ever I needed some fellowship, support and prayer, tonight is it.
I was originally told it would take two or three months to resolve. Instead it is going to be only one week. Last week the N-Man made a spontaneous statement that his “Tata” hurt him and described, in anatomically correctly language, the hurt being to his private parts. Social services took notice and got involved.
When I first had contact with the crisis worker, she described to me a lengthy investigative procedure, during which the N-Man would not be allowed to have any contact with X. I felt a tangled mix of relief and despair for my child at that thought. I haven’t slept since it started. I’m blatantly depressed. And today, everything changed. Working in this field, I should not be surprised. When a two and a half year old makes any kind of statement it should be taken with a grain of salt because, even as verbal as the N-Man is you can never be certain of the context and they are not usually able to follow up with a detailed statement. Unless there are witnesses or some other physical evidence, there is nothing that can be done. And that is exactly how it’s panning out.
The new, assigned investigator came to my house to meet me and the N-Man. Fickle little boy that he is, he chose today of all days to play coy, be modest about his crazy advanced verbal abilities, clam up, and decide he wanted nothing to do with a visitor he’s never met before. She and I tried for an hour to get him chattering but he was not going to have any of it.
As she left I asked her what the next step was and was informed that because of his tender, non verbal years, unless she was able to obtain an additional disclosure from him, the police were declining to do any investigation of their own, as it would be for naught. So she’ll call X, schedule a home visit, which will go well because his mother is back in town and, unless X offers up any explicit information, HA, things will be over. That’s it. The file will be closed as unfounded/inconclusive. Unless someday the N-Man says something more, we’ll never know what happened or what he meant. The child welfare professional in me fully understands and accepts that reality. The mama bear wants to throw up.
I don’t know what’s worse. Knowing a declaration of that magnitude came out of my child’s mouth or, one week later, having to send that child back over to the person he stated hurts him. Do I think X did what our adult minds automatically assume? I don’t know. There are a lot of things X has done in the past that I never would have expected so I don’t know what to believe when it comes to that man. I know I don’t want to believe it. But I do know there are numerous other things, lack of proper diapering, nutrition, and supervision, that happen when his mother is gone. So what am I supposed to think?
How am I supposed to feel knowing what the statement was and that a so called “investigation” that couldn’t really be done yielded a whole lot of nothing either way? I’m supposed to send him back over there like nothing ever happened? How do I do that? How do I abide by the advice of the co-parenting class I as required to take during our divorce and just sit by and trust, as opposed to conducting an inquisition the moment he comes through my safe door? How do I go back to where I was last week? HOW? I wish I could gather up my sweet, tiny, little boy and just flee this God forsaken city that I never wanted to live in in the first place and that, at best, I tolerate because of X, and go anywhere else.
If, at the front end, it felt like a kick to the gut today’s knowlegdge feels like more of the same but with a pointed, steel toed boot.
I can’t talk about why but I need to take a break from this blog for a while. Some pretty heavy duty shit happened this evening involving the N-Man and until that’s resolved, it’s best for me to not be openly talking about my life here. If you know me through any other boards I’ll still be around there and, although having another child is suddenly not at the top of my radar, I’ll still keep up on my choice parenting blog as well. But for now, here. Mums the word.
And if you have any spare juju or prayers to send my way, I’d greatly appreciate it. When things get to a point that I can talk about it, I promise I will.
