…and the saga continues

If you have read my blog for any length of time, you know the story of Little J. For those that aren’t familiar, Little J is my partners niece. She came to live with us back in 2009 because child protective services had to intervene due to some problems her mother was having. She was in our care for about 11 months before she was returned home to her mom in early 2010. We had become accustomed to her being with us for that 11 month period, and it was extremely hard to see her leave. We of course had no choice and Little J was sent back home to her mom. About 7 months later, Little J’s mother called asking if we would be willing to take her again and put her in preschool (read She’s Back) We of course took her back and the cycle started again. Little J was with us for about 4 months before her mom and her “recently released from prison”daddy decided to abruptly take her back. I was furious about the situation and my partner was both furious and hurt by it…being that this is her sister that she is dealing with. It was an all out emotional roller coaster ride. After this last fiasco with Little J and her mom, I told my partner that all this back and forth with this child was ridiculous and when/if her sister asks for her help again, she needs to say hell no. You can’t play with people’s lives, their money and emotions when its convenient for you and that’s exactly what her sister was doing. From that point up until around July, we never saw Little J. We knew she was ok because other family members would inform my partner of how the kids were doing.

Skip up to August 2011. Little J is now 4 years old and child protective services is once again involved and Little J has again been removed from her mom’s custody and guess what: she is back with us.  I am glad that she is back, but I hate that she has to go through all of the foolishness that her mom and dad have put her through. As of today, she has been back almost 2 months. Despite the drama, she is happy and healthy and speaks about 1,000 words a minute on just about any subject you can imagine! She’s back in preschool, she takes dance and gymnastic classes and rides her bike as much as she can convince someone to take her out to ride.

So here we go again….

pray for us

…and pray for Little J.

Journey to Me: Entry #14

Entry #14 (click here to read entry #13)

My aunt and I had an indifferent relationship the entire time I lived with her. She never mistreated me, but she also never treated me like a mother or a good stand in mother should. I always felt like I was the outsider in that home, so I stayed away as much as possible. I started high school a year after my mother died. Every person in my family went to one particular school, so of course that’s where I went. My 9th grade year was full of ups and downs. I became lax in school, skipping classes and messing around with boys. I was a smart ass to the teachers and basically did what the hell I wanted to do when it came to school. As my 9th grade year drew to a close (I passed with flying colors by the way…weak curriculum) Precious had a long talk with me about preparing for my future and what not. She didn’t tell me what I needed to do, but she gave me a lot to think about. Over the summer of 1988, I realized that I needed and wanted more for myself. I refused to be like those around me, so I needed to remove myself from the environment. I decided that I wanted to go to a better school…as school with an advanced curriculum. So I located a school, took the entrance exam and got in. My aunt was totally against this: “the school is too far”, how are you gonna get there? Why can’t you just stay where you are? I don’t know if this is a good idea…”did Precious tell you to do this? Just a whole host of negative shit…anything to get me to stay put. After months of talking and convincing, she finally agreed to the transfer. Thank God. Finally school was good. I was good. Grades were good. Perfect.

Then I got a job.

When I was 16 I got my first job at a local grocery store. The store was across town in an affluent neighborhood…a neighborhood that I had learned about years before through my god-mother Precious. I was excited about the job because it gave me a chance to spread my wings and learn about things I wouldn’t have otherwise been exposed to. I would go to school from 8-11:30 and catch the bus to my new found job. In the evening around 5:30pm, Precious would come by and pick me up from work so that I wouldn’t have to ride the bus home in the dark. My aunt was not happy about this arrangement. She would pitch a fit about me having a job so far away from home and she knew Precious was the reason I wanted to go and work around all those “white folks”. The environment was volatile, but I refused to quit my job because she of her bullying. Eventually she just went with it because I wasn’t gonna give in to all of her foolishness.

About two years passed and my aunt was diagnosed with end stage breast cancer. I was 18 at the time and was in the process of starting college and moving out of her house and into my grandmother’s house. I saw my aunt dwindle down to about 120 pounds, lose all of her hair and virtually slump over from the tumors in her breast. I heard her scream out of pain throughout the night. It was a terrible thing to witness, but I had so much hurt in my heart for her that I could not stay there…I frankly didn’t care that she was suffering like she was and I moved anyway. Leaving her sons and my brother to care for her. A year earlier, she and her husband got divorced-so she was basically all alone. Not to mention that two of her brothers died a few years before…our family was down to only a few people at this time; everyone was dying and I was totally aloof to all of it. I really didn’t care. I wanted my life to be totally separate from the crap I had seen and experienced at this house…in that family.

So I moved, and never looked back.

Buck Up!

We have become a society of weaklings. Adults are weak, our children are weak; everybody starts to cry when some bird shit lands on their shoulders. I don’t get it…why can’t we suck it up and continue to live. The whole bullying initiative has its place (physical violence etc), but I think it would be better if we taught our kids to stand up for themselves and not wuss out because someone called them fat, gay or ugly or sends them a nasty email. I was a kid of the 80′s and kids have always been cruel to each other….bullies have always existed. When I ran home and told my mother what so and so said about me: her response was always something along these lines: ” so what! why are you crying over something somebody said? Are you what she said you are? then don’t worry about it.” There was never a time in my young life that I ran home contemplating suicide because someone called me a name.

I’d really like to know what has changed since that time. Why are kids killing themselves because little johnny picks on them? Why are adults in therapy because their coworker called them fat? Why are we so depressed as a society? Where did our backbone go? What happened to standing flat-footed and telling the world where they can stick it? What happened to the days when parents didn’t get involved in the neighborhood kids disagreements, but let them work it out for themselves? What happened to self-confidence and self-esteem? Why can’t we stand up for ourselves anymore?

Now we have bullying initiatives, to combat life problems. Parents don’t teach their kids how to deal with life’s issues and problems anymore and the result is suicide, drug use and god knows what else. I guess it makes sense though; because if the parents are skipping through life on one leg, they don’t have the wherewithal to teach their kids how to deal with life’s issues. We can protest and have forums on bullying all we want…they will still exist. Taking a different approach would probably do us all some good. I personally am sick of the whining from parents and the media about the big kid, teased the little kid for 5 years and the little kid decides to shoot the big kid because he bullied him. GTFOH!

What are we gonna do in 15 years when the same ill-prepared for life kids have their own kids? Be prepared for an onslaught of more bleeding hearts with nothing to contribute but more crying and whining.