Saturday, June 26, 2010
Welcome, come aboard the Drama Train.
*sigh*
About a month ago, Rusty got a cryptic message through Facebook from Sea Hag's neighbor asking him to call her. He drug his feet about it because Neighbor is a notorious gossip and busybody. Finally, he figured he'd hear her out and take it all with a grain of salt.
Neighbor tells Rusty she's concerned for H. This was at the end of May, when school was just about to be let out for the summer. The neighbor was concerned that she's seen H coming home with her mom past 11pm at night on school nights. See, Sea Hag's mother, BattleAx had surgery on a bleeding ulcer (I think) sometime in April or May, and insurace coverage required her to recouperate in a nursing home. Naturally, since Sea Hag can't function daily without her hourly dose of Mommy, she's spending every free minute at the nursing home with her mom. And forcing H to stay there, too. Now I realize that while *I* would never force my child to sit in a nursing home for 6 hours every night, it's not against the law and there's nothing we could do about it. We asked H occassionally how BattleAx was doing, and she was pretty tight-lipped about it--understandable because I'm sure that it's been stressful for her, and I'm sure she doesn't fully understand the situation either. We'd have made a bigger deal about being out that late on school nights, but we only found out during the last week of school, so it was pretty much over by the time we knew and again, nothing we could do about it. We did notice, however, that over the past couple of months, H's behavior has seriously regressed. She's crying for Mommy again, she's thinking up new ways to be upset and frightened of things ("I'm dehydrated! I have to go to the hospital!" "My brain hurts. Am I having a stroke?"), and we had a couple more incidents where she was touching herself--practically DRUMMING on her crotch while sitting just a couple feet from me, and would stop if I turned my head in her direction, thinking I hadn't noticed.
So Rusty got another email from Neighbor pointing out that the late nights are still going on, and despite what H told us, it sounded to her like BattleAx wouldn't be coming home this week. So Rusty asked H again about how BattleAx was doing, and does she visit her very often? Just open-ended kinds of questions to try to get her talking about it. H informed us that yes, they go back to the nursing home every night after dinner and stay late. "BACK to the nursing home? So you go during the day, too?" As it turns out, H informs him, she goes to the nursing home and stays with BattleAx while SeaHag is at work, and when Mom's done, she picks her up, takes her home for dinner, and brings her back to spend the evening there. Did I mention that mom works full time? 40 hours a week? Yes, she's being babysat by a NURSING HOME PATIENT. How the HELL the facility allowed this to happen is beyond me. It makes no fucking sense. But why would a child make this up?
When I was H's age, my grandmother was in a nursing home, too. We went to visit her once a month because we lived too far away to come daily. My mother had enough sense to make us visit with her for all of about 5 minutes and then let us go back to the parking lot and wait for her there, because let me tell you: a nursing home is a very creepy, scary place for a 7 yr old. No fucking WONDER she's regressed. She's been truly traumatized.
Neighbor made it clear to Rusty that she had considered calling CPS, but they live in a tiny little busybody town and she knows people who work in that office, and she was afraid word would get out and she has to live next to these people. I emailed a friend of mine who happens to have just left a job as a social worker in a nursing home and asked her opinion. "Call CPS NOW." she said.
But as it turns out, BattleAx WAS released yesterday. Baaaaah, too late. Fuck. My friend said call CPS anyway. And report the home to the state. That part was easy, there was an email address for complaints, so that was done quickly and easily. But CPS? Oh the hornet's nest this will stir up. The stress. Crap. Crap. Crap. But she was right, this is a big deal, and we can't keep looking the other way--how do we know BattleAx won't end up in the home again in a couple of months? And as she pointed out, just because she was released from the nursing home doesn't mean she's fit to babysit a kid--chances are she still needs someone to care for HER. So I did it. I called. I feel dirty about it, though--guilty, like I'm just the bitter Step Mom trying to fuck with Sea Hag's world. But I know that's not how it is. I know I spoke only the truth as I've experienced it.
*sigh*
About a month ago, Rusty got a cryptic message through Facebook from Sea Hag's neighbor asking him to call her. He drug his feet about it because Neighbor is a notorious gossip and busybody. Finally, he figured he'd hear her out and take it all with a grain of salt.
Neighbor tells Rusty she's concerned for H. This was at the end of May, when school was just about to be let out for the summer. The neighbor was concerned that she's seen H coming home with her mom past 11pm at night on school nights. See, Sea Hag's mother, BattleAx had surgery on a bleeding ulcer (I think) sometime in April or May, and insurace coverage required her to recouperate in a nursing home. Naturally, since Sea Hag can't function daily without her hourly dose of Mommy, she's spending every free minute at the nursing home with her mom. And forcing H to stay there, too. Now I realize that while *I* would never force my child to sit in a nursing home for 6 hours every night, it's not against the law and there's nothing we could do about it. We asked H occassionally how BattleAx was doing, and she was pretty tight-lipped about it--understandable because I'm sure that it's been stressful for her, and I'm sure she doesn't fully understand the situation either. We'd have made a bigger deal about being out that late on school nights, but we only found out during the last week of school, so it was pretty much over by the time we knew and again, nothing we could do about it. We did notice, however, that over the past couple of months, H's behavior has seriously regressed. She's crying for Mommy again, she's thinking up new ways to be upset and frightened of things ("I'm dehydrated! I have to go to the hospital!" "My brain hurts. Am I having a stroke?"), and we had a couple more incidents where she was touching herself--practically DRUMMING on her crotch while sitting just a couple feet from me, and would stop if I turned my head in her direction, thinking I hadn't noticed.
So Rusty got another email from Neighbor pointing out that the late nights are still going on, and despite what H told us, it sounded to her like BattleAx wouldn't be coming home this week. So Rusty asked H again about how BattleAx was doing, and does she visit her very often? Just open-ended kinds of questions to try to get her talking about it. H informed us that yes, they go back to the nursing home every night after dinner and stay late. "BACK to the nursing home? So you go during the day, too?" As it turns out, H informs him, she goes to the nursing home and stays with BattleAx while SeaHag is at work, and when Mom's done, she picks her up, takes her home for dinner, and brings her back to spend the evening there. Did I mention that mom works full time? 40 hours a week? Yes, she's being babysat by a NURSING HOME PATIENT. How the HELL the facility allowed this to happen is beyond me. It makes no fucking sense. But why would a child make this up?
When I was H's age, my grandmother was in a nursing home, too. We went to visit her once a month because we lived too far away to come daily. My mother had enough sense to make us visit with her for all of about 5 minutes and then let us go back to the parking lot and wait for her there, because let me tell you: a nursing home is a very creepy, scary place for a 7 yr old. No fucking WONDER she's regressed. She's been truly traumatized.
Neighbor made it clear to Rusty that she had considered calling CPS, but they live in a tiny little busybody town and she knows people who work in that office, and she was afraid word would get out and she has to live next to these people. I emailed a friend of mine who happens to have just left a job as a social worker in a nursing home and asked her opinion. "Call CPS NOW." she said.
But as it turns out, BattleAx WAS released yesterday. Baaaaah, too late. Fuck. My friend said call CPS anyway. And report the home to the state. That part was easy, there was an email address for complaints, so that was done quickly and easily. But CPS? Oh the hornet's nest this will stir up. The stress. Crap. Crap. Crap. But she was right, this is a big deal, and we can't keep looking the other way--how do we know BattleAx won't end up in the home again in a couple of months? And as she pointed out, just because she was released from the nursing home doesn't mean she's fit to babysit a kid--chances are she still needs someone to care for HER. So I did it. I called. I feel dirty about it, though--guilty, like I'm just the bitter Step Mom trying to fuck with Sea Hag's world. But I know that's not how it is. I know I spoke only the truth as I've experienced it.
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