Why do I remain optimistic? Why do I keep insisting to look on the bright side? Why do I keep believing that good will somehow prevail and that someone in a position that matters will actually give a shit about these kids and what they are going through?
Lee's ex won the custody mediation. Because her father is a retired state cop and is buddies with the first judge, he ruled that the case wasn't even a relocation because she moved before there was a custody order in place. Too bad the law doesn't say that. It's not ambiguous AT ALL.
It must be nice to be above the law and do whatever you want, continuing to hurt your children in so many ways, and just trip through life oblivious to anything but your own selfish desire to get revenge. Who cares about the kids? If their own mother doesn't, why should anyone else? And the people who actually do, can't do a damned thing about it.
I am physically sick about this. Sick.
This woman has had her four year old on 4 different psychiatric drugs in as many weeks, claiming that all of his "problems" are his father's fault. Funny, when he was still here, the psychiatrist said he was a pretty normal four-year-old with some anxiety due to recent big changes in his life. She wouldn't diagnose anything, she refused to peg him with ADHD, and she never even MENTIONED medication. The boy has problems now because his mother ripped him from everything he's ever known and moved him 1600 miles from his father and siblings. His little sister used to laugh and be goofy on Skype. Now she just whines and cries. She's depressed. At the age of 3.
I guess the whole point of this post is what the fuck is wrong with me? Seriously. Should I just give up? I'm the one who was so optimistic about the end of my pregnancy, encouraging the other preggo mom's I knew when they would complain of being so uncomfortable. "It's all worth it!" "Soon we'll get to hold our babies." "I might be uncomfortable, but I'm more excited to look in my baby's eyes than to just 'get him out of me'!" And for what? A few hours with his corpse, while he quickly turned cold, and the marks of death spread over his precious little face, turning his skin blue and his lips black. He never opened his eyes, so I never looked into them.
I suck at being pessimistic, but I may just have to get used to it. If life doesn't quit sticking it in my back door.