Well, another day, same stuff, if you know what I mean….

I think most offices, especially if they close for lunch for an hour, open at 8:00 a.m., yes? Reasonable assumption. Oh, no – the caseworker’s office doesn’t open till 9:00 a.m. Okay, fine.

But why in the world, at 10:00 a.m., am I still getting a message that they are closed for Good Friday? Do they not know that Jesus has risen, Good Friday has passed, and now it’s MONDAY?? And when I finally got a real, live person, she just kept putting me through to more voicemail.

Our home has been deemed “safe”, at least for our youngest, based on the fun and exciting visit from the state investigator last week. Apparently, though, we are still “guilty” in the eyes of the state, even though the GAL told the judge we weren’t in court to “determine what happened”. Huh?

And, even though I haven’t been accused of anything whatsoever, it seems someone has said I must have supervised visitation with my son. It’s not in any court documents; the judge didn’t make that statement as far as I remember. Nothing is signed, sealed, or delivered.

I’m also not allowed to get any information about him at all – where he is, how he is, what he does, nothing. I’m not on “the list”. Yet my parental rights have not been terminated. Of course, the shelter didn’t know he was on probation, and his DJO isn’t on that list, so she can’t get information either.

What kind of circus is this, anyway?

I haven’t heard from the caseworker for almost a week – and she’s out of the office until tomorrow. Nice for some people to have a holiday, while they ruin it for others. Ditto for her supervisor.

So here’s the dilemma – do I keep fighting, or give up? My son still insists he was assaulted, even though he wanted me to pick him up that night. It wasn’t until I told him “no” that he claimed assault and fear of being at home. Interesting. Quite similar to him sabotaging my computer after we removed his, wouldn’t you say?

…responsible for the oversight of our children – the same people who, ladies and gentleman, who are allowed to make arbitrary decisions affecting our rights as parents; the same people who make the determination of what is best for our children, based on a fifteen-minute conversation with those kids and hearing “evidence” slanted towards one side.

Yes, these are our state workers – employees, if you will, since we do pay their wages via our taxes…but I digress.

Let me point out a few inconsistencies and potential nanny-state policies and, of course, some unethical instances and possible legal violations:

My son was removed from our home because he was violent and out of control; he called me several hours later and asked me to pick him up, so he could go to work the next day. I refused.

The next afternoon, I was informed that my son had suffered injury at the hands of my husband and that he (my son) was being taken into protective custody. The report I received four days later stated that my son was “fearful” and that my home was “dangerous”.

Why would a fearful kid, who thought our home was dangerous, want to return home? He only works about four hours a day, so for the other twenty hours he’d likely be right here. ‘Tis a puzzle.

So on Friday afternoon, and Saturday, as per a recent blog post, I tried to call anyone I could think of to find out where my son had been taken. Their excuse? It was a weekend. And just think – I was trying to find about the well-being and whereabouts of a 16-year-old; what if my child was only six? And besides, there were several hours on Friday, or even Monday morning, when someone could have either (a) answered the phone, or (b) returned my calls.

The state was so concerned about the conditions of my home and the welfare of our younger son that they didn’t actually do a home visit until Wednesday. Yes, that’s right, Wednesday. And they were thirty minutes late getting here, too. And, I suppose it’s standard, but they checked my refrigerator for food – I graciously showed them the pantry too, and offered to open the freezer in the garage; they declined.

They asked for a “tour” – I was heartily surprised they didn’t flush the toilet or turn on faucets; you know, just to make sure we had plumbing and all. Since, after all, we do live in a rather affluent suburb, in a $300K house – never know what evils might be lurking….

They talked to my younger son; he’s no dummy – he asked why his brother was in “protective” custody when WE were the ones in danger from him? I don’t believe the investigator gave him a very satisfactory answer – she seemed a bit at a loss as to how to communicate with an intelligent 5th grader. Could it be ‘cause she has no children? Or maybe just no personality. Hard to say.

This entire experience has been insulting and degrading, to say the least. The entire “investigation” was made on (1) a snap judgment by a DJO who had zero familiarity with my son or his prior record; and (2) the lies of a kid who is experienced in lying, has been caught doing so by authorities, and who was currently on probation himself.

Fast forward to today: I called the shelter where he’s staying and was told I was not on “the list” – they are not “allowed” to give me, his mother, any information. I was also told I must have supervised visitation, although I haven’t been accused of anything and that declaration is nowhere to be found on any paperwork I possess. Furthermore, his probation office is not on “the list” either; apparently, the state failed to inform the shelter that he is ON probation. How’s that for misinformation?

And the caseworker? Oh, her office is closed for Good Friday. Now, before you get all inflamed about this, I will say that it’s a private agency contracted by the state; yes, there is a fine line between that separation of church and state.

So, I got a 10-minute in-and-out “visit” with my son when he was brought here Tuesday to pick up his things; I have not heard from his caseworker in three days, and now it’s a weekend. A holiday weekend. Supposedly there is a visit scheduled for next Tuesday, but I have no time, no location – I thought that was what a schedule entailed. Guess I was wrong.

I did come across, in all the crap they gave me, a complaint form. How handy. Surely the phone lines will be burning up, come Monday morning. Probably contacting my attorney was an excellent move. Someone has got to put the brakes on these folks and their godlike aspirations. Someone.

And no, I do not hold my son blameless; far from it. He’s been lying, manipulating, and conniving for many, many years. This time he’s gone way past the line; maybe he’ll realize it. I’m not holding out much hope.