That’s the phrase that immediately popped into my head when I first laid eyes on those two boys. They look like concentration camp survivors or something. Bones protruding out of everywhere. Buzz cuts (to aid in destroying their lice infestations).
And then I saw something that REALLY disturbed me.
The oldest boy is the spitting image of pseudo-brother at 12 years old. The youngest boy is the spitting image of pseudo-brotherII at 8 years old. Given that my two pseudo-brothers look absolutely nothing alike, this disturbs me a little. My mind is just a little too boggled at this point to even figure out how genetics work, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the youngest boy belongs to my youngest pseudo-brother.
After everything I saw and heard yesterday, NOTHING would surprise me.
I can’t get into any specifics anymore, but I’ll give you a quick rundown:
1. The meeting with the social workers, lawyers and police went fine. I got more information than I know what to do with. Suffice it to say that it ain’t too damn pretty. I am angry…at the whole damn world…but most especially at my pseudo-family.
2. Meeting the boys was a lesson in ‘faking it’. I had to pretend that merely looking at these two boys wasn’t enough to make me physically ill. I had to pretend that I was just a visiting friend who brought presents for the boys. I had to pretend that I didn’t fear breaking them in two when they hugged me tight as I left. I had to pretend that my heart wasn’t breaking. Meeting them was also a reminder of the resiliency of children. They both have so much potential…and so many obstacles to overcome.
3. I had plenty of time to attend pseudo-brother’s court hearing. The showdown with pseudo-mother afterwards was especially satisfying and is deserving of a post itself, which I may write up later.
4. On Thursday, I meet with my social worker here and her supervisor to determine what the game plan will be in the event I decide to take the kids. The outcome of that meeting will determine my decision.
5. Monkeyboy’s first day of school went well. I met his teacher in the morning when I dropped him off and she seems nice…and young. Too young. I hope the hell she’s tougher than she looks.
6. I am amazed at my friends, both on- and offline. I am a lucky woman indeed.
7. I have a boy turning into a young man today and must get ready for some festivities that will be held in BooBoo’s honor this evening. My mommy genes are getting a workout this week and I expect to be a mixture of irrational maternal emotions today.
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