Life and struggles

It appears that making false reports to CPS was not sufficient for the unstable, fired nanny. She has now targetted comments to my blog as well. If such comments show up, I will simply delete them. I will not engage nor respond. We have nothing to hide, and she was so kind as to send a colection of bizarre lies to CPS that I can truthfully state that the truth of my story and my parenting has been very recently vetted by the state with no concerns unearthed whatsoever. Trash calls CPS with false allegations, and trash is what her own actions proved her to be.

I will simply state a few facts. First, the state has vetted my family, compliments of the nanny and her lies. Second, we have passed adoption homestudies in three different states and been licensed as foster parents in two states. We are currently completing our fourth adoption in yet another state. We are an open book and the amazing children we are raising are a testiment to who we are as parents. We are not isolated. We are out and about in the community and more than willing to endure the scrutiny if necessary. Lastly, I have friendships that go back to my childhood. Close friends who are dear and tremendous supports to myself and my family. Though we moved away from support systems to provide the best for Micah, they continue to support us from a distance. Many of them have been in my home more times than I can count and have seen by myself and my nanny in action. Not one of those individuals has contact with the nanny. Not one of those individuals has found any truth in her accusations.

I will not engage crazy in my life. I cannot for the life of me figure out how I continue to attract it with my best efforts to avoid it, but my insane mother did teach me one very important lesson, to never engage it or you will feed it. She also taught me the meaning of the word projection. I've gotten quite good at recognizing projection in crazy when I encounter it. I just need to get better at avoiding crazy in the first place, thus why I established the entire boundary that I cannot and will not open my home again.

In the time since Micah died, I am learning that a broken heart is not a romantic term for mere grief. It is actually a biological response to losing someone you love, and losing a child is the worst kind of pain there is to endure. The children are doing well. Most of them are actually downgrading their therapy and acute loss does not seem to be a daily repsonse anymore. I, otoh, cannot force my tears and only feel free to release them in private and when I truly feel safe to do so. Instead, my grief is having some very frightening physical manifestations. I really thought that the emptiness would subside by this point. I no longer see and hear him except in my dreams. However, I still feel so deeply empty. Micah took so much energy and skills to care for that I often feel lost without his schedule to adhere to in a given day. Having sent all by one school child and the preschooler to school now, that emptiness seems to be magnified in ways I never imagined. I had intended to come and write about a broken heart today, and instead found attacks by my former nanny here. I will save that post for another day, apparently.