I’m absolutely heartbroken right now. Like my heart is LITERALLY in pieces. Amanda, my aunt/biological sister/fucking-demon-spawn-bitch (oh, I can go on and on) took the girls, Emma and Ava. It’s only been 2 days, but it feels like longer. It feels like forever.
We knew it was coming. The day that she’d take the girls…we knew it was coming. It’s that simple…and yet it’s really not. It’s really complicated, so I’ll just start somewhere near the beginning. So Amanda is the biological mother of my two nieces, Emma and Ava…but she’s no mother. What she IS however is a narcissistic, heartless, self-centered BITCH. That’s Amanda.
Her oldest daughter, my niece Emma, will be 10 in November and is Special Needs. She was a preemie and has a genetic/chromosomal condition that causes developmental delays, in addition to her having epilepsy and a range of other medical issues. Since she came home from the hospital, my grams –Amanda’s adopted mother (my grandmother and grandfather adopted her when my mother wanted to give her up) –like I said, it’s complicated–anyhow, my grams has been her (Emma’s) primary caretaker. She was the one that got up during the night with Emma for feedings and diaper changes. She’s the one that’s taken Emma to all her appointments with the pediatrician and the specialists. Because of Emma’s epilepsy, Emma sleeps in my grams’ room…basically so my grams can monitor her. Which is a good thing because Emma will literally spike a fever in minutes, out of absolutely nowhere, and go into a seizure without any real warning whatsoever. And it’s happened–the seizures–many, many times that I couldn’t even give you a number if I tried. But what I do know is that for a good 95% of the seizures she’s had, Amanda–her “mother”–wasn’t even home at the time. I can’t tell you how many times we’d call her with an emergency and she’d be elsewhere, usually with her phone off, or she’ll simply just ignore the call–even when we leave messages telling her it’s an emergency. And why is that? Because she doesn’t care. It’s really that simple. She doesn’t care. Not about Emma, not about Ava…not about anyone but herself. And she’s proven that multiple times over.
Emma, who is literally one of the sweetest little human beings you could ever hope to meet–who has been through so much in her short life already–can also be really, really difficult behavior-wise. She’s not your typical 9 year old. For starters, she’s the size of a kindergartener. Secondly, she’s got the intellect of a pre-schooler and zero safety-awareness. You can tell her she’s doing something wrong, but she doesn’t understand it. Not really. She just thinks it’s a game. And Amanda can’t handle her. At all. She’ll just yell and swear and rough-handle her to get her to do what she wants her to do. Emma takes a lot–A LOT–of patience. And she can drive you up the wall, let me tell you. But she’s just a little girl. A little girl that because of her condition, allows for her mother to receive a disability check every month to do with as she pleases. And that’s all Emma is to her. A check every month. She doesn’t care about Emma. She doesn’t love her. She loves the money. All the new clothes and shoes and designer purses and manicures and weekend getaways…that’s what Emma is to Amanda. That’s what Amanda loves. Not the little girl behind the dollar signs…the little girl that doesn’t see a cent of that money.
And it’s the same thing with her youngest, Ava…who just turned five this past week. Ava’s a bright, beautiful little girl with the sweetest personality and the biggest heart…and her mother has just as much disregard for her as she does for her sister. But unlike Emma, Ava understands what’s going on. She understands all of it.
Ava’s birthday was this week…and that’s when it all went down. Amanda–who hasn’t been living at the house and pretty much moved out and into her new boyfriend’s place–this guy that she’s been seeing for a year despite the fact that her divorce from Emma and Ava’s father was only JUST finalized this month–was at the house for Ava’s birthday. My mother and I had just gotten home after hours in the ER because of one of my headache spells and the second my mother walked in the door, Amanda was in her face telling her that “she’d see her in court…that she had the messages…blah blah…” Yeah. Apparently Amanda had gone through my mother’s phone while we were gone and taken pictures of text messages between my mother and the girls’ father. I don’t know what all was said in the messages or what–and I really don’t care–but that’s what started it all. Naturally, my mother was livid that she’d gone in her phone without her permission. As she should be. So my mother being well…her…called up the cops to see if there was anything illegal in what Amanda had done. They apparently told her there was nothing she could do and she was about to hang up when Amanda went out on the front porch where my mother had gone and starting yelling and swearing. Ava had followed her out and was crying, upset and begging her mother to stop fighting. The officer on the other end of the phone heard the commotion and said they were sending a car right over. My mother filled out a complaint, the cops left, and then Amanda went crazy. She started throwing the girls things into a garbage bag, telling the girls she was taking them–so of course they were both crying and hysterical because they didn’t want to leave. Then Amanda went out in the kitchen with my grams and tried taking Emma’s meds out of the fridge. My grams tried to stop her from taking the wrong meds and Amanda went psycho on my grams, hitting and shoving her. My brother and I were right in the next room and we both jumped up…my brother ran out to the kitchen and literally had to pull Amanda off of my grams, whereas I ran outside and informed the others what was going on. My mother, aunt, and the girls’ father ran back in the house and I had to corral a sobbing, screaming Ava–the birthday girl that hadn’t even had a chance yet to blow out her candles or open her gifts. After that, Amanda tried to get the girls to leave with her, but they refused to go, so she ended up leaving, threatening that she’d be back with “help”.
She never came back. Not that night, nor the next. It wasn’t until yesterday–two days later–when we got the phone call out at my sister’s where we’d gone with the girls to spend some time in the pool that Amanda had gone down to family court and was up to something. I’d already put together the statement for my grams’ custody petition for the girls, so my grams and I left and headed straight back and down to family court. But of course, the judge refused an emergency hearing. We had no choice but to give up the girls to their piece-of-shit mother who’d waited until she knew we were gone to pull her crap and go in the house and pack the girls things–95% of which she hadn’t even bought. But because she’s their “mother” and has custody, we had to give her the girls. Which is total bullshit because she doesn’t want them. She doesn’t give a damn about them. Only herself. And her doing what she did, taking them–she didn’t do it for them or because she thinks they’re better off with her. She knows damn well they’re not. She did them for the simple fact that she wanted to spite us. Because she knows now that no one gives a damn about her–and that its the kids we care about. And because of that, she hit us right where she knew it would hurt the most. The girls. Those two beautiful little souls that deserve far better than her.
As I said earlier, it’s not like we didn’t know this was coming. We knew. She’d been threatening for years to take the kids. She’s used them as leverage for years, holding them over my grams’ head to get what she wants. It doesn’t matter what it is. She wanted a new car and needed my grams’ to co-sign, so she used the girls to get it. She promised my grams that if she co-signed for her, she wouldn’t take the girls from her. Yeah…talk about a piece of shit. Who does that? Seriously, who uses a 9 year old and a 5 year old as leverage for a goddamn car? It’s fucked up. Plain and simple. It’s FUCKED up. And my grams has tried. She’s contacted the fraud department for the SSI I don’t know how many times to inform them that Amanda isn’t using that check for Emma on Emma at all, only to be told that there’s nothing they are going to do because apparently she doesn’t have to account for where the money is going. Talk about fucked up…that right there is prime example of how screwed up this government of ours is. RIGHT THERE. But that’s not even the half of it. We’ve tried calling CPS on Amanda…we’ve talked to the police…we’ve consulted with family law attorneys…and they’ve all told us the same thing. That there’s nothing we can do because even though she’s a shitty mother and she’s essentially left the kids with my grams’ to take care of 24/7 while she goes out and lives her life…she’s their mother and she has custody. And technically, it’s not considered abandonment or neglect because the kids ARE being taken care of…even though she’s NOT the one caring for them…my grams is the one that’s caring for them. It’s like saying “yeah, you’ve raised these kids since they were born, you’ve been there and she hasn’t–but she has the legal right to do whatever she wants with them”. And that’s exactly it. That’s what we keep getting told.
But we’re going to fight. She wanted a war and now, now she’s definitely going to get one. And it’s not like we’re making this shit up. She has NEVER been there. Never! And everyone who really knows her and knows the situation–they know. The doctors, the school, Emmie’s teachers…the neighbors…everyone knows. But the thing is–Amanda is a pathological liar. It’s a real thing and she is. Honestly, I think she’s gotten so good at telling her lies that she actually believes them herself. It’s sick. She’s sick. And while she may be blood–she means absolutely nothing to me. It’s a horrible thing to say, but if it came down to her or the kids, it’d be the girls 100 percent, all the way. And I wouldn’t feel the least bit guilty for the choice. I don’t know who or what she thinks she is, but she’s screwed up. We were all raised in the same house by the same people and I just can’t understand how she could be so selfish–and so spiteful to the people that have been RAISING her children FOR her, without protest and with pleasure. I don’t get it. How can you be that cruel to people who have done so much for you…and moreover–how can you do that to your own children–your own flesh and blood? To take them screaming and crying out of the only home they’ve ever known and bring them to a place (we aren’t even allowed to know where she took them–talk about fucked up) they don’t know and leave them with absolute strangers? How does a mother do that to her own children? I don’t get it.
We tried today…we tried again to get the judge to grant us an emergency hearing (especially when going through Amanda’s room last night for my headphones I came across a bag that smelled like weed, told my mother, and the cops came and confiscated a bowl and grinder–so we had the police report and everything…but he still wouldn’t give us even 5 goddamn minutes. Nope. It was the same judge that I’d dealt with before with that one ex years ago and then again with my bitch-ass aunt when she decided to shove me around. For some reason, the guy doesn’t like me and it’s obvious. But whatever…that’s not his job. And he doesn’t have to like me or my family to hear a petition that involves the welfare of two little girls. It’s his job to protect those who can’t protect themselves…not to take the law into his own hands and play on some little power trip. It’s corruption and it’s bullshit and I know it’s just this fucked up legal system that this country thinks is so great…but it’s wrong, it’s just so wrong. And in this little county, there’s really nothing we can do about it. We tried talking to the police. They just tell us there’s nothing we can do…that we have to contact CPS and go down to family court. And we tried that. In the past and again with everything recently. But CPS says they can’t do anything and family court claims its up to CPS to launch an investigation and it’s a game of passing the buck. No one cares and no one wants to do anything. We can’t request a new judge–that is, we could, but I doubt we’d get one I should say–so we’re stuck, unable to do anything but wait until the court date when the judge is going to hear all the petitions on the 5th. So in the meantime, those girls are stuck with a mother who doesn’t give a damn about them and complete strangers in a strange home for, at the very least, another 5 days.
I can just picture Avie. She’s not good with strangers and god only knows how they’re being treated. She’s probably been crying and begging to come home and it’s just not fair. It’s just not. She and Emma are the ones that are suffering here and it breaks my heart into a million little pieces. And I’m scared to death of what’s going to happen in court on Wednesday. I mean, god forbid that judge plays into her little game and lets her keep those girls…I don’t know what we’ll do. If she keeps custody, we’ll never see those girls again. And just knowing that could happen…it’d break us all. It’d kill my grams…that much I do know. She’s 74 years old and though you wouldn’t know it from looking at her, 57 years of raising kids has taken a toll on her. And those two girls have been her whole world for the past 9 years. It’d kill her…and if anything were to happen to my grams…I can damn well guarantee there won’t be a hole where Amanda can hide to protect her from the backlash of this family’s wrath if anything like that were to ever happen. She started World War III here and I don’t think she has a clue the hell she’s just unleashed. If she thinks we’re just going to sit back and watch her destroy the lives of those two girls…she’s got another thing coming. As we all know…you reap what you sow. And Karma. Is. A. Bitch.
I’m not the praying type, but I really do pray that if there’s a God, he’ll do the right thing and give us back these girls. That everything will go our way on Wednesday and we’ll get them back. I don’t care what it takes. I just want them back. Safe.