And here's my recap from the day in question (June 12th). Bold is mine for reasons pertaining to previous entry:
Yesterday was cleaning day. We're minding our own business, praise and worship music is playing over the stereo system (not of utter importance, but you'll understand why I mention it in a moment), Jason's mopping the living room and I'm vacuuming the back of the house and the kids are playing "go fish" together in the playroom. Life is good, you know? I've been on a major purging of the house in the past couple of weeks and now I'm pretty much performing maintenance on what's left. Regular ole cleaning after I'd gotten a well deserved facial earlier in the morning.
Jason comes in the back and says, "CPS is here."
Say whaaaaa?
I enter the living room not knowing at all what to expect and let the social worker introduce herself. Her name's Carmen and she needs to speak with us because they're launching an investigation. But she needs to speak with us separately. Is that okay?
Uhmmm, I guess?
I go first. Usher the kids back into the playroom and explain that I'll come and get them in a minute. Jason heads outside to light the pit because we're having company over for dinner and we need to get started grilling the ribs we've prepared.
She covers the basics. Asks our names, kids' names, ages, about our jobs, etc. I'm a SAHM, "so you're here all day with the kids?". Yes, for the most part. "Do they play outside?" Uhm, yes, of course they do?
"Well, Mrs. Perkins, that's why I'm here."
"You're here because my kids play outside?"
"Yes."
"Is this a joke?" (I actually said this).
"No, it's not."
She goes through the complaint. The caller says they haven't seen Jason or I outside in over a year. (WHAT? My gardens don't plant, water or weed themselves, first off.) The kids play unsupervised all day long. (I'm sorry, again, WHAT? Yeah, they're in and out of the house all day but I know where they are. I'm out there with them, but sometimes not, though I'm always within earshot, like say in the kitchen cooking?) The youngest is about two years old and they started playing outside about six months ago, making the "baby" 18-months. (I'm sorry, but the twins are now almost four-and-a-half). There's occasionally a pregnant teenager who is outside with them. (I think this is a compliment, but I'm not sure). They don't play in the road, but ride their bikes on the sidewalk. In fact, they were outside at 7:50 this morning. (The horror!)
I'd love to say that I maintained my cool and calmly explained that this caller is on crack. Alas, I was stuck on the fact that child protection services was inside my house and launching an investigation and it seemed that all I could do was cry and keep saying, "I'm so confused". And answer her questions, of course, but logic and reasoning was not on my side at the moment.
Carmen explains that our kids are too young to play outside without constant supervision. That if anything were to happen we could lose custody of our children. Okay, so in the front yard they need to be supervised. Gotcha. "No, Mrs. Perkins, in the back yard as well." (Our back yard is fenced. No pool. Just roses and a swingset.)
Say whaaaa?
Luckily, I managed not to get hysterical and was enough sound mind to realize she probably had to say these things, but I did manage to ask her if my kids were too young, then what would be considered an appropriate age?
Oh, they don't really have one. It depends on each child (makes sense). But six and four-and-a-half are too young (doesn't make sense at all. I mean if it depends on each child, shouldn't it be UP TO THE PARENTS?). Okay. Whatever. I need to get up off this couch before I throw up.
She interviews the kids one by one. I felt completely uncomfortable with this notion but was thinking that if I didn't comply, then what? I could hear the basics of what she was asking (what are your favorite chores, do you play outside, are there any rules you have to follow, etc.) and Hayes was doing wonderfully (making my bed, yes, oh yes! we can't go past the sidewalk and we have to wear our helmets when riding our bikes or scooters) so I started to relax once I realized she wasn't going to be leading them even though the chores part made me freak initially.
She talks to Jason. She asks us if we have any questions. I'm sure I do, but there's no way I could possibly string more than two words together at this point. She gives me her card and tells me I can call her if I need. She leaves.
We sit here for several minutes just shaking our heads and wondering what on earth just happened.
I had the absolute worst night sleep last night that I've had in my entire life. I sobbed on and off the whole night not because I thought there was any validity to the claim (I mean, I'm not the pregnant babysitter) but because mothering is the one area in my life where I'd like to think I'm actually pretty good. And having CPS show up at your door most certainly isn't an affirmation of that.
Today my head was a little more clear, though foggy from lack of sleep and I knew that I had to talk with the social worker again before the weekend. I just couldn't wrap my brain around such a claim. How could this person, whoever they are -- obviously not a direct neighbor as we know all of them and they'd certainly not mistake me for a babysitter -- not be able to describe us? How could it possibly be that they would mistake an almost four-and-a-half-year-old for a two-year-old? And how could they possibly see the kids playing outside "unsupervised" enough times to warrant a call to CPS? Do they not realize that CPS is obligated to launch an investigation? Do they not realize the seriousness of the claim they are making? I mean, it would be one thing if, say, my kids were playing in the road or doing things that could be seen as dangerous. But riding their bikes up and down the sidewalk between our driveway and the neighbor's with helmets on?
So anyway. I called her just to talk. Apologized for taking up her time but that I feel like I didn't process anything she told us yesterday and just had some questions. She was very nice and said she'd been anticipating my call. Apparently I was that obvious yesterday and she mentioned that it was pretty apparent that I'd never been investigated before. It took everything I had to not say, "Never been investigated? Lady, I don't even know anyone who's been investigated by CPS."
On that note, I'm sure she had to think twice when she walked inside. The house is utterly spotless. It's never looked better, actually. The kids are pleasantly playing "go fish" together in the playroom (they could have just as easily been dangling from the Bradford pear branches out front -- their new favorite pastime and thank God they weren't). Jason and I are cleaning. And jamming to Christian rock. The situation couldn't have looked better to CPS than if we'd been in a prayer circle holding hands.
So anyway, onto my conversation with her ... I saw on the DSS website last night that claims are rendered either valid or invalid. Does improper information (the ages of one of the twins -- probably MB because she's smaller than Sam -- and myself being misidentified) warrant the claim automatically invalid? (Because in my head, it should). She says that she can't see any reason this claim won't be filed as invalid. Mentions that she's been doing this for a long time and you can pretty much tell upon entering a house if something is amiss. And if something isn't. And that Jason and I are obviously caring parents who aren't at all guilty of abuse or neglect.
Big sigh of relief. HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF.
So if this claim is found invalid, do we have some sort of permanent record? No. It's not unlike being wrongfully accused of something. There's still a file out there that it happened, but it's not hanging out there waiting to be used if, God forbid, we'd ever be investigated again.
Even bigger sigh.
Is the reporter of this kept updated? And if not, can we request they be? (Because I'll be damned if this is going to happen again. Nosy Nelly Neighboorhood Watchman needs to know the facts of the situation.) They're not normally, but the SW said she'd be happy to call them and inform them.
THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.
I drank about 3 oz of wine and took a four hour nap (Jason was watching the kids) and feel immensely better about the situation. I'll feel even better once I have the letter from the state in my hands stating that the case is closed and findings were invalid.
Never, ever, in my life have I heard of anything like this happening to anyone. I mean, CPS gets called and you're a shitty parent, you know? Perhaps I need not be so quick to judge. And honestly, I'm glad there are people out there that care enough about the welfare of other people's children. But I'd like to imagine that if I were to call CPS on someone, I'd make damned sure I had enough facts in the situation before making the call.
So I spoke with Carmen yesterday who said the CASE IS CLOSED AND FOUND INVALID! We totally knew they would be, but it's entirely different to know it for sure. I feel as if an enormous weight I didn't even realize I was carrying has been lifted off my shoulders.
Of course, I still wish it had never happened, but above all I know there is a lesson in it. There always is ... it's the way life works. And we either choose to learn the lesson or we'll be dealt it again in another form until we do. Sometimes the problem is figuring out what exactly that lesson is. (Or perhaps lessons -- who couldn't do with a double-doozie from time to time?)
One of the lessons I'm certain of is that there really is an existence of evil that needs to be recognized for what it is. This was confirmed for me when I read Charlie's blog entry about similar feelings and how Satan was preying on their weaknesses. Of course, I'm not comparing a simple visit from Child Protection Services and the illness and subsequent death of a precious child, so please don't get me wrong. Just the idea that there is evil all around us and only once we recognize it can we place it where it belongs.
My friend, Chelette, calls this "damning the devil back to hell" and the first time she told me about it I was really, really skeptical. I just couldn't believe she would speak words like, "Satan, go back to hell" outloud. But she swore by it at that moment and explained that he can't hear our thoughts, only our words, so it's important to say it outloud.
And I can't say that I disagree with her. As soon as my mom mentioned to me during the days following the investigation that there's an evil we need to be aware of, I knew exactly what she was saying. And as soon as I recognized what (and who) was at work, preying on the area of my life I am the most proud of, it allowed me to maintain a calm and a perspective about the situation that I certainly didn't feel beforehand.
This calm (and trust in God) also allowed me to go several weeks without calling Carmen. And when I spoke with her yesterday, she'd only closed the case at the end of last week. So calling before that would have only made me sick with worry that they were continuing to investigate.
But now ... case closed. Let's just hope the lesson(s) is learned.
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