If you've been following what's been going on with me lately, you know I had surgery two days ago to have an implant put into my torso that will help my digestion issues. It has already helped, and I'm thankful for the surgery and the technology that allowed me to have the Enterra implant.
Moving forward. We keep a key in a lock box outside our house with a special code so Mitchell can get into the house when I'm either incapacatated because of my health or gone at a doctor's appointment. Unfortunately, I have multiple health issues that keep me from being there every day to let him in the house, and if I'm off in another part of the house stuck in the bathroom, I don't feel comfortable leaving the front door unlocked, hence the lock box.
Today, I was exhausted. I was up all night last night and the night before in pain because I don't like to take pain meds at night. I wanted a nap this afternoon, so I needed to take the key outside to put it in the box so he could get inside in case I was still asleep when he got home.
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| Holy Underwear, Batman! I wore mine outside to put the key in the box. |
I was in bed when he got home. He asked to go to watch TV in our den. I said sure.
Ten or so minutes later, there came an insistent knock at the door. I was scared because of the guy who pulled the gun on me last week. I slowly and carefully got out of bed and hollered for Mitch not to go get the door because I didn't know who it was. The knock kept getting louder and more insistent. I kept hollering to hold on that I was coming. I was trying to get a pair of shorts on but it was hurting because of my incisions.
I finally got a pair of low-slung shorts on. I hobbled to the front door and saw three men in what looked like Sheriff's Deputy uniforms. I cracked open the door and asked them for ID. They wanted to know why. I told them that I had been mugged down the street the week before and I was wary of people I didn't know. They said they were Sheriff's Deputies. I said that was all well and good, but I needed to see ID. They finally relented and showed me some, so I opened the door wider. They said they were in the nieghborhood responding to a call.
Immediately, I thought that meant someone else had been attacked and they were checking on people. I told them there was a problem, obviously, because I'd been attacked too last week. This conversation went on in this vein for roughly five more minutes until they finally came out with why they were there.
Someone had filed a complaint against me with the Child Welfare office. I'm not joking. For what, you ask? For going outside in my T-shirt and panties to put the key in the box. In someone's mind, this made me a bad mother. So the deputies had to check on me and my children. The ID'd me. They checked on my one child who was at my house and told me they'd need me to get my other two children back from my mother's house and to my house so they could see they were ok as well. I told them that wasn't possible because they were in Austin with my mother. But if they wanted to get in their police car and carry their happy little butts to Austin they could go check on 'em.
I was so angry. I wear less when I go to the pool in the summer. I can't believe that person. It had to be a woman. What man would complain about a woman being outside in her underwear? I called my neighbor because she jogs in her jogging bra and shorts. I felt like she needed to be warned.
It's the weekend. I'm going to think on it a couple of days and talk it over with my husband and fellow mommy friends and think about what I want to do. I think I want to take some time to calm down and call the child welfare office and ask what their policy is. I need to know why walking outside of my own house onto my own front porch in my own clothes is so bothersome to them that they believe it would be harmful to my children. I need people's thoughts on this. How is one linked to the other? How is me walking outside in a T-shirt and panties linked to child abuse? I'm just shocked. Please share what you think.
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