Not that anyone is asking

Ruth n Jersey said:
What a sweet little boy. The injustice in all this is sickening and Collin is the one suffering. I hope you have a wonderful visit with him and wish you many more great times together.
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Thank you, Ruth. I'm thrilled that his mom is willing to bring him over to visit, and especially that she's doing it for his sake. That's what she said and I believe her. IMO that indicates she's making progress, putting her child first, bettering herself.
 
Collin got here at about noon. He told his mom goodbye, she said "I love you" and he said it back and and took my hand and headed toward my apartment.

That was all new. This was the first time he didn't grab my pant-leg and bury his face in it to stifle his sobs, or look up at me with pleading eyes, the first time I heard him say "I love you" to his mom.

I make changes in my apartment when I know Collin is coming to visit. Some are small, like moving his toybox to another spot, some more drastic, like taking down the big tent that surrounded his bed. I do this with the idea that, bit by bit, it will lessen the familiarity, break attachments, maybe help him realize that this is not his only home but rather a second home; Uncle Frank's home. This time I moved the area rug from the living room to the dining nook, and for the first time he noticed a change, that something was different. He said "Wow!" and then casually handed me his jacket and asked for crayons and a colorbook.

It was like he'd been dropped off at school. Part of me was glad for the strides he seems to have made.

Later in the day I thought it'd be fun to get his tent out of the closet and set it up in the living room. That was a terrible mistake. That was me trying to retrieve old times, old feelings. Collin wanted absolutely no part of that tent. Obviously the old times and old feelings are there for him, inside. He's trying to forget them.
 

Murrmurr said:
Collin got here at about noon. He told his mom goodbye, she said "I love you" and he said it back and and took my hand and headed toward my apartment.

That was all new. This was the first time he didn't grab my pant-leg and bury his face in it to stifle his sobs, or look up at me with pleading eyes, the first time I heard him say "I love you" to his mom.

I make changes in my apartment when I know Collin is coming to visit. Some are small, like moving his toybox to another spot, some more drastic, like taking down the big tent that surrounded his bed. I do this with the idea that, bit by bit, it will lessen the familiarity, break attachments, maybe help him realize that this is not his only home but rather a second home; Uncle Frank's home. This time I moved the area rug from the living room to the dining nook, and for the first time he noticed a change, that something was different. He said "Wow!" and then casually handed me his jacket and asked for crayons and a colorbook.

It was like he'd been dropped off at school. Part of me was glad for the strides he seems to have made.

Later in the day I thought it'd be fun to get his tent out of the closet and set it up in the living room. That was a terrible mistake. That was me trying to retrieve old times, old feelings. Collin wanted absolutely no part of that tent. Obviously the old times and old feelings are there for him, inside. He's trying to forget them.
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He is starting to adjust to his new life which is great!
 
A few visits ago I told Collin he could take his favorite stuffed rabbit home with him if he wanted to and he gave me a strange look – kind of sad and angry at the same time – and shoved it under my bed really hard and as far as he could. And there are other examples of him refusing to have anything to do with other “old” favorites, sometimes getting very emotional about it. It took me a while but I think I figured it out. I think this is his way of sort of burying the past. These things are a reminder of a gentler, care-free life. He’s trying to come to terms with his new reality. And I wonder how long before he decides it’s best to stop visiting at all. :(
 
Murrmurr said:
A few visits ago I told Collin he could take his favorite stuffed rabbit home with him if he wanted to and he gave me a strange look – kind of sad and angry at the same time – and shoved it under my bed really hard and as far as he could. And there are other examples of him refusing to have anything to do with other “old” favorites, sometimes getting very emotional about it. It took me a while but I think I figured it out. I think this is his way of sort of burying the past. These things are a reminder of a gentler, care-free life. He’s trying to come to terms with his new reality. And I wonder how long before he decides it’s best to stop visiting at all. :(
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I doubt he will decide that
 
Shalimar said:
Your situation is very stressful and uncertain, this is a good place to be vulnerable enough to take a load off, air your concerns, and receive positive feedback from your online friends. We want the best for you both. 🤗
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Thanks, Shalimar.

When the maternity nurse handed me my first newborn baby the thought "Don't mess this kid up" ran through my head over and over. I had the same thought when 3 1/2 WEEK old Collin was handed to me like he was something I ordered off of Amazon. But life messes kids up. It's inevitable. You just have to teach them to make good choices, and learn from their mistakes. If not for 18 or more, I wish I'd have had him for a few more years. Now I can only hope he keeps spending time here for at least that long.
 
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Maud

When my kids were little it was easy to keep girlfriends and dating a secret, especially when the babysitters were my brother and his wife; the kids could spend the night there, have a sleepover with their cousins. When they were old enough to babysit themselves they were 15, 14, and 12, Grant, Liam, Maud, respectively, and one evening I knew dating wasn’t a secret anymore when Maud asked “So, you gettin’ all floss to go see Amy or whoever?” and rolled her eyes. (floss might have been flossed, I don’t remember, but it had nothing to do with teeth.)

I said “You’re correct, it’s Amy, and yes, I’m taking her to dinner this evening” and Maud rolled her eyes again, gave out a short, disgusted sigh and left the room waving her hand above her head weirdly, kind of like how Queen Victoria waved to her subjects from the palace balcony. I have no idea what that meant but I knew it wasn’t “awesome, you deserve an evening out, have a good time” and I was glad I hadn’t corrected her grammar.

Soon after that, I started introducing some of the women I dated, the ones I liked well enough to invite to the house for dinner so I could see how they interacted with my kids. Concurrently, Maud, 13 by then, entered an intense (by intense I mean insane) emo phase. None of these women stood a chance.

Except for Janae, who, right off the bat, told Maud, 15-years-old by then, that she loved her dress (this horrible black thing she picked up at a thrift store) and the wedged shoes and Letterman’s sweater that didn’t go with it. “You have a very unique sense of style” Janae said. Well, she didn’t lie. I don’t even think Madonna would have put an outfit like that together.

Janae serenely held her own all through dinner, and after a while Maud went a little bit easy on her. She threw a few verbal jabs but Janae disarmed them, and Maud would chuckle nervously every time. But the biggest shock came when Maud suggested they wash the dishes together. Relatively speaking, it was a very nice evening overall. Later Janae and I were having some wine out on the patio and when I saw some bedroom lights go out I told her I wanted to go check on the kids real quick. I checked on Grant, then Liam, and then Maud, and then I ran to my phone and dialed 911. Maud had swallowed a bottle of Ibuprophen.

She yelled at me to go home a number of times, but I stayed at her bedside all that night, holding and kissing her hands. Next day she still didn’t want to talk about it, still kept telling me to go home, and I still kept telling her I loved her more deeply than I’d ever loved anyone, because it was true. I finally left her and after 3 more days in the hospital they let me pick Maud up and bring her home. I spoke to her psychologist and her social worker and they gave us their cards and said call whenever we wanted to talk to them, and Maud chuckled.

A few weeks later Janae and I broke up.

The next 3 years were hell. And heaven. Maud was either slamming a door in my face or snuggling up next to me on the couch to get cuddles. She made me a pancake and sausage breakfast every Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day and on my birthday. When I’d hear her cry in her room, she let me come in and hold her and talk to her a good 60% of the time. (Once she was crying because she couldn’t get her black hair to take the purple dye). The other 40% she told me she hated me and to go away and leave her alone and never talk to her again. She often told me I just didn’t understand her at all, and she was absolutely right.

When Maud turned 18 and graduated from high school, I gave her the paperwork and debit card connected to her college account. She bought a car and went shopping for clothes. (At least they weren't used and they weren’t black.) Three months later, she enlisted in the navy. She signed up for 3 years. The day she left for Port Hueneme she hugged me for a very long time and we cried. She was eventually stationed all the way over at Virginia Beach, and saw Spain, Portugal, and other parts of the world. She became a computer technician, primarily keeping her ship’s hovercraft running properly. She saved almost all her money, deposited it into her college account, which still had 20,000 of the original dollars in it when she left.

When she came home I hadn’t seen her for about 2 years. The first thing she did was jump up and throw her legs around my waist and hug me like she did when she was little. The second thing she did was introduce her husband. A guy she met in the navy. He was divorced and had a 5-year-old daughter who lived in the Los Angeles area. They were shopping for a house down there, so whatever-his-name could live close to his daughter. I hated that guy. Right off, I hated him. But I had Maud’s welcome-home roast in the oven and they could smell it, so I invited the chuck-head to stay and have dinner with me and my little girl.

The daughter-stealing son-of-a-gun was polite, at least. Kind of quiet. Kind of a good-looking kid, too. Kid…humf, 5 years older than her. This guy was no kid. Maud was a kid. Maud was a child! Oh, I threw a few verbal jabs at him but he managed to disarmed them, and Maud would laugh every time. That night I showed them to their room – humf, their room. It was Maud’s room, with a twin bed. I smirked to myself when I thought about that. Then I thought again.

Four days later, Maud and her husband left for L.A. and a new life together. Over the next few years they gave me 2 beautiful granddaughters, and, of course, a sweet and very lovely step-granddaughter was part of the deal. And Maud’s oldest daughter, Lily, is now the mother of my 3rd great-grandchild, the pretty little girl whose photos I posted here.

They came to visit me not too long ago, and when I had Maud alone I told her I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time because I know now that she loves me.

“Daddy, I’ve always loved you.”

That night, the night Maud tried to kill herself? It had nothing to do with Janae and nothing to do with me. It was because of a boy. And if I ever find that little SOB I’m gonna nail his tender bits to a remotely located post.
 
Murrmurr said:
Maud

When my kids were little it was easy to keep girlfriends and dating a secret, especially when the babysitters were my brother and his wife; the kids could spend the night there, have a sleepover with their cousins. When they were old enough to babysit themselves they were 15, 14, and 12, Grant, Liam, Maud, respectively, and one evening I knew dating wasn’t a secret anymore when Maud asked “So, you gettin’ all floss to go see Amy or whoever?” and rolled her eyes. (floss might have been flossed, I don’t remember, but it had nothing to do with teeth.)

I said “You’re correct, it’s Amy, and yes, I’m taking her to dinner this evening” and Maud rolled her eyes again, gave out a short, disgusted sigh and left the room waving her hand above her head weirdly, kind of like how Queen Victoria waved to her subjects from the palace balcony. I have no idea what that meant but I knew it wasn’t “awesome, you deserve an evening out, have a good time” and I was glad I hadn’t corrected her grammar.

Soon after that, I started introducing some of the women I dated, the ones I liked well enough to invite to the house for dinner so I could see how they interacted with my kids. Concurrently, Maud, 13 by then, entered an intense (by intense I mean insane) emo phase. None of these women stood a chance.

Except for Janae, who, right off the bat, told Maud, 15-years-old by then, that she loved her dress (this horrible black thing she picked up at a thrift store) and the wedged shoes and Letterman’s sweater that didn’t go with it. “You have a very unique sense of style” Janae said. Well, she didn’t lie. I don’t even think Madonna would have put an outfit like that together.

Janae serenely held her own all through dinner, and after a while Maud went a little bit easy on her. She threw a few verbal jabs but Janae disarmed them, and Maud would chuckle nervously every time. But the biggest shock came when Maud suggested they wash the dishes together. Relatively speaking, it was a very nice evening overall. Later Janae and I were having some wine out on the patio and when I saw some bedroom lights go out I told her I wanted to go check on the kids real quick. I checked on Grant, then Liam, and then Maud, and then I ran to my phone and dialed 911. Maud had swallowed a bottle of Ibuprophen.

She yelled at me to go home a number of times, but I stayed at her bedside all that night, holding and kissing her hands. Next day she still didn’t want to talk about it, still kept telling me to go home, and I still kept telling her I loved her more deeply than I’d ever loved anyone, because it was true. I finally left her and after 3 more days in the hospital they let me pick Maud up and bring her home. I spoke to her psychologist and her social worker and they gave us their cards and said call whenever we wanted to talk to them, and Maud chuckled.

A few weeks later Janae and I broke up.

The next 3 years were hell. And heaven. Maud was either slamming a door in my face or snuggling up next to me on the couch to get cuddles. She made me a pancake and sausage breakfast every Father’s Day, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day and on my birthday. When I’d hear her cry in her room, she let me come in and hold her and talk to her a good 60% of the time. (Once she was crying because she couldn’t get her black hair to take the purple dye). The other 40% she told me she hated me and to go away and leave her alone and never talk to her again. She often told me I just didn’t understand her at all, and she was absolutely right.

When Maud turned 18 and graduated from high school, I gave her the paperwork and debit card connected to her college account. She bought a car and went shopping for clothes. (At least they weren't used and they weren’t black.) Three months later, she enlisted in the navy. She signed up for 3 years. The day she left for Port Hueneme she hugged me for a very long time and we cried. She was eventually stationed all the way over at Virginia Beach, and saw Spain, Portugal, and other parts of the world. She became a computer technician, primarily keeping her ship’s hovercraft running properly. She saved almost all her money, deposited it into her college account, which still had 20,000 of the original dollars in it when she left.

When she came home I hadn’t seen her for about 2 years. The first thing she did was jump up and throw her legs around my waist and hug me like she did when she was little. The second thing she did was introduce her husband. A guy she met in the navy. He was divorced and had a 5-year-old daughter who lived in the Los Angeles area. They were shopping for a house down there, so whatever-his-name could live close to his daughter. I hated that guy. Right off, I hated him. But I had Maud’s welcome-home roast in the oven and they could smell it, so I invited the chuck-head to stay and have dinner with me and my little girl.

The daughter-stealing son-of-a-gun was polite, at least. Kind of quiet. Kind of a good-looking kid, too. Kid…humf, 5 years older than her. This guy was no kid. Maud was a kid. Maud was a child! Oh, I threw a few verbal jabs at him but he managed to disarmed them, and Maud would laugh every time. That night I showed them to their room – humf, their room. It was Maud’s room, with a twin bed. I smirked to myself when I thought about that. Then I thought again.

Four days later, Maud and her husband left for L.A. and a new life together. Over the next few years they gave me 2 beautiful granddaughters, and, of course, a sweet and very lovely step-granddaughter was part of the deal. And Maud’s oldest daughter, Lily, is now the mother of my 3rd great-grandchild, the pretty little girl whose photos I posted here.

They came to visit me not too long ago, and when I had Maud alone I told her I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time because I know now that she loves me.

“Daddy, I’ve always loved you.”

That night, the night Maud tried to kill herself? It had nothing to do with Janae and nothing to do with me. It was because of a boy. And if I ever find that little SOB I’m gonna nail his tender bits to a remotely located post.
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I doubt it was the much to do with the specific boy as it was any teenaged girls emotional makeup. My niece wore black as well as a teenager, but my brother and SIL wouldn’t listen. She just going through a phrase, they said. She also attempted suicide. They sent her away, to an out of state psyche hospital, God forgive their friends find out.

My daughter moved in with a fellow when she turned 18 and most of her life asked me “how could I let her do that.” I replied “how could I stop you?“ Just wait and see I said frequently. Well, sadly, she saw, that teenagers cannot be stopped from doing what they do. Now she has adopted her granddaughter.

I am glad your daughter is fine and your relationship is great. It’s the same with my niece and my daughter. Unfortunately, children and adults must just get through what they need to get through.
 
@Murrmurr I had a thought about your situation and have no ideal if it will be successful or not. As the twins grow older and Collin continues to see you, there might be a problem that arises. The twins might become jealous of Collin’s special grandpa and that might put pressure on the family for the visits to end.

This is just a thought, as I’ve never very been in your situation. Have you considered offering to babysit the twins as well? Is that even possible? Would you be able to “handle” all three together for a short period of time? Plus if the children had to be removed again, the agency would try to place all of them together. Would you even want all three?

Since you are concerned about how Collin is treated by the twins, this would let you observe, interact, and possibly suggest strategies to mom as your relationship grows stronger and stronger.

Just a thought.
 
Aneeda72 said:
@Murrmurr I had a thought about your situation and have no ideal if it will be successful or not. As the twins grow older and Collin continues to see you, there might be a problem that arises. The twins might become jealous of Collin’s special grandpa and that might put pressure on the family for the visits to end.

This is just a thought, as I’ve never very been in your situation. Have you considered offering to babysit the twins as well? Is that even possible? Would you be able to “handle” all three together for a short period of time? Plus if the children had to be removed again, the agency would try to place all of them together. Would you even want all three?

Since you are concerned about how Collin is treated by the twins, this would let you observe, interact, and possibly suggest strategies to mom as your relationship grows stronger and stronger.

Just a thought.
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Thanks, Aneeda
I have thought about that...all of it. No, I couldn't handle all 3 if they were to need placement again, and I think that could happen - Tara's mom/Collin's grandmother told me that the father brought a 12pk of beer with them on Christmas Eve. There is thisr issue; they now live in a different county, so I think CPS would look at that community first. If they can't find someone to take all 3 in there, they MIGHT call me, but I think only after they exhaust their resources.

When Tara brings Collin over and when she drops him off, I make a point of taking a few minutes so say hello to the twins. They smile and say Hi. When Collin caught sight of me at his gramma's on Christmas Eve, I did go inside for a while to pick up and hug each twin and say Merry Christmas.

I could "sit" all 3 of them here if Michelle helps. Alone, I doubt it..maybe for an hour or two tho. The twins are pretty wild, and I suspect Collin is as wild when all 3 are together. But Michelle would be happy to babysit them with me. I'll give this some thought, talk to Michelle, and maybe offer to babysit sometime.
 
Aneeda72 said:
I doubt it was the much to do with the specific boy as it was any teenaged girls emotional makeup. My niece wore black as well as a teenager, but my brother and SIL wouldn’t listen. She just going through a phrase, they said. She also attempted suicide. They sent her away, to an out of state psyche hospital, God forgive their friends find out.

My daughter moved in with a fellow when she turned 18 and most of her life asked me “how could I let her do that.” I replied “how could I stop you?“ Just wait and see I said frequently. Well, sadly, she saw, that teenagers cannot be stopped from doing what they do. Now she has adopted her granddaughter.

I am glad your daughter is fine and your relationship is great. It’s the same with my niece and my daughter. Unfortunately, children and adults must just get through what they need to get through.
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It was a rough period. I pretty much let Maud do her thing but worried every second, and I still had rules, curfew and clean rooms and such. Her mother died when she was young so I wondered if that was it, then I met her friends. We were close, then suddenly not, then close off-and-on, she hated me, she loved me, gave Dad the silent treatment, came crying to Daddy. All that could happen in one day...one hour! It was exhausting.
 
One thing Maud never did was argue with me. She talked, she'd try to reason with me, but we never argued. I think that was unique at the time. Oh, jeez, I remember my heart sinking to my stomach when she cut off her gorgeous long hair. But after the shock wore off, it actually looked pretty cute.
 
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