Radio Silence

Silence can be deafening. You know when you're in a really quiet space and you think your ears hurt from the lack of noise but you aren't sure. Similar to the calm before the storm where you notice everything is smooth but you know that all Hell may break loose. That's kind of how I feel about the lack of information and or update on the hotline investigating. I spoke to the case worker today and asked if she heard anything. Her response rubbed me the wrong way.

"No I haven't heard anything. I hope we hear something soon it will be three weeks of missed visits."

She also didn't comment when I told her one kid didn't notice a lack of Real Mom, one kid was quite clear that she was glad that visits stopped, one asked (the one was was hurt), and one who hasn't talked about it at all. I don't think she wanted my take on the situation.

Here is why the response bothered me: I don't think she's taking it seriously. I really get the feeling that she thinks this was no big deal and blown out of proportion. And now this case that she thought was going to move toward return home just got prolonged.

So as we wait in radio silence for a signal of some sort we have more calm and more fun. But that storm is coming and I feel the energy surrounding 3 weeks of no visits (I believe the longest break since they came in care). I ache in my heart like a bum knee would in rain. And I know someone is going to pay for the silence. Someone is going to be the target for fearful and angry kids. And it will be me. Me the safe Mom. Me the consistent Mom. Me the patient (mostly) Mom. I just hope that when this is all over and done with (and child services and the legal people realize this woman isn't going to get her act together no matter how many pep talks and support services and time they give her) I get to be THE MOM.