And so began my first bout with being Niece's mommy.
The first night she spent under my roof as my ward was a Saturday night. I had researched routines for a four year old, had acquired a toddler bed, some toys, some childproofing stuff, and a carseat. I had arranged daycare and her room was all ready. One part of me felt like a dream was coming true.
Niece's room was the perfect size for her. We lived in an old Victorian apartment building that was built about 15 years after the end of the Civil War. In its heyday, it had been a beautiful building. In many ways, it still was, although it had plainly been through a lot of neglect. Niece's bedroom was all white, with berber carpet, and three little windows that had beautiful stained glass at the top of them. It wasn't gorgeous, but it was bright and sunshiney, and it was solely hers.
I already had her bedtime routine figured out, since bedtime had been a major block for my sister. We started our routine at 7pm with her bath. After her bath and after I had dried her hair with the blow drier and lotioned her up, then it was time for her jammies and whatnot. We did 2 puzzles, 2 stories, then lights out and 2 songs. We both loved bedtime.
Morning came with a small child in my face letting me know she was hungry. At an ungodly hour. I was so tired that morning, that when we met my family for breakfast at the truck stop, I didn't even realize that I was wearing my bedroom slippers. Instant motherhood hit me like a freight train -- welcome to the rest of your life.
The loss of freedom, the need to watch this child every second. It was overwhelming.
Niece, however, took to it like a duck to water. Her mother called regularly the first week. Then after that, it was up to me to call her mom. Niece did not ask about her Mommy. She now called me Mommy. And every time she did so, my heart warmed. I loved taking care of her at first.
My family was somewhat supportive to begin with. Sister was willing to watch Niece whenever I asked her to. This helped me deal with it and helped Niece keep some kind of a bond with her mother. I knew Niece wouldn't be with me forever.
Daycare was incredibly expensive. Sister helped for a while, but then would spend her money on other things. Did you know the state gives welfare moms about $262 per child per month? And that's your income. I guess giving even half of that to help me raise her child for her wasn't something she liked doing. Because she gave me less and less assistance.
I became more and more depressed, even though I enjoyed parenting Niece a lot. But I was all alone. I had virtually no friends. When I paid Sister's friends to babysit, they would call Sister and talk smack about me behind my back, and then they'd do the same thing to Sister. Sister was less willing to watch Niece. I did the best I could, but it was eventually Niece and I against the world. Enter Mary Kay as a way to make more money for Niece and I. Sister watched Niece during my MK events. I was doing well, but it was too much.
Eventually, Sister communicated to me that she had a problem with watching Niece so much.
"You took her, but I'm still taking care of her all the time."
I was floored. Anyone can understand why.
Sister finally decided that she was tired of giving me money for daycare, tired of watching her daughter so much, and that she was ready to be a parent again. I couldn't argue or do anything to change it. We only had a gentleman's agreement and it wasn't enforceable.
And I was tired, to admit my side of the street. I was tired of being in the middle, being unappreciated and alienated. So I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I gave Niece back to Sister. This happened in about May 2004.
I started noticing problems right away. For one thing, Niece kept asking me if she could come and live with me again. That was so heartwrenching. Then I noticed that she was hardly ever being dressed or taken out of the house. Mom and Dad were still screaming at her, and Sister wasn't doing much to stop it. Corporal punishment was being applied liberally. And then the dark circles that had finally gone away came back. Niece lost weight. All the potty training and behavior stuff we had worked on disappeared. The house was still filthy and nothing else had changed either, except to get worse.
By July, I knew what I had to do. La Buddha, an old friend of mine, helped me to finally call CPS and report my family. I think this happened on a Monday. It was gut wrenching. After the call, which lasted about 45 minutes, I went to lunch and cried in the car.
That Friday, CPS paid a surprise visit to my family.
I knew it was happening only because my sister called me at work and screamed, "DID YOU CALL CPS ON ME?"
"Yes. I had to! I did it for you and for Niece!"
"YOU F*CKING B*TCH!" I heard my mom in the background scream, "That f*cking wh*re!"
They hung up and then I got a call from the CPS intake worker who had done the visit. As it turned out, she had arrived at the house, and hadn't gotten out of her car yet when she saw Niece, clothed in only a pull-up, come out the front door and play outside. And it was apparent that no one knew that Niece was outside. The intake worker watched Niece happily playing, unsupervised, for about 20 minutes.
Then she saw my mother come out of the house and yell at Niece, order her into the house. Niece failed to comply, which resulted in Mom roughly grabbing her by the arm and carrying her by the arm into the house. You know what way I mean - the way that looks painful to say the least.
It was then that the intake worker got out of her car and came up to the front door of the house. Sister came up to the door and barred CPS from entering without a warrant. That's when Sister called me.
The intake worker went back to her car and called the cops. They showed up and explained to Sister that they had been told that a minor child could be endangered and therefore could do this the easy way or the hard way. The cops and the IW entered the house.
Shortly thereafter, the IW called me and said that she wanted to remove Niece right then but the cops were reluctant. She wanted to know if my sister was on any drugs. I knew Sister had been smoking pot not that long ago and could have said yes, but chose not to carry it that far.
My family was, of course, upset with me, and that hurt. Ex was with me at the time; we had just started dating exclusively. He assured me that I'd done the right thing, and took care of me that night and that weekend, as I was in a daze and scared sh*tless that I'd never see Niece again. You can see why I fell head over heels for this man.
The family calmed down and I was allowed to come and see Niece. I was even allowed to take her to the zoo and things like that.
Nebraska CPS really worked with my sister to teach her about disciplining her child constructively, to help her find a place to live, to help evaluate whether the medications she was on were right for her, to do a psychiatric evaluation of her, etc. They paid for her to go to the Boys Town Parenting Class. They came over and helped her clean the bloody house. They worked with Niece. They worked on budgeting with her; Nebraska CPS bent over backwards to try and keep that child in the home.
But things just weren't working out. My dad was hostile, he was drinking, he was still being left to do childcare at night. Sperm Donor was still being his usual self. The house was still getting filthier. So, in August 2004, Nebraska CPS removed my niece from the home. I was in Minneapolis visiting my best friend at the time.
I found out because I checked my email that weekend and found a nastygram from my sister letting me know that, thanks to me, her child was now in the hands of CPS. Of course, I knew it wasn't my fault. But I also knew in that moment that I needed to go home and get that child and bring her home to live with me. I called the intake worker from my friend's kitchen and volunteered.
Ex wasn't happy about that. The day that I called the IW was a Sunday; Niece came to live with me that Wednesday. We were so happy to be together again, but she was a changed kid.
Gone was the happily obedient child that I knew. In her place was a rebellious 4 year old who was all kinds of angry.
I didn't know how to deal with this child. But Ex did, and he took over. Ex and I really didn't have any problems prior to Niece's re-advent into my life. But we sure as heck did now. He didn't want her. It was apparent. I thought I could change his mind. I was stupid.
Eventually, Ex had Niece behaving alright. She was reined in. Life kept moving along. We found out about Ex's baby sometime in September or October. I found out he was cheating with his babymomma on December 1. We broke up. Then we got back together. You know the rest.
Niece occasionally had meltdowns. She would hit, kick, scream, punch, and spit at me until she could do no more. Then she would cry and calm down and life would be ok for a while…until the next outburst. Almost all of her My Little Pony toys went to the Goodwill during this time, because the rule was that anything thrown at me went to the Goodwill. Many children benefited from Niece's outburts.
Ex and I broke up and got back together for the last time in, I think, June 2005. While we were apart, I decided to move out of the ghetto. That's how Niece and I ended up in my current apartment in West O. Ex came back and started raising h*ll with me about letting Niece go. He tapped into all my insecurities and some logic, and I eventually agreed to let her go. That took place on November 1, 2005.
And since then, Niece has been in foster care. She's been in two different foster homes. One of them was with a single woman that I am still friends with. The other one is her current home, with a couple who has two older children. I have a feeling they do it for the money, not the kids. Yet Niece hasn't been mistreated, so I can't say that they are bad people.
All the while, Nebraska CPS has worked with my sister to get her ready to parent her own daughter. She can do things with constant coaching and while someone is watching her. But without that, Sister doesn't do any parenting of Niece. Niece rides roughshod over her.
Well, that brings us up to today, folks. This really is the proverbial long story.
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