The War II: The Stink of Justice

Somehow my last post came off as being about spanking. It was supposed to be about a parents right to raise their child as they see fit. I'll come back to the discipline thing, because I think there is stuff to explore, but I want to finish this up.

So, I got arrested because my kid lied about me closed fist punching him and throwing him into a desk to the point of breakage. Pure fiction. But, I can ALMOST tolerate that, because I do think there are children out there that need protecting, and maybe if the cop errs on the side of caution... No, it sucks. Clearly if we are going to ask police to enforce family, they need to be trained to better discern a situation. I called 911 on an out of control child in a man's body and I ended up in jail. The kid is 6 feet tall and about 225. The police report listed him as 5'8" and 150 lbs. They also gave me an extra inch of height and put nearly an extra 50 pounds on me. They made it look like Rubeus Hagrid went all WWE on Frodo Baggins. We are a little more evenly matched than that.

So, excusing the arrest as best I can, I'm thinking this will all go away as the truth comes out. Clearly if there is one quality I possess in spades,it's naivety.

So that scene in Law and Order where you and your lawyer sit down with the DA and hash this all out. Pure fiction. The DA actually NEVER talked to me, from start to finish. He never even talked to my wife until months later when he realized she was going to be his number one witness, but she was actually on my side.

In the interim I am notified by the county sheriff that my name is entered into a child abuser's database. This is without conviction, or even an arraignment. I have yet to learn how to make this go away.

So day 1 of court (which if not for my Father-in-law bailing me out would have let me rot in a group cell for a week) what happens is the judge gives you the indicated sentence. This is what they will give you if you plead guilty right there. They also imply that if you fight on, the punishment will be harsher. They really want you to plead guilty and get out so they can slog through the stacks of DUIs and parole violations they deal with every day. I plead not guilty and ask for a public defender. I fill out forms 'till my hand hurts and go home.

2 weeks later, I appear and go through this exact thing all again, because no public defender has my file.

2 weeks later, I appear and simply postpone my case as my Public Defender JUST GOT MY FILE THAT MORNING! (Her name is Alison, and I do appreciate her efforts) She sends out an investigator to , uh, investigate. I drop off my step son's file, which includes behavioral problems dating back to third grade, multiple suspensions, CPS reports that pre-date my involvemnet, an expulsion hearing, half his lifetime of serious counseling, and not one but two arrest reports. It also includes signed statements from his mom, grandparents, pastor and a close family friend spelling out the situation that he an emotionally disturbed child, and I am not of the character to beat him. I literally have 25 people ready to testify to my character.

The DA ignores all this and presses on. The truth is, our DA's office wants to appear tough on crime, so the have a policy that they do not drop charges. Common sense be dammed. My lawyer AND her supervisor contact the DA's office to encourage them to see the light. No go.

I make a what I think is a critical mistake. I sign a form that allows me not to appear in court. I miss an appearance. The DA digs in his heels, and I will always wonder if I could have talked some sense into him in person.

We go to court again. My lawyer is involved in a jury trial, so we postpone. This is my 5th court date. We declare trial readiness. I'm going to a jury trial. The DA claims he never got the discovery packet, so I make another copy of the stack and drop it off. Alison thinks we are going to cream him, but of course can't guaranty that. This is all taking a serious toll on my mental health.

6th court date. The DA files for an extension. This is automatically granted. I learn he can do this several more times.

The DA calls my wife, to prep his witness. She gives him an ear full and reminds him the kid no longer resides in California. I don't know how they can have a trial at all, because i have a right to confront my accuser.

7th court date. I learn the most stunning fact of the whole ordeal. I can fight this thing and WIN. Not Guilty! Acquitted! and STILL have to pay up to 1000 dollars in court fees for use of the system. I realize that I would need real money to get real justice, and I don't have it. Spending 5 grand on a lawyer gets me nothing, and need a 10+ grand lawyer to get the DA to take notice. I need to be ready to spend a grand on court fees. I need to ask all my witnesses to be ready to go at a moments notice, and be on stand by for maybe ANOTHER month. My mind is reeling. I can't take it anymore.

The DA gets another extension over my lawyer's protests. And finally, he makes his move. I can plead guilty to disturbing the peace, an infraction (kinda like a ticket), and pay 100 dollars and this is all over. I stall for 10 minutes so that I don't appear too desperate, and sell my soul for the sake of my family and friends, and fiscal responsibility.

This whole thing from bail, to putting the kid on a plane to Texas, to parking and copying fees, buying a new dress shirt for court, Dry cleaning, and etc. takes us just north of 2200 dollars. Thank God for my in-laws who helped us out with the vast majority of this.

I spell all this out so you readers can know what to expect if the bad times come upon you. Be on your guard. I wonder how an average person can afford justice, and I fear it will only get worse. I'm still wondering what to do to work this all out for good. If you have any ideas, please let me know, either here, or write to platypibri at gmail dot com.

Up next, I intend to dwell in depth at the blissful heaven that is my little Katiebug.

fin.
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And now for a diaper change....

Brian
muse.platypionline.com

The War, Part I: The Nanny Government.

So, when I left off, we had a huge, family destroying blow up. I own part of that, I know. But the kid really did seem hell bent on destroying our relationship, and, he did exactly that. Confession is good for the soul, and all that.

But now, we get to why I am really putting this all out there. I have seen the ÜberNanny, and I don't like it. I dunno, if really had thrown the boy through my desk, I suppose someone should have stepped in. I didn't do that, however. And really, what business does the state have peeking over my shoulder as I parent? If my wife and I agree that I didn't step over the line, shouldn't they just stay the hell out of our business?

I took a state-ran parenting class a few years back. One of many things I have done over the years to try to make my influence over the children in my care a positive one. And I got a lot out of it, but I remember getting into it with the hand-wringing "MS in Psychology" over spanking. He said it only made children fear you. Not love or respect you. And it teaches them to use violence to solve problems.

This is when the first draft of the Norwood Unified Theorem of Parenting was presented. I asked, "You respect your boss right? But, he can fire you. Isn't at least a little of that respect actually fear? I mean fear and respect are used interchangeably in some literature." And some wringing of hand brought about something like..."It takes a subtle use of semantics to arrive at that."

And, do you think the mind of a child can make that subtle distinction? I don't. In fact, I think that a child's mind and emotions are far more primal than that. That they won't even begin to understand the subtleties of respect for years, and that in the mean time the world is dangerous, and fear is a powerful teaching tool. I think you shelter and control the child at the early ages. And as they develop, you introduce the subtleties of "cause and effect in good decision making" and "respecting people and property" and "societal norms vis a vis and The Social Contract" as they are able to understand. But you have to admit, at some point, all they understand is "something bad will happen when I do this". And when it comes to the stove, the fireplace and the street, I'd rather her be afraid.

In short, I love time outs. I love talking and reasoning with your kids. These should make up the vast majority of your discipline. But when they just won't stop running into the street, by God it is your damn duty to see to it that they learn, and if that takes a swat on the tush, so be it.

So, you don't have to agree with me. I'm not evangelizing The Norwood Unified Theorem of Parenting. What I am saying though, that someone called BS on my position at some point, and they had the political clout to do something about it. And everyday, that swat on the tush that served us well for histories recorded and beyond, gets more illegal in this country. And, that would be fine with me, except, I look around and we don't seem to be producing better children. I'm not so foolish as to think things were moral and perfect in my grandparent's day. But it seems as if they were MORE moral and perfect than these days we live in. And, you know, my mother's spanking didn't scar me for life. I've known every day of my life my mother loves me.

Look, I think Britney Spears is about the most miserable excuse for a mother I have ever observed. But you can't tell me that some judge yanking those kids from their mother and all they have ever known was not extremely damaging. We let the government into our families with good intentions. Stop child abuse, keep kids safe. But, the fact is, the government is really completely unsuited to the task.

Let me be clear for a second here. I don't anticipate EVER having to spank Katie. And I certainly would prefer it be that way. But, I think some children require a more physical approach, because it is all they can understand. At least for a season.

I believe with all that is in me what happened to my step son, is that before he could learn to understand respect, the government, through CPS, the police, and the court system, took aways the only disciplinary system his slowed development could understand when they forbade my wife and her ex-husband to use corporal punishment. Suddenly the kid had all the power. He could call CPS. And, I think it ruined him. A child should NEVER have the power. So, he never learned fear of doing wrong, thus, he never learned respect. And now he has trouble with parents and teachers and peers and cops. And it will take an ordained miracle of God for him to learn respect now, which is the basis of all healthy human relationships.

So, as always, I am open to instruction and correction on parenting. I want to be the best possible parent to Katie every single day. But, I don't think the government is qualified to speak to that issue. I'd rather hear from actual parents with actual kids. And, I think the government, in the form of CPS, the police, and the court system should only get involved in the most extreme of circumstances. It appears however, that their involvement is becoming all too frequent. And when a historically non-violent man is accused of abuse by a child with a history of lying, bad behavior and a couple of arrests under his belt. When said kid's mother and grand parents and pastors are all willing to swear in court that this man does not abuse this kid...
Give me the freakin' benefit of the doubt. I will NEVER have a perfect record again. That arrest will never go away. And that bothers me every day.
And the kicker is, they didn't do Him any favors by taking him out of our house. From what little comes our way these days, he is STILL getting into trouble at school.
What can I do? I gave it my best. I still hope and pray that grows into a good man.
I give him to God. "God can make a way, where there seems to be no way..."
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And now for a diaper change....

Brian
muse.platypionline.com

My Gabby Gal

The blog has been so serious lately. I thought I'd show you that life has gone on. This my baby yakkin up a storm.

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And now for a diaper change....

Brian
muse.platypionline.com

The Battle

	The aftermath of the explosion. Fun, eh?

Bare with me, this is not fun. So, last time I set the stage. Here's the description of the day. Now, my step-son has been violent with me from the start. 5 years ago, he tried to choke me for forcing him to take shower. He has hit me more times than I can count. I guess I should have made a bigger deal of that, but he couldn't hurt me, so I just shrugged it off. And I suspect, something is wrong inside him that he feels the need to be hit to be loved by a man. I dunno if his real dad ever hit him, because he's lied so much, I can't trust anything he ever said. I suspect his dad doesn't, because he seems to think his dad doesn't love him either.

So, have I ever hit him? I smacked him in the mouth once for calling his mother the one intolerable word. I put him in a wall once for raising his hand to her while again uttering said word. I, with great force, knocked a trash can out of his hand that he was swinging at his mother. See the pattern?

So, it was on this day June 3rd, 2007 that it all finally came to a head. I had come back from the store. I was making french toast and needed some essentials. My wife, having had Katie on the 15th of May, was recovering from a C-section, was depressed (not dangerously so, just melancholy), and was taking care of Katie's constant need, breast feeding. And then, we were going to drop Katie off at my mother-in-law's and go to the movies. If... the boy did his chores.

He did not. And, as a parent I do not negotiate. I dictate terms. I can be, and am, flexible. But, I dictate terms. Because I sure don't have to waste my money on movies, if I am not getting what I expect. My step-son always struggled with this.

So, being denied what he wanted, he went after his mom. If he harassed her enough, maybe he could go. So, I formed a barrier between our room and him. Nothing that hasn't happened before. He tried to insult me, and I (literally) reminded him he wasn't very good at verbal sparing. As, in "how many times have we done this? Has it EVER worked?" So, being by the changing table, he started messing with the baby's hygiene stuff. Maybe I should have let that go, but I took it away.

This was apparently the cue he needed to become violent. I handled this the way I usually did. He got in what shots he could before I restrained him. I held his wrists against the wall, and put my hip against him so he couldn't kick me. Again, maybe I should have done something different. But, it just seemed like a kid beating a cinder block wall. As long as he doesn't hurt himeself, why make a big deal?

Well, not being able to over come me, he began to destroy things. He started with the desk we had just bought my wife for her birthday. Next, I think (it happened really fast, the exact order of events is hazy) I picked up his playstation and threw it to the floor. He screamed as if I had stabbed him. I forget sometimes, as developmentally arrested as he is, that very young children form deep attachments to objects. It was not my best move, but I was so furious about the desk, I did it to vent, and not do unthinkable things.

That was my first critical mistake. My second would occur an instant later, as he began destroying the furniture, closets doors, and walls in his room. After years of being told it was the right move, I called 911. If I could go back, I would not do this. James, knowing exactly what happened, was terrified, and begged me to hang up. Begged his mom not to let them take him. And called his Dad in Texas.

I relaxed. I had often called friends to come over and provide a calming presence to our unstable home. I figured the police would do the same.

So, this is a long story. To sum up I told the police what I just told you, about the restraining, the playstation, everything. They arrested me. If you can imagine my state of mind. I couldn't believe it. I was sure everything I had done, if not optimal, was certainly legal. I was carted off, booked, put in an orange jumpsuit, and put in a 10 x 12 room with 10 other guys, 3 of whom were convicted felons, a murderer, a rapist, an a fraudster.

Much later I would read the police report. My step-son had told the police I threw him into the broken desk (here I must say, the sheriff was a moron. The damage to the desk was clearly inconsistent with the story. He had grabbed the door and punched it away from the desk. Throwing something into the desk would have caused collapsing damage, not scattering damage. Don't these guys go to a school or something?)

He also said I punched him. Now, how can I prove I didn't? I probably can't. I can only offer up the anecdotal evidence, that I, like most big guys, am a grappler, not a slugger. Big guys hold, and press, and slam. We're too slow to be punchers.

But, you know what else couldn't be proven. That I DID hit him. There was NO physical evidence. My wife swore out a statement to this. Clearly, James was not hurt in anyway, and with a smug expression, tried to talk to me when my father-in-law posted my bail. I said nothing, went to bed, and left the house early in the morning.

The next morning after I left, apparently liking what he saw, my step son called the police on my wife, saying she was threatening to kill the baby and herself. Luckily, my wife was on the neighbor's phone with the police at the same time, because the truth was, our son had hit her while she was holding the baby. My wife was NOT arrested. CPS came out and arranged to have the boy removed. They would later back pedal on this being a forced removal, but he was gone. To Texas, with his father. What small remorse he would show would come too little too late.

This should be the end of the story. It's not. I half expected all of this from the boy. Our justice system, that surprised me.

next: The War.

Rough waters ahead.

I know that a few parents read this blog now and I feel I have a duty to tell a story. It's a difficult and emotional one. It talks about our ability to parent as we see fit in the society we live in. It will paint an ugly picture of me, perhaps. It will paint an uglier picture of our legal system, and it's peripheral agencies. I'm not going to pull any punches. I'm going to take a deep look at the concepts of fear and respect in parenting. The fact will be laid out with precision, but there will be a lot of my personal opinion too. I'm not a trained medical professional, nor am I an ordained member of the clergy, so, consult with the appropriate professional before considering any of my story as "wisdom" to live by.

I'm going start my story tomorrow. But today, I will set the stage.
Look, I can't tell my whole childhood here. There are too many varibles to try to put the whole equation here. So, My mother felt her parents never loved her. Still Kinda does. My grandfather, despite tremendous talent and intellegence, had such piss poor self esteem, he bullied and belittled everyone to prove his worth, and was openly angrily jealous of the casual childhood of his grandchildren. So if you only get two things, get these. My mother loved me ALWAYS, even in spankings, and I always knew it and she made me as a delicate flower. An artist and a musician. And, my grandfather made me into fighter, skilled in physical and emotional combat. And, I have warred between the two all my life.

My wife, in short, has much emotional baggage. It's not my right to talk about her family life, but it left her with a hair pulling disorder she has to this day. She has an ex-husband that was physically and emotional abusive. She is very passive.

My stepson has emotional problems left over from the divorce, and has felt unwanted as custody changed hands several times. His grandparents and father have hindered his mothers ability to parent from the beginning. He is 6 foot, 200 lbs. His mother fears him because he is violent, and also because he reminds her of, and some time becomes for her, his father. She fears to confront him.

So, I am an overly sensitive fighter, my wife is passive and meek (at least in this area), and my stepson is emotionaly unstable, physically formidible, and developmentally arrested.

Powder Keg.

In June, this powder keg finally blew up. And it sent me on a journey I never expected, and will never forget.

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And now for a diaper change....

Brian
muse.platypionline.com