Optimism in a Cynic's Life
Lessee, it was a couple posts ago, when Breanna was brought back home, that I'd said something truly silly like, "Only one more hearing and . . . "
Most of the folks I'm aware of who read this are true cynics and must've chuckled under their collective breath upon reading that goofy little phrase.
Because, of course, in the legal world, there's no such thing as "one more hearing."
Yeah. That'll happen.
Well, it's been two so far and one more scheduled for next month, and Bre's mother has shown the courts and attorneys the behavior our family has endured for the last four years. At this particular point, we're going through all the legal motions, doing all the things required by the legal system, biding our time until finally, someone -- hopefully the judge -- will decide enough is enough and allow Bre and me to forge some kind of life together.
In the meantime, after Bre's begging for weeks, Nana bought the little stinker a water play table and, along with the sandbox, she spends hours now making herself a gritty muddy mess. She's almost delirious, she's so happy.
This isn't to say we don't have our four-year-old issues; we do. And she's got some abandonment issues that aren't just going to fade away, but she's happy and Nana's happy to know she safe and happy and there's this whole army of people who love her and are standing behind her.
It won't be long and I'll be back to my gritching about the world and my place in it. I'm just taking the time right now to make sure the nest I'm building is good and big and strong and will securely hold a growing girl. Don't want her falling out any more, do we?
Most of the folks I'm aware of who read this are true cynics and must've chuckled under their collective breath upon reading that goofy little phrase.
Because, of course, in the legal world, there's no such thing as "one more hearing."
Yeah. That'll happen.
Well, it's been two so far and one more scheduled for next month, and Bre's mother has shown the courts and attorneys the behavior our family has endured for the last four years. At this particular point, we're going through all the legal motions, doing all the things required by the legal system, biding our time until finally, someone -- hopefully the judge -- will decide enough is enough and allow Bre and me to forge some kind of life together.
In the meantime, after Bre's begging for weeks, Nana bought the little stinker a water play table and, along with the sandbox, she spends hours now making herself a gritty muddy mess. She's almost delirious, she's so happy.
This isn't to say we don't have our four-year-old issues; we do. And she's got some abandonment issues that aren't just going to fade away, but she's happy and Nana's happy to know she safe and happy and there's this whole army of people who love her and are standing behind her.
It won't be long and I'll be back to my gritching about the world and my place in it. I'm just taking the time right now to make sure the nest I'm building is good and big and strong and will securely hold a growing girl. Don't want her falling out any more, do we?
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