Law and Order: Juvenile Edition, "The Case of Misplaced Water"

The Victim was found distressed and wet. The Suspect was repeatedly saying, "It was an accident." Witness A was yelling streams of information regarding the events in question. Witness B said, "Pffftt!" Witness C seemed shifty-eyed and disinterested; he was jumping on the couch. Officer Z and I attempted to piece together enough of the events to create a cohesive crime scene. It was apparent we would have to separate the Suspect, Victim and Witnesses to see if we could get the story to add up.

Officer Z and I started in Interrogation Room A with "The Suspect." When I entered the room, he was blubbering incoherently about needing a glass of a water. I used the deep breathing technique I used after many years on the beat, forcing the Suspect to calm himself. For clarity, I will refer to myself, Officer R, as O.R. from this moment on.

O.R: So, tell me what happened.
The Suspect begins to blubber again.
O.R: I'd really like to help you, son, but I can't understand you when you speak that way. I'm going to need you to take a few more breaths and tell me the story from beginning to end. No crying this time.
Suspect: Okay... I went to get a glass of water.
O.R: In the kitchen?
Suspect: Yes.
O.R: Was the Victim in there with you?
Suspect: Yes, he was.
O.R: Okay, continue.
Suspect: After I filled up my glass, the Victim tipped it over, spilling it all over the floor and counter.
O.R: Okay.
Suspect: I filled it up again and the Victim went for it one more time, so I poured the glass of water over him.
Officer Zach (now referred to as O.Z. for clarity): Are you suggesting that this act was in self-defense?
Suspect: Yes.
O.Z: Alright, son, stay put until we speak to the other witnesses.

We closed the door to Interrogation Room A. Since the other rooms were filled, we were forced to use the lobby for our questioning. Witness A was concerned for the Victim, who had since been put in a pair of dry clothes, and wished to be by the Victim's side. Due to overcrowding, we were forced to comply with the witness's request. It became apparent that the other two witnesses were in no condition to be of any use to us and were released, pending further investigation. The Victim will be thus referred to as Mr. V, for clarity.

O.R: Mr. V?
Mr. V: Yes?
O.R: We have spoken with the Suspect, who has given us more information regarding the incident. I am going to ask you some questions, I would like for you to keep in mind that I have been trained to know when someone is lying. It would be within your best interests to be up front and honest with me.
Mr. V: Okay.
O.R: Before the events in question, did you approach the Suspect in any way?
Mr. V: No.
O.Z: You didn't reach for the glass, tip it over, rush at him, or any other action that could be construed as aggressive?
Mr. V: No.
O.R: Mr. V, I am going to give you one more chance to divulge any information to us that could be misunderstood.
Witness A: Mr. V didn't do anything! I saw'l it! 
(Witness A will now be referred to as Wah, for clarity.)
O.Z: Okay, Wah, what did you see?
Wah: Well, neither of them were directly in my line of sight but I distinctly remember the Suspect pouring the glass of water on Mr. V, with no provocation.
O.Z: Did you see the events leading up to the incident?
Wah: No, I was sitting with Witness B, trying to give her a kiss.
O.Z: So, you can neither confirm nor deny that the splash was provoked?
Wah: I suppose not.
O.R: Mr. V, where was the Suspect when he splashed you? 
Mr. V: By the sink.
O.R: Where were you?
Mr. V: I was standing by the gate leading towards the sink.
O.R: Were you at anytime anywhere other than where you have suggested?
Mr. V: No.

O.Z. and I both surveyed the area of the incident, confirming that there was only a pattern of water that suggested the pouring incident occurred and no signs of a struggle, such as was indicated by the Suspect. We again went to clarify the Suspect's story.

O.Z: Alright, son. O.R. and I have surveyed the area and it is clear that the chain of events that you offered could not have been possible. In which case this is clear cut assault and battery.

(The Suspect immediately flushes and begins to squeeze out a few more tears.)

Suspect: I am telling the truth.
O.R: If that is the case, how come the crime scene has no other splash pattern beyond the incident in question?
Suspect: The original splash was further into the kitchen area. There was a tray sitting on the other side of the sink, it's filled with water. I promise you, there is no other way that the tray could have filled up.

O.Z. and I both investigated the tray and confirmed that there was water filling the tray. No other possible investigated avenue could have filled the tray. We decided at this time that the situation was clear and moved both Mr. V and the Suspect into the same room, in the lobby.

O.Z: We have taken into consideration all sides and have discovered that neither of you is telling the whole truth. Mr. V, we've come to the conclusion that you did show an act of aggression before the Suspect tipped the glass of water on you, as is apparent by the splash patterns of the tray next to the sink.

O.R, turning to the victim: Now, son, we know you were also lying. This was not an accident but an act of defiance after an attempt at play gone wrong.

O.Z: Our decision it that both of you will spend 30 minutes, hard time, in separate cells. You should be lucky that we aren't petitioning for a restraining order. Son, you can go into Interrogation Room A for now. We'll bring you a blanket and pillow.

The Suspect: Can I convince you to bring my dog?

O.Z: We will think about it.

O.R: And Mr. V; you will be spending the rest of your time here in Lockup B with two other cellmates.

Wah: What about me?

O.Z: You, Wah, can do whatever you want. Want to watch a movie?

The Suspect and Mr. V groan in unison, being escorted to their separate cells. 

((Basically, here is what happened. My six year old and his six year old friend had an altercation with a glass of water today. I started to just write about the story when the creative bug bit me in the ass (ouch!) and I just had to elaborate and exaggerate. Now, this little jewel is roaming around, cracking my friends up. It's nice to feel like you've contributed something to the artistic world. Even if it is amateur, stupid, etc. I'm pretty proud of it. Enjoy!))

Unicorns and Rainbow Farts...

Or something like that. 

I figured that today I would make the effort to write something positive. Not because I'm in a particularly positive mood but I'm not in a bad one either and that is an accomplishment when you have BPD.

Last night, a pretty big thunderstorm came in. All three of the babies ended up in our bed. Thankfully, two weeks ago, we upgraded to a king-sized bed. It was weird being able to move around, get comfortable and not elbow somebody in the head. Skyler was laying in the crook of my arm, Tobe laid next to her, then Korben was snuggled up next to Zach. By the end of the night, Skyler was back in her crib in our room, Tobe was in the middle of the bed and Korben (who I thought was missing) had ended up at the foot of the bed tangled in the blanket... fast asleep. 

Often times, I get overwhelmed by my responsibilities. I don't feel like I contribute as much financially as I could. Zach says it's okay but I don't feel that it is. I'm in school full-time most times. (Although right now, I'm only taking one class and thank God for that because it's a 2.5 hour lecture immediately followed by a 2.5 hour lab twice a week. Anatomy/Phys... ick.) But then there are these moments where everything perfectly aligns. The babies are being sweet to one another, snuggling and quiet. Zach is in a good mood and wants to hold me and make me feel extra loved. And that internal voice of mine that tries to stir up trouble is finally still. And that is why I fight every single damn day to be better. This family deserves me at my best.

But there was a time, not that long ago actually, where I didn't have any of this. I had Korben and he was a perfect little amazing man who was just beginning to teach me how to be amazing. That little guy went through so much and God help me, he makes me want to not be a complainer. (Sadly that isn't my nature, so it's still a lot of work.) But Zach and I were still dancing the line between friends and lovers. Tobe and Skyler weren't even a twinkle in either of our eyes yet. And it felt so hopeless. Like no one understood me. I try to remember that I am lucky. That I am loved. That there are people out there that are fighting this disorder by themselves and it's awful. And I hope that one of these posts can give them a little tiny ray of hope in an otherwise dismal day. You aren't alone. You may be single but you aren't alone. There is always someone out there that loves and cares for you and understands.

And I am more than willing to be that for anyone who needs it. 

No Child Left Behind or To the Side or Even Kinda Parallel but Slightly to the Back because... Feelings...

Call me crazy but this whole "there is more to the game than being the best" attitude has spiraled completely out of control. Don't get me wrong, I don't feel it's necessary to beat "we have to win!" into our children... but I also don't think we should tell them that winning doesn't matter at all. It does.

I used to play basketball. I wasn't the best. In fact, I had terrible control of the ball. I couldn't dribble like some of the other girls on the team; behind their backs, through their legs, tossing it effortlessly to a teammate in some trick throw. That just didn't come naturally to me. But I wanted to be good. I wanted to earn my spot on that team. I wanted to be someone that they put out on the court in the first line-up. Since I never could seem to master control over the ball when dribbling, I took to becoming amazing at making baskets. And ya know what? I did master it. I was one of the first girls at my age that could make a three-point shot expertly at any place on around the court. Since we were approximately seven and eight years old, no one was taught to guard someone outside of that three-point rim, expecting them to be unable to make that shot. So, for a few years, they would have a play set up specifically for me to be completely open behind that line so I could make baskets. Eventually, all of the teams on our level caught up to our game and so that play was no longer an option but the point of the matter is that I worked hard to be good at something for my team.

Now my son is playing on a T-ball team. It may not be "all about winning" but it also isn't "just a game." It is much more than that. We are supposedly teaching these kids how to work hard together as a team, right? Well, explain to me how I can tell my child to be supportive of their teammates and root them on when some of his teammates aren't even trying? How can I tell my kid that he lost the game even though they played their hardest, when other kids DIDN'T try their hardest? How is it fair to my child to practice and practice and practice and excel in the game and continue to lose because other kid's parents think that it's no big deal? Bottom line. It isn't fair. It's one thing for your kid to be terrible at the game because they are just terrible at the game. If they try their absolute hardest and at the end of the day still suck, that's totally fine with me. But I have every right to be annoyed when my son, rosy cheeked and sweating his ass off in his batting helmet has worked his tail end off to run the bases outside in 100 degree weather and your child knowing better (as this isn't his first rodeo in the game) hits the ball and not runs but WALKS to first base and gets easily tagged out. Then you say, "Oh, it's okay, you tried your hardest." No. Your child did NOT try his hardest. Your child didn't try at all. And dammit all, if that was my kid, he'd be getting his ass chewed for it. 

It is okay to tell your kid that you are disappointed because they didn't try. They have to try. This isn't a world that our parents lived anymore. You don't get through high school and if you're lucky, college, and go out into the world to have your dream job. No, you have to work your ass off. Just my generation right now generally has to work for at least a Bachelor's degree to get anywhere. By the time our kid's are grown up and out in the world, we can probably expect for it to be a Master's level of education to get anywhere. And here we are, sugar-coating the ever living shit out of everything. And you know what really "busts my buffers?" That I am called the hard ass for feeling this way. I'M somehow the bad guy for this. No, the bad guy in this scenario is the parent who fails to prepare their kid for life outside of their little home bubble. College professors and managers aren't going to look at them and say, "Oh, well, you tried your hardest... so here's an A." They are going to say, "If that's your best, than you need to be withdrawn/fired." At the very least, if you want the world to be glittery and unicorn fart-y than you need to keep your kid out of competitive sports. Because right now, yeah, sure, they are six and seven year olds. But later, they will be ten and eleven year olds and the coaches and parents will chew them up and spit them out and your kid will be traumatized because you told them that anything less than their absolute best was enough.

Quit telling your kids that it's okay not to try. Quit telling them that they are allowed to be lazy little bastards when it directly affects the kids whose parents make them work hard. Because basically, what you are telling my kid and everyone else's kid who is actually trying that that work is for NOTHING. It's not for nothing. It's for a trophy or a 4.0 GPA or for valedictorian or for a scholarship or an amazing job. It is NOT nothing. And if you want to be nothing... be nothing on your own time.

/end rant