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The School of Life has so much to teach – if only we would stop to observe and listen to the story whispered to our Soul. Sometimes we become inundated with the needs of people in our lives, at home, at work or no matter where we go. We see what is written on their faces that tells us without words where their mindset leans. We hear the words that are unspoken behind their eyes. We feel the impact of their words or actions when we are in their presence. The world outside our door teaches us what our schools do not and yet its language for many remains a mystery.
We see a tree renewed in the spring as the buds of their leaves and fruit are born forth reminding us that not all is lost and after walking the long dark of winter we feel the lifeblood of the Mother Earth come alive inside of us. We are like the trees before us. We Stand firmly rooted in our faith and know that we are still here and that Life renews itself. We are alive and are meant to thrive.
We see the four-legged beings in various forms sauntering by in their pursuits. A rabbit hops into sight trembling in fear of a winged predator that may come and sweep them into the air for dinner. It stops often to listen and look before it moves toward that tiny clump of lamb quarters not two feet away. When it arrives, its vigilance remains keen, its muscles tight and ready to sprint as it chews on the providence of abundance before them.
We hear the call of the hawk’s piercing cry, beckoning our attention to awareness. We become alert to our environment and become mindful of what we are doing and where we are going. It is Spirit’s messenger that begs us to follow the promptings of our heart instead of the wayward path of this world.
We stop long enough to look down and see a tiny ant, struggling with retrieving a succulent leaf 20 times its own size. It stops and assesses its targets position and thereby repositions itself in yet another attempt to lift and carry it home. The attempt fails but it does not give up. It continues the dance of assessment until alas he finds another way to retrieve Earth’s blessing. He hoists his heavy ladened treasure and moves around mountains of debris and any other obstacle in its path, never wavering in the task.
We see a lone flower in bloom sitting alone on a mountain of rocks. No other life can be seen around it. A tiny seed on the breeze has brought it into a stark empty environment, and yet this tiny seed found purchase in between the crack of one boulder. There is dug its roots deep to find the nourishment it needed to survive and thrive among a bunch of rocks. It withstood every windstorm holding firm. It braved the scorching heat of the sun-infused stones that tried to burn it out and the torrential rains that tried to uproot its foothold – and it grew to share its radiant beauty with all who passed on by.
I am grateful for Life and the ability to breathe.
I am grateful for all of Life’s mysteries.
I am grateful for my senses and sensibilities.
I am grateful to my parents for being absent…
… you made me unafraid to be on my own.
… you taught me to be my own woman.
I am grateful for your obtuse abuse…
…you taught me resilience,
…you taught me strength
…you taught me self-respect and resolve.
I am grateful for your criticisms…
…you taught me to be critical in my thinking.
…you taught me to think for myself.
…you taught me to see things from a different perspective.
…you taught me not to believe everything I heard.
I am grateful for betraying my innocence and trust…
…you opened my eyes to my reality.
…you taught me to see things more clearly.
…you taught me trust must be earned.
I am grateful to my siblings for shunning me…
…you taught me self-preservation was key.
I am grateful to all my family for abandoning me…
…you taught me to be self-reliant.
…you taught me to hold my head up and walk alone.
I am grateful to my ex-husband for your abuse…
…you taught me longsuffering and temperance.
…you became the catalyst for my healing journey from abuse.
I am grateful to my current husband and my children…
…you taught me acceptance.
…you taught me patience.
…you taught me it was safe to trust.
…you taught me it was safe to speak up.
…you taught me it was safe to step out of my comfort zone.
…you taught me it was okay to be who I am.
…you taught me Love really does exist in this world.
…you taught me to Believe in myself.
I am grateful You are here.
I am grateful You hear my heart.
I am grateful to You…for just being You.
We are human beings, both you and me – and yet we are so much more than we appear to be. We are composed of millions of particles of Light inside of us at the very core of our being. We are co-creators with the Divine unseen forces, both within us and within the fabric of this Garden of Life. Our existence…matters.
When we hold the Light of our heart – every moment we breathe holds the potential of what yet can be, but when the light is subdued by the shadows of our wounds we find ourselves bathed in fear or awash in grief. We tend to forget what we can achieve and become blind to what others may need. When we hide the Light inside us, our world seems to suffer an immeasurable number of things.
It’s a simple fact that humans are destroying our world. We have turned a blind eye and ignored the plethora of evidence all around us. There are thousands of other living beings and lifeforms that have been annihilated and more still suffering from the human storm. Old paradigms we were taught to believe has brought us to this present moment in time.
When I look back at the years of my Life and I see beyond the mundane news and take in the overall effect of humans on this planet. My heart hurts. I see patterns that have shaped the current conditions in our country and around the world. I see the shadow of abuses from the past, how it has grown into a global entity in the abuse of power and the rise of what the King James version of the Bible calls – the god of Mammon or money
When we hold the Light of our soul – we Inspire others. When we hold the Light of our heart forward to see – it dispels the darkness so others can see that the Light inside of them is also needed. When we share the Light – we Help Life heal.
Imagine the land, water, and air would be pristine because no one is raping or pillaging the resources of our planet for profit. Educating children to become the new stewards of Life and caretakers of our heavenly home.
Imagine the blessings and bounty of the Mother Earth recovered from the centuries of abuse from the greed of mankind. Imagine our ability to recapture Her full bounty, Her grace and Her blessings for all.
Imagine future stewards of faith and vision working together with each other to feed ourselves and one another, to cultivate, harvest and prepare the free natural God given medicines, health, and care for ourselves, our families and each other instead of the need for greed.
Imagine that. No one would go hungry, no one would have to worry about medical bills, or paying for education. No one would need to be concerned about a corporate toxic waste dump in their backyard or poisoned wells or aquifers from mining uranium that is killing them or their children. No nuclear waste or garbage under our feet bleeding into the soil where our food grows or illegally being dumped in our oceans.
Can you Imagine the whole world having Tesla’s free sustainable energy that no one has to pay for? No electric grid would be needed, no oil spills, no drilling and no need for fossil fuels. Imagine no homeless people – ever. Imagine no senior citizen not able to pay their mortgage or light bill in the winter or sitting without food because their medicine is outrageously high.
Imagine a child’s education geared toward what they are drawn to naturally. Imagine our warriors at home, caring for the home front here at home instead of fighting a wasteful political war to control a region or a marketplace or a commodity. Imagine people working together to build someone a house, a community center, a healing center, local gardens, farms or hydroponic stations, building and setting up solar panels.
So what would the governments and corporations do? Here’s a thought. They are fired and reassigned a new title with specific tasks that would provide every community with the necessary mandated materials in each State. Each State would distribute and deliver the necessary sustainable materials to each community and or individual at no charge. Maybe even require them to help put all the pieces together once they get there.
I believe all things are possible. I believe the destiny of humanity can change. I believe we can heal ourselves, each other and our planet. I believe we can enrich the whole world by making it sustainable for All Life. It is only the mind of mankind needs to change.
You and I may not see this Garden of Eden restored in our lifetime, but perhaps it could be a dream for future generations to aspire toward. Think, Dream and Imagine the different Future for yourself, your children and this beautiful blue jewel in the Heavens that is designed to sustain All Life.
I am following through on the tasks assigned associated with the Sunshine Blogger award; I would like to nominate the following fellow bloggers
Mary Mangee – a friend, colleague, aspiring author, writer and blogger who will make you smile, make you think, and bring a bit of sunshine in your world. You can find her at https://dailydosesdotlife.wordpress.com/
James Edgar Skye – a brilliant mind, blogger and blog builder. James is also an aspiring author currently writing his memoir. You can find him at https://thebipolarwriter.blog
Each blog is a unique and beautiful image of the human experience. Each tells a story that is their own and allows us to see the various forms of life in the process of evolution.
Here are Questions for the Nominees listed above:
1. Describe your first conscious memory?
2. How did that first memory make you feel?
3. What experience changed your perspective of how you view the world today?
4. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?
5. What is your favorite color and why?
6. Share one enlightening moment that defined a turning point in your life.
7. How would you define your thought patterns and response-ability under stress?
8. If you were handed a million dollars what would you do with it?
9. What is your most limiting belief?
10. Answer the question: “Who am I?”
I look forward to seeing your posts on your page should you choose to complete the tasks required by the rules. If not – that’s ok too!
Dancing this Sacred Spiral is what we all do whether we are aware of it or not. We experience something that reminds us of an unhealed wound. That wound is reopened and we are flooded with memories, thought patterns and emotions we ‘thought’ we were done with, only now we are forced to look at the experience or experiences again.
Know Thyself, Heal Thyself were the words that were written over the Temples in Delphi, Greece centuries ago. Words that I took to heart because I knew the exorbitant costs of professional counseling were way out of reach for me; and, even if I did have counsel I knew I would still have to do the work myself anyway.
“Children learn what they Live” I know this – we all do.
Some of us are quite aware of what we have learned from childhood on up. Some do not. Our personalities and character grow on the spiral upward from childhood based on our experiences and encounters with life and other human beings.
As an abuse survivor, I have had to dig deep to uproot the hidden lessons from the first 38 years of my life. You would think I would have learned and healed all of the issues associated with the things I endured in those years, but here it is 23 years later and I find that I have not.
My healing journey is an ongoing process that takes me back to dig through some very deep-seated issues, sadness and emotions I thought I was done with. Mentally and emotionally it sucks but, don’t get me wrong, I am truly grateful when I unearth the hidden issues that need to be reviewed because I know that there is more that needs to be reconciled, forgiven and released.
Hurtful experiences from the past tend to be on a subconscious trigger that flips the switch to automatic ‘recall’. We have no choice but to ‘remember’ it when the memory or memories resurface into consciousness. When it happens then it becomes my job to review and redefine the experience and the emotions that go along with it. Only then can I refile that old memory with a more positive mindset, viewpoint, and emoticon to go with it.
This repetitive process of review has given me an updated perspective and a new way of looking at things. It has adjusted the perception of myself, other people and our world. May it be so with you.
(Note: “Children learn what they Live” is a limited self-published, self-distributed channeled booklet of poems written by the author during her healing journey in 2007.)
I am taking a leap of faith today and would like to share a chapter from my memoir. I haven’t completely settled on the name of my book, but for now, it seems fitting to follow through with the name I have applied to it in my mind. For the moment, I think “Snippets of Time” seems fitting.
My memoir is about the effects of abuse on a child and how abuse has grown and has become magnified throughout society today. We see and experience it all around us from individuals to those business and from those at all levels of government around the world.
There is no human being on the face of this planet who has not been touched by it in some form. No one is immune from its grasp nor are they immune from its effects. It has touched us all and it is time to change it.
Some of you may find this chapter disturbing, yet it is a true account of an event that has been burned in my soul. It has affected my development and my personality in more ways that I can tell you, and this is just a small part of what I have experienced in my lifetime. If you feel so led to respond – I would be honored to hear some feedback from you.
We have all walked down a road less traveled and have found ourselves in a situation or an experience that throws us off track for awhile. Some find themselves being in the wrong place at the wrong time and some may have found themselves unwittingly pulled into something that they cannot get out of.
Either way, we find ourselves feeling lost in the middle of an unknown forest and realize that our internal navigation system has been completely knocked offline. We just can’t seem to get a signal to get our bearings. We feel disoriented, unsettled, unnerved, anxious, angry, dismayed, concerned, worried or even frightened. We are overwrought and overwhelmed by the plethora of thoughts bombarding our mind and the tsunami of emotions that wipes away all sense and sensibility.
Our attempt to get back on track is continually thwarted as we seek higher ground to get our bearings. We find ourselves in uncharted territory on an unknown path fumbling and stumbling over roots that have been buried deep under a canopy of leaves that have fallen. At first glance the withered leaves look dry but we soon realize that those leaves are damp and slick underneath, nor can we see what lurks underneath them as we try to climb our way out.
We are alone on a road that is unknown and untraveled and we feel isolated from the so-called civilized, as we attempt to gauge or redirect our sense of direction and go into to survival mode basics.
Most of us know that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and most of us know that moss tends to grow on the north side of a tree. That basic information gives us the directions of East, West and North respectively, but without a map and knowing how to read the map, we realize that we are still unable to get from point A to point B. We still feel lost and intuitively know that things could go South pretty quickly. So what do we do now?
Panic is not our friend. We know this, so we close our eyes, take a deep breath (or a few) and allow our mind time to calm down. Some of us will say a prayer for guidance and sometimes that is enough as the sun sets over the horizon and the darkness encroaches us. We take inventory of what we have to work with, sifting through our pockets for the resources we have on-hand and find a shelter to protect us from the elements.
When the sun rises in the morning we say a prayer of gratitude for yet another day. Our circumstances may not have changed but we always have a choice to change it as the sun diminishes the mist in mountains of our mind. Once the clouds dissipate we become more clear and return to the track where the train derailed us.
Standing on the track we begin to see we have a choice of direction. We can either go back down the track where we came from or we can continue to move forward. Which will you choose?
My mind has been wandering and wondering. I am looking back to what was and to what could be. My fingers are typing what my mind is thinking at this moment. Call it madness, call it melancholy, call it what you will.
There was an issue that came up while preparing for the middle portion of my memoir. I felt truly blessed when a writing colleague and friend was gracious enough to assist me with a little research. The article that was found hit me like a baseball bat. The impact stunned me and I wasn’t prepared for the emotional tsunami that took the breath right out of me when I wasn’t looking.
I felt like I had been clotheslined by a five hundred pound linebacker that took me out of the game for a while. I withdrew like a turtle and went on lockdown. I stopped writing. I avoided it like the plague. I needed time to unwind a forest of tangled vines in my mind.
Then it dawned on me that I never dealt with it – quite frankly it blew me away. When I looked back at how things unfolded after this drawn-out event was over I saw where I simply brushed it aside, stuffed it down, pushed past it and moved on to try and put my life back together with some semblance of order and purpose.
The mental, emotional and the physical repercussions from that series of events has come full circle. I have been dealing with some very old wounds. Wounds that I never truly looked at or ever dealt with.
The impact of that series of events affected the flow of my Life both inwardly and outwardly. That unrequitable nightmare became embedded in my physical body,(As a massage therapist I know muscles hold memories)and was imprinted in the energy matrix or light of my soul.
The seeds sown during those 13 months had laid dormant inside me quietly taking root in the dark and have now come into season to be reviewed. Unresolved issues have a way of popping up when we least expect them to and when they unwittingly crop up it has a way of throwing us off course. My internal navigation system went haywire and I spiraled down into the depths of despair.
Negative thoughts can truly pollute the physical body on so many levels. When the issues associated with this long-term event rose up it exploded into my conscious and the ride thereafter turned me inside out unexpectedly. The emotions that were stuffed into the suitcase of dormancy were also retrieved from the lost and found area of the baggage claim department. It was extreme. My physical body reacted.
Recurring thought patterns came up for review. I had a choice to renew and refile the thought as it was, or review more it more deeply. When I dug deeper it was difficult to unmask hidden truths. Once ‘I got it’ then I had the option to refine, redefined and refile those thoughts in a totally different archive.
The difficulty I experience is when my conscious mind becomes flooded by the emotional tsunami that overwhelms whatever sense or sensibilities I have. My ability to reason begins to wane, and at times simply disappears. The term ‘brain fog’ doesn’t even come close to describe it.
My ability to think literally escapes me and unfortunately, a part of me goes with it! I walk around mindlessly as if a part of me has left to find answers and bring back some clarity. Its been a struggle to make sense of it all. The mental hula hoops I have to jump through becomes a regular 5-ring circus.
The emotional impact has been daunting – but fruitful. The physical repercussions will be coming to light in a couple of weeks. Listing the lessons learned and finding the words to portray the events is now the challenge.
Do not let unresolved issues continue to take you down that dark corridor. Pull them out, face them, learn from them and heal them in your mind. When you do that, you heal yourself.
A cool breeze lifted the branches of the trees as I watched the hummingbirds dance around the feeder outside my door this morning. It seemed they were synchronized under the spell of life’s music. The branches of the poplar waved its greeting and beckoned me to come join in the dance. Working from home can sometimes make you feel caged with the hours necessary to make a living. It had been awhile since I have spent time in nature and decided to get out for awhile.
Old news and experiences have a way of weighing us down, locked in a search to unravel hidden beliefs. My mind has been heavy in healing work and I felt the need to get my bare feet in the grass to reconnect with Mother Earth’s life giving essences. I am grateful to have chosen that.
When I stepped outside my door it was quite clear that I hadn’t been outside in awhile. My hummingbird vine exploded in beautiful growth this season weaving its delicate tendrils around the front landing and reaching skyward to embrace the fake shutters surrounding our front window.
My husband is such a loving soul and has expressed his concern of this happening. When I went to tend to them I realized how entangled a mass they had become and decided it would be wise to disengage its progress. As I began to unweave the braided strands I thought of the meaning associated with these tiny gifts of creation.
Hummingbirds have a way of bringing joyful delight in just watching them. They seem to conjure up images of purity and for me and the dance we dance with those around us. Everything in world is in a constant state of movement, even things that seem to be stationary – we just can’t see the molecules with our human vision. We have to look deeper.
As a seeker of Truth, on my own personal journey to heal from abuse, I realized as I unwound the cord of vines of this delicate plant, I understood the mirror it reflected back to me of what was going on inside my heart and mind. Each small featherlike strand represented “thoughts” that kept me bound to old patterns of thinking. As the years passed new thoughts were braided into the rope like weave I was holding.
As a child, I realized that the joy I once knew was lost to me at the age of five. It was choked off and buried deep down inside from that first beating. The joy of exploring my world was also suppressed that same day I was punished for coming home late from school. It seems I was dissociated from my eternal essence of love when I was made to feel like I didn’t matter.
So as I stood there acknowledging what my heart whispered to me in that moment, I chose to turn my efforts into a moving meditation. Unwinding each bundle of tiny fragile vines and leaves takes both time and patience, and with each strand I unwound my spirit lifted. Joy came into my heart in just doing the task as the wind danced around me whispering its song. It took an hour for the first bundle, and an hour and a half for the second to be rewoven along the iron fence housing the enclave of a sanctuary for my tiny friends.
I have been seeking the succulent nectar of joy and could never engage in its fullness. Now I understood why. As I continue to unravel the mystery that is still hidden in me I am rediscovering my true essence. I am a healer and a teacher in my own way and I love to create beauty in various artforms. I let that all go when I moved to this State, to appease and please the opinions of others instead of listening to my own heart.
Today I am reclaiming my joy. Today I am reclaiming my right to use the gifts I have been given, and my right to choose to use those gifts to make life better for others and humanity as a whole. Today I am reclaiming my sovereign right to just Be me.
Today is the day of reckoning for my friend in her fight to keep full custody of her child. My husband dropped me off at my her house this morning. When I knocked on the door she reminded me of a squirrel chasing another squirrel up and down a tree. Except the squirrel she was chasing was invisible.
She was bouncing around from room to room, shuffling paperwork, printing off last minute copies, looking for photographs of injuries inflicted on her child and other items associated with her case – and she wasn’t dressed yet. She was geared up and going nowhere fast. She was driving us to the courthouse in downtown traffic in this state of mind. It made me pause, and that became the cause for me to pray for her, the drive and the day. I stopped her long enough to give her a hug. She was scared to death of loosing her only child to her abuser.
It’s 9:00 o’clock a.m. when we were actually walking into the court room. A few others came to give her the moral support she needed and to be a witness on her behalf. She was frantic, carrying a cardboard box of paperwork while her opponents dressed accordingly toting their own in stylish crates on wheels.
We did the best we could, in the short window of time that we had, to pull together as much information as we could, so she could defend her right to retain custody of her abused child. To do so, she would have to stand up and state her case, then prove the ‘abuse’ really existed.
The Plaintiff, (her abuser) and his attorney sit at a table to her right. On her left are two other attorneys, each representing a State agency that had a variety of interactions with the Defendant. My friend, has been relegated to sitting in very the center of the room, directly in front of the judge. I felt an overwhelming sense of the imbalance of things.
Over the years, this woman had no choice but to send her child or leave him with his abuser. A court order took the choice right out of her hands. She even went to jail for 30 days and was slammed with a year of probation by withholding her son from his abuser.
My friend had sought out help from the resources available within the system in her region, and she was referred to other programs in the process. A Guardian Ad Litem had been appointed to her son by a previous court order, and an attorney with that agency was present in court today.
My friend fulfilled her obligations of attending all court ordered programs including co-parenting classes with her abuser and jumped through all the hoops they required.
Today, it looked as if they were all taking a definitive stance against her. Both agencies appeared to be contact with her abuser’s attorney from the glances, smirks and verbal exchanges within the courtroom. All the people involved in this case over the span of years have given their opinions. Some have assessed, evaluated and judged their position on the custody of this child. Judgments that may have been colored by their personal interactions with my friend along the way.
There is a great deal of research available to show us what few know, acknowledge or even talk about when it comes to “the abuse of power in the system” on the people who are up to their neck and treading water in it.
“Mediation of child custody disputes is mandated in several states. Investigators have averred that victims of domestic violence (DV) are greatly disadvantaged in mediation. The present study empirically evaluated outcomes and found that mediators failed to recognize and report DV in 56.9% of the DV cases. The court’s screening form failed to indicate DV in at least 14.7% of the violent cases. Mediation resulted in poor outcomes for DV victims in terms of protections, such as supervised visitation and protected child exchanges. Mediator capacity to focus on the child’s best interest was called into question. Child custody mediation should not be mandated in cases of DV.” Child custody mediation in cases of domestic violence: Empirical evidence of a failure to protect. Violence Against Women,11(8), 1022–1053. doi:10.1177=1077801205278043 –
We all know that interactions from some women facing the system and those within the system is traumatic in and of itself. My friend has been diagnosed with PTSD was being cornered by not one attorney, but a total of three attorneys. She is overwhelming stressed and is “shaking” as she speaks after 10 years of having to encounter her abuser by court order and having no choice than to leave her child with her known abuser.
The thought of her abuser having full custodial rights and being the primary caretaker of her son, after 10 years of fighting for her sanity and her son, was almost too much for her to bear. These attorneys “knew” exactly what they were doing by placing her in the middle of the room between them and directly in front of the judge. They knew she would not be able to communicate efficiently.
My friend waved me up front to sit with her at the table, not only for support but a sense that she wasn’t standing alone. All three attorney’s approached the judge and I was removed from sitting with her “because I was not an attorney.” She was visibly stricken and started shaking a bit more, knowing she would have to be up there on her own. The process was slow. The Plaintiff’s’ attorney, an attorney for DSS and the court designated attorney that was appointed as Guardian Ad Litem for her son, all took their time to state their case.
Meanwhile, the subtle interactions between all three attorney’s across the aisle did not go unnoticed by those of us in the gallery, nor did the judge miss a thing. It was not only unprofessional from all of them, including their witnesses, it was childish. The fact that the judge didn’t miss a thing made me smile.
When my friend got to question the witnesses for the State and the Plaintiff, she did her best. She was clearly not an attorney. The judge knew this. She was confused and unfocused, but she held herself up and didn’t break down. Her questions led nowhere and in fact there were many times she forgot to ask a question at all. The blessing was that the judge was patient and tolerant (to the dismay of the State and the Plaintiff’s attorney). He saw her condition and he saw the smirks and chuckles of the “professionals” who were attempting to break her down fly across the tables in front of him.
It wasn’t until well after a late lunch break that my friend was able to “state her case.” Her defining moment was when she held up her timeline with backup copies of the original planners to submit it into evidence and spoke up loud and proud – “This is MY VOICE!” “This document IS My Voice your honor!” This is a historical account of the abuse over the past 10 years that both I and my son have endured.
All three attorneys “objected” it as evidence. All three, especially the Plaintiff’s attorney voicing it as being “highly objected” as evidence. My friend’s questioning of her abuser already revealed her client’s arrest records which unseated her considerably and undermined the case that he was a “good man.” The document in question provided additional proof, and was complete with doctor’s names, hospital records and even a handwritten letter from her deceased mother that my friend found after her mother passed a few months ago. In addition, she had a recorded statement from her deceased mother in the Social-Emotional Evaluation of her son by one of the State agencies.
I truly feel her mother was present at her side during this last phase of this hearing session. She had very little time to pull it all together. The judge “accepted” her documents into evidence despite ALL of their objections. I bowed my head in gratitude for that defining moment.
The hearing lasted right up till 6:00 p.m. last Tuesday. The Plaintiff’s attorney thought she had the case nailed, as did the other two attorneys for the State. She pushed “twice” for a ruling at the close, and requested that the child be removed immediately and placed into the father’s care. She also had the audacity to request surveillance on my friend citing her “mental state” and the potential that she would flee the State. Really???
The judge shook his head at her callousness and denied her a ruling on the spot, stating that he would have to look at “ALL” of the evidence presented and that he would “email” his ruling to her, the other attorneys present and to the mother “when he was done.” You would think an attorney would not have a temper tantrum like a two year old. It was quite funny watching her twist her lip and make faces as if no one was looking. I swear she stomped one foot in the process. I believe the Plaintiff’s attorney was beside herself. In fact, all three of them were all stunned.
At the writing of this post, there has still been no word of the judges ruling. It looks like we will have to wait a little longer.