I met his dad once. He seemed really nice. As far as I can tell, his parents like her and they're being very supportive. However, they're in as much of a legal bind as I am - maybe more so because they're not her blood relatives. They're also here in Missouri.
Pretty much what they sound like they would be...ghosts of kitties past. Eventually, I assume they will cross on over, but until then, I'll make sure they are in a home. NOT a dump. As I said, you may laugh now. Not everyone believes in such things, but once it has touched your life, you can't NOT believe anymore.
Not always priorities. I have to buy processed salads whenever possible, and just wash the heck out of them. The nerve damage in my hands leaves me with a very weak grip, and slicing and dicing is beyond me, We all have different physical and time resources, after all.
Yes, it would be disgusting. Unfortunately, it's also not uncommon with abusive men, so the question needed to be asked.No, it's not his. That would be disgusting. Though him knocking her around is pretty disgusting, too. Her boyfriend is the father. He's 17 and they're still together. They're both kids. Apparently, Iowa doesn't have any kind of emancipation laws but I will ask. I just have to find one who will talk to me and I don't even know where to start. I mean, do I google Iowa lawyers and just start calling until one of them will talk to me?
I suppose there's a chance that this could make it worse, but not much of one. And, frankly, I don't see what else you can do at this point. Just be very careful about throwing your sister's name around. Until she is removed from the home, she remains extremely vulnerable, and the reaction of an abuser to being publicly called out for his abuse is likely to be worse abuse. We don't want him punching DD in the belly, or simply killing her outright.
Edit -- I just showed this to Roger, who wants to know who is the father of DD's baby? Is it Marty's child? Can DD get child support from the father if it isn't Marty? And does this pregnancy give DD a chance at emancipation??? Ask the lawyer when you get the free consultation. If DD is uncertain, this is what paternity tests are for.
Margret
Luckily he looks really happy about it.
Never having needed one, I wouldn't know. However, since DD is not uncertain, we won't worry about that.Now hold on--paternity tests can be expensive.
I suppose there's a chance that this could make it worse, but not much of one. And, frankly, I don't see what else you can do at this point. Just be very careful about throwing your sister's name around. Until she is removed from the home, she remains extremely vulnerable, and the reaction of an abuser to being publicly called out for his abuse is likely to be worse abuse. We don't want him punching DD in the belly, or simply killing her outright.
Edit -- I just showed this to Roger, who wants to know who is the father of DD's baby? Is it Marty's child? Can DD get child support from the father if it isn't Marty? And does this pregnancy give DD a chance at emancipation??? Ask the lawyer when you get the free consultation. If DD is uncertain, this is what paternity tests are for.
Margret
I'm a little worried about Paul. He just passed up a game of Da Bird to hang out beneath the coffee table - not his usual retreat. When it came time for treats, he ignored them. Ditto with dinner. This is really unusual behavior for him as he is a boy who loves his dinner. Hopefully, he's just having a bad day and will be back to normal soon. :heart3::cross:
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Aww, yes, hopefully just an off day. How do his eyes look?
I sympathize. I hate cold weather myself.
Luckily he looks really happy about it.
Yes, but they have blood ties to the baby in her womb. I don't know about Missouri law, but here grandparents have legal rights, even when the baby is in the womb still.
Maybe he's just cold.
I'm a little worried about Paul. He just passed up a game of Da Bird to hang out beneath the coffee table - not his usual retreat. When it came time for treats, he ignored them. Ditto with dinner. This is really unusual behavior for him as he is a boy who loves his dinner. Hopefully, he's just having a bad day and will be back to normal soon.
Sounds like it's more than time to call them out for it.
Crossing my fingers for you. Bureaucracies are soulless beasts. And there is no bureaucracy like a medical bureaucracy, hiding behind humanitarianism.
Well, I went to the hospital. I first went to the place where I've been making payments--and waited while the only person working the desk did other stuff. (I got the impression that she only helped me because she could tell I wasn't going away.) Then she sent me to an office on the sixth floor--that no longer exists, but someone there was kind enough to take me to the second floor, where the office in question was, who, in turn, took me right back to where I started. And the woman (the very same one!!!) that I spoke to at first explained (not to me, but the woman escorting me) that the hospital has outsourced bills but that I was more than allowed to pay--after I'd set up a payment plan, of course. (and also bull, since I've been making payments--at that very desk!!) She did give a phone number (again, not to me) to the woman who had taken me down there for me to call about this. (Why couldn't she have given it to me the first time we spoke? It's not like I was rude!) Now I'm home and can't find my phone, which means calling will have to wait until tomorrow.Tomorrow's got to be better. I mean, the year has got to get better, right?
You need to take a hot bath. With a glass of wine.
Please pardon this rant.
The night before last there was computer trouble--I couldn't clock in or out (still got my hours down) both the manager and the relief that was supposed to come in at six were late (I didn't get out until almost seven). Aside from the computer problem, the night started out pretty good. (I'm getting very wary of nights that start out too well. It was a full twenty minutes after the person I relieved left that I got a sudden intake of customers--most of whom had never been to our store before. Here's a tip--when the clerk asks what pump number you're on, he or she is not asking to make your life hard. When there are cars at every pump, six of them are white, and they're all the same type (pick-up trucks, for the curious), it's hard to tell what vehicle is yours. Telling the clerk what make and model your vehicle is doesn't help because details aren't visible through the tint of the window from behind the counter!I can't say how many times that happened, and the response was always the same: "Ma'am/Sir, are you sure XX is the right pump number?" ". Of course it's the right number." Not three minutes later, "What's wrong with you? Why can't I pump my gas yet?" Of course they couldn't pump their gas--they told me the wrong freaking number!Then I had a guy come in and ask for a box of Marlboro Menthol Lights. I showed him the box, asked him if he was sure it was the right box (it had a strip on the cling wrap that said it was a dollar off), and he said it was. He bought them, left, came back in a few minutes later, told me I'd gotten him the wrong cigarettes and handed me the box for a refund. Well, while he was gone he had very carefully cut off the part of the shrink wrap that said it was a dollar off, so I told him I couldn't take them back. Then he said, "So I'm supposed to pay for your mistake?"The night went downhill from there. Then, last night, I get in and even though the computer's fixed, one of the coffee pots are broken. (The pot was leaking from the spigot no matter what was going on with the coffee pot.) I fixed it (I took the entire thing apart and put it back together, and I don't know what got fixed, but it's not leaking now), and in the process of fixing it I got several shallow cuts on my right hand. Then, while I was applying band-aids, this wasted woman (she comes into the store about once a month) came in, brought some stuff to the counter, tried to pay (our credit machines were down--again). Well, she acted as if she had paid and waltzed out of the store with her "purchases." I watched her go and my first thought was, Not more paperwork. Please no more paperwork (I'm learning more for running the store). Now, I could have called the cops, reported the robbery, and then called the manager while filling out the paperwork (and the paperwork for for a robbery is obscene--there's almost two and a half inches of it to fill out), or I could use the money AWM gave me for milk on the way home to pay it off and not have to spend who-knows-how-long filling out paperwork and explain the missing money and why to AWM,--or I could call the police.I'm going to try and catch her when SD isn't around (because he won't understand) and explain the missing money. Then this morning I learned two things. One, my manager is going to get together with me and find out just what I've been trained to do (which is going to be interesting--so far all I've been trained how to do is run register, clean restrooms, and gather garbage but I've been doing everything); and Two, we're losing a team member and I'm going to be moved back to full time again. I tried complaining about this to SD (He was the only one up when I got home), but his reaction was, "Great! That means you're a full time employee!" which isn't true. In our state the employer has a buffer zone of time in which an employee can legally be kept at full-time hours without actually being full time, and so far my manager has been able to bump me back down to part-time hours before having to move me up (which include, by the way, a pay raise among other things), Sure, it's temporarily more money, but all I can think of is how I'm going to be able to gather enough energy to look for a better paying job when I'm exhausted all the time again?I know it all sounds petty with everything else that's going on, but it's all piling up and I'm just not getting any down time with SD here. (Who is a source of stress in and of itself. Despite his lecture on how RB and I are frittering away our money--from the twenty the two of us combined spent at the flea market he took us to--he dropped over half a hundred so that he and AWM could eat lunch at Red Lobster yesterday.)
Oh, and one final Note To Self (and anyone else)--a styrofoam cooler does not last very long around cats. Yesterday morning, after I got off work (after almost nine hours!!!), I got a call from home saying the styrofoam cooler had been broken by one of the cats and that I needed to pick up ice on the way home. (When I got home I discovered we still had a bag of ice in the freezer, from my last run.) I can't wait for the new fridge to get here!
Don't give up. If you don't get anywhere over the phone, go back and ask to speak to her supervisor.
Well, I went to the hospital. I first went to the place where I've been making payments--and waited while the only person working the desk did other stuff. (I got the impression that she only helped me because she could tell I wasn't going away.) Then she sent me to an office on the sixth floor--that no longer exists, but someone there was kind enough to take me to the second floor, where the office in question was, who, in turn, took me right back to where I started. And the woman (the very same one!!!) that I spoke to at first explained (not to me, but the woman escorting me) that the hospital has outsourced bills but that I was more than allowed to pay--after I'd set up a payment plan, of course. (and also bull, since I've been making payments--at that very desk!!) She did give a phone number (again, not to me) to the woman who had taken me down there for me to call about this. (Why couldn't she have given it to me the first time we spoke? It's not like I was rude!) Now I'm home and can't find my phone, which means calling will have to wait until tomorrow.Tomorrow's got to be better. I mean, the year has got to get better, right?
Good luck! Feel better!
