CHAPTER 27: THE OPERA: ACT II, Part 2 [cont.]
From "The Saga of One F**ked Mother"
In this section of Chapter 27, Act II, Part 2 continues. A custody modification trial is allowed due to the flagrant lie that Legion had interfered with visitation which constitutes the required change in circumstance. The truth is she has always complied with every visit. It is obviously a set-up for the custody switch. Legion hires a new attorney, but that one turns out to be just as bad as the first. Meanwhile, Herry gets married and the new wife/stepmother gets in on the act.
The same evaluator who spun the case against Legion the first trial is re-appointed and her new report is chock full of blatant lies, including describing Legion as “angry” multiple times. The judge will not speak with the boys to get to the truth of the matter or to ask their preference, even though they are 14, 12, and 10. That would just be more compelling evidence, along with Herry’s sex addiction and child abuse, that the judge would have to disregard. Legion testifies tearfully on the stand in her defense, suspecting the judge has already made his decision…
In the last section, Legion was awarded primary custody and things seemed to be OK. But Herry got the boys for the entire 1989/90 holiday season and she has to spend it alone, her first of many. To cap off the miserable season, she is told that her job as an assistant Microbiology professor would not be renewed for the spring semester. Meanwhile, Herry’s got a replacement mother in the works.
CHAPTER 27 of Mother-Fucking: The Saga of One Fucked Mother begins with Act I of “The Opera”—from Book 3, the last part of the book. “The Opera” has three Acts with five Parts—one for each of the three Family Court and two Appellate Court trials. Chapter 27 covers Acts I and II: the first two Family Court trials and the first Appellate Court trial. [This is a long chapter and will be published in newsletter-sized bites.]
Dr. Blue’s novel is based on her own experience of the Custody Crisis. It uniquely conveys how Family Court judges are “mother-fucking” women—a form of systemic oppression and violence directed at ex-wives—as protagonist Legion is systematically and methodically deprived of her children and money and reduced to “one fucked mother”.
Chapters are stand-alone interesting so you can begin reading anywhere. A Cast of Characters follows to help readers at any point [on the web page]. All published chapters are included in the Section: “Saga of One F**ked Mother” accessible on the top bar of the home page of Women’s Coalition News & Views. Sequential chapters are published every Wednesday and subscribers will find them in their inboxes, so make sure to subscribe if you haven’t yet!
TEASERS
“CONCERNS PRESENTED by the MOTHER and the CHILDREN” and only included in her vituperative account, a diatribe against me really, at least five direct references [count ‘em!] to anger. Yet … the allegedly professional Ms. Canard gave absolutely no referencing whatsoever at all over to the veracity of “Dr. True’s primary concern.”
Even before opening my ‘witnessing’ mouth to give forth from it ‘evidence’, I saw in daMan’s facial countenance his already decided judgment as he lowered his eyes and looked away from me. I raised a tears‑smeared right hand to make the testimony affirmation of The Truth to … The Court. His court, that is…
CHAPTER 27
Dr. True's Opera in Three Acts—with Five Parts
ACT II, Part 2 [cont.]
Mr. Jazzy Jinx wanted me to remain surreptitiously shrouded. In other words, “Shut your fucking, exasperating mouth, Legion!” No, he did not use the word “fucking”––not right out loud to me. He did not. He did … in characterizing me and to my face most clearly and repeatedly, however … state, as sexist, slurring epithet, … “exasperating.”
Mr. Jinx’s intention for me was obvious. I was to leave very well enough alone all of this information about which László, my new Ames friend, and I were learning. No matter at all that there had been injustices and illegalities. No matter at all that Herry‑Daddee had perped crimes upon me and upon my children. My own attorney. “Again! Again—it is so true: I need to take along a lawyer to go see my lawyer!” I am left believing.
With László’s encouragement and support, I released Mr. Jazzy Jinx from my employ and went attorney‑shopping in the empty‑suits’ district of downtown Des Moines, same area as housed the offices of Herry’s Mr. Shindy Scheisser and where, around any weekday’s noon lunchtime, its equivalent of skyscrapers opened up and spat to the sidewalks below all manner of stuffed shirts and hollow‑hearted hypocrites. First Cousin Wyman had had a lot of lawyering experience here in this quarter, he and his family company having been sued for millions and millions––however wrongly, too––by a corporate and competing hybrid seed corn giant just the decade before. Wyman made some telephone calls and got back to me.
Within the week I was introducing myself to Ms. Carlotta Klutz, Attorney at Law, in private practice by herself with only one office assistant, a legal secretary named Ms. Dee Dee Garnet. I liked the lawyer from what little I could see, but aren’t looks deceiving? I also trusted Cuz Wyman’s contacts, but then of what did they truly know either? Soon László was accompanying me on my trips to visit her. I wasn’t taking along an attorney; but he, the professor, was the next best thing to my trying to make sure that I could figure out what was really going down with Ms. Klutz. And with ‘my case’. A whole ‘nother set of hours and hours and hours, all billable. If these weren’t because of László and me inside her office in person, then I was on the telephone speaking with Secretary Garnet always far more often than I was actually talking with Attorney Klutz herself––all of these calls, however, at long‑distance toll fees either way and, of course, entirely charged to me, too. “Good thing I have no fucking job at which to have to be––what with all of this driving back and forth to Des Moines and the relentless, unending time spent in pre‑Act Two rigmarole! O shit, wait a minute! How the fuck am I, if I’m not teaching nor going to work somewhere else, going to pay for this?! Again?!”
Klutz’s solo law office at its tenth floor height was, however, directly across the street from the gilded and pillared Joseph’s Jewelers’ Building in which, at the very same lofty tenth level, sat Mr. Shindy Scheisser. In a firm comprised of a gazillion lawyers, Hoo‑Hah Scheisser one of its founding partners, of course.
I hadn’t planned this––this geography––but it surely was funny. And about the last humorous thing of the whole litigating opera. “Like two battling barristers in the billows,” I laughed with László. I didn’t laugh long.
Although no longer my employee, I kept close in my cranium Mr. Jazzy Jinx’s dressing down. Men? A man? “Das ist verboten!!!” AmTaham in his impeccable German could have mimicked Jinx’s earliest admonition to me. László was no lover. László was gay. And had long had for himself his own lover of partnering proportions, an equally likable man, Judd, who, in architecture also at the University, had designed and built the country estate upon which for the past 18 years the two of them had resided. Lovely László was also tall. Tall as that precious mountain man, the Chair of the University of Missouri’s Veterinary Microbiology Department––a real switch for me since Herry’s 5’ 6” framework three inches beneath the top of my own! I truly liked walking beside him and what was sweeter, László very much still deeeep inside the closet told me that, Mansfield‑ and Monroe-platinum that I am, Dr. True apparently had the faculty all talking around his Chemistry Department, “My image is soooo improved, Legion, since I’ve been seen around town … with you!”
László and I spent, in fact, the first anniversary of my divorcing freedom out for BBQ at Hickory Park and there planned how to bring up from Des Moines to Ames its own meeting chapter of Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous, László himself regrouping from his loving too recklessly a man who had breezed out of his and Judd’s lives after occupying a place there for eight years in a way Herry would have found, well, … revolting. Pathologist that Dr. Herod Edinsmaier is, he himself is disgusting and revolting and most uncatholically but, indeed, papally, pontifically and piously pathologic about homosexuality. Quite the closet homophobe Herod Edinsmaier is––all the while, however, outwardly and so hypocritically sporting leftist liberal, even sometimes his version of universalist, feminist ideologies in vain, feigned attempts to cloak his true thinkings. I knew these––however progressive the true thinkings of Herry’s so were not––from those nights in that back bedroom on Othello––particularly after Herry had returned from alcoholics anonymous meetings whereat a certain woman regularly attended … and about whom Herod Edinsmaier repeatedly stated to me that he found her … “suspect”. Herry couldn’t––and would not––even utter the word “lesbian”!
I myself never “suspect”ed that this about László would matter. I respected and honored the fact that he and Judd were not out either, even after nearly two decades solidly together, certainly longer in union with each other than Herry and I ever were coupled. But I, then still steeped in this nation’s Constitutionality as if it actually also applied to––and worked for––me, one of us DEhumans, never one time at all worried about László’s homosexuality and his association with me as being “factors” … whatsoever … in my retaining custody of my children. Or, not! I really liked László; and both he and Judd, whom I also liked a lot, so understood my fear of loss. Again.
Two teams’ and three Truemaier Boys’ worth of legendarily fabulous Little League ended and classes for Mirzah and Jesse always commenced right around the date of Zane’s 24 August birthday. This year in 1990, Mirzah had truly enjoyed papermaking –– as in … making it from scratch––a section taken just for fun during the summer school’s sessions offered all the way north uptown again at the Ames High School Art Department. Zane had fired pottery there as well. At the Ames Middle School, Zane then began both his 14th year and the seventh grade over across town quite nearby to Herry’s apartment. The fifth grade that he had already finished at Kate Mitchell Elementary close to our Havencourt Drive condo Jesse now enjoyed. Mirzah was truly pleased with introductory keyboarding given to students in the school’s wonderful Media Center which, over that very 90‑day summertime, had had to be massively restored after $17,000 worth of vandalism to it occurred just after school had recessed the June before, smashed computers and slashed furniture for no known motive other than that having been the twisted behavior of some frickin’ fuck‑ups at the end of the school’s previous academic year. Mirzah’s was now Jesse’s very well‑liked, former teacher in the fourth grade, Ms. Medy.
I managed to keep upbeat and energetic until after all of the Boys’ birthday celebrations and fall soccer had begun and then I felt myself beginning to backslide again, “a slip” it is rationalized away as in alcoholics anonymous but just called being fucked up or, indeed, plain fucked in SLAA. I had no job, no outside money coming in at all, enough from support checks to pay only household bills, put groceries in the refrigerator and onto the table plus keep a mere $15 a month funneling into four different types of dentists’ pockets as well as into the office coffer of Lawyer Carlotta Klutz … And that was that.
So far I really had had no time for a paying job; keeping company with Ms. Klutz and the documents and the paperwork of ‘my case’ again was certainly all of the job time that, alone, I could handle outside of taking care of my Boys and their schedules including Zane’s track and field activity after school in West Ames. Men? Hell, except for László every other Friday usually or our commutes together down to Des Moines to visit there with my attorney, I had absolutely no time for men anyhow. Nor had I one desire to find any either.
But I did need a paying job. And that––and the time for one––I did want.
It was Friday just after suppertime of the weekend in which I had the Boys with me and was on the telephone to Grace from whom we all now lived just two minutes’ jog in the same condominium complex––almost within earshot of a little bit of a yell … if either of us had ever needed to. I was telling her to wish Lionel for me a happy birthday. His, the 10th of September, always came after the Labor Day weekend so it was not difficult to remember plus, now, with our move down to The Teacup Subdivision there and away from Herry’s Othello Drive bachelor pad, all three of her and Lionel’s sons were always either over at our home or my Boys at the Portias’ condo. I knew Lionel’s birthday was upcoming the very next Monday.
Grace’s calm speaking voice suddenly rose, “Turn on your TV, Legion! Right now! Turn it on! Channel 8. Got it?! Who is that, Legion?! Who is that?! Isn’t that Carlotta Klutz?! It is, isn’t it?!
“Om’god, Grace, it is! What the hell?!” The Des Moines television station’s local news broadcasters were recounting––right then and there––about the New York crews in town to acquire documentary film footage of a manslaughter trial which was ending that very afternoon in which a Polk County mother had been charged the spring before in the death of her 11‑year‑old found to be weighing only 44 pounds of which 22 of these occupied the child’s small intestine and large colon, thus, impacting and totally blocking these organs with fecal matter. Petite, freshly bleached and navy skirt‑suited Carlotta bearing a subdued orangish‑bronze shade had just told the reporter that she had been so anxious about which lipstick hue would best match her three‑piece ensemble––given that the 48 Hours’ cameras were pointed at her lips and at her defense table from nearly every angle of the courtroom, a table she, as the charged mother’s defense attorney, had shared with the dead child’s father and his own lawyer there. “O Jesus, Grace, it sure’s hell is! Shit! No wonder I could never, ever reach her. That Dee Dee person of hers was always, always fielding my calls all fucking summer long! Remember?!!! Her secretary?!!! Fuck! I gotta go! I gotta go! I gotta call László and let him know, too!”
Pissed! I was so friggin’ pissed! Justifiably and immediately so, so pissed! I half‑expected my newest employee these past three months’ worth, Attorney Carlotta Klutz’s last statement for the New York City reporter to be something as fruitfully important and profound––it being the end of the week’s evening news and all––as daytime All My Children soap character Bianca Kane Montgomery’s infamously smug retort, “Excuse me, but … I need to go tuck in my Barbies now.”
* * * *
What chanting pentastich, what witchy incantatory verity have I myself, Dr. Legion True, intoned at the very prologuing outset of this entire Mother‑Fucking Saga, “True it is. O, so head‑bangingly true it is! No one else ever thinks that your passions and your struggles are anywhere near as fantastically important as you yourself think that they are. You can write letters to the editor, you can give speeches, even just little, daily ones, to anyone who’ll listen, you can send a passel of e‑mail transmissions to folks who are glad to hear from you and to the ones who never want to hear from you. It doesn’t make a bit of difference.”
True it was and could not have been truer: I and ‘my case’ had not had anywhere near that past summer’s diligent attention of this $125‑an‑hour attorney way down there 45 miles off inside the state’s capital city.
Not once.
Not once had I “made a bit of difference” … enough … to her so that Attorney Klutz—full well paid to do so—had given over to me and to ‘my case’ her thorough and complete attention, so that Attorney Klutz had—at all—expended on ‘my case’ the absolutely necessary preparatory efforts for which she had accepted retaining engagement and hire and was … allegedly … working!
I was fucking stunned. Along with Grace and László and everyone else in on ‘my case’, too! None of us had had one iota of an inkling, not one fucking smelly smidgen, that Ms. Carlotta Klutz was, to the bloody, all‑encompassing extent that she was, involved in this—other—deadly case.
Until that TV news screen just 87 hours before the knocking knell sounded from Judge Sol Wacotler Seizor’s gavel which opened again ‘my own case’, that Polk County situation hadn’t even entered any of our minds since its first appearance in the Register headlines three months earlier. Fuck, I myself couldn’t even afford the newspaper nor the time to read it elsewhere anyhow. Everybody called me the very next day to express their wonderment and concern; we all that Saturday had had no mother‑fucking idea of what was about to foul all over me and my Truemaier Boys with the start of our own disgusting, deadly and solidly shit‑filled impaction: Act Two of The Opera’s Part Two was to begin promptly at 9:00 o’clock, Tuesday, the 11th day of September, one day after Lionel’s birthday. Over a decade before anyone else’s: our very own Tuesday, September the 11th! I did not sleep well that weekend. As anyone who has had loved ones lost because of their own September 11s can imagine, I was not sleeping very fucking well.
As bad? One of the major other reasons that I had fired Mr. Jazzy Jinx had been because of one of the four, named agencies or persons he had submitted “on my behalf”––of which one would be chosen by ‘the Court’ as the custody evaluator for Act Two! That is, another to conduct a second—a second—custody evaluation! I am saying that … Mr. Jinx actually “counseled” me that one of those submitted four should be the name of Ms. Carrie Canard, “Ya’ know, Legion. So’s the judge, whoever that’ll be, can see that between the first trial and this one you’re not much concerned about it, ya’ know. Like you’re confident that no matter who does it, things won’t change. We’ll put her on last, and it really won’t matter ‘cause there’re the three others named on the list here, and “whoever” takes a look at this, … well, they won’t even know. They’ll just pick the first one. Trust me.”
I could hardly believe him. This “advice” certainly went wholly against my gut. Buuuut at the time, he was my attorney, and … I – “agreed” to do – that which he said to do: Childless Carrie Canard’s name went down onto the list! And into ‘the Court’! To daMan!
“A true mother’s personal witnesses such as her family and friends and spiritual advisors and teachers and coaches and the children’s other activities’ sponsors like their piano lesson teachers, even the family and individual therapists whom she chose for herself and the Boys, these people testifying at trial matter not at all, Mr. Jinx!” And, especially for certain, those of this True mother’s. I know this now. All of their “evidences” … well, … they be fucked!
Indeed and of course, Jury, allya’all know, doncha’? You can just tell what happened, can’t you? O JYeah, Ms. Canard was again picked by daJudge … by “whoever” the mother‑fuck he was. And, again, she billed––but for more hours, 15¾. At $85 per each then, the total this go‑round #2 of the Frumpy Mouse’s “industry” came to $1,338.75. Plus the three Boys’ and my time, plus gasoline, plus telephone toll calls and parking fees in Des Moines, plus all of the other change‑around summer arrangements from the 01st through the 23rd, the day before Zane’s 14th birthday cake needed me to bake and decorate it this particular August.
For more hours Ms. Canard charged this time because she had wanted now—and so did have—yet another interviewee. Someone who really, really “knew” my sons and me well and had been a close, close part of our daily lives for a long, long time, of course? Well … not! ! ! The other was none other than the Next Cunt in the Good and Wonderful Doctor’s Stash so in this, ‘my case’, that other was now called Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive. As a matter of fact, Ms. McLive received a passel of Ms. Canard’s attentions including a couple of hours on Jesse’s very birthday day, the 15th of August!
I remember walking out of her office the very last time I ever heard from Ms. Carrie Canard on the 23rd—except for that exact last time, that is, except for her testimony as (literally) mother‑fucking “evidence” at September 1990’s Trial Two, “What will you do if you lose?”
“I shall appeal.”
“O! I don’t think that’d be ‘in the boys’ interest’ at all, ya’ know, to put them through any more stress than you already have,” came Ms. Mousey Frump’s backlashing, fuckly fire right back at me. Ms. Carrie Canard was actually ordering me not to act against what was her mother‑fucking opinion nor against what was about to happen. She already knew. Before any study of hers, any reading and rereading, before any thinking through, Childless Canard already knew what she was going to do to me and to the Truemaier Boys and to write to ‘The Court’, … to daMan. She had already decided that, of Jinx’s things that he’d assured me wouldn’t change, it was her so unlived opinion about my and my Kiddos’ lives that wasn’t going to change. And not only had I lost in Canard’s so male‑identified arena, it was soon to be equally known in ‘just’ whose other similarly identified, sexist arena I had already lost as well.
Just? Hardly. Hardly justice. Hence, my backsliding and the deal that deeper and deeper sleep was now mightily difficult to come by.
Charmed so by Tonguey Herry, Ms. Cherry Canard pulled a truly fast one right off. The very first sentence of her second, subsequent Report, addressing “some important changes in Dr. Edinsmaier’s life,” stated that Herry‑Daddee was “now in a new mothering relationship for his children,” ! ! ! ! … the one that, for the time being at least, “makes him happy!”
So, … in so many—of few—words: of the old one, of the old relationship, of that of The First Family, of its happiness and health … of all of that? All of that … be fucked!
For the women unwilling to become one like himself, to become a consorting homeland terrorist like Dr. Herod Edinsmaier and such other violent abusers, these women are referred to the online resources of some friends of mine: to Floridian and Attorney ms. liz’s web university of www.thelizlibrary.org to Ms Cindy Dumas of The Women’s Coalition at womenscoalitioninternational.org, to Ms Zawn Villines with her “liberating mothers” group at zawn.substack.com and zawn.net.
Fake‑Fuck and Pedophile‑Sponsoring Richard Gardner and his Spurious “Parental Alienation Syndrome” Is Now Universally Foisted By America’s “Legal” System … But Only Upon DEhumans.
But, most importantly for learning and understanding about the essence and being of––about the status and condition of––The First Family. And Why Daddee, Why Patriarchy is Really Behind It All. Behind It … HIS Mother‑Fucking.
Any willing women of Mehitable’s favorite “soft, servile and submissive” genre but unable to get their hands on her textbook could most certainly take their lessons in becoming male‑identified females from either or both Ms. Canard and Ms. McLive. Quite improved might be their lots, particularly monetarily as a matter of fact, if, while in their men’s lives before honing their courtesan skills, they first became thoroughly trained in the complete and utter dissing of the real and true mother of … The First Family.
Ms. Canard, with none of her nor of Fannie Issicran McLive’s life experiences and educations whatsoever akin to ours, began her settled “facts” of the Truemaier Boys and of me to The Court at the very last of her Report. She entitled it, also in capital letters with all other emphases including quotation marks hers and not mine, the “CONCERNS PRESENTED by the MOTHER and the CHILDREN” and only included in her vituperative account, a diatribe against me really, at least five direct references [count ‘em!] to anger. Yet … the allegedly professional Ms. Canard gave absolutely no referencing whatsoever at all over to the veracity of “Dr. True’s primary concern.”
Child custody‑“evaluating,” childless Carrie Canard wrote thusly then, “Dr. True’s primary concern is that contact with Dr. Edinsmaier and Ms. McLive will jeopardize the boys’ ‘recovery’ from what she considers their codependent roles in their father’s ‘sex addiction’ and ‘romance intrigue addiction.’ She believes that her ex‑husband, as a ‘sex addict’, is inherently untrustworthy in caring for their children. She is most concerned about the boys, especially Zane, becoming like their father and engaging in behaviors that she feels are self‑destructive. Dr. True believes that Dr. Edinsmaier reinforces irresponsible behavior in the children. In fact, she cited several examples of Dr. Edinsmaier’s behavior which she feels placed the children in jeopardy by exposing them to sexual addiction. For example, she stated that Dr. Edinsmaier helped Zane order Playboy magazines in the past and has shown the boys materials that she considers pornographic. Dr. Edinsmaier has admitted to her that he fantasized about other women during their marriage. Dr. True believes that Dr. Edinsmaier is an exhibitionist, walking in front of windows with the blinds open in the nude and wearing jeans with holes located in inappropriate places.
In addition, Dr. True is currently angry about the way she was treated by Dr. Edinsmaier during their marriage. For example, she emphasized what she perceived as his lack of sensitivity in accommodating to her hearing impairment. Dr. True is proud of the boys’ respectful and sensitive attention to this disability of hers.
Dr. True is also angry because the boys were not informed in greater detail of their father’s plans to remarry, and she feels that Mirzah is often anxious because of uncertainty regarding his relationship with his father. Dr. True believes that children should be informed at all stages of their parents’ relationships and that children’s feelings and opinions should be of utmost importance in considering whether or not an adult relationship continues.
Dr. True stated that she does not want Zane, Jesse, and Mirzah to adjust to their stepfamily situation because she views it as inappropriate and dysfunctional. For example, she is concerned that the boys are not seeing a healthy husband and wife relationship modeled by their father and stepmother because she views Ms. McLive as ‘servile and submissive’ to Dr. Edinsmaier. She also expressed concern about reports from the boys that their father shows favoritism to his stepdaughter.
Dr. True is angry because her ex‑husband has not paid for the family therapy in a timely fashion. She also believes that he is trying to modify the current custody arrangement solely in order to avoid child support payments, which are currently $1,800 per month.
Dr. True voiced grave concern about this examiner’s ability to assess the family situation from her perspective. She was frustrated with her effects [her word … and not what it should have been: ‘efforts’] to educate the public about addictions.
Zane, Jesse, and Mirzah voiced numerous complaints and concerns about their father, his new wife, and their new stepsister. These points were presented by one or more of the boys during the interviews. They believe that their father just wants custody in order to look good and doesn’t really want the boys. Examples cited to support this point of view included his tendency to not pay for collect phone calls from the boys or for their family therapy with their mother. Closely related are their resentments about the decrease in their father’s attention and time since his remarriage, hostile feelings toward Mary Jane, and anger at their father for not siding with them in arguments with Mary Jane. Their anger toward their father since his remarriage seems to have increased the emotional distance from him and led to more open criticism of him, especially by the older boys. In turn, they are frustrated with his lack of openness in responding to their questions and accusations. They feel a lack of trust in their father for keeping their mail that they receive from their mother during visits. Likewise, they perceive their father’s lack of trust in them that contributes to his evasiveness in answering their questions.
They are also concerned about having to move and to switch school if their father gains primary physical care. Each child stated that he does not want to move.
Zane, Jesse, and Mirzah feel that their mother needs them more than their father does and might be too depressed if they weren’t with her. This sense of worry about the emotional well‑being of the parent was not expressed about the boys’ father, only their mother. They are also concerned that Dr. True would continue Court action if their father gained primary physical care, and the conflict between their parents would only escalate.
The boys expressed concern about losing some of their mother’s attention if she begins to date, as she has indicated. They feel reassured that they will get to determine if her relationship with a man continues or not. In general, Zane, Mirzah, and Jesse were concerned because they often feel that neither parent is listening or attending to their needs and desires, and they worry that the conflict between their parents will continue regardless of where they live or what they do. They also worry about their own potential for developing addictions of various kinds.”
Zane and Jesse then stated to me they never told Ms. Carrie Canard that they were at all concerned about future litigation nor “continued Court action if their father gained primary physical care” but had insisted to her instead that, if he did get their physical custody, then … they wanted me to! Likewise, Mirzah had said only to Ms. Canard that “Mama would be sad and do anything to get us back.”
When Ms. Canard entered her “SUMMARY and RECOMMENDATIONS,” I just had to guffaw! Could not help it! “Ms. McLive was given the MMPI. Her test results fall well within normal limits and present no concerns regarding her parenting abilities.” What the fuck?! What the fuck did Ms. Canard specifically know, let alone, know from the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory, about Ms. McLive’s loooong, longstanding history of panic and anxiety attacks, her bouts by her own admission to me with “severe PMS,” her medical record of morbid and gross obesity—“310 pounds and more,” she herself had stated—and how she was “managing” that by those carving‑off‑the‑fat and stomach‑stapling surgeries she’d undergone, her other innumerable physical health problems, her failure to reconcile with that older, adopted daughter of hers after a probable incestuous attack upon her own person or upon the daughter’s or upon the both of them—after that child, when shortly a legal adult, had married a man of massively questionable and abusive, thuggish repute. A daughter whom none of my own sons had ever even met one time in person then. Or, since. Thankfully!
Of all of the fucking––UNtrue, UNprofessional––things to write about this entirely fucked‑up entity known as Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive, the Next Cunt in Herry’s Stash, “… results fall well within normal limits and present no concerns regarding her parenting abilities” had to be just the most … idiotic imaginable.
I just could not stop laughing … this soon‑to‑be‑Court‑sanctioned idiocy grieved me so.
Ms. Canard continued, “Of grave concern is Dr. True’s vehement position that the honesty or trustworthiness of the children in interactions with their father is not important because he is ‘inherently untrustworthy’ because he is a ‘sex addict.’ This may give the boys the message that integrity is a situation‑specific quality, one that can be discarded with ease in certain justified instances. Dr. True holds the position that the boys should not adjust to the stepfamily situation because this implies acceptance of a dysfunctional lifestyle and places them at risk. Her position overlooks an important developmental function which is to experience various types of social relationships [“ … even ones known to be abusive relationships?!” I query!], learn to function within them, and evaluate them based on one’s own personal experiences. These boys need to have permission from their mother to decide how they feel about their stepmother and stepsisters [plural hers], as well as their father, without pressure from her. Dr. True’s attempt to prevent the development of healthy relationships between the boys and their stepfamily may cause them to question their own perceptions of reality and foster guilt feelings. Allowing such individuation is a difficult but essential step in promoting healthy identity development and social skills in children.
Dr. True emphasizes the need to understand concepts of codependency and sexual addiction in order to understand her family. She seems convinced that any negative consequences the children are experiencing, such as feelings of distrust or anxiety, are due to their father. Unfortunately, the intensity of distrust among these family members has resulted in Dr. Edinsmaier and Ms. McLive violating important boundaries by reading the children’s mail from their mother. This is done with the best of intentions; and while Dr. Edinsmaier appears to have handled his distrustful feelings when questioned by the boys in a way that heightens their anxiety rather than reassures them, he has made attempts to improve his parenting skills and foster his relationships with Zane, Jesse, and Mirzah. However, their resentment over his remarriage and conflicts with their stepsister have left the boys feeling that their relationship with their father has weakened, especially in recent months. The move and space constraints for the boys in the new house fuel their dissatisfaction with their father and stepfamily. Likewise, their mutual animosity towards Mary Jane has served to unite the brothers and to minimize their own differences and conflicts.”
“Evaluating” Canard actually finished her Report with this violent mother‑deprivation mother‑fuck, “The prognosis for a successful transition into the primary physical care of their father is more guarded at this time than perhaps at any time in the life of this family (my italics!). However, based on the information gathered in this evaluation, such a move would be ‘in the best interest of these children.’ While there are indeed aspects of Dr. Edinsmaier’s behavior that must be addressed in his relationship with his sons and there will no doubt be intense conflict in the process of integrating the boys into the stepfamily routine, such a move would provide the children some much needed distance from their mother.”
I say, “She and hers, anything hers including that friggin’ ‘primary concern’ of hers, be … mother‑fucked!”
Whatever makes Daddee, daMan, happy. Daddy the Community Pillar, that daddee.
“One option, rarely considered by this examiner, may be appropriate in this case. If the Court becomes convinced that Dr. True is not likely to change her pattern of interactions with the children and believes that their well‑being is jeopardized by continued exposure to her, then supervised visits with their mother are recommended.”
And for the precious sake of her, the American state government’s, Ms. McLive’s and Pillar Edinsmaier’s all perpetuating the violence of silence and secrecy against a True mother, Childless Canard concluded her aria in The Opera with The Grand Finale of all sentences, “Finally this examiner asks for the support of the Court to ensure that this report is not disclosed to extended family members or other unauthorized individuals. Sincerely,” Signed __ Male‑Identified Frumpy Mouse Canard __ . JYeah, Riiiight.
Trial Two was open and shut … its result.
Case closed. Even before Ms. Carlotta Klutz, likewise liveried as when she had smiled before her Friday cameras but in appropriate black this week, had actually called the first person to witness in front of the same judge, Sol Wacotler Seizor, the one who had sequestered so effectively in that sanitarium for drunks his own first wife––away from her own four babies. I recall hoisting my corpse into the witness stand with orbits blackened from the running mascara, true, but also from the now complete absence for nights and nights of refreshing slumber.
Even before opening my ‘witnessing’ mouth to give forth from it ‘evidence’, I saw in daMan’s facial countenance his already decided judgment as he lowered his eyes and looked away from me. I raised a tears‑smeared right hand to make the testimony affirmation of The Truth to … The Court. His court, that is. It was Friday shortly after 1 pm, and he announced to the assembled which included in the gallery Ms. McLive on Herry’s side and about ten friends on mine that he, daJudge––the same judge as in Trial One was this time … this second time around … not going to hear from and not going to listen to … my Boys.
At all.
Not a word whatsoever.
I shot Grace our all‑knowing, leveled glance between each other. Her lower jaw dropped but just ever so slightly; then her whole head followed in its direction, her eyes never leaving mine. Grace and Lionel did not need to bring the Truemaier Boys over to the courthouse from their respective schools. Not a word from any one of My Three was daJudge going to listen to … in Act Two. Judge Seizor didn’t need not only the Boys’ expressions and declarations and opinions although Jesse and Zane were 12 and 14, and Mirzah was about to turn 11 on the 28th day of September, Judge Sol Wacotler Seizor wasn’t even going to––and did not––direct the court reporter––even just one time––to repeat back to him for his ‘concerted’ study and ‘thorough’ review from that stenographic machine’s multiple strips of hers … any of my words either.
[to be continued…]
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Dr. Legion True: One Fucked Mother
Dr. Herod (Herry) Edinsmaier: Legion’s husband/Sperm Source [“re: I am snide” backwards]
Mirzah Truemaier: Legion’s son
Jesse Truemaier: Legion’s son
Zane Truemaier: Legion’s son
AmTaham True: Legion’s father [Mahatma backwards]
Mehitable True: Legion’s mother [Me hit-able—i.e. she was abusive]
Ardys and Endys: Legion’s sisters [names backwards]
Sterling: Legion’s brother [her mother’s planned name of next son (who never came)]
Mi Sprision O'Revinnoco: Herry’s sister [misprision: concealing knowledge of treason/O'Revinnoco = O'Connivero backwards]
Juggern Aut Misein Edinsmaier: Legion’s father-in-law [juggernaut; aut = 0; misein = “to hate (misogyny)”]
Detanimod Edinsmaier: Legion’s mother-in-law [dominated backwards]
Ava Saffron True and Zebulon True: respectively, Legion's paternal grandmother and her husband, Legion's paternal grandfather
Rowland and Wyman Natures: respectively, Legion's most favored uncle and most favored male first cousin
Fannie Issicran McLive: fawning enabler of ex [narcissi(st) and Mc(Evil) backwards]
Mary Jane: daughter of Fannie Issicran McLive; stepsister of Zane, Jesse, and Mirzah
Legion’s Friends: Margaret, Mona, Yanira, Stormy, Lynda, László, Jane, Kincaid, Joseph, Sheryl
Legion’s Best Friends: Ms Grace and Dr Lionel Portia and Rachel
Wende: = Legion's friend after divorce [committed suicide due to Custody Crisis]
Jim Cornball: Herry’s acquaintance from AA and realtor
Loser Lorn: Insurance agent referred by Cornball
Judge Harley Butcher: Family Court judge
Judge Sol Wacotler Seizor: Family Court judge
Judge Barry Crowrook: Appellate Court judge
Judge Pansy Shawshank: Appellate Court judge
Jazzy Jinx: Legion’s first Family Court lawyer
Carlotta Klutz: Legion’s second Family Court attorney
Shindy Scheisser: Herry’s lawyer [shindy = noisy; scheisser = German for shithead]
Li Zhang: Herry’s Aussie affair
Dr Freddie Goldstein & Ella: Herry’s colleague and wife
Mick: = Herry's acquaintance from high school; best man [not in Herry’s life after that as he had no true friends]
Varry Wussamai: Herry's AA sponsor (not a real friend) [I am a wuss backwards]
David Humes: nursing student; classmate of Legion's, y1968 - y1971, New York City
Edmund Silver: Legion's boyfriend pre-Herry
Braemore St: where Legion and her family lived, y1983 - y1986
Havencourt condominium: Legion's Ames apartment; after separation
Zephyr: tabby cat of Zane's, Mirzah's, Jesse's [pronounced “Zay – fear”]
Rex: Jesse’s pet Eastern Florida Kingsnake, female
Lady: Zane's pet Zebra Finch, female
Madonna: realtor
Larry Brouhaha: court-mandated marriage counselor
Judge Sol Wacotler Seizor: District Court judge on first two trials
Judge Harley Butcher: District Court judge for third trial
Dr. Shark: Herry’s residency supervisor who fired him
Carrie Canard: twice judge-mandated custody evaluator
Author: Dr. Blue, aka Ofherod, BSN, DVM, PhD = Commander Edinsmaier's Handmaid (Commander reiamsnidE's Handmaid)
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