2nd Page of Bassette Story

Each weekend in December I allowed my daughter to spend with her father in order to appease him and hopefully stop all of the phone calls and otherwise harassment. It didn't work. He continued to bad mouth me to my daughter causing her and my relationship to deteriorate further. I wouldn't discuss the situation with her and this was making her angry with me. Following her first weekend staying with him in December, she ran away from home because I wouldn't let her take care of her baby sister – I told her it was my job and to go play. The second weekend she drew the pictures. The third weekend she was with my family. The first day of school at the end of break, she refused to go. The following weekend she again went to her father's.

I became extremely ill with flu that weekend and could not reach anyone in the family. I contacted my daughter and asked her to come home to help out with the baby because I was so sick. She refused. I later found out that her father had told her (although he had told me the opposite) that he wasn't going to bring her home because it was his weekend. When she did come home I had my sister on her way to pick up my baby so that I could get some much needed rest. Little did I know that I had fibromyalgia (recall muscle spasms) and the flu was seriously complicating this disorder that is brought on by stress. I could barely stand, was having severe chest pain and collapsed twice in front of my daughter that evening.

After my sister had left with the baby my daughter began yelling at me that she was going to live with her father. I (in a firm voice) told her that our neighbors did not need to listen to her yelling on a Sunday night at 7:00. I also reminded her that she had a probation hearing scheduled (for running away) the following Tuesday and that her probation would last one year. I explained that her father lived in Cuyahoga Falls and that her probation was in Stow. I told her, "As soon as you clean up your mess in Stow, go live with your father, no one will stop you." You see, before she had left for my mother’s this had been a constant threat from her. Upon her return, she and I together decided that she would wait until summer break and go check it out before deciding. I then, with tears and in severe pain, told her that I was much to sick for the "home from dad's attitude" and begged her not to continue. I then told her to leave me alone and went to bed. I came out later on for a glass of water and collapsed at the kitchen sink. She came and stood over me with her arms crossed. When I asked her why she was standing there looking at me that way, her response was "I don’t know if you need help!" I told her to get away from me. She stomped into the living room and plopped onto the couch. I held onto the counter, stood and made my way down the hall. My shoulder accidentally hit the doorframe, as I was very weak and unsteady, and I dropped to the floor again, this time with chest pain so bad that I could hardly breathe. The phone began ringing and I cried out "Answer that! I have to talk to them! It’s in my room, next to the bed!" I was seriously considering going to the hospital and wanted someone else’s opinion. I was getting very scared from the chest pain, but I’m not one to take myself to the ER unless there’s a very good reason for it. She took the phone into the bathroom and locked the door, leading me to believe it was one of her friends. I lay on the floor crying and waiting for her to finish on the phone so that I could call someone for help. When she came out of the bathroom I asked her who it was. Here it had been someone for me and she had told them that I was "busy". I told her that she really didn’t understanding how sick I was and practically crawled back to bed.

Madame/Sir, I swear to God that what I have told you of this night is the absolute truth... no more, no less.

The following morning we stayed away from each other and she went to school. Nothing was said as I did not want round two. Shortly after she left, my sister called to tell me that she had to bring Miah back because she had been called into work. When she arrived I had her go to the store to get me medicine for pain, Stewart's root beer for my upset stomach and chicken soup. The baby did not go down for a nap that day until nearly 3:30 in the afternoon. I had childproofed my bedroom and had placed a cooler next to my bed with her formula in it along with toys and her feeding chair. For the most part, we stayed in my bedroom with the door closed that day. The few times I moved to the couch, it was because she was fussing to get out. She was a very active and inquisitive baby. She is still this way. Needless to say, dishes did not get washed, video movies were strewn onto the floor having been taken from the bookcase by the baby, dirty diapers were left wrapped next to the couch and cookie crumbs littered the carpet. (I gave her vanilla wafers to appease her when she got fussy.) Houses get messy when the mom is sick is all I have to say about that.

When the baby laid down for a nap, I too laid down. I was desperate for rest by this time.

I am crying as I write this next because the following events have completely devastated my family. We live in hell from this day on.

I woke to the light from the hall shining in my face and Megan whispering to me, "Mom, come talk to these people." I asked her who was here and she responded whispering, "Just come talk to them." She was acting very strange and I couldn’t understand why so, because I could hear people talking quietly in my living room, I called out asking, "Who is in my home?" I did not get a response and asked a second time. Again I received no response. My first thought and by the way Megan was behaving, I suspected that she had let Jehovah’s Witnesses into the apartment. I had to hold onto the wall to make my way out of bed. As I came around the corner of my bedroom into the hall I saw two Stow police officers and another man standing by my dining room table. "Oh my God! WHAT HAPPENED?" I asked as I held the wall to walk toward them. One of the officers responded that the school counselor had contacted them regarding allegations that I had been discussing with Children's Services. (She contacted CSB. The police were there only because they had to bring her home as the caseworker was not permitted to.) Being as how my daughter had just spent the weekend with her father and brother I asked, "Oh my God, what did Chris do now?" (Otherwise, why would police officers be here?) "Not Chris ma'am, you." "Me? What are you talking about?" I was then told that my daughter had told her school counselor that she was afraid to come home because I had been abusive with her the night before. I took one look at my daughter, now hiding behind the other gentleman and crying, and said, "Well you've really hit the ball out of the park this time." I was then told by the police officer that CSB wanted me to sign a "Safety Plan" stating that "(I) would not raise my voice to my daughter". My response was, "If she is that afraid of me and that unhappy here, then she needs to go with you." The police officer told me that I didn't understand; that they weren't there to remove her, only to get the "Safety Plan" signed. I reiterated my stance and we proceeded to go back and forth. I then contacted my mother and she spoke to the police officer asking that my daughter be taken to her other grandmother’s house and I heard him repeating the address. When my mother and I hung up, I asked the police officer if he intended to arrest me. He said, "We have no reason to arrest you." I said, (herein lies my huge mistake…) "Then you need to take her and get the #*@$ out of my house!"

Five and a half hours later, at 11:30 pm the Stow police broke down my door, five police officers surrounded me and they took my baby claiming that "the way that I reacted earlier, when they brought my other daughter home, had led CSB to believe that my baby was not safe with me." CSB was not there and they were doing a juvenile rule six. September of 2003 CSB was granted permanent custody of my now almost four year old daughter, Miah and my now thirteen year old daughter, Megan has been permanently placed. She is placed in a non-relative home because no one in the family is willing to put up with her. CSB is calling it a relative placement although the relationship lies between my daughter and her stepsister. The actual caretaker has no relation.