I. Hate. People!

Berylla was fussy because her brothers were running in and out, playing with their friends, and she wanted to go outside too. I usually do not like going out with her these days because I am not very fast (we live on a busy street), and she is. My oldest son said he would watch her and it was about time for Daddy to come home. So I plopped myself out on the front porch and and directed traffic: “Posco,” (my 13-year old on Oct. 12) “there goes Berylla getting close to the edge of the parking lot, get her before she gets in the street. Posco, she ran to the other side of the house and I can’t see her, please get her…and so it went on” My husband came home and I went in and stood inside by the door for a few minutes to go over the events of the day and told Posco “I’m going in for second, watch her,” The usual fun with Berylla is her running around the house and Posco or another brother chasing after her…over and over and over…you get the picture. Toddler amusement.
Before I go any further, I suppose I should describe my house. We live in a largish Victorian house that is divided into four apartments on a street corner. The front of the house has three porches, two in front on either side sort of tucked into the sides of the house for the ground floor apartments (mine is the on on the far right), and one large porch in the middle for the two upstairs apartment entryways. On the right side is a small parking lot for tenants only (and only two of us even have cars) where the kids play. When I went inside, Berylla was there with three siblings and two neighbor kids playing with sidewalk chalk.
At some point the kids, and myself noticed two ladies standing all the way on the other side of the house. They were difficult to see, no, impossible to see unless I walked all the way in front of the house and stood on the side walk and looked at them. I think this is important because if they do not, from their angle, bother to look and see if someone is sitting on my porch, they have no idea if someone is there or not. I had no idea why they were there and thought maybe they were waiting for a neighbor or the landlord because we have two neighbors in the midst of moving. But they just stood there refusing to look up at anyone.
Posco came around chasing Berylla and he stopped to ask me a few questions such as when does school start, what time does he have to get up, etc. etc. Berylla was kind of picking up stones and walking back and forth until she lost interest and started to cross to the other side of the house. As she did that, I noticed a police car pull up to the curb in front of the other side of the house. I thought nothing of it because as this is near a busy intersection, they tend to stop here. Nevertheless, I asked Posco “please go get Berylla before she wanders into the street.”
“Whaaaa?” (remember, 13) (Posco can see her from where he is because he keeps looking up at her)
“Berylla! There. Street! Now!”
“Oh, there,”
So Posco wanders in front of the house and gets her. The police officer stops him and asks “do you know this little boy?” To which Posco replies “this is my sister”. The police officer follows him over to me and I get up.
“is this your little boy?”
I am baffled because Ian is not quite a “little boy”, then I realize he meant Fifi despite the fact she was wearing pink flowered capris, a white gauze peasant top with embroidered flowers, and bobby socks with white Keds sneakers-very androgynous (um, NOT).
“Um, yes that is my daughter,”
“do you realize she just almost went into the street,”
“I didn’t realize she got that close to the street yet, but that is why I sent my son to get her and bring her back here,”
“Well, do you have any idea what child endangerment is? Letting children run around by themselves is not safe!”
And me thinking what happened was he just saved her from running into the street I started to cry and said “I asked him to get her. I’m, well you can see I don’t move too fast, ” (I stop short not wanting to draw attention to my pregnancy and the hwole irresponsible with too many kids thing)… so I asked him…I thought he would get her in time…”
“OK, OK, what’s your name…”
So I give him my name, house number, middle name, phone number, DOB, and he goes back to his car (again, on the other side of the front of the house so I can’t see him, I just knw he is over there). I assume he is in the car doing that thing officers do when they give out tickets. My husband came out and it didn’t occur to me until he stepped out and noticed right away that he was not in his car, but he was talking to the two women. The two women left and the officer came back.
The officer comes back and demands “are you the father?!?” My husband asked what is happening here. The officer said something about Berylla running around unsupervised and almost getting hit by a car. Now I am semi-hysterical and still thinking that when Berylla was in front of the house a few minutes ago, she ran into the street, and that is what all this is about. Later, Posco told me she was just in front of the house, and was baffled why I kept asking him “why didn’t you get her out of the street in time?” My husband, who smells something fishy right away demands “who are those two women?” the officer gets steps back and yells “that was the lady that almost hit your child, but stopped and saved your child’s life! You should be grateful. You need to lose your attitude now!” And you know what? He puts his friggin’ hand on his weapon! I say “Polo, please,”
My husband states “I’m not getting an attitude, but I want to know who they are and what’s going on here”
“Well, it sounds like you have an attitude to me, and I don’t like it.” The best way I can describe it is like the officer’s hackles start to raise. Hand still on his weapon.
My husband says “nevermind” and backs away, but I can see steam rising. Thankfully the officer leaves.
It only hit me then that someone called the police on us, as opposed to what I thought, that the officer was simply driving by and wanted to make sure Berylla was supervised.
Immediately, I call Home School Legal Defense. Our lawyer said that most likely we can expect a visit from a social worker tonight (he doubted it and it hasn’t happened), or tomorrow, but most likely without a warrant. He said if and when they come, do not allow them to enter or say anything to them. Just give them my lawyer’s name and number and they will take care of it. If they do have a warrant, check the warrant, make sure all is in order, and do not allow them to come in until I get my lawyer on the phone..and “don’t worry, you can handle this…”
Afterwards we compared stories. When my husband came outside, he was instantly annoyed because he heard one of the ladies tell the officer “and there was absolutely no adult supervision anywhere!” No one, not one of the kids, not I remembers Berylla running into the street. Granted I was inside for a few minutes, but I also listen out. The front street is very busy. If a child is in the street, there would the sound of slamming on brakes and screeching. If they picked her up, why did no one see Berylla with them? Berylla would have screamed bloody murder had a stranger picked her up. And if they picked her up and brought her back, where did they bring her? To the other side of the house to run back into the street? Down the street? If she was all alone, why would they put her back where she was and not have stayed with her? If they put her back within the circle of her running around the house where was that, that we didn’t notice?
No, these are people who for what ever reason (I have suspicions I will not state here) wanted to make trouble. So many times either kids of my own (every kid has done it once) has run into the street, or wandered off, and that has been the only truly spankable offense. When I have been on the side of the rescuer, I pick up the kid, knock in the closest door and say “your little one was in the street,” The parents are usually grateful and say something about being more astute. Twice I had children who literally escaped out the front door, and I thought they were safe behind a locked door. Same thing, a neighbor rescued them and brought them to me. I was more than grateful. I bought alarms to stick on the door to warn me.
So why they called the police and told them they saw a little 2-year old boy wandering around with no adults, I can only guess at. The reason why I stress the “boy” thing is again, if they were so observant of what was happening, and picked up a child and saved her, how did they not notice the pink flowers and gauze top? But then again, I often notice details like that and people tell me they never see that stuff.
I also think the officer didn’t allow us to address them because in the obvious flaws in the story. However, our lawyer said he should not have raised his voice at my husband and reached for his weapon.
Still, we can expect a visit tomorrow and I am not looking forward to it. I desperately need prayers. I have had a really weird week.