Statement of Psychological Stability in
Orientation to the Home
Docket Numbers XXX-XXXXXX-X XXX-XXXXXX-X XXX-XXXXXX-X
It is so Psychologically un-sound that, that young woman, whom, is my Daughter would not want to come Home, ever again. I have been the center of her vortex, since the day she was born. I had always suspected outside psychological influences, due to her excessively contrary nature, beyond nature.
I struggled emotionally to keep firm, while not being over-barring. I chose to stick to my guns, on her schooling and her chores. By shackling myself to only 2 objectives, outside of normal manners, respect and pleasantries when dealing with the authority figures in our community. And, I taught her to treat her peers as she would want to be treated. The psychology of the mentality to her Society, wasn’t as ‘rock-hard’ and ‘down-right’ cold as teaching her Parental respect, and following orders/requests of her parents. Choosing to ‘Ever-Parent,’ on only 2 objectives minimized the amount of turbulence and arguing in which we engaged, which she swears and believes was every-day. It wasn’t. Cleaning her bed-room wasn’t 1 of the chores. Those were bath-room, Kitchen, and Living-room. There was also an option to take out the garbage and make the beds. I cleaned her bed-room well into her Senior Year. Not that I didn’t hate the fact that she wasn’t doing it, but I learned in the Army to lead by example. I let her know how much time it would take her in conjunction to how messy her room was and I cleaned it with ease and a light-hearted step to the under-taking. I, 1, wanted her to be used to living in a clean environment, 2, wanted her to know, that if it wasn’t drudgery, in her mind, she could do it in no time at all, and 3, that I Love her 1st, in the Universe and that there’s nothing, with-in legal boundaries, that I wouldn’t do for her. Her Senior year she became very objecting, to my cleaning of her room stating that, she, “has to be able to do it herself.” What do You know, she cleaned it 2 or 3 times, the other times I just waited until I couldn’t stand it anymore and cleaned it any-way. While this may seem typical of a pre-adult teen, the way she was raised is nothing typical to the way I and my friends were raised. Certainly not typical, to what I learned in College Psychology, nor to the experience of mine and her peers around us. There must have been outside psychological influences, because of the attention that I gave her, and our Home, our Home, would have to be an irreplaceable feature in any Human life. Let me start from the beginning.
I attended every Lamaze class leading up to her birth, even when her Mother missed 1. I’d speak and sing as well as pray over her Mother’s semi-orb, Baby Home or expansive belly, that is to say, her Spirit Harnesser, while she was carrying our Daughter. I was supposed to cut the umbilical cord for my dedication to the birthing process. I didn’t. And, today I am glad for it because of what I understand is still in the placenta at the time we take it from our Children. There is still, there-in, a great deal of the Child’s vision, both imaginatively speaking, and the physical workings and evelopment, of the newborn’s eyes. The mid-wife did the Honors, while I, in a surrealistic state of Existence, really had no desire to do what I had been working and training for, the cutting of the cord. My Wife at that time, now my, Significant-Other, was a champion to me, far beyond any of the heroines that preceded her, in the way that she handled 15 hours of hard labor, in a natural birth. To this day I try to emulate what she did on that night, whenever I’m confronted with physical pain. Our moment of truth was there. With many pushes, and fragile grunts, I did spy a crowning with black hair, also a kind of gross and initially worrisome tear. Finally, the cheesy covered being was out. She was covered in ‘Vernix Caseosa.’ As I struggled to find
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my place or any place of some assistance, as the mid-wife cleaned my Daughter up. There was, to my concern this little blue body, weighing only 6lbs 14oz. “Why is she blue, is she going to make it?”, I muttered, knowing in my heart of hearts she was going to be fine. Still, this was no time for a male show of cockiness. If the mid-wife expressed concern, I was going to take every consideration seriously. It wasn’t jaundice. Those Babies are yellow. Though, the circulatory system starts very early in mammal’s embryos, the lungs are among the last to develop. No circulatory system is complete without the lungs, and being a preemie her lungs were not up to par and her circulatory system inadequate, so she was in an incubator for 3 days following her birth. I don’t really remember all 3 days, but I do remember my faith in modern technology. I do remember bringing her Home in a swaddle that I, no doubt had wrapped. I had the most secure swaddle in the class, and took every chance I could, at wrapping my new precious package.
So, then she, I, and her Mother developed rhythms, into a developmental process by which, my new reason to Exist, was fed, burped, diapered, bathed and lavishly cared for. I was intensely attentive to her infancy, though in those years, my Gulf War Illness was not medicated other than self-medicating. DCF became involved which is a whole other story, in dedication. They accused me of neglect just because I was self-treating, what no-one had come up with a treatment for. They told my Wife if she stayed with me, she would be charged with neglect as well. Though, I know DCF had their system by which one thing surely gets another, they were dead wrong. That Baby never suffered a moment’s neglect, nor abuse at my hand. The more I medicated, the more I wanted to do and achieve in raising my Daughter. Through, the extreme fatigue and severe diarrhea, when not medicated, made even caring about life at all, near impossible.
I was up with her every night and found that gentle tapping on the bum of her dry diaper was very effective in getting her to go back to sleep. During the days, I was innovating parenthood as best I could, with what I called “Barneystetics,” In which I took her limbs through their full range of motion, daily, so that she would never lose her flexibility. If I held her right foot, I said, “right, right, right,” the same as her left foot with the appropriate terminology. I did not want her to experience the difficulty in ‘right, left’ direction that I had to over-come.
I wanted to start her decision-making process early, so, I would place 2 types of baby-food in front of her and open for her, which-ever she laid hand to first. I continued to do this with several objects, that would all be desirable to her. I encouraged her early speaking ability, with phonetic sounds and short syllables. She spoke her 1st sentence before she was 2 years of age. While bathing her, she pointed to a corner shelf of the tub and said “Put that there,” referring to the shampoo we had been using. I utilized a lot of natural harmonics, and vibrations, many times holding her close to my chest, while I performed deep humming, and soothing tones, so low as to feel the movement in my chest beneath her. She walked early, potty trained early, and knew her Father’s Love from the time her little brain could 1st t form memories. I like to think, that as, I rocked my thinker on what-ever sensation she may find pleasant and stimulating, such sensations may have stimulated an early thought and memory process in her. As she and her skills grew, My Wife and I, started to prepare her for school.
We read to her every night, kept up with educational toys and play, that she hadn’t out-grown yet, we did daily ‘arts and crafts,’ as well as listened and sang her Children’s music. We made songs from the words in her Children’s books, and also, exposed her to our music. A little less head-banging, though. I knew and could mimic her Childhood television heroes from Barney, Teletubbies, and Mickey Mouse, on through the years to Jimmy Neutron, Kim Possible, Hannah Montana, then onto Teen-Titans. Insisting that she learn to pick-up after herself, I had to once, had to hold her hand in my hand, and walk her paper
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to paper, grabbing each, with her tiny hand still in my hand, we then dropped each piece of paper in the garbage. She had become quite apt to battle wills with me. I remember giving her a time-out when she was 3. I had heard the minutes match the years, so her time-out was 3 minutes, in which I had to physically hold her to the time-out seat. She hadn’t struggled as much as she could have or I would have had to hold her in place with my back-side on her lap and her miniature hands in mine, once again. She needed fewer time-outs after that and she didn’t need restraint to take them. Hey? Is that the ‘Unlawful Restraint’ charge is all about?
We started her in, dance at about 3 years old, and I was full of pride and wonder when she once had the spot-light portion of one of the dance numbers. We then introduced her to sports at about 4, with tee-ball then softball. We always insured that she was always involved in extracurricular activities, such as equestrian, swimming, sewing, the flute, and later High-School Volleyball. She always made Honors in her academic life and won the poster contest for the ‘SADD’ ‘Students Against Drunk Drivers’ organization, that she was a part of. We never missed a single event, except sewing where the Parents weren’t allowed. We painted and built crafts only to destroy them with a hammer or fire, so that Mya would not worship objects, and also to teach that she can always make another project. She gladly participated, and with encouraged enthusiasm, as she learned fire safety and respect at the same time. My Significant-Other and I, participated in the ‘PTO’ ‘Parent Teacher Organization,’ where we got involved with the ‘Dazzle Light Parade’ and My Daughter’s as well as my artistic abilities were put to good use. We kept with every parenting initiative that we were privy to. We engaged all of her teachers at the Parent/Teacher conferences, and were always proud, if not down-right impressed by her teacher’s reports of her.
We finally stopped attending these conferences during her Senior year, in the last 2 marking periods, with direct orders from her to lay off, “the school thing.” I agreed to, as long as she was bringing home A’s and B’s, with an occasional C, being acceptable. She actually got straight A’s in one of those marking periods. I, while criticized, in some of her younger years, introduced ‘horror movies,’ which bore no nudity, but had openings to joke about, while scared. I did this, to desensitized her fear factor. She watched only 1 of them at 1st and only with me. It was “The Alien vs. the Predator.” In her teen-aged years she became a ‘horror movie,’ connoisseur. She and 4 to 5 friends frequented their uncomfortable but harmless ‘horror movie’ obsession every weekend, and even school nights, when their Parents let them, in our, ‘or more their’ living-room, on those nights. Then the 4 or 5 girls would all sleep over, and my Significant-Other and I would cook them all breakfast to order in the morning. We often bought pizza, ‘arts and crafts,’ pumpkins for carving, we also, with their Parent’s permission took them out to restaurants, and other Family outings such as bowling, laser tag, Six Flags, Naskart, as well as Family vacations. My Daughter was always allowed to bring a friend or 2, or 3, or 4. We Love the other Girls as if they were My Daughter’s Sisters and get along well with all of their Parents. My Daughter became very conscientious about animals and decided she should be a vegetarian. We commended her decision to be pro-active about her beliefs, though we were quite comfortable eating meat. So, for 2 ½ years we made 2 of every meal, hers vegetarian and ours omnivorous.
Then came BOYS. Actually, for My Daughter there was only one. He was her 1st boyfriend and they dated for over a year, which did lead to a nasty break-up, because, in my opinion, he was a little too possessive for my G.I. Jane Princess. We still get along and talk to his Parents as well as him. My Daughter’s an adult now, by legal age only. She’s still, got so much to figure out about her Country, her World, our Technology Age, and most of all, herself. I’ll have to cut this night’s work on this statement a little short, because after moving back to the house and transferring from Eastern Connecticut University to Quinebaug Valley Community College, she went up to Main with her new boyfriend, only the 2nd
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boyfriend in her life, in pursuit of his new job. To the surprise of us all, she just walked in the door with said boyfriend. We had not known if she was going to be Home for Christmas. Santa couldn’t have done anything better, than that couple being Home for Christmas, if he had all of the World’s resources to do it. Her boyfriend is done with the pursuit of this recent job and off on another. I mention every truth of happening in the short familiarizing of my Daughter’s up-bringing, only to point out to any reasonable mind that there is no sound Psychology to explain my Daughter’s willingness to never return Home with-out the inclusion of (an) out-side influence(s). I am a semi-educated man with the highest marks in my college at one point or another. There is nothing I’ve observed in my keenness to Sociology nor in my college acquiring of Psychological Dynamics, that could explain both, the severe emotional distance and discountenance, coupled to the Infinitely, Eternally deep emotional attachment that my Daughter has for me. I learned in Psychology and it is reasonable, that we can-not perceive beyond our perception of self. We have no ability, perception, dis-ability, nor deficiency that isn’t ours, induced or un-induced. I engaged the fight, with ‘tranquil ferocity,’ ‘stifled hostility,’ and ‘peaceful resolve’ to this out-side influence, touching nearly every part of my Daughter’s up-bringing, while knowing that I could not see the other influence, but only my Daughter. I simply refused to let go and let god, or whom-ever that may presumably, perceivably be. It is this tenacity, refusal, and the most dedicated, and committed Love that our Universe has to offer, that explains the Infinite and Eternal Love, but it in no way sheds light on what must be an outside influence.
I know only what I know, and though I’ve been with the same Significant-Other for 31 years, Psychology says that I can-not possibly know of her influence on our Daughter, out-side of the visibility of my own singular World. Anything that I indicate about my Significant-Other’s influence, with-out 1st hand, 1st sight knowledge, is simply a guess. It may be the most educated, over 31 years of learning, guess, but never more than an educated guess. If the knowledge is not of 31 learned years, the guess is that much less educated. I have fought what they coined in college, “The War on the Home.” I have fought it over-seas, and I have fought it domestically. It is the failure to keep the 1st , 2nd , and even 3rd , American Homes. It’s my Nieces and Nephews having 5 different Children with 5 different partners, most fighting to stay out of jail or working 3 jobs to make ends meet.
In the Military we used a Phonetic Alphabet, where an easily recognized word represents each character in our alphabet. These that follow represent our American Generations/Progenerations/Posterity. We are in Generation ‘X’s and ‘Y’s, failure to regain the selfless Love of our Children and mates/partners. It is the failure of all Generations, after Generation ‘W’ or ‘whisky,’ to hold on to their own Children and not have them raised by others. It is the brutal hate, in which, Generation ‘V’ or ‘victor’ established in keeping the appearance of Home no matter the cost in the Home. It is the women of Generation ‘U’ or ‘uniform’ going out to work, and leaving the Parenting Post un-manned. Mine is Generation ‘X’ or ‘x-ray,’ with unknown, unpredictable, and totally un-motivated productivity after the likes of ‘uniform,’ ‘victor,’ and ‘whisky.’ Some say we have no leaders in Generation ‘X,’ no followers as well, a Generation lost. I am a leader for Generation ‘x-ray.’ And, our calling after, ‘uniform,’ ‘victor,’ and ‘whisky,’ is to recall the American Home. My Daughter is Generation ‘Z’ or ‘Zulu,’ and it seems we’ve run out of letters. I fight now and have fought since she was born, for her independence. In this Age, it is the same as fighting for, the American Citizen’s, the State’s, and, the Countries Independence. With the recognition of my ‘Individual Rights,’ to LAW, at all times. We pave the way to, renew, regenerate, and progenerate, a new Alpha-bet. And my Daughter’s Children, will be informed, educated, liberated, and leaders of the World, as our Fore-Fathers and Mothers intended.
If the charges against me are not dismissed it will set or uphold a precedent, in this, our Technology Age, and possible outside influence of my Daughter, for dependence and slavery to technology for all races,
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ethnicities, religions, and creeds. Your Honor, please dismiss all charges against me and uphold the Individual Right of every Parent to correct their Children and defend themselves against false accusation before their incarceration.
Thank You, Your Honor,
Xxxxxxx Xxxxxxx Xxxxxxxx
Signed: ________________________________________________ Date: ________________________
Until next time, keep your homes well.
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