Yes...I'm talkin' to you

At some point, I might wonder what forces in your life have made you the pathetic excuse for a mother that you are.

I suspect you'd tell me you were a victim too; that being helpless is so deeply ingrained in your being that you're no more aware of it than you're aware of having to breathe.

Your victimhood just happens.

It's a reality that, for some, precludes any other path, especially the possibility of being able to choose a healthier way of life for yourself and your children.

But, honestly, your brokenness isn't mine to worry about today; not when I've had your 8 yr old daughter sitting in front of me for the past hour, describing all the ways your partner has been sexually abusing her.

Your daughter is beautiful; from the colorful beads in her carefully tended extensions to her luminous brown eyes.

She teased us, laughed with us and, ultimately, had the strength to tell her story in excruciating detail.

Do you know what breaks my heart?

You knew!

She told you - and your response was to tell her 'not to worry about it'.

Do you remember that?

It was right before you bought a 'noisy' bed in the hopes that if/when he got up in the night you could wake up and ask him where he was going.

It was right around the time her older sister promised she could sleep in her bed -with a sheet pulled over their heads, trying to hide them both - as if K-Mart cotton was armor.

Only her sister knew nothing would work - because she'd been through it too with another one of your boyfriends.

All your girls know what it's like - because you've not protected a single one of them.

Four girls - 9 reports of sexual abuse between them in the past 6 yrs.

3 men serving time in prison because of their depravity and, in order to get those convictions, the state made plea agreements for your cooperation, a condition of which was that the kids were returned to your custody...

all so you could sell them out to the next offender who crossed your radar.

I know there are a lot of perverts out there but your ability to pick a rotten apple out of any barrel goes beyond uncanny. Police might not be able to prove that you're deliberately pimping them out, but there's not a single person in the ER who would find it hard to believe.

She wanted to believe you.

As the baby in the family, she wanted to believe that you meant to protect her; that you'd tried and, still, your perceptions are the ones that matter.

When told she couldn't go home, her first response was "My mom was right; I should never have told anyone; my family is going to be ruined and it's my fault. I'm so stupid."

I'm a stranger.

No amount of saying that whoever told her it was her fault was a liar was going to counteract her need and her willingness to take on the responsibility for all the changes facing her family.

You've brainwashed her well.

Drug dealers and sexual predators have 'three strikes and you're out'...

Failure to protect - again and again and again and again - should also be a felony.

You don't deserve another chance.

In all the tales of terror I hear, I try to find one sliver of humor.

It occurred when your daughter was asked if Carlos was your boyfriend.

She replied "NO, he's her husband; he put a ring on it in IL and then she made tamales".

How innocent is that?

Despite all she's been through, nothing says love and marriage like a ring on a finger and homemade Mexican food!

A girl after my own heart.

It would have been more amusing if I hadn't been trying so hard to hold back the tears.