Birthday Party for My Child

My son's birthday is coming soon, one of the happiest days in my life, and I am sure his. 

This is also a sad day for us. Since my ex is engaging in parental alienation, his typical tactics of harassment will be to either 1) not let me see my child at all on their birthday (which he did with my daughter this year) or 2) make it as difficult, and painful, as possible to show he has all the power, and then let me visit my children. 

My son loves his mother, little brother and other family members. He wants to come home, and spend time with his family. My son is already thinking of the future, and when he is able to make his own decisions. This separation is only temporary, one day we will be together again. My son just wants his family in his life - both mom and dad. I agree with him. As a child, he should not have to ask or even thing about something so fundamental...that both parents be a supportive, positive influence in his life. Adults should work out their differences privately, and never involve children in their personal issues. Parental Alienation is child abuse, it is very damaging to a child, and leaves scars that last a lifetime.

So I decided to throw my son a birthday part on the blog, to let him know how special he is, and to celebrate his special day. 

Music to dance to.. Bear loves Monstercats so we are dedicating "Birthday Cake" to you. Your little brother is dancing around the house in his "Turtle costume". He is wearing a plastic turtle shell on his back and green underwear with no pants because "turtles don't wear pants!" H-i-i-i-ya!

And here is some cake.... can you guess who picked this out (lol)

Balloons

Presents!!!

I love you Bear, and thank God for you every day! Tu eres mi corazon <3

~ Mommy, JC, and Pets

"I love you. Happy Birthday!" from your little brother, JC

A Mother's Letter to Her Alienated Children

It will be a quiet Mother's Day without my children... another day like so many birthdays, holidays, religious celebrations, family events..without my children.

Parental Alienation or Domestic Violence by Proxy: There is no way you can claim to love your children but at the same time, deprive your children of the benefit a loving, nurturing parent in their lives. There is no way one person alone, forcefully assuming sole custody and control over a child by abusing the legal system or inflicting parental alienation, can replace the love, the skills and abilities, the family history and culture, the God given role assigned to be a mother or a father. Parental Alienation is brutal. It causes lifelong scars. It robs a child of the love and care they deserve, and makes them strangers to their own culture, their religion, their family and all the things family is made of. Even worse, parental alienation causes estrangement, fear and separation between a fit, loving parent and their child.

I will not be with my children on Mother's Day. But it is not my choice. My children were wrongly taken for me. I love my children with all my heart, and would do anything to have them safe at home, and in my arms again. One day my children see the door is open, and it always has been, to come home.

For all the children alienated from your parent, and spending Mother's Day or even Father's Day without that special person... my message to you is that you are loved. Unconditionally loved. Despite the time and distance apart, you are not forgotten. Be courageous and continue to love that parent. When you are hurt or confused or raging, call back those memories... the times you laughed together, the times you were nursed when you were sick, the special nickname you had, the bedtime stories..that is REAL, that is the TRUTH.

Be forgiving, and know that whatever you are being told, no parent is perfect. Before you judge or assume what is being said about the other parent is true, be willing to talk to that parent, and be willingly to examine your own memories and experiences for the truth. The birthday and holiday cards, the photos of you together, the silly games and countless other things that made your relationship special.. all offer clues. Do not lose your memories. They are precious.

Finally, dear children, know that you deserve to be loved, you deserve to have a real childhood and you deserve a life of your own. You do not need to know what adults are doing or why, adults can take care of themselves. You do not need to know personal details about your parent, if it is important they will tell you. You do not need to worry or be afraid, your childhood is a time to dream, explore and grow.

My prayer for your, dear children, is that you are safe, and that you know how much you are loved. Maybe you cannot say what you want to now or show your feelings. Maybe you have to pretend to be someone that you are not. Or you have to do things just to get along. No matter what - you are loved unconditionally; I know who you really are. You are precious. You are held up in prayer. And in countless ways, your name comes to my mind and heart every single day. 

Tu es mi corazon

I love 1,222,222,222,000,000,000 + 0 = U!

Mommy

The Morning of Memorial Day (Memoir, Prose)

Another holiday without my children… another day of silence where there should be prayer, family coming together to remember our fallen soldiers, and those who have served. Another day of emptiness, when there should be the richness of tradition, and patriotism, taught to the next generation. Another tear to shed as the flags wave, as the other families gather to picnic, my family will be torn apart, as will my heart.

Remembering…

On the morning of Memorial Day, my children are woke by the blaring of horns and the screech of a fire engine whistle. They run to the window, their sleepy faces being rubbed awake by gentle sunshine. Below the window they can see Main Street, where the Memorial Day parade begins, the bright red fire trucks leading the way, followed by rows of veterans waving flags.

The community gathers along the sidewalks, cheering and waving small flags. Tootsie rolls are thrown into the waiting hands of children. The veterans proudly wear their uniforms, and are greeted with handshakes or hugs.

Every lamp post and utility pole along Main Street is decorated with flags., the parade begins beneath a banner of stars. The instruments of the marching band are polished to a golden shine, they proudly play patriotic songs steeped in history and memory, stirring our heart with the clash of cymbals, the pounding of drums, the burst of the horns.

Collector cars pass in jeweled colors—jade, golden topaz, ruby and sapphire adorned with graceful fins, chrome wheels, and elaborate hood ornaments.

The Boy Scouts in their blue uniforms march, the Girl Scouts ride in a wooden wagon pulled by a tractor.

Dogs of all sizes stroll down the street, their tails wagging with excitement.

The parade fills our home with cheer, and when it ends I will turn up the music, my daughter tunes the radio to a dance song. The children play as I fry eggs and bacon, every once in awhile I will pop my head into the living room to remind them of what Memorial Day is about. We will pray for the soldiers before breakfast begins, and pray for this country. I will turn off the radio to put in Gospel, so my children can have a moment of reverence.

I hope now my children will remember what I have taught them, and that they always know how much I love them.

-- Daylen Swift

For My Children: Bear and Nora, you are in my heart always. I pray for you every day. And love you with all of my heart. xoxox Mommy xoxox

The Bright Star Next to the Moon (Memoir)

A memory of tucking my daughter in at bedtime:

My daughter was having trouble sleeping, so I put some music in the CD player for her, then turned on her bubbling pink lava lamp and tucked the covers around her. I got a new CD from WIC that was supposed to help babies sleep, so I was hopeful.

The problem?

The CD was passed out for “World Breastfeeding Week” and some of the songs had to do with breastfeeding…

“It’s all about breast milk, better than the rest milk, trickle down…”

“Hey Mom, bring it on…time to breast feed little me, it’s gonna make me strong and healthy!” 

My daughter, then 8 years old, probably didn't fully understand what breastfeeding is but she was totally grossed out anyways! Then she began to giggle uncontrollably. Instead of putting her to sleep with relaxing music, my daughter was WIDE awake. So I crawled into bed with her, and we spent the rest of the night laughing about that CD…she was making silly faces by pushing her lip out and making loud smacking noises. Another round of giggles. I tried to distract her but once she started laughing, she could not stop…and then everything was funny, and she started laughing all over again! She fell asleep that night with a smile on her face.

Every now and then she asks about that CD. I refuse to play it at bedtime (grin).

My baby has now grown into a toddler, he listened to that CD at bedtime today. I gazed out the window at that big star next to the moon and thought of my Baby Girl, how I miss tucking her in at night. I miss the prayers we shared, confiding in Jesus like a “bestie”.  I miss our dramatic Bible bedtime stories. My daughter would act out all the parts in the Bible stories, doing her best to tease her older brother. I miss the pink lava lamp with its half moon bubbles floating in dreamtime. I miss her fuzzy pajamas—flannel sleepers when she was little, how she looked like a pink teddy bear, and felt so warm cuddled in my arms. Now she wears the stylish pajama pants with frogs and hearts bouncing across the fuzzy fabric, and matching stretchy tees. I miss how her mouth moves in her sleep, as if she is reciting poetry. 

I miss making her breakfast in the morning, how she’d laugh about how tiny my pancakes are…they adorned her Winnie-the-Pooh plate like brown islands floating in a sea of maple syrup.

I miss doing her hair in the morning. I miss how I carefully brushed her long locks and passed the straightener through until her hair shone like burnished copper. I miss how she would peer into the mirror, her face pressed close to mine, as our eyes searched each other's reflection. I miss how she would get into my makeup, and chose the bright colors she wanted to wear that day. I miss how she would patiently wait while I applied glittery eye shadow to her almond-shaped lips and strawberry flavored lip gloss to her pouty lips. 

I miss the cute outfits she chose from her closet overstuffed with dolls and clothes, how she stole my clothes or high heels...and watching as this small, chubby toddler grew and grew until she gracefully began to fit into my clothes. 

And I miss bedtime, when we shared our closest talks, and no matter how hard I tried to put my foot down about a proper bedtime, somehow she always managed to stay up at least a few minutes later (or more), often giggling until she finally fell asleep. 

I miss everything about my Nora, and her brother, Bear. And tonight, when I look at that bright star next to the moon, my heart stretches out into the darkness like a comet, sending a hug to my children.

-- Daylen Swift

….Another night missing my children, we are separated due to an unjust (and illegal) custody ruling that is forcing me out of their lives without legal, or other, justification. This blog was created to express my love for my children, and to share meaningful pictures, letters, and prayers. #Grief  #Loss #Noncustodial Mom