So Mad on Sunday

Last week, I was all encouraged and hopeful and ... foolish.  In terms of momma getting her girl back, I was all, "I really hope that she does!  I really think that she will! This makes my heart so full to think about." I thought we were working with a fresh start for Angelique after rehab. 

This week?  Not so much.  This week she has been disrespectful of our time, dismissive of her chances to see her daughter, and unresponsive to our (and DCS') repeated attempts to contact her. This week she is MIA again doing who knows what who knows where. 

Last week, she met up, was present, was prepared.  Last week she asked for more time with baby.  And I made myself available for an extra visit on Thursday.  A visit for which she never answered and never showed and only bothered to text two lines after the meet time to lightly say, Sorry I can't meet, kiss my baby for me and tell her I will see her Sunday. 

And you know what has come of this week already? It is Sunday and Momma has not responded to any of my texts all weekend.  Her once a week visit time with her child has come and gone and we STILL have not heard from her.  This week is a far cry from last week.  More likely, I was just all dreamy-eyed and naive last week and this week that idealism is crashing into the brick wall of reality and brokenness. 

I am so mad, I could scream.  I am so mad, I could shake her.  I am so mad, I can only cry in frustration.  I hate this feeling of disappointment.  Lasa deserves better than this.  I hate this, this brokenness that I can't fix or demand better from. 

Just so mad.  For comic relief for anyone interested, Josh is cool as a cucumber about it and that makes me even madder.  HA!