Real Life Math

  Cops across the nation have had unprecedented access to the life Isaac and I have led since day one. A simple mathematical calculation of 24 hours per day times 365 days per year times 10 years equals 87,600 hours of video of our life.

  During that time we have lived our daily lives. Took our daily walks. Isaac had his daily nap right up until five years old. We mulled the decision on when to allow technology into our lives - knowing that when it did invade it would be impossible to retreat from its' use. And in the meantime, I relished every single moment of our daily-ness. Letting the puppy out with us to run over to the pile of dirt that construction workers had left on the lot next door - to let Isaac play king of the mountain and laugh at Tink trying to join in. It was just days and days of nothingness and everythingness all mushed up into the most wonderful oneness. I wouldn't trade anything for the memory of our days of nothingness-wonderfulness.

  For I remember them. Every single one of them. All ten years. The hugs. The multiple kisses I gave my cupped hands, then blowing them real hard for dramatic effect, sending Isaac into giggles just before his nap. To show him that just one kiss was not enough. To leave the living room curtains open just a bit as he slept on the sofa, even though I was certain there were cameras somewhere in the house, just to be sure everyone could see us. To prove to them I am a good mom. To prove to them I am not like those who raised me. After all, why else would they have watched since day one? If they had not already decided in their minds what they thought our future held.

  But I didn't need the cameras. To me it is a point of honor. My child's birth mother lives half a world away in Guatemala. But she can rest her heart in the knowledge I treat Isaac with all the love I'm sure she feels. Every single day.

  And they were there every single day too. Forgetting to turn off their cellphones and probably almost dropping it when it rang right over our heads in the living room. Tripping over a beam in the attic and falling. Loudly. Twice. You ok dude? Eating fast food egg sandwiches even Isaac could smell, despite the fact I hadn't cooked eggs in two weeks at the time. Following me down the hallway over my head, which yeah, I can hear. Smashing into the side of the house countless times to gain entry - making my dog freak out and run in that direction barking.

  So they were there too. Constantly. Obviously an invasion of privacy of historic proportion. But I didn't stop them. I didn't limit their access. Because really - how do you stop anyone from watching you? So I knew without a doubt our every move was monitored. The number of endless hours, weeks, days, months, years can easily be calculated.

  What I can't calculate is why they then decided to take my healthy, happy, obviously thriving son and destroy his life.