Peace and Prayers!

Received from BD this evening ...

As I may have mentioned, he had a job lead, and he has secured it. In his email he provided his employer details, indicated that he had contacted the Office of the Attorney General to inform them of his new employment and to request they forward the appropriate paperwork for child support to be deducted from his payroll. Good start.

Then he drops this bomb:
"I also wanted to inform you that I have secured the legal services of [Law Office]; my attorney's name is [Jane Dick].

I believe it would be a good time to begin cooperating (as I have suggested) so that we can move forward with effective co-parenting. We can discuss this more later, as I need to get running in order to make it to [child's] sport practice.

However, I would like to point out that my attorney has informed me that you are in violation of the decree in demanding supervised visitation. It's not fair to [son], to me, to the one's having to supervise, and certainly not to you to have to feel like you need to be in absolute control of everything. Will talk soon.

Peace and Prayers!"

First, the current decree in place indicates that his access to our child is "as agreed upon and arranged by [me]." I'm not agreeing to unsupervised visitation at this point, so ... try enforcing that. Also, he is actually in violation of the decree because he is behind on court-ordered child support.

My basic response to his email was that I anticipate our attorneys will soon be in touch.

And I can't tell you how friggin sick I am of him ending all of his messages with "Peace and Prayers!"

Like most addicts in recovery he's clinging to religion, certain the Lord will make everything ok. There's a saying ... "God can give you a boat, and he can give you oars, but you have to ROW."

I am glad he's doing his part, but based on his history, I'm hopeful the court will put temporary modification orders in place that will require him to have random drug/alcohol screens and earn additional access to our child over time. He can't just show back up five years later, with no repercussions for his actions over the past decade.

Crap, maybe I do need to pray.

Angry all the time

"Sometimes I don't know why this old world can't leave well-enough alone," Bruce Robison.

Scratch that

So after being told that my ex would NOT be served Friday, that it would be Monday ... I got a call after 5 p.m. Friday with a voice message saying that he had been served. The?

I think my reaction (surprise!) may have been worse than his. Or maybe he wasn't shocked or surprised. I don't know.

I just do know this shit is hard, and I'm tired of being mad, but I don't know how to be anything else.

Now we wait for 20 days for him to respond ... maybe he'll get an attorney. Really, I have no idea what to expect. But I need structure. And I need to say NO more.

And I need a nap because I woke up every hour last night, and it's been an exhausting Monday.

Also, I fear this is only the beginning, but I hope things get better/easier soon.

A Friday better than Good Friday

I'm not as mad today. Fridays are good like that. But I am curious to see if the attorney gets our motion and petition to the clerk's office today, and to see if BD gets served today.

I'm also anxious to see how he responds.

Blarghity, blargh, blargh.

I think I will go shopping after work. I'm a firm believer in retail therapy.

UPDATE:  There will be no serving of the papers until at least Monday. So, really, it's probably better to start the weekend off this way anyway. Just another reason to hate Mondays, eh?

How many absentee fathers does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

For someone who likes structure? Why do I struggle so much with boundaries? I think it's because I've had a lot of experience attempting to establish them with people who just continuously ignore me. While my ex-husband is following the rules, for now, regarding my son, he's pushing other buttons, and it certainly feels intentional.

For example, I requested he make any visitation requests one week in advance. He can ask; I can say yes or I can say no, but in order to answer him? He must provide oh ... the obvious things ... like who's accompanying him (aka supervising), the date, the time, where they plan to go and what time they plan to return. If I'm given that information, then I can make a decision.

He has been asking me all week if he can have some time with our son after this weekend's soccer match. He said his cousin is going to supervise -- she has two kids, my son will enjoy seeing them, blah, blah, but ...

WHAT TIME? WHERE ARE YOU GOING? WHAT TIME ARE YOU PROPOSING YOU RETURN HIM? These are the details I waited for him to provide. But instead? He just continuously texted ... "Let me know about Sunday so I can plan accordingly."

What the hell am I supposed to let him know about Sunday? Dude, step up, create a plan, and then I'll let you know if I think it is OK or if I am not OK with it.

Doesn't seem that hard, right?

Why is it my job to "let him know about Sunday?" I don't know if he's expecting me to plan his time with my son for him ... actually he probably DOES sort of expect me to do that. And I'm sorry, it's not gonna happen.

It's like, how hard is this, dude? He had me in a rant this morning before I even got to the office. Because I (set a boundary and) told him not to text me during office hours, so he sends emails to my home email account. OK, fair enough. I need to make sure I don't respond to them during business hours. And maybe I shouldn't read them in the morning either.

And the other thing he asked about (I literally received a half dozen emails from him this morning) ... um, yeah, he wants to know when he should expect to hear from my attorney because he really wants some change to the current system and the sooner would be better, he claims, for the boy (i.e. him). He doesn't want to confuse my son ... trust me, there's no confusion on my son's part. He knows daddy's in town; he gets to see him; but mom makes the rules. The kid understands better than BD.

But wait, go back to what he actually ASKED ...

I'm sorry, did he really JUST ASK ME when MY ATTORNEY will be doing some work for HIM or his benefit?

LORD. If he was so concerned about the current decree status, which basically says he can access and visit with the boy as "arranged and agreed upon by" me, then why didn't he hire his own damn attorney?

I sometimes think he's more interested in bugging the shit out of me than he is in actually seeing his kid. The guy just blows my mind. How many emails did it take to clarify what his request was for Sunday?

And I didn't answer his email about the attorney. He should be careful what he asks for ... he's hearing from the attorney real soon ... the plan is to have him served papers tomorrow.

However, it will take about three weeks before we can get the case moved to the local county court, and we'll be working on the modification of possession and access, and in the meantime, he's going to have to deal with the way things are now. And since I'm the CEO of this bitch, he's going to have to comply to the tough tasks of fulfilling my requests that he provide the details of his proposed visits a week in advance.

Just wait until the court requests drug and alcohol screens before he sees the child -- and at his expense. He thinks it's bad now? That I'm inconvenient? He has no idea.

Yes, I am pissed at him, at his invasion. But I promise, the modification order is being put in place to protect my child first and foremost, to provide some structure and take the responsibility off of me, and to actually provide the jackass a path he can follow to eventually gain more access. I don't know if he'll see it that way, but I also don't really care.

EXCLAMATION

So ... I stopped by the law office this morning to drop something off, and there's just so much information I'm trying to wrap my head around.

We're going to request to move the case to my current county of residence (which differs from the county in which the case was closed previously and in which I resided six years ago), so I thought that would take a few weeks and well, I didn't think any papers were going to be served for a couple of weeks -- after the case was transferred.

That's what I was told this morning; I kind of liked that idea.

While I was in the ladies room at work, "HolyFuckingShit," shot out of my mouth when I read the email. The words shot, like a Tourette's bullet, and I almost dropped my mobile, like the first time I fired a gun.

The email stated:
"I was incorrect in telling you that the Petition to Modify would not be filed until the case is transferred.

We are filing the Petition to Modify at the same time we file the Motion/Order to Transfer Case. Therefore, [BD] will be served this week!"

That exclamation point? That's the paralegal's exclamation point. Which MUST mean EXCLAMATION.

I think. I'm no paralegal though.

Whatever the words, they come true

CRESSIDA TO TROILUS: A GIFT
By Margaret Atwood

You forced me to give you poisonous gifts.

I can put this no other way.
Everything I gave was to get rid of you
as one gives to a beggar: There. Go away.
The first time, the first sentence even
was in answer to your silent clamour
and not for love, and therefore not
a gift, but to get you out of my hair
or whatever part of me you had slid into
by stealth, by creeping up the stairs,

so that whenever I turned, watering
the narcissus, brushing my teeth,
there you were, just barely, in the corner
of my eye. Peripheral. A floater. No one
ever told you greed and hunger
are not the same.

How did all of this start?
With Pity, that flimsy angel,
with her wet pink eyes and slippery wings
of mucous membrane.
She causes so much trouble.

But nothing I ever gave was good for you;
it was like white bread to goldfish.
They cram and cram, and it kills them,
and they drift in the pool, belly-up,
making stunned faces
and playing on our guilt
as if their own toxic gluttony
was not their fault.

There you are still, outside the window,
still with your hands out, still
pallid and fishy-eyed, still acting
stupidly innocent and starved.

Well, take this then. Have some more body.
Drink and eat.
You’ll just make yourself sick. Sicker.
You won’t be cured.