I have to stop NOT eating breakfast! Lunch was the same as yesterday - bagel cream cheese and smoked salmon (I think I was Jewish in another life).
My work computer has a virus and let's just add that to all the other stress. I am not going to bore anyone with my problems but frankly, if you don't want to read about them, click off the page.
See here's the situation: My ex owes me just of $5,000 for divorce related stipulations. Never going to see it. But as a result of his failure to uphold the near 12 year divorce stipulations, my entire income tax return EVERY YEAR pays for my son's 10 weeks of summer camp which I have fill because I have to work. No choices there. So here's my dilemma: I am in over my head financially but on the flip side, all my bills are current, my phone never rings from debt collectors because no matter what, I pay my bills. I need about $20,000 grand and half of that would pay off the debt. Yes, I know many people would KILL to have only 10,000 in credit card debt but to me, it's like sleeping with Mt. Everest every night and walking with it hanging around me neck during the day - it's always there and it's huge and there's no room for anything else and I am nearly bent over broken from the weight of the debt.
So my town's summer camp signup is on Feb. 16th ish. I do not have the funds to sign my son up for six of the ten weeks I need because I won't have my tax return in time. I CAN get on the waiting list but it's not a given he'll get in. But even then - once again I use my entire tax return to fund his summer camp (my ex is supposed to be paying half but he's been AWOL for more than a year coz he's just a complete and utter dick) and my Mom is showing early signs of dementia (she's nearly 81) so I can't ask her and I shouldn't have to because I should be taking care of myself and my son but after being so long in this awful cycle of financial poverty it just seems like there is just no light at the end of the tunnel.
So 20 grand is my contingency plan because believe it not, that would last me a long, long time. i've become so accustomed to scrimping and I could probably stretch what is left over after paying the debt off for two years! If my ex croaks (not that I wish it on him as much as I despise him), I get half of the life insurance policy because he remarried and named her as a second beneficiary. I'm sorry if this sounds cold but my son was here first, she was an illegal alien when she married my ex and she could give a shit about me or my son (not that I expect her to care about me but she thinks my son is a financial burden to her own life. I have a word for her but I won't write it on here coz I do possess class. but it doesn't mean that I can't think it out loud.
So dominoes are stacked and are getting ready to fall because since I don't have the $$ for my son's summer camp, and I don't know anyone rich from whom I could borrow the 20 gs (a no interest loan, payable upon my inheritance but with a good faith payment each month - that's all I can do truthfully and I know it seems so impossibly naive for me to think that someone would help but shit, you know what? I don't care anymore. All I care about is taking care of my son. So if no summer camp, then I have to resign from my job in June, collect unemployment and stay home with my son all summer. While the "idea" is actually appealing, it's not reality because I live paycheck to paycheck and hold my breath every time I check my bank account into which my child support is deposited. i don't trust my ex. But I remind myself that he chose to take himself out of his son's life. I've been in this mother thing since the day i found out I was pregnant. In 150 percent.
But I just keep asking myself is this all there is? Those knights in shining armor? I'm not sure they exist. I remember reading a story a long time ago about a single mom with a child - her name is Diedre and I know her daughter has special needs) who met Albert Pujols (the major league baseball star) and she was struggling and living in the same kind of financial poverty and she ended up marrying him. But she was young and beautiful and I'm old and somewhat attractive I guess I don't know but do you think something like that could happen to me? Nope. I dream of meeting someone with money but more importantly - someone I really like, that my son likes, who would like BOTH of us and perhaps fall in love with BOTH of us and vice versa and basically tell me I would never have to worry about paying for my son's summer camp expenses again.
but who am I kidding? ME LOL!!!! The one time in my life I was lucky was when my son was born. I read stories about bank robbers who have won the lottery and then I read stories about people who have won the lottery and have gone bankrupt! That's insane beyond all comprehension.
I can't help think of that song from the 70s I think called "What About Me?" It was a one hit wonder. But I ask that question over and over.
And let's add worrying about my Mom to all the stress because I'm going to be the one who will have to make the decision about her well-being when that day comes. And I'm so worried and consumed with fear that it's going to come sooner than I want it to. what am I going to do? I want her as close to me as possible - preferably in the same town or the next town over so I can see her every day. I HATE that she lives in another state and I blame my asshole father for that because he moved my mother there and she didn't want to go. My family is so splintered that I'm the only one who will be there to take care of my Mom because my older sister is a liar and crazy, my brother lives in Florida and I only speak to him once a year and my other sister lives in Australia and I swear to God I am repeating myself (no, I KNOW I am) and my father doesn't even count or figure into my Mom's future because they're divorced and he's a prick of the highest degree.
So here I am wondering how all this is going to play out and wishing I could get lucky like that woman who met and married Albert Pujols. She never has to worry about money again. What sucks is that I am not in a public type job so I never get to meet anyone at my job. My son is with me all the time so I don't go out much because I can barely afford my living expenses nevermind a babysitter.
Not too many options for me.
I'm blah blah blahing right now. When I got home, I ate a tomato salad with a piece of bread but then got into the pretzels and nutella (which god bless america are really good together - sweet and salty. And i had a glass of milk so of COURSE that justifies the pretzels and nutella. But that's been it. I ate until i wasn't hungry anymore which wasn't alot. And right now i have no desire to eat anything else.
I want a cigarette in the worst way. But I won't do it.
I just need that 20 grand. And someone to fill in the big gaping hole in my son's life and in mine. I wish I could contact that woman and ask her how she managed to snag someone like Pujols. How did she get that lucky? yes, I know all the pitfalls of marrying a ballplayer or a professional athlete - duh, do you think I fell off the turnip truck this morning? But in the big picture for me, she doesn't have to worry about money for her kids every again. And that's what I so desperately crave is just to be able to have enough money so I can take care of my son. I'm not willing to settle for some 80 year old rich guy (yuck) because I am human and I crave human contact. Women who marry those kinds of guys ARE golddiggers. I am so not that.
I just want to wake up every morning and not have Mt. Everest around my neck anymore and never have to worry about how I am going to take care of my son.
Movin' forward.
Showing posts with label single parent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label single parent. Show all posts
Friday, January 13, 2012
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Parenting Is Not for Dummies
I'm almost afraid to go check but did someone publish a book called "Parenting for Dummies?"
Parenting is not for dummies but unfortunately, many parents are just wired that way and certainly don't need a book to tell them what they already are - and worse.
This is my humor showing but let's be real here: When you "become" a parent, you are either in or out. That is about as black and white as it gets. However, as thousands and thousands of both mothers and fathers and moms and dads out there in this world, the lines between black and white are severely blurred by those "parents" who decide when he or she wants to be a "parent" to his/her child or children.
Let's look at definitions first. The American Heritage Student Dictionary defines parent as: "a man or woman who contributes one of the two reproductive cells that determine the genetic makeup of a child;" "a biological father or mother" and the third one "a person who nurtures and raises a child."
There is nothing in any of those three definitions that mention unconditional love, loving without expectation or terms or devotion or taking a bullet for your child or children, protecting your child from the monsters in the closet, spending quality time with your child or children (married, separated or divorced) and there is NOTHING in those three definitions that says a parent can pick and choose to be a parent when it suits him or her.
So, my question is for all the moms and dads in this world who "pick and choose" when you feel like being a parent: What gives you the right to decide when it suits you to be a parent?
Please don't get me wrong: This "picking and choosing" is an extremely common occurrence. And not surprising, it is not limited to divorced parents. It goes on in marriages.
But does anyone consider how it affects the child or children of these situations? I am not a perfect parent and I've never claimed to be and I will never be one but I have been a 24/7, 365 mom since the day I found out I was pregnant with Jake. There has not been one day that I woke up and said "huh. Don't feel like being a Mom today and actually followed through." Have there been times when I've wanted to throw myself in front of a bus because single parenthood got the best of me and I figured death was far better than going at this alone? Yes. But did I do it? No. Why? Because one look at my son was all it took to make me see that the sun is going to rise the next day and that the next day will probably be better than the day I thought about being bus kill.
People marry, people have kids. Or, people just have kids and kids and more kids by three or four different mothers and fathers. Some people have kids just to sleaze off state-aid services because they are supporting drug habits, criminal proclivities or are just plain lazy and will never amount to anything. Nice, shining examples for their children. And most like, those children will grow up to be exactly like their shining examples of parents.
Then there are those who marry, have a child or children, and realize what a horribly bad judgment call he or she made, extricates himself or herself from the marriage and embarks on the single parent journey which is fraught with frustration, anger, bitterness and resentment, struggles of the fourth kind while still trying to figure out how to be a parent when he or she has absolutely no tools with which to work.
Contrary to popular belief (and the books that line the shelves of bookstores all over the world), there is no book that tells you how to be a parent. None. Not one. Everyone is wired differently. Everyone takes a different approach. Some mimic what they already know from their own parents. Some, like me, just make it up as I go along. I had horrible role models for parents. Sure, I had a house (a structure built on a foundation), but never a home; I had a mother (but not a mom) and my memories of her are ironing with a wine glass in her hand and taking the horrific verbal abuse my father heaped upon her daily; and I had a father whose lust for power and money was far more important than taking his kids to summer camp, to sports practices and games, going outside and playing kick the can at night or helping with homework.
I had none of that. Which is the reason why the rift between myself and my three siblings is so huge and wide that there is nothing that can close that gap. And I thank my parents for creating that for us.
And this is the reason why I always believed I'd be a horrible parent and I never wanted children because I was so afraid I'd end up repeating the same learned behavior to which I'd been accustomed for the first 38 years of my life.
Somehow, someway, I did not repeat those learned patterns and behavior when I became a mother. I look at my son now and I can't describe the emotion he evokes inside of me - it is something so far beyond love it's not definable. And how my child brought that out in me will forever remain a mystery because I certainly was not the recipient of that same kind of love.
My ex-husband is an alcoholic so having grown up with a mother who nurtured her wine glass instead of her children, and a father whose quest for a firmly-rooted spot at the top of the employment chain was powered by more determination than he put into raising his kids - it's no wonder I chose unwisely when I married. I made a very bad judgment call. My ex drank, and he was far more interested in making as much money for himself than he was in saving for our future.
I married my family. Learned patterns, learned behavior. What a novel concept.
My son's father never got it. I just don't think he's cut out to be a father or parent or dad of any kind even though he has a second child. His parents were devoid of emotion - jeez, I NEVER saw them hug or kiss the whole time I was dating my ex-husband. Never. And even when I think back, my ex's affection was detached and like cardboard. I should of gotten a clue. But of course, what am I saying? Look at what I had for parents. So what in the world made me think I'd be any kind of a decent parent?
Because I stayed. I was in this single parent role for the long haul. I did not move, I did not remarry and (ugh) I did not have another child because I was too busy struggling to take care of the one I already had!
Clearly, my son's "father" had other ideas. He wasn't in Jake's life for the first three years - he just bailed and drank and went on his merry way. No kid, no responsibilities. Jake didn't even notice because I'm all he had. Then I went to court toward the end of the third year because I was just plain tired of struggling, was awarded child support and physical custody and a visitation schedule was arranged with which I had no problems because no matter what, I wanted my son to have some form of a father in his life. Boy, was I disillusioned. And then reality slapped me in the face for the next 10 and a half years.
My ex balked at the child support order. That's too much, he said. You don't need all that money. This child support is going to last you until Jake is 21 and I'm not giving you one penny more for anything or any reason. Huh. Really. Eight hundred dollars a month is going to last until Jake is 21years old.
And this is how it went. I do not remember a time when my ex gave me support willingly. I do not remember a time when he gave it to me on time. He had full access to his son anytime but he chose not to take advantage. There was no contribution to diapers, formula, clothes, toys, nothing. He'd call and say he was coming for a visit. And then never show up. And then I wouldn't hear from him for days and days.
My son was young but I could see the disappointment in his eyes every single day. My ex had girlfriends and attempted to bring them into my son's life. I said no - visitation is for you and your son - not your short-term relationships. He laughed at me and said, "well, too bad Jake's not going to see me because of you."
Alcoholics are impossible to deal with. I've learned that recently. Blame, denial, blame, denial. They do not take responsibility for their own actions and behavior because they are too busy consuming alcohol to see past the bottle from which they are destroying their lives - and the lives of others.
I finally got a divorce and a divorce agreement was hammered out. Pretty simple - we did not have any assets so the main crux of the agreement was taking care of Jake and his future.
Clearly, my ex husband thought the agreement was written in Swahili or some other foreign language because he failed to uphold most of the divorce agreement with the exception of the child support. He was supposed to set up a life insurance policy naming his son as a beneficiary. Not an unrealistic request. He is bound to pay half of my son's summer camp expenses and half of one sport in which my son participates per season. Not an unrealistic request. And he is bound to pay half of all of my son's college education including tuition, room and board and books and computers and whatever else goes with college expenses.
Now ask me if any of this has occurred either without a struggle or court intervention.
In March, 2007, my son came home from visiting his father and I found a nip bottle of vodka in his backpack. I'll spare you the details. But my ex decided to stop paying child support for nine months and I had to go back to court at which he was found in contempt but the judge actually said to my ex "if you want to drink, do it at home. Don't do it in front of your son." If I had a book I would have thrown it at her head. While I understand her statement, her thought process was clearly skewed.
So my ex's bank account was seized by DOR and I was already in deep credit card debt because I had nine months of no support to make up, and my ex calls me screaming because his mortgage check bounced. Yes, he remarried, bought a house, had another kid and oh gee, quite conveniently forgot that he already had a son that he wasn't financially and emotionally supporting. Wonder how that slipped his mind.
Oh, did I forget to mention he never paid the summer camp fees, the sporting fees and never contributes to clothes or school photos or any of the four hundred thousand other expenses above and beyond child support?
And on and on and on it has gone. He never talked to his son about remarrying and how it would affect him. He never talked to his son about moving far away that it would affect the visitation schedule. And never talked to his son about how having another child would affect him - not my ex, my son.
Clearly, I wasn't about to be the recipient of that talk which was fine but he just left his son out all together.
I understand people move on after relationships or marriages end. People marry, divorce, remarry and have more children every time.
But I do not understand how these very same people can simply "move on" and start a "brand new family" and leave behind the child or children that were on this earth first.
That is what is so mind boggling to me. It shouldn't be because I'm so used to this behavior by my son's father all these years. But I still shake my head trying to figure out how this happens. Does the wiring just simply change? Or cross? What is it with mothers and fathers who leave the first child or children behind and sashay off to start a new life and a new family?
Paying child support (via wage garnishment) does NOT MAKE YOU THE WORLD'S GREATEST MOTHER OR FATHER.
My son will be 11 this year. And suddenly, he gets it. He will not speak to his father nor does he want to see him. It seems like all the vanishing years have caught up with my son and he has realized that anyone can be a "father" (biologically speaking") but being a "dad" is far, far different and way more involved.
I wrote my ex a five page letter basically saying "guess what? This is your problem. I've spent far too much time and too many years trying to fix your mistakes and I absolutely refuse to do that anymore. I've made too many of my own that I am still fixing but I will not fix yours. You either choose to fix this with your son or not. I did not move out of the area. I did not remarry. I did not have another child. You have done those things. Your financial woes are not my problem. Our divorce agreement is pretty short but very specific. You have not taken care of your son financially. But more importantly, he is now convinced that you do not love him because you refuse to take care of him. He wants to know why you can buy a house but not give me the money for the things you are supposed to, same benefiting only our son. "
And I concluded my letter with "Our son is not an out of sight, out of mind situation. He is a living, breathing human being, a little boy who is troubled and hurts fiercely inside because of you."
Now ask me if anything I said in my letter had any affect whatsoever. I mailed it Dec. 28th. Today is January 8th. Has his father come screeching into my driveway unannounced to see his son? No. Did he receive any Christmas present - hand-delivered - from his father? No. My ex just calls my cell and leaves short, lame messages that my son listens to and shakes his head when I hand him the phone and ask him if he wants to call his father back.
You cannot make a "dad." A father is a biological term. But a "dad" - that's created, molded, woven, built, welded, signed sealed and delivered.
The one thing that is twisting my heart into something akin to a pretzel is that I never had a dad, either. I had a father. But I never had a dad. And history has repeated itself because of me. Yes, I know, I could not predict the future and I didn't break the patterns of learned behavior soon enough because I married an alcoholic who cared more about making money than taking care of his child.
But here I am, nearly 11 years later, and while my son is hurting, he has formed a shield around himself that shines and glimmers like polished gold - he is funny, smart, sociable, loves Jeff Gordon and the Red Sox, is doing really well in school, loves to read and dreams of working at NASA someday because he can't ask enough questions about exactly how the universe was formed and why the nine planets in our solar system line up so perfectly and so symmtretrically that everything works the way it's supposed to, he bursts into hysterics when he sees the ASPCA animal commercials which tells me he has deep, deep compassion for animals, he thinks about kids in other countries who are victims of natural disasters and how can he help, even in some small way; and above all else, he will throw his arms around me and hug me and tell me how much he loves me and that I am his best Mom.
And that is what I have done, that is what I have created, woven, melded, moulded, welded and signed and sealed. And perhaps someday when my son calls me to tell me he discovered a new galaxy through the Hubble Telescope or waves at me via camera from the space station on which he's working, or calls me and tells me he delivered 10 puppies or he's designed a piece of a space capsule or he got a job as the lead frontman singer with a band or whatever it is he ends up doing, I'll know I got it right.
Anyone can be a mother or a father.
But being a "Mom" or a "Dad" - that's not even a job for Superman. You really just make it up as you go along and hope you get it right.
So far, I think I've done OK - all by myself, 24/7 365.
And I hope I get many more years to keep doing this "Mom" job.
Lifehouse: "I'm all in for life ..."
Parenting is not for dummies but unfortunately, many parents are just wired that way and certainly don't need a book to tell them what they already are - and worse.
This is my humor showing but let's be real here: When you "become" a parent, you are either in or out. That is about as black and white as it gets. However, as thousands and thousands of both mothers and fathers and moms and dads out there in this world, the lines between black and white are severely blurred by those "parents" who decide when he or she wants to be a "parent" to his/her child or children.
Let's look at definitions first. The American Heritage Student Dictionary defines parent as: "a man or woman who contributes one of the two reproductive cells that determine the genetic makeup of a child;" "a biological father or mother" and the third one "a person who nurtures and raises a child."
There is nothing in any of those three definitions that mention unconditional love, loving without expectation or terms or devotion or taking a bullet for your child or children, protecting your child from the monsters in the closet, spending quality time with your child or children (married, separated or divorced) and there is NOTHING in those three definitions that says a parent can pick and choose to be a parent when it suits him or her.
So, my question is for all the moms and dads in this world who "pick and choose" when you feel like being a parent: What gives you the right to decide when it suits you to be a parent?
Please don't get me wrong: This "picking and choosing" is an extremely common occurrence. And not surprising, it is not limited to divorced parents. It goes on in marriages.
But does anyone consider how it affects the child or children of these situations? I am not a perfect parent and I've never claimed to be and I will never be one but I have been a 24/7, 365 mom since the day I found out I was pregnant with Jake. There has not been one day that I woke up and said "huh. Don't feel like being a Mom today and actually followed through." Have there been times when I've wanted to throw myself in front of a bus because single parenthood got the best of me and I figured death was far better than going at this alone? Yes. But did I do it? No. Why? Because one look at my son was all it took to make me see that the sun is going to rise the next day and that the next day will probably be better than the day I thought about being bus kill.
People marry, people have kids. Or, people just have kids and kids and more kids by three or four different mothers and fathers. Some people have kids just to sleaze off state-aid services because they are supporting drug habits, criminal proclivities or are just plain lazy and will never amount to anything. Nice, shining examples for their children. And most like, those children will grow up to be exactly like their shining examples of parents.
Then there are those who marry, have a child or children, and realize what a horribly bad judgment call he or she made, extricates himself or herself from the marriage and embarks on the single parent journey which is fraught with frustration, anger, bitterness and resentment, struggles of the fourth kind while still trying to figure out how to be a parent when he or she has absolutely no tools with which to work.
Contrary to popular belief (and the books that line the shelves of bookstores all over the world), there is no book that tells you how to be a parent. None. Not one. Everyone is wired differently. Everyone takes a different approach. Some mimic what they already know from their own parents. Some, like me, just make it up as I go along. I had horrible role models for parents. Sure, I had a house (a structure built on a foundation), but never a home; I had a mother (but not a mom) and my memories of her are ironing with a wine glass in her hand and taking the horrific verbal abuse my father heaped upon her daily; and I had a father whose lust for power and money was far more important than taking his kids to summer camp, to sports practices and games, going outside and playing kick the can at night or helping with homework.
I had none of that. Which is the reason why the rift between myself and my three siblings is so huge and wide that there is nothing that can close that gap. And I thank my parents for creating that for us.
And this is the reason why I always believed I'd be a horrible parent and I never wanted children because I was so afraid I'd end up repeating the same learned behavior to which I'd been accustomed for the first 38 years of my life.
Somehow, someway, I did not repeat those learned patterns and behavior when I became a mother. I look at my son now and I can't describe the emotion he evokes inside of me - it is something so far beyond love it's not definable. And how my child brought that out in me will forever remain a mystery because I certainly was not the recipient of that same kind of love.
My ex-husband is an alcoholic so having grown up with a mother who nurtured her wine glass instead of her children, and a father whose quest for a firmly-rooted spot at the top of the employment chain was powered by more determination than he put into raising his kids - it's no wonder I chose unwisely when I married. I made a very bad judgment call. My ex drank, and he was far more interested in making as much money for himself than he was in saving for our future.
I married my family. Learned patterns, learned behavior. What a novel concept.
My son's father never got it. I just don't think he's cut out to be a father or parent or dad of any kind even though he has a second child. His parents were devoid of emotion - jeez, I NEVER saw them hug or kiss the whole time I was dating my ex-husband. Never. And even when I think back, my ex's affection was detached and like cardboard. I should of gotten a clue. But of course, what am I saying? Look at what I had for parents. So what in the world made me think I'd be any kind of a decent parent?
Because I stayed. I was in this single parent role for the long haul. I did not move, I did not remarry and (ugh) I did not have another child because I was too busy struggling to take care of the one I already had!
Clearly, my son's "father" had other ideas. He wasn't in Jake's life for the first three years - he just bailed and drank and went on his merry way. No kid, no responsibilities. Jake didn't even notice because I'm all he had. Then I went to court toward the end of the third year because I was just plain tired of struggling, was awarded child support and physical custody and a visitation schedule was arranged with which I had no problems because no matter what, I wanted my son to have some form of a father in his life. Boy, was I disillusioned. And then reality slapped me in the face for the next 10 and a half years.
My ex balked at the child support order. That's too much, he said. You don't need all that money. This child support is going to last you until Jake is 21 and I'm not giving you one penny more for anything or any reason. Huh. Really. Eight hundred dollars a month is going to last until Jake is 21years old.
And this is how it went. I do not remember a time when my ex gave me support willingly. I do not remember a time when he gave it to me on time. He had full access to his son anytime but he chose not to take advantage. There was no contribution to diapers, formula, clothes, toys, nothing. He'd call and say he was coming for a visit. And then never show up. And then I wouldn't hear from him for days and days.
My son was young but I could see the disappointment in his eyes every single day. My ex had girlfriends and attempted to bring them into my son's life. I said no - visitation is for you and your son - not your short-term relationships. He laughed at me and said, "well, too bad Jake's not going to see me because of you."
Alcoholics are impossible to deal with. I've learned that recently. Blame, denial, blame, denial. They do not take responsibility for their own actions and behavior because they are too busy consuming alcohol to see past the bottle from which they are destroying their lives - and the lives of others.
I finally got a divorce and a divorce agreement was hammered out. Pretty simple - we did not have any assets so the main crux of the agreement was taking care of Jake and his future.
Clearly, my ex husband thought the agreement was written in Swahili or some other foreign language because he failed to uphold most of the divorce agreement with the exception of the child support. He was supposed to set up a life insurance policy naming his son as a beneficiary. Not an unrealistic request. He is bound to pay half of my son's summer camp expenses and half of one sport in which my son participates per season. Not an unrealistic request. And he is bound to pay half of all of my son's college education including tuition, room and board and books and computers and whatever else goes with college expenses.
Now ask me if any of this has occurred either without a struggle or court intervention.
In March, 2007, my son came home from visiting his father and I found a nip bottle of vodka in his backpack. I'll spare you the details. But my ex decided to stop paying child support for nine months and I had to go back to court at which he was found in contempt but the judge actually said to my ex "if you want to drink, do it at home. Don't do it in front of your son." If I had a book I would have thrown it at her head. While I understand her statement, her thought process was clearly skewed.
So my ex's bank account was seized by DOR and I was already in deep credit card debt because I had nine months of no support to make up, and my ex calls me screaming because his mortgage check bounced. Yes, he remarried, bought a house, had another kid and oh gee, quite conveniently forgot that he already had a son that he wasn't financially and emotionally supporting. Wonder how that slipped his mind.
Oh, did I forget to mention he never paid the summer camp fees, the sporting fees and never contributes to clothes or school photos or any of the four hundred thousand other expenses above and beyond child support?
And on and on and on it has gone. He never talked to his son about remarrying and how it would affect him. He never talked to his son about moving far away that it would affect the visitation schedule. And never talked to his son about how having another child would affect him - not my ex, my son.
Clearly, I wasn't about to be the recipient of that talk which was fine but he just left his son out all together.
I understand people move on after relationships or marriages end. People marry, divorce, remarry and have more children every time.
But I do not understand how these very same people can simply "move on" and start a "brand new family" and leave behind the child or children that were on this earth first.
That is what is so mind boggling to me. It shouldn't be because I'm so used to this behavior by my son's father all these years. But I still shake my head trying to figure out how this happens. Does the wiring just simply change? Or cross? What is it with mothers and fathers who leave the first child or children behind and sashay off to start a new life and a new family?
Paying child support (via wage garnishment) does NOT MAKE YOU THE WORLD'S GREATEST MOTHER OR FATHER.
My son will be 11 this year. And suddenly, he gets it. He will not speak to his father nor does he want to see him. It seems like all the vanishing years have caught up with my son and he has realized that anyone can be a "father" (biologically speaking") but being a "dad" is far, far different and way more involved.
I wrote my ex a five page letter basically saying "guess what? This is your problem. I've spent far too much time and too many years trying to fix your mistakes and I absolutely refuse to do that anymore. I've made too many of my own that I am still fixing but I will not fix yours. You either choose to fix this with your son or not. I did not move out of the area. I did not remarry. I did not have another child. You have done those things. Your financial woes are not my problem. Our divorce agreement is pretty short but very specific. You have not taken care of your son financially. But more importantly, he is now convinced that you do not love him because you refuse to take care of him. He wants to know why you can buy a house but not give me the money for the things you are supposed to, same benefiting only our son. "
And I concluded my letter with "Our son is not an out of sight, out of mind situation. He is a living, breathing human being, a little boy who is troubled and hurts fiercely inside because of you."
Now ask me if anything I said in my letter had any affect whatsoever. I mailed it Dec. 28th. Today is January 8th. Has his father come screeching into my driveway unannounced to see his son? No. Did he receive any Christmas present - hand-delivered - from his father? No. My ex just calls my cell and leaves short, lame messages that my son listens to and shakes his head when I hand him the phone and ask him if he wants to call his father back.
You cannot make a "dad." A father is a biological term. But a "dad" - that's created, molded, woven, built, welded, signed sealed and delivered.
The one thing that is twisting my heart into something akin to a pretzel is that I never had a dad, either. I had a father. But I never had a dad. And history has repeated itself because of me. Yes, I know, I could not predict the future and I didn't break the patterns of learned behavior soon enough because I married an alcoholic who cared more about making money than taking care of his child.
But here I am, nearly 11 years later, and while my son is hurting, he has formed a shield around himself that shines and glimmers like polished gold - he is funny, smart, sociable, loves Jeff Gordon and the Red Sox, is doing really well in school, loves to read and dreams of working at NASA someday because he can't ask enough questions about exactly how the universe was formed and why the nine planets in our solar system line up so perfectly and so symmtretrically that everything works the way it's supposed to, he bursts into hysterics when he sees the ASPCA animal commercials which tells me he has deep, deep compassion for animals, he thinks about kids in other countries who are victims of natural disasters and how can he help, even in some small way; and above all else, he will throw his arms around me and hug me and tell me how much he loves me and that I am his best Mom.
And that is what I have done, that is what I have created, woven, melded, moulded, welded and signed and sealed. And perhaps someday when my son calls me to tell me he discovered a new galaxy through the Hubble Telescope or waves at me via camera from the space station on which he's working, or calls me and tells me he delivered 10 puppies or he's designed a piece of a space capsule or he got a job as the lead frontman singer with a band or whatever it is he ends up doing, I'll know I got it right.
Anyone can be a mother or a father.
But being a "Mom" or a "Dad" - that's not even a job for Superman. You really just make it up as you go along and hope you get it right.
So far, I think I've done OK - all by myself, 24/7 365.
And I hope I get many more years to keep doing this "Mom" job.
Lifehouse: "I'm all in for life ..."
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
And The Truth Shall Set You Free
It's over.
I won. My son and I are not getting evicted. The trial was scheduled for tomorrow - along with 75 other eviction cases.
At first I didn't know how to react. The ball of stress was so tightly wound around my insides that even the news that truth prevailed - my truth - couldn't loosen its python grip - yet.
The management company's attorneys called my attorney today because they realized they had nothing. They did not have credible witnesses. They had no hard-core evidence. All they had was hearsay and lies and fabrications and the crazy rantings of the tenant that started all of this when she and her son stole my mail. Unreal, huh? And they came after me because I exercised my right as a tenant to call the police and report the theft. And the day after I did this, the tenant retaliated and went to management with her lies and management believed her. I'm tempted to publish all the allegations made against me because some of the stuff is so out into left field that a five year old could punch enough holes in it to make the management company look like fools but right now, I just want to put this behind me somehow. Maybe I'll write a book. No one should be subjected to this kind of abuse of power, this harassment and retaliation by a management company all because I exercised my enumerated rights as a tenant.
There are laws in place to protect tenants. There are laws in place to protect the landlords and the management companies. But when a situation occurs like mine and management abuses its power and exercises complete and sheer ludicriousy, stupidity and lack of common sense all because someone like me actually KNOWS her rights and had the truth all along, and had the evidence to prove the lies were lies, and had the evidence to prove that the "witnesses" were also lying, then management does not stand a chance in court.
What judge in his or her right mind would evict a single, working parent with a child, both of whom have resided in the same town for seven and a half years and was never late with rent, has never been arrested, and who has abided by the rules and regulations among all the other reasons I had?
I would hope that all judges would go "yah, right" to the management company of this property at which I reside.
This was a clear abuse of power. This was a clear and evident act of harassment and retaliation against me for exercising my rights as a tenant. And the psychopathic pathological liar across the hall from me? Too bad she won't get a chance to further perjure herself.
No one should be subjected to this kind of treatment by any landlord or management company with out clear, convincing evidence and credible witnesses.
And the management company here lacked all of the above. And they knew it.
The best part of the truth is it's always the same. It never changes. And I've held on to the truth for six months and even though I did not get a chance to speak the truth in open court, I know in my heart that truth prevailed. And perhaps some serious prayers to God, too.
And let me tell you something else. You find out who your friends are - your genuine, extraordinary friends who stick beside you through your darkest days, through your rantings and hashing and re-hashings, and who never lose faith in you - even when you've lost it yourself. Those people in my life - they always knew the truth. And they still do.
This tenant across the hall from me - she's supposed to be moving. She hasn't yet. But who knows - it could have been just another lie. But if it's not, then good riddance. Let her go steal someone else's mail and let her weave her lies around someone else. For someone like that - her whole life will always be one big lie.
I feel for her children. I still retained my compassion even throughout all this nightmare that she caused me. But there's that part of me that genuinely feels sad for her kids.
Right now, though, my son is sitting at the kitchen table working on his homework. And tonight, he will sleep peacefully without nightmares. Jeff Gordon will remain on his walls, and the memories of the Red Sox 2004 World Series championship will continue to surround him. His bed will stay where it is and his stuffed cow named Sam secure in his arms.
Tonight, I will just lay in bed and try to forget about the last six months. And pray that I don't have a stroke and die in my sleep. Because I'd be really pissed if I woke up dead.
Yes, I still have my sense of humor. I lost a lot of things in the past six months but that I did not lose.
And the truth shall set you free.
One more thing:
Proverbs 19.5: "A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall not escape."
Amen.
I won. My son and I are not getting evicted. The trial was scheduled for tomorrow - along with 75 other eviction cases.
At first I didn't know how to react. The ball of stress was so tightly wound around my insides that even the news that truth prevailed - my truth - couldn't loosen its python grip - yet.
The management company's attorneys called my attorney today because they realized they had nothing. They did not have credible witnesses. They had no hard-core evidence. All they had was hearsay and lies and fabrications and the crazy rantings of the tenant that started all of this when she and her son stole my mail. Unreal, huh? And they came after me because I exercised my right as a tenant to call the police and report the theft. And the day after I did this, the tenant retaliated and went to management with her lies and management believed her. I'm tempted to publish all the allegations made against me because some of the stuff is so out into left field that a five year old could punch enough holes in it to make the management company look like fools but right now, I just want to put this behind me somehow. Maybe I'll write a book. No one should be subjected to this kind of abuse of power, this harassment and retaliation by a management company all because I exercised my enumerated rights as a tenant.
There are laws in place to protect tenants. There are laws in place to protect the landlords and the management companies. But when a situation occurs like mine and management abuses its power and exercises complete and sheer ludicriousy, stupidity and lack of common sense all because someone like me actually KNOWS her rights and had the truth all along, and had the evidence to prove the lies were lies, and had the evidence to prove that the "witnesses" were also lying, then management does not stand a chance in court.
What judge in his or her right mind would evict a single, working parent with a child, both of whom have resided in the same town for seven and a half years and was never late with rent, has never been arrested, and who has abided by the rules and regulations among all the other reasons I had?
I would hope that all judges would go "yah, right" to the management company of this property at which I reside.
This was a clear abuse of power. This was a clear and evident act of harassment and retaliation against me for exercising my rights as a tenant. And the psychopathic pathological liar across the hall from me? Too bad she won't get a chance to further perjure herself.
No one should be subjected to this kind of treatment by any landlord or management company with out clear, convincing evidence and credible witnesses.
And the management company here lacked all of the above. And they knew it.
The best part of the truth is it's always the same. It never changes. And I've held on to the truth for six months and even though I did not get a chance to speak the truth in open court, I know in my heart that truth prevailed. And perhaps some serious prayers to God, too.
And let me tell you something else. You find out who your friends are - your genuine, extraordinary friends who stick beside you through your darkest days, through your rantings and hashing and re-hashings, and who never lose faith in you - even when you've lost it yourself. Those people in my life - they always knew the truth. And they still do.
This tenant across the hall from me - she's supposed to be moving. She hasn't yet. But who knows - it could have been just another lie. But if it's not, then good riddance. Let her go steal someone else's mail and let her weave her lies around someone else. For someone like that - her whole life will always be one big lie.
I feel for her children. I still retained my compassion even throughout all this nightmare that she caused me. But there's that part of me that genuinely feels sad for her kids.
Right now, though, my son is sitting at the kitchen table working on his homework. And tonight, he will sleep peacefully without nightmares. Jeff Gordon will remain on his walls, and the memories of the Red Sox 2004 World Series championship will continue to surround him. His bed will stay where it is and his stuffed cow named Sam secure in his arms.
Tonight, I will just lay in bed and try to forget about the last six months. And pray that I don't have a stroke and die in my sleep. Because I'd be really pissed if I woke up dead.
Yes, I still have my sense of humor. I lost a lot of things in the past six months but that I did not lose.
And the truth shall set you free.
One more thing:
Proverbs 19.5: "A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall not escape."
Amen.
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