The Cow Story

Back here, I told you I had an endearing story about my soon to be ex-husband and my favorite cow.  Well, here it is.  I’m getting worn down by all the anger at him.  So just for tonight I’m going to reflect on a happier time, because there were some of those.  And I am working this week on letting the anger go.

I had a favorite cow.  The one who inspired me to become a vegetarian.  It lived on a farm that I drove past everyday on my forty minute commute to work and back.  When I say a favorite cow, I mean one of many as I’m sure it was not the same one I saw everyday.

I told my husband about the cows that stood by the fence and stared at me as I drove past.  Of course, he was to be greatly impacted as a meat eater at my decision to become a vegetarian.

My husband put a plan into action.  First he, called his best friend at the time.  They were sous-chef’s together and had worked in the same restaurant since they were sixteen.  They hatched the plan together.

They drove to the farm.  They went to the door and my husband and his friend told the farmer that they were taking a photography class at our local college and would like to photograph their cows.  The farmer excited, showed them all around the farm, introducing them to all the animals and their family.  I think a swimming donkey might have been involved, but my memory fails me.  They did not share my love of farms and found this quite uninteresting.

Then they headed off  into the field with warnings to watch the bull (husband didn’t and was chased) and the electric fence (best friend didn’t and got a minor electrical shock).  

What they ended up with was a beautiful shot of a very lovely brown cow standing in a grassy field.

The photo was enlarged and place in a frame he handmade for me and presented to me on my birthday.

As of this moment.  I do not know if I still have the picture.  The frame was beat up and destroyed long ago.  This week as I  sift through what’s left of my belongings from my old home in the basement I will look.

There are times I have to stop and remember that there was a reason I fell in love with him.  Even though those days are long gone and never to be had again.  Bitterness is a difficult pill.  Better to have a few moments to hold onto, to validate eleven years.  Like this one….

 

The Hearing

Had me filled with anxiety.  Not that I didn’t feel qualified, but over the fact I would have to testify in front of him (and his mother as it turns out) about all the goings on in the last eight months.

It felt good though to be sitting there by myself (with my lawyer of course) and stating the facts and my intentions.

The judge was not thrilled that he was in no way prepared.  In fact he asked for a last minute postponement which was why I was in such a dither yesterday.  He got a sincere tongue lashing from her for not doing anything the court requested which set the tone that I might be okay.

I have to thank my excellent lawyer because really he did the work, that court stuff I don’t understand, and it felt good to be sitting there next to him who has been advocating for me all this time.  

So in a nutshell I was awarded sole legal custody.  The judge did not see that he was currently fit to warrant joint custody, but in a manner that I was quite proud of, she reminded him that this does not mean this decision cannot be revised in the future if he pulls himself together.

I won my request for supervised visitation with my own or supervised transportation.

I got child support made retro to our filing date of July 2008.

I also won alimony and court costs, though I doubt I will see these.

In addition, the judge requested that he comply with the requested drug testing today.

He has 10 days to file an exception to the judge’s ruling.  Which he will probably do and will then postpone the officialness of all of this another couple of months.

I’m a bevy of emotions right now and there are things I wish to say to him, that I know I can’t and so many other things to drag out this post.

The man that sat across from me today in the judge’s chambers is a shell of the man I was once married too.  Though I know he puts me to blame, he needs to know that he is the one accountable for the actions he takes.  He is the one who has lied. He is the one making judgements that impose criminal penalties.  He is the one who doesn’t show up, doesn’t call.  This was the message that was given to him.

I hope the loss of legal custody will be enough to set him in a new direction.  That maybe one day he will have it together enough to make wise choices and make the effort to make the most of the time he has with these girls.  Somehow, I doubt this.  In all honesty, I would much rather see a healthy relationship between us all (even apart) where I felt confident in a joint arrangement than the pain we have all been subjected to.

I stared at the man who lied to me for years.  Who told me he loved me long past the time when the manipulations had been growing.  Who said that the girls were the most important thing on earth to him.  Who I pleaded with on the phone time and again that he  needed to get it together for our girl’s sakes and who fails to do so at every turn.  Who recently disappointed someone from his own family who I know loves him but like me, cannot afford the betrayals.

The sounds of his words to me at the end…..you’re crazy, you’re weak, you’ll never make it on your own, it’s all your fault, they have softened to a whisper in the back of my head.

Today I am filled with the  three phone calls and fourteen emails this morning wishing me well.  Not luck, they said, justice.  You are strong, you are a good mother, you deserve this.

I am the woman who sat nervously in the courtroom hallway chatting To Kill A Mockingbird with her lawyer.  Who sat in front of this man  and stood strong.  Who raised her voice though not probably loud enough, loud enough to be heard that she will not stand for her or her children to be hurt any longer and that he must do what is right.

I am the woman who while struggling to make time, dollars, love and support stretch to fill what is asked of me will always manage to find enough to fill these beautiful young girls that I came home to today.

Today, I put him in my past.  That today, it would no longer be about him.  Though he may always be a significant part of my children’s lives, he is no longer a significant part of mine.

To my family, Mommy, Daddy, Steve, Grandmom, Grandpa, Karen, Kevin, Calum who saw me through panic and tears to get to this point, I would not be here without you.  If not for the fact that when I thought you would be ashamed or disappointed in the turn my life had taken, you instead picked me up and gave me confidence back.  Your physical, financial and emotional support is what gets me through everyday.

To my friend Lisa.  Other than my family, you are the one person who got me to this point.  You were the one who assured me that there would be a right time to leave.  That it would be hard, but I would be better on the other side of it.  That I could and would manage to do it even if it seemed impossible.  Now that you are facing your own share of tragedy, I want you to know I will always be here (if a bit far away, but never too far away) for you should you need me in return.

To my brother and sister in law.  Though in a few short months we will no longer officially be family,  you will always be close to my heart and I hope will remain there.  I am so sorry for the drama and the pain that this relationship has caused your family.  You stood by me and believed in me when no one else in your family did.  To that I will always be grateful.  And though you face your own obstacles right now I want only happiness and peace for all four of you and for you to know my door is always open for conversation, or a cup of tea or a bottle of wine.

To my little group of online friends, you have no idea how far your encouragement has brought me. When I felt I had no one, you were always here waiting.  You listen to me whine and never failed to respond to my despair with words of support.  

To those single mothers out there reading this, or blogging about your own struggles, thank you for your posts, as hard as they are, as difficult as the days and the emotions are, it is nice to know you are not alone.  For those of you waiting on your own resolutions and scared about the outcome of your own futures, I hope you too, find a resolution that can bring you peace.

Lest this become a book , or a really bad awards speech, I finish by saying I know there are still difficult times and frustrations ahead, but right here, right now, I am content with this bit of victory. 

and you know the nonsense and whining will be back tomorrow right?

p.s. it’s snowing again.

I HATE HIM

That’s all.  Say anymore and my head might blow off.

Home Alone

The kids are gone.

They are with their Dad.  It’s perhaps their third visit with him since the end of November.

They ran into his arms  yelling, “Daddy”.  To them he is nothing more than their father.

I’m trying to pick my words very carefully.  I have a custody hearing coming up on the 27th.

Seeing him, makes me feel sad.  Sad about who he has become.

The absence of the girls leaves a gaping hole in my heart.

Ten minutes ago they were driving me crazy as I was trying to get them to put things away.  They both ended up in time out.  Their energy and attitude were driving me crazy as I take a turn back into sickness today, eating again too soon.

For five years I struggled, because I thought that if I was there with him, I could watch him at all times and know when it was okay.  That I would know when he was not right.

I stayed because I knew it would feel like this to leave them with him.  To not have control of the two most important things I have ever had in this world.

Unfortunately, things don’t work that way and I ended up losing a lot including myself trying to keep control.

They were born from me and not once, ever, have I wavered from my responsibility to them.  They are and always will be the most important things in my  life. 

There is nothing that indicates to me today that anything is wrong.  He seems straight and level and happy to see them.

But I don’t know…….see I spent too many years looking at that face and the promises that were made that everything was okay when it most certainly was not.

The court says he has just as much right to them as I do as their father.  I only hope that the court will see his history this past year and give me more control.   He doesn’t show up, he doesn’t call, he doesn’t support them.  He has no car, he has no solid home, he continues to make bad choices.

We have been separated since May 2008.  Nothing bad has ever, ever happened to them.  I will pick them back up tonight and they will be tired and happy to have seen their Dad.

But the tears, they don’t stop.  They just keep coming.  Because it’s not fair.  Because I love them so much.

12 Days and Counting

 

It’s been 12  days since the girls Dad has called, let alone seen them.  

Wondering why I’ve been trying so hard to include him in their lives.

I Just Don’t Understand.

My husband and I officially separated on May 14, 2008.  Meaning this is the last time he was in our home overnight.  He had moved out but spent the night so that we could drive together to Em’s field day, so I didn’t have to drive to the next town to pick him up as he had no license.  He slept on the couch, but that was nothing new because one or the other of us had been sleeping on the couch for two years.

In June, I officially handed over the $3,000 check, one of more to come, to my lawyer to start separation and divorce proceedings, see where I live,  you must be separated for one year before you can request a divorce.

July and August were a HELLISH nightmare of name calling, screaming, false accusations, crying children, isolation, anger, fear.  Lies were continued to be told and promises broken.  A lot of pacing happened on my mother’s front porch where I had moved because I was too scared to stay in the our family home after a violent threat was made.  A lot of crying happened on that porch.  A lot of sitting with my parents at the age of 36 after being married for eleven years. A lot of hand holding and moments curled up in my mother’s lap.  A lot of nights with the kids in bed and my mother and I staying up until midnight trying to make sense of it all.

September came, school started, the little one was picked up with no notification and did not get off the bus, the school said her father signed her out for an appointment.  A LOT of angry words were spoken, rules and agreements were spoken about, truces were made, schedules worked out again and again only to be broken.  Kids were taken to his home and he was not there, calls to his cell went unanswered.  The man who fought me so hard and ruined our lives that summer, now seemed to have other priorities besides his children.

October, we received a date for our custody and child support hearing, (child support what is that?), January 27, 2009.  Seems that, the court feels, is an appropriate time to talk about custody and financial support of our children.

Letter arrives from his attorney requesting information for the hearing.  This is to determine who should get sole custody or if we will maintain joint custody.  I kid you not that these are some of the questions I have to explain, there are 30 in total:

         “If you consider yourself a fit and proper person to have sole custody of your child, expain fully your definition of a fit custodial parent and indicate all characteristics which you possess and which you feel would satisfy this definition to have sole custody of your child, specifically indicating facts to support your contention, citing assertions and stating names, addresses, and telephone numbers of all persons having personal knowledge of any facts relevant to  your assertion”.

     “State the efforts you have made in the past two years to enhance the minor child’s educational/religous progress, including but not limited to the following: conferences wiith teachers or counselor, how often you have taken him or her to church, zoos, museums, books you have read to  him or her, hours per week spent with the minor child”.  (Ummm, thousand of books, trips and hours).

     “Itemize completely all expenditures made by you for your child on his or her behalf during the past four years, attach legible copies of all receipts, cancelled bills and checks or other evidence of such expenditures”. (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?)  

So it’s done, my little autobiography. It’s midnight and I go to the lawyer to review it as it is due December 4th.  I wish that maybe I could have just carried a video camera around with me.  Then the judge could have seen us snuggling in bed like mama hen and chicks in the morning, our weekend breakfasts, the mad dash to school, the homework, the dinner, the board games, the bedtime stories, the middle of the night aches and pains, the explanations of why daddy hasn’t called, the time spent coloring, crafting, playing with the dog, the beautiful new home courtesy of my grandparents, the way the girls run next door to visit with them each day, my car which I actually  have and is registered and licensed. The food I buy them, the clothes I buy them, the  movies I rent them, the parent visitation days at school, the lunch to celebrate two amazing report cards, the frustration, the exaustion, the bitterness of being the one to pick up the pieces, but to still smile for the girls and tell them “Daddy wants to see you, but he has some things going on right now”.

Can the judge get that from this document?  I don’t understand.

I just want to be a good mother to these girls.  I just want them to grow up healthy and happy and not too scarred by all this.  I want them to know their mother was strong enough to leave an already broken home and stand on her own two feet.  I want them to not have to know how hard I fought for them.  I don’t want them to ever, ever know how horrible it was to keep them safe and secure and how hard it was to spend days explaining to someone in a Word document what she does everyday to justify she is a “fit” parent.

 

 

Dear Judge,

I just want to raise these beautiful babies of mine.  Like I intended when they were first born and laid upon my breast.  The whispered promise that first night that I would ALWAYS, ALWAYS, love them and keep them safe in this great big, scary world…no… matter… what…it…takes.

 I can do this, I will do this, I am doing this because they are so beyond worth every minute, every dollar, every sacrifice.