A funny thing happened at my local independent bookstore today.
I had stopped by with V., who's still home sick from school, to pick up an order that had come in. I knew the cashier by sight but not name, so chit-chat was at a minimum, but then Dave walked by.
Dave is one of the book buyers. He's also dreamy. Curly dark hair, blue eyes, handsome, sweet, charming, my age, and -- get this -- raised two children on his own after he and his wife split when they were little and she didn't want them. They're now in their mid-teens, which means he must've been barely out of his when he got hitched the first time.
Amazingly, he almost always seems to be in a good mood. He's one of those people whom everyone loves because he's so nice. His hotness is significant, but even that is overpowered by the sheer force of his goodness. And with a bio like that, he's a single mom's wet dream.
Regrettably for all the voracious single moms like me would've snapped Dave up like coyotes would steak, he's also remarried and the proud papa of a five-month-old boy. Which is great for him, really, and I'm not even shedding tears over it since I (unfortunately) don't tend to go for the nice type. I like them a little mean. Just a little. And I'm not necessarily proud of that fact (more on this later). I'm just hard-wired that way. Guys like Dave I hang out with and love as friends. Guys that make me want to drop trou tend to be a little rougher around the edges.
Anyway, lest you think I'm a crazy, lovelorn bookstore employee stalker (a breed not unknown in this town), let me explain that I know many of the employees of this particular store pretty well because a)I used to work at another branch of same in MY teens and some of my coworkers transferred there, b)my boyfriend way-back-when worked at this store, and c)the ex's uncle-by-marriage works there currently, and we are on cordial terms. Plus, d)my good friend and also long-ago ex W., who is an independent book dealer, is in there a lot. So I get to shoot the shit with these guys without coming across as a desperate former housewife.
Anyway, Dave's cool and I like him. I had quite a few distressed and TMI-filled conversations with him about being a Divorce Survivor while my divorce was fresh. I wanted to know how his single parenting experience was, etc. But I haven't seen him in a while and it's not like I ever talk to those guys outside their work, so I try not to importune them.
Today, though, he was in a mood to talk. And he was laughing. "W. cracked me up the other day," he said, "he told me something funny that your daughter said and I almost spit out my drink."
"Oh yeah?" I asked. I imagined that it was the anecdote about how my daughter turned to W. when he was over one day and, referring to her brother, remarked, "He's stupid." W. thought that was hilarious and called me the next day to tell me about it.
"Yeah," Dave said. "He said that your daughter saw that picture of the Christian Militia that's been making the rounds, pointed at one, and said the name of your ex's girlfriend."
"Oh, that!" I replied. "Yeah, she saw it on my Facebook page, pointed right at it and was all 'Mar-o-lyn, that's Mar-o-lyn.' I told her it wasn't, but she insisted."
"That's awesome!" Dave laughed. "Out of the mouths of babes."
"Shhhh!" I said, "You know my ex comes in here!"
He smirked, took a swig of his coffee.
"So do you think I should tell him?"
That was when we had to get the paper towels.
But despite the damage to my sweatshirt, I have to say that incident buoyed me up for the rest of the morning. And I belatedly realized why: because it means those guys are pulling for me. They're rooting for me. And it's not that they'd ever be rude or insulting to my ex, but they watched us together and they watched when he left and they see me with the kids and him without and nobody there truly dislikes him, but they're also not overcompensating, the way so many mutual acquaintances do, by pretending that the playing field is equal and there are no bad guys and everybody needs validation and blah blah blah insert more of the kids of things my mother-in-law would say here to explain why she was buying presents for the ex's girlfriend, whom he started dating before he left me, just weeks after my father-in-law and I found, aghast, the sexy text messages he'd sent her while still married. (To her credit, she started wooing the girlfriend after she stopped urging me to win him back and buy some condoms against the diseases he might've picked up.)
These guys -- Dave, another guy, Josh, and the ex's uncle Alex -- are in my corner. It's not even that they're against the ex. It's just that they're behind me. And they're not shy to say so.
It's nice to know.
Showing posts with label parenting time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting time. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Word Gets Around
Labels:
allies,
ex,
exes,
kids,
parenting time,
schadenfreude,
single dads,
single moms,
things kids say
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
At Your Convenience
Here's a little window into the arrangement I have with my ex. He usually comes Wednesday afternoon for 3-4 hours and Sunday afternoon from 12-7 (though he has been an hour late the last two Sundays -- hard to get up in the morning). On Wednesday they stay here. On Sunday they used to stay here, but then his girlfriend told him that he need to take control and have the kids "experience his environment"* (never mind that the kids, or one of them, anyway, are asthmatic and allergic to her cats and that environment fucks them up for a minimum of 24 hours), so they wait here until the younger one is done with her nap, then go to his place.
As previously mentioned, my daughter V. is sick. She's her normal, charming, really, really good-looking two-year-old self most of the time, then she bursts into tears and projectile vomits. She's been doing so for five days, and I am really tired of watching her cry, tired of wiping her puke off the floor, tired of hopefully feeding her bland foods, tired of worried she'll go into a dehydration coma. So we spent two hours at the doctor's this morning (fortunately, I'm on spring break, or this Week on Vomit Comet would send my stress from Ernie to Elmo). As a courtesy, I emailed the ex about the events. Here's the reply I just got:
Backstory: the ex's parents are coming to town Thursday. They will be staying with me, in order to spend time with the children (they ostensibly also give two shits about me, but I'm not sure I believe them, nor do I really blame them for it; I find them excruciatingly irritating and have long been fed up with various aspects of their hypocrisy and disingenuousness, but I'm judgmental like that, plus they did raise the dude that I am now happy to be divorced from, for which I try and fail not to blame them). Yes, you read that right. My ex-laws will be staying with me. For two nights. Even though I never got along with them in the first place. BECAUSE I AM INSANE.
So here's the ex's reply:
And, in a larger sense, you may see why the last year has really made me question the role of a father in a kid's life. I'm not saying I don't think fathers are important -- a good father is great. But I didn't have a good father, and in fact most people I know didn't. Most people I know had abusive fathers or unavailable fathers or absent fathers. The two men least likely to treat women like shit I know (my boyfriend and my old friend W., whom I dated about a thousand years ago when I was still in my teens) both grew up without fathers, and neither one especially regrets it. So to chase around trying to facilitate my ex's being the man he's not seems...just a little bit silly. And it also seems like missing the point; after all, now that we're divorced, aren't I supposed to be free of the stress of being his personal assistant, motivational coach, and scold?
*This is not my imagination of how things went down. When I met with her -- at my request to 'establish cordiality' in light of her potential ongoing contact with my kids -- she told me so.
As previously mentioned, my daughter V. is sick. She's her normal, charming, really, really good-looking two-year-old self most of the time, then she bursts into tears and projectile vomits. She's been doing so for five days, and I am really tired of watching her cry, tired of wiping her puke off the floor, tired of hopefully feeding her bland foods, tired of worried she'll go into a dehydration coma. So we spent two hours at the doctor's this morning (fortunately, I'm on spring break, or this Week on Vomit Comet would send my stress from Ernie to Elmo). As a courtesy, I emailed the ex about the events. Here's the reply I just got:
I wasn't fantastically impressed by this, but it also sounded like maybe he still wanted to come Thursday, so I replied:
I am sorry to hear that V. is sick. Please tell her I hope she gets better really soon. Let's skip tomorrow in light of this. I can't risk getting sick and coming for less than three hours is silly anyway. I have something to do for most of the day anyway and was thinking of asking if it'd work to do Thursday instead. OK?
Skipping tomorrow is fine, but you should keep in mind that she (or he, or both) will probably still be contagious Sunday.
I am planning to make dinner with/for your parents on Thursday. They are planning to be here at four. If you want to come and show up with them, you're welcome to stay for dinner. We'll be eating early, around 5:30. Let me know if you want to come. I need to buy some fish or something.
Backstory: the ex's parents are coming to town Thursday. They will be staying with me, in order to spend time with the children (they ostensibly also give two shits about me, but I'm not sure I believe them, nor do I really blame them for it; I find them excruciatingly irritating and have long been fed up with various aspects of their hypocrisy and disingenuousness, but I'm judgmental like that, plus they did raise the dude that I am now happy to be divorced from, for which I try and fail not to blame them). Yes, you read that right. My ex-laws will be staying with me. For two nights. Even though I never got along with them in the first place. BECAUSE I AM INSANE.
So here's the ex's reply:
I realize that. I am more concerned about making rent before I expose myself to the possibility of illness... Can't do dinner on Thursday, but I appreciate the invite.You see what I mean when I say that I used to try to chase him down and I gave up on that.
And, in a larger sense, you may see why the last year has really made me question the role of a father in a kid's life. I'm not saying I don't think fathers are important -- a good father is great. But I didn't have a good father, and in fact most people I know didn't. Most people I know had abusive fathers or unavailable fathers or absent fathers. The two men least likely to treat women like shit I know (my boyfriend and my old friend W., whom I dated about a thousand years ago when I was still in my teens) both grew up without fathers, and neither one especially regrets it. So to chase around trying to facilitate my ex's being the man he's not seems...just a little bit silly. And it also seems like missing the point; after all, now that we're divorced, aren't I supposed to be free of the stress of being his personal assistant, motivational coach, and scold?
*This is not my imagination of how things went down. When I met with her -- at my request to 'establish cordiality' in light of her potential ongoing contact with my kids -- she told me so.
Labels:
custody,
deadbeat dads,
parenting time,
sick kids,
single moms,
single parenting
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