Life on the stepmom/mom/wife/daughter/God’s kid rollercoaster…
I rear-ended a car this morning…the start of a REALLY bad day!
The driver got out of the other car, and he was a DWARF!!
He looked up at me and said “I am NOT happy!”
So I said, “Well, which one ARE you then?”
That’s how the fight started…
(No, this is NOT a true story, although it sounds like something I might do before actually thinking about it…)
I so love stuff like this. I saw it on Rob Kelly’s blog and HAD to create my own.
Here’s mine:
Go now (just click on the pic). Do yours. Come back and leave a comment letting me know what your personality type might be.
Go…
Now…
Yes, you.
Then come back and let me know…
Yeah, a lot of fun. Like having an emergency appendectomy can be fun. Like having your impacted wisdom teeth yanked without novocaine is fun. Like falling down an entire flight of stairs and hitting your head on every. single. blessed. step… is fun.
We survived the long week prior to stepping foot into the chambers of The Honorable Whats-His-Name. We survived the daily bouts of nausea, the clammy hands, the chilly fingers, the dry mouth, the worry, the stress. We survived the car ride to the actual courthouse by the hair of our chinny-chin-chins. We got through security, with a minor sidetrack for them to search my purse (hint: If your purse weighs almost 600 pounds because you have packed your video camera, your digital camera, and 300 pounds of paper evidence, they WILL search it), found where we were actually supposed to be, swam through the sea of jurors waiting to see if they would actually get out of jury duty or not, found our attorney, ascended to the heights of the court building, and entered the chambers.
Our witnesses showed. The Egg Donor (ED) managed to make it and teetered in on stiletto heels that will cause her corns and bunions (fingers crossed) later in life, if not later today, and we all took our seats.
Our attorney began. She renewed her motion to have this issue arbitrated (because that is, after all, what our COURT ORDER says). ED responded that she was just appalled at the idea that this would be arbitrated. Of course, the arbitrator is biased. In fact, that mean ol’ arbitrator has sent her *several* e-mails now stating that he won’t even *speak* to her. The Honorable Whats-His-Name actually asked one sane question.
“Is that because you have not paid him?”
“Well,”the Egg Donor lied through her teeth, “I HAVE been hospitalized, your Honor, for the vast majority of the past two years and I have only recently begun working again, so finances have been very tight. Actually, the arbitrator is now getting paid via garnishment.” Sideways glance to my hubby and our attorney–didja get that? Yeah, we got it. Fortunately for us we have your employment history, including how much we’ve garnished out of your “non-existent” wages (yeah, like over two grand now) and we’ll bring that up later… psycho.
The Honorable Whats-His-Name said, “Hmmm, well, this Court will hear these issues, then.”
Great.
Just freakin’ great.
Our attorney took a deep breath and drove on. She called her first witness, the therapist for the kids. She wasn’t even on the stand for five minutes before we had issues. I wish I had a tape recording of the proceedings. I have NEVER met someone that can just outright produce lies that sound like truth, no matter how outrageous, like ED. The long and short of it is that ED sent an e-mail to the therapist, via a Psychology website, about four months ago. As is ED’s custom when she wants to say someone refused to contact her, she filled out the online form with an incorrect e-mail address.
Right on. We got sucked down that rabbit hole for about 15 minutes, arguing about whether the font had been changed (obviously the Honorable Whats-His-Name is NOT a tech guy) and generally failing to understand how this could happen. ED spent that entire time maintaining that the therapist had changed her e-mail address on purpose in the reply and then had doctored the exhibit to cover it up. Whatever. Because she would never take accountability for deliberately misrepresenting herself.
ED then dropped the big ol’ bombshell that ALL of the children had written letters to the court the night before, expressing their desire to spend more time with her and less with My Hubby. She’s a paragon of parenting virtue, let me tell you. I don’t even want to guess how jacked up these kids will be by the time they reach the age of 19. Conflicted doesn’t even begin to cover it when your Egg Donor forces you into things like this.
Moving on to the really wonderful letter the therapist wrote regarding the best interests of the minor children. We didn’t even get into the first paragraph before Whats-His-Name claimed that My Hubby hadn’t given ED notice about this therapy thing and she deserved the right to read this letter (non-disclosure, blah, blah, blah) and meet with said therapist, etc. He questioned the validity of the testimony, slammed My Hubby for not giving ED written notice of the therapy (even though he provided *that woman* with the brochure and business card of the therapist IN JANUARY and *that woman* had no objection until our advisement two months ago), and tabled it all — yep, you read that right — ALL OF IT…. for two months.
There were some highlights…
We filed a nicely drawn Motion for Contempt on eight counts a couple of weeks back. She got served with that in open court and Whats-His-Name read her her rights. That was goodness.
Her employer also showed up with the employment file they couldn’t manage to find last week (they were scrambling to get it together before court this morning in response to our subpoena and actually had to have someone appear in court with it) and that gave her quite a start. Not surprising since it contained her last three reviews and none of them were very good. I feel a “layoff” coming on…
Last, but not least, Whats-His-Name gave ED and My Hubby a long lecture (a la your Mother during your teenage years) about bringing these children into the world and making sure they raise them right, this contention has to go, they should meet and have a nice chat about how to resolve these issues (blah-de-blah, RIGHT… that will happen… you poor sucker… when pigs FREAKING FLY). So on ED’s stormy way out of court, teetering near the brink of disaster on those heels, crocodile tears streaming down her over-made-up face, our attorney said, “Would you like to meet to discuss a possible settlement?”
Not even a backward glance. ED just hit the door a little harder with her hand and shoved her way through. Our attorney turned back just a little to make sure that Whats-His-Name witnessed firsthand the “ability of the parties to work together.” Um, yeah, if one party is NOT SANE, it’s a little tough, your Honor.
Two more months we’ll wait to go see The Honorable Whats-His-Name again. We will definitely have ourselves a tad more organized. We’ll definitely increase the war chest. I think we’ll subpoena every employer she’s ever had. And all of the daycare providers. We’ll have a line out the door and around the corner of folks who might be able to testify to her looniness.
And? We’ll have the e-mail she sent to the therapist today… one that was *clearly* NOT retaliatory (back to the pigs flying thing), in which she accused the therapist of being emotionally abusive to the children. Yeah, she’s mean, they don’t like her, they cry every time they come home from a session.
She’s evil. Pure-D evil, I tell you.
So, we survived today. Now we just have to survive the next two months, with the level of craziness escalating further until no one, absolutely no one, can stand another minute. The clammy hands, the nausea, the chilly fingers? They ain’t got nothin’ on how the next couple of months will likely go… if ED’s past behavior is an indicator of future actions.
That was our fun for the day. How was yours?
Tonight was Back to School night. It’s exhilarating, it’s a fresh start. The kids all get to meet their new teachers, we get packets of information, and we look forward to the first day of school. Back to the structure of daily homework, the routine of the school schedule, school programs, lunch money, and new friends. The kids were bouncing off of the walls they were so excited.
We did the drill and picked up another packet of information from the school office. Since we’re in the middle of this little bit of ugliness, we collect paper like we’re the worst tree killers ever. We have more notebooks full of calendars, letters, notes, and e-mails than Heinz makes pickles. Collecting further “evidence” is part of everything we do. Tonight was no exception.
Waiting for us at the office was the printout from the School Nurse showing the health history for each of our kiddos. This is really designed to back up two things–one, that my husband picks the kids up far more when they are actually sent home and two, that their absences from school when they’re with us are really due to illness. You see their absences this past year exceeded the district standard and we got some nasty-grams from them urging us to keep their attendance regular. I know. We don’t need the reminder. But it will be a good little exhibit when we stand in front of the judge next week.
The best part about this little exercise is that it brought a moment of total levity to a day that was otherwise absolutely serious. We spent the vast majority of today in pre-trial conference with our attorney, so laughter was a beautiful thing. I bet you’ll have a good chuckle, too.
Here are some of the reasons our fantastically hilarious kiddos had for checking in with the School Nurse last year:
I laughed so hard at some of these, my sides hurt. The best part was that we discussed them in the van and we all had a good laugh together. Some of the stories were pretty good (”Well, the hangnail WAS bleeding…” and “My ears have never itched before, I was worried.”). I needed a giggle. We all did.
After reading the lists generated just for our kids, I would LOVE to know what reasons your kids have come up with for visiting the nurse. Do share…
This is the part on the roller-coaster ride where the bottom falls out and your stomach drops down to your knees. Have I mentioned that this custody thing is hard… and bad… and ugly? It never ceases to amaze me the new lows to which she will stoop.
We’re in close range of our court date now and I had forgotten how desperate things get. It was a slap in the face reminder today when our daycare provider (the awesome one who has taken the kids on field trips to everywhere fun all summer) called to tell me that The Egg Donor (ED) had called Social Services on her and had come to pick up the kids.
Our daycare provider had an appointment and decided to take the kids with her, as there is a park nearby where they could play for an hour, rather than leave them with the substitute sitter and the little kids. They went to the park (within 50 yards of her appointment) with our daycare provider’s 17-year-old son. They have done many things with him over the past few years, like go fishing at the pond, head over to the rec center by her house, etc. so it would normally have been no big deal.
Well… Eldest Stepdaughter, in on the plot this time, got a cell phone for her birthday from ED. Yep, the cell phone her father, my dear hubby, said “no” to. She’s 12. She needs a cell phone like she needs a hole in the head. But of course, as soon as hubby said no, that cemented the deal for ED. She rushed out and picked it up for her.
Interestingly, the daycare provider (let’s call her T) called me at lunchtime to let me know that ED was supposed to drop off a post-dated check to her today for this week’s care, since school starts next week. She had actually called to have her bring it Monday morning, but ED “forgot” and promised she would deliver it today. She dropped the kids off, as usual, racing away before T even opened the door. Surprise, suprise… no check.
Cut to this afternoon at a store across the street from the park. The kids headed to the store to get some sunscreen and either ED called Eldest Stepdaughter on the new (convenient) cell phone or Eldest Stepdaughter called ED from the new cell phone. Either way, it was a beautifully crafted thing. ED acted surprised that the kids were at the park, and now the store across the street, with the 17-year-old. She was appalled when Eldest Stepdaughter told ED that they had been there “for hours” and T had left them there with her son.
Enter ED’s call to Social Services, who will not show up if your children are sleeping in an animal feces-infested home, but will rush to the aid of three older children in the company of a 17-year-old. Whatever. Note that the kids babysitter two summers ago was only 15 and no one seemed to have an issue with that at all. And when the girls (10 and 8 at the time) arrived home on the bus 2 years ago to an apartment (ED’s and her former boyfriend–needle-user boy) with no one home, Social Services was completely uninterested. But now? When they are in absolutely no danger whatsoever, they show up… large and in charge.
ED rushed to the store and picked the kids up from Social Services, oh so grateful for their interference this time and did her best impression of a parent that actually gives a crap. I’m sure it was an Oscar-worthy performance. Too bad we didn’t capture it all on film.
The long and short of it is that now Social Services has an open investigation against the daycare provider, which means that her Licensing Board gets contacted and she has to tell all of her parents that she has an investigation pending against her. I have no doubt that her business will suffer.
And guess when our parenting time starts? Yep… tomorrow. So we’re out of daycare for the rest of the week, ED saves herself $300 (at least until we get into court since she technically has to give 2 weeks notice), and she’s really stuck it to T who committed the awful crime of being really awesome to our kids for the summer (did I mention that she paid for those million field trips out of her own pocket - no extra charge to ED?) and giving ED a $50/week break on her rates.
I imagine that the crazy one thinks this will play well in court, but I think otherwise. I think she shot herself in the foot… again. T, on the fence before about testifying for us, is now completely committed to being there, with all of her notes on the condition the kids were in when ED dropped them off, how late they were staying up, how many times she left their meds behind, how they told her all about hiding the cell phone from Dad at Mom’s behest (oh yeah), etc. And we’ll be sure to include how traumatic it must be for three young ones to be removed from a local shopping establishment by Social Services… and their Egg Donor… when they’re just doing what they’ve been doing all summer long.
It’s getting deep. I think I need to invest in some good waders…
As you know if you have read my previous posts (Wal-ternate Reality and Will The Real Crazy People Please Stand Up), Wal-Mart and I have an ongoing love/hate relationship. They are by far the cheapest in the area to buy just about everything, including groceries and, with a household of six, I’m pretty much locked into purchasing from them.
This does not mean that I like it. It’s usually crowded and noisy and crazy and I’ve had so many issues there. Alas, I’m a shopping sheep and take the path of least resistance. That said, I ran out of contacts again last week. In Wal-ternate Reality I needed contacts, too, and actually made a trip to the eye doctor inside of Wal-Mart so that I could order some. Read the post for the insanity of that particular trip. Suffice it to say that I struggled with getting them to enter my prescription and it ended up being a pretty funny (albeit frustrating) moment.
Flash forward to now. My prescription still hasn’t been entered into their system. Funny how it doesn’t actually make it in there by osmosis. I cross my fingers and hope that they’ll be able to figure it out if I do it online. At least I don’t have to suffer through talking to them. I get on their friendly website, sign in (because I’ve been to this rodeo before), enter my request, enter all of my eye doctor’s information (the one inside their very own vision center), and submit. I get my e-mail confirmation and I figure–ok, I really just hope–all will be well. At least the website works…
The following day I get a new e-mail from the Wal-Mart online vision center…
My eye doctor? The one inside of their vision center? The one that’s actually ten feet from the desk where the vision center employees sit?
They were UNABLE to reach her to confirm my prescription…
So they cancelled my order…
My immediate thought is that this particular vision center should be put of its misery (and mine). I suddenly have a flash of the Youngest Stepdaughter, who says she’s searching diligently for (insert lost item here), standing in the center of her room… staring at the ceiling. I think she might be perfect for a job like this… AT THE AGE OF TEN. How can these people seriously NOT find the eye doctor in their own office?
I actually laugh… for just a second. I have a short moment in which I wonder how much incompetence gets paid hourly. Then I pick up the phone, take a deep breath, and prepare to explain my story to the voice on the other end.
“Hmmm…. really? Here in our center? I don’t remember actually getting a web order. I’m surprised that it would have been canceled by someone here. Can I just do a phone order for you? Would that work?”
I am so shocked by the reception and the fact that this employee actually sounds like she has a brain in her head that I just go ahead and do the phone order. I was all prepared to argue with them, like I usually have to do. I had my hackles up, I was ready to roll. But the gal on the other end of the phone line was actually pleasant… AND helpful. It was a moment of sheer joy, I must tell you.
Even better? Last week my husband stopped by to pick them up for me and they were THERE… no hassle… the right prescription… the right quantity… nothing was wrong.
Even better than that? Now my prescription is actually in the system!
Miracles do still happen. Right here on earth!
I was jammin’ to this song on the radio yesterday. I needed the message. It reminded me that God is bigger than all of the boogeymen in our lives, particularly Family Court and The Egg Donor. He’s here, and He’s right now. We get our strength from Him. While I hear the voices telling me that things will be bad and wrong and awful forever, if I stop and listen I can hear His voice of truth…
Voice Of Truth
Casting Crowns
Oh,what I would do
To have the kind of faith it takes
To climb out of this boat I’m in
Onto the crashing waves
To step out of my comfort zone
Into the realm of the unknown
Where Jesus is,
And he’s holding out his hand
But the waves are calling out my name
and they laugh at me
Reminding me of all the times
I’ve tried before and failed
The waves they keep on telling me
time and time again
“Boy, you’ll never win,
you’ll never win.”
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
the voice of truth says “do not be afraid!”
and the voice of truth says “this is for my glory”
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
Oh, what I would do
to have the kind of strength it takes
To stand before a giant
with just a sling and a stone
Surrounded by the sound
of a thousand warriors
shaking in their armor
Wishing they’d have had the strength to stand
But the giant’s calling out
my name and he laughs at me
Reminding me of all the times
I’ve tried before and failed
The giant keeps on telling me
time and time again
“Boy you’ll never win,
you’ll never win.”
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
the voice of truth says “do not be afraid!”
and the voice of truth says “this is for my glory”
Out of all the voices calling out to me
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
but the stone was just the right size
to put the giant on the ground
and the waves they don’t seem so high
from on top of them looking down
i will soar with the wings of eagles
when i stop and listen to the sound of Jesus
singing over me
But the voice of truth tells me a different story
The voice of truth says do not be afraid
And the voice of truth says this is for my glory
Out of all the voices calling out to me (calling out to me)
I will choose to listen and believe (I will choose to listen and believe)
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth
I will listen and believe
I will listen and believe the voice of truth
I will listen and believe
‘Cause Jesus you are the voice of truth
And I will listen to you.. oh you……..
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