Friday, October 20, 2017

My Husband Sucks At Bowling

With October being Domestic Violence Awareness Month, much of my time has been taken up by nonprofit events and speaking engagements, so I apologize for not having a "real" post ready this week. But what I can do, is catch you up the articles that I have written elsewhere, and also fill you in a bit on what else has been keeping us busy!

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

My Ex's Attorney Is A Killer (Literally)

If you didn't read the last post, "I'm Not There Anymore," I suggest reading that first so that this post makes sense.


It’s been a few days since my day in court, and I’m feeling much better. Overall I wasn’t feeling all that bad to begin with (compared to prior years in court), but either way it always takes a lot out of me.

This whole process has just been ridiculous. As a bit of background on this most current situation that brought us into court, Ex is ordered to pay 50% of all our children's medical, daycare, school, and extra curricular expenses. But about a year ago, he started to fall behind again; which if you are new to this blog, is a constant issue with him. He either doesn't pay the bills and/or child support, I take him to court, he is threatened with jail, and he catches up for a few months on a payment plan, before he stops paying again.

Sensing that we were about to head down the familiar legal intervention path, I told him that if he started paying me a set amount per week, that I would personally eat the cost of anything above and beyond that. The number that I offered him was significantly lower than what expenses actually are, but it would have been worth it just to not have to deal with him. To make the offer sweeter, Mr. Attorney Man graciously offered to waive the fees billed from prior court dates that Ex had not yet paid (since Ex was found in contempt, he has to pay my attorney).

Ex rejected the idea.

Friday, October 6, 2017

I'm Not There Anymore

It’s 6:30am. My husband just left for work, and the kids are sleeping. It’s been raining on and off, so it’s still dark out, and the cars driving on the road outside, are making a whizzing noise on the wet pavement as people rush off to work. A chill hangs in the air and fog has settled so thick outside, that I can’t see the cornfields right outside my front door. It’s exactly the kind of morning where you pull the covers up under your chin and relish the last few minutes you have before your alarm goes off, but I can’t sleep.

It actually feels a lot like the night several years ago when I found myself in bed, opening my laptop, and starting this blog.

I woke up this morning crying, and I’m not sure why. Tears clung to my cheeks as the pillowcase clung to my face, and my nose was running. Maybe I had been dreaming, but the more likely scenario is that even in sleep, I’m still decompressing from the events of yesterday.

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

On Going To Court This Week, Pregnant

Not long ago, The Guy, the kids, and I were in the car. I can’t remember what we were talking about, but at some point I looked into the backseat, and saw that The Girl Child’s eyes were welling up with tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she didn’t answer me. Confused, The Guy repeated my question, and her response to him caught me completely off guard.

“You’re not my real daddy!”

She was visibly upset and by the quiver in her voice as well as the emotion packed behind her words, it was clear that her statement was something that she had been thinking about for a very long time.

Not wanting to jump the wrong way in the conversation, I asked her what she meant by that, and she surprised me with the simplicity of her answer.

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

That Time I Possibly, Accidentally, Went To A Happy Endings Massage Parlor... And Got Beat Up.


Not long ago, I found myself with a Groupon credit that was about to expire, and with it, I wanted to find an experience that I could treat Frisbee Boy's Mom (aka my surrogate mom) to, since she does so much for me.

After ruling out pregnant skydiving and deciding against getting vajazzled (an idea that she did not immediately turn down), I came across a foot massage advertisement. Now typically, because of the loose joints that my genetic condition gives me, I don't enjoy massages. I tried to explain to The Guy once when he talked me into getting a couple’s massage with him.

Ask him about it.

No seriously.

For some reason I agreed to go with him, and I found myself in a spa much fancier than is acceptable for my class of human. The Guy was lying on a massage table over on his side of the room, making relaxed, groany sex noises, and I was over on my side whimpering in pain.

My massage ended when the masseuse dislocated my rib and I burst into tears.

So when I saw via Groupon that getting just a foot only massage was an option, I figured I’d give it a whirl!

That is, until I really took a look at the wording of the advertisement; “where you come to have all your tensions, of every kind, released, as we hit just the right spot. No one leaves until they have been completely satisfied in every way."

Hum. Now I'm not always the brightest crayon in the box, but even I began to question what goes on there…

But then I found another place that looked more legit, so I bought two sessions, and that is where this story really starts to get weird.

A couple weeks later, Frisbee Boy's Mom and I showed up bright and early to have our feet massaged. I was immediately surprised and impressed at how authentically Asian the decor of the place was. From the detailed wall hangings to the ornate furniture, it felt like I had just walked in off the streets of China.

I was a little disappointed when I was told that being pregnant, they would not be able to massage the bottoms of my feet due to the risk of inducing labor, but I didn't want to complain so I kept my mouth shut and pretended that I was totally fine booking a massage to have the tops of my feet rubbed.

Because that's totally the type of foot rub people enjoy. The boney part.

Friday, September 15, 2017

Grand Finale

*If you are viewing on mobile, select the web version to de-fuzz the photos*

First We Were Three, 
And Then We Were Four.
Now We're Completing Our Family, 
By Adding One More!

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

You Are Never Going To Believe This


Heeeelllllooooo everyone!


I feel like these last few months have just run over me; some great, other parts not-so-great, and a few moments have just been insane.

Can we talk about “insane,” for a few minutes here? Because here is something that I cannot even wrap my head around, and I’d love it if you all could join me in shock, awe, and horror:

Set Previous Stage:
Do you remember the last time I took my ex to court? It was the 3rd or 4th time we had gone due to his failure to pay child support, and as usual he whined and cried that he was poor, basically homeless, and had not a penny to his name. Then, in a shocking twist, it came out that he was married and had new kids. He begged and pleaded for one more chance to make things right, because his “kids” (not referring to the ones he abandoned) needed him, and the judge bought the whole damn charade.

Set Recent Stage: Last December, after being given another opportunity to stay out of jail and pay down his arrearages, my ex stopped contributing to the kids medical bills, daycare costs, etc, and fell behind on paying child support. I offered him an agreement to get caught up, just so we could stay out of court, he denied it, and I filed a court petition.

Set Current Stage: My ex hired an attorney. Yep! The man cannot afford to pay his child support, yet he can afford an attorney to explain why he shouldn't have to pay child support. Oh but wait! He actually CAN afford support, because after lying on his financial affadavits all these years, after hiring an attorney who has the responsibility to have his client surrender certain financial documents to the other party (us), SURPRISE SURPRISE out comes the truth; the ex and his wife make nearly 100k a year.

You read that right (although at first I didn’t think I had).