Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Control, At Times, Is Now Remote

I called Mrs. Joe the other day asking a question about my car insurance. Part of our separation agreement is that she has to continue to have both our auto insurance payments taken out of her paycheck. I am trying to cancel the payroll deduction for mine and have the bills mailed directly to me. Eventually I will have to take control of it, mind as well be sooner rather than later.

After answering the question, she asked what I was doing with my car insurance. I told her and she became a little irritated.

"What are you doing that for?" she asked.

Since she has left, I have had to take control of the things she took care of. Bills, for example are one thing. To me, all I am trying to do is take control of my car insurance but to her I think it may be her losing control of me.

I am not saying she was a control freak or anything but all of you know there are ways you want things done and they may differ from your partner. That may lead to a disagreement on how to handle a given situation. Compromise usually wins over. But when you become separated you don't have to compromise. You can do what you think is best without having to defend it.

The flip side is you also lose any control of your partner's decision making. I would like to say I don't want any but that would not be honest. There are some things I wished she would do differently.

For example, she often lets the kids eat dinner in the living room, sitting on the floor in front of the television.

That drives me nuts.

To me, dinner is supposed to be at the dinner table, not on the floor with the t.v. on. Is it the end of the world? Obviously not. Am I overreacting? Probably. But to me it is the way dinner should be.

I have come to accept that I have no control over her anymore. She is a good parent and I have to learn to accept the fact that my kids will eat dinner in front of the t.v. from time to time.

With that, I am going to watch some t.v. I won't be eating dinner but I will have full control of the remote.

I wonder if there is any wrestling on.

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Monday, March 16, 2009

Did Momma Say There’d Be Days Like This?

I woke up a half an hour late this morning. The Champ was already nestled in on the couch watching cartoons but Peanut was not awake yet.

After a too quick shower, I hurried up the stairs to get dressed. I remembered how I pissed my boss off Wednesday before he left town for the rest of the week. Great, now I’ll have to address that when I get in, whenever that might be.

I was in the bathroom putting in my contacts as Peanut stumbled by to join her brother. Little did she know the t.v. was going off in a matter of minutes so they could start getting ready for school. I guess that would be my fault for not getting her up before my shower.

After getting dressed, I tried to motivate the kids to do the same. They weren’t in the mood. When did they start playing Yogi Bear cartoons again? I ended up simply turning off the t.v. That wasn’t too well received by either child.

After getting the kids dressed, I tried to get them fed. The Champ was good, leftover pancakes from yesterday. Peanut? Not so much. After negotiating five minutes for cereal she took two bites and was done. What do I do, spend more time debating breakfast or move on to getting out the door?

After loading up the backpacks with lunches, homework and papers for the school, I asked the kids to get their coats on. Peanut declared she didn’t want to go to school, she wanted to go to mommy’s. Reasoning with a 3 year old obviously failed, the crying began, the delay continued.

Peanut’s meltdown continued as we arrived at daycare. There she lay, under the table, her coat still on, crying for her mother. I tried to calm her down but it was no use. How f-ing difficult is it to leave your kid when they are like that?

I dropped The Champ off and made it to work 20 minutes late.

The rest of today eased up. By the end, I was mentally exhausted. I snapped at the kids and put them to bed early. After, as I stood in the kitchen making them their lunches a wave of emotion came over me. I felt angry with myself for snapping at them at bet time. They didn’t deserve it, I thought.

I then became angry at Mrs. Joe for creating this mess. I then questioned myself. What could I have done differently today, that Thursday night, since she left, before she left?

I finished up the day’s to-do’s, opened up a beer, wrapping up this post and going to bed.

I hope tomorrow is better.


Friday, March 06, 2009

Usually Due To Long Lines At Football Games

My little girl is growing up. Peanut is now done with diapers and pull-ups except at bedtime.

She is doing very well. Daycare is very helpful and Mrs. Joe seems to be actively trying to get her potty trained.

I, on the other hand, have been a little lazy.

When we were potty training The Champ, I was very involved. Maybe cause there weren’t as many distractions in my life or maybe because I could just throw some Cheerios into the toilet and have him fire away.

Either way, I just haven’t been proactive.

One night last week after I got out of work, I picked up Peanut & The Champ from my sister’s and took them to dinner. Not that it would have made a difference but this was the first time Peanut was out with me and did not have a diaper or pull-up on.

After dinner The Champ asked to go to the bathroom. We were close to them so I let him go alone. When he got back Peanut said she had to go too.

And immediately made a bee-line for the ladies room.

“Whoa little lady, daddy can’t go in there with you.”

As I took her hand and led her into a public men’s room for the first time, I realized I had a little more work to do than when I would take The Champ to the bathroom.

With The Champ, I didn’t have to worry other than telling him not to touch anything. With Peanut, that was going to be difficult. I helped her up onto the seat after lining it with half a roll of toilet paper.

So I can say we survived the experience.

I didn’t even have to explain what the urinals were.


Monday, March 02, 2009

Not The Close Contact They Were Expecting

It was about ten o’clock, Thursday night. Peanut & The Champ were sound asleep and I had just finished watching an episode of Lost. I am watching last season on DVD thanks to a friend from work.

I got ready for bed, kissed the kids goodnight and crawled under the covers.

As I lay there, a familiar feeling came over me. A feeling I used to get on Thursday nights back when Mrs. Joe was still home, long before her admittance of an affair, her moving out and the attempts of reconciliation.

Back then I thought it was due to being anxious while she was out with her girlfriend. Once in awhile, she would come home a little late, a little drunk and a little horny. At the time, I thought it was pretty hot having her crawl into bed looking for love.

Then I found out she would go to him after she left her girlfriend.

Either way, that "sixth sense" was back and I wasn’t going to be played again.

I called Mrs. Joe’s phone. No answer. I tried her cell, same thing. I then called my cousin and asked him to come over. He knows the whole story and when I told him what was up, him and his girlfriend said they would be right over. I got dressed and waited for them. They arrived about ten minutes later.

I then left to go to Mrs. Joe’s apartment. She lives only a few blocks away. I told my cousin to call my cell in 15 minutes. I remember now that I never told him what to do if I didn’t answer.

As I turned the corner onto Mrs. Joe’s street I saw it, his green pickup, in a parking lot next to her building. I parked on the street in front of her apartment and sat there for about a minute.

Then I went in.

I walked up the flight of stairs to her door and knocked. Knocked twice and then a third time. I then heard someone walk by the door. Whoever it was was going from the bedroom towards the bathroom. The footsteps came back to the door.

“Who is it” asked Mrs. Joe.

“Open the fucking door” I replied.

She actually did. Can you believe it?

And there she was in nothing but a bathrobe holding a cosmopolitan.

I said something to her as I walked past, heading for her bedroom. As I turned the corner, there he was, standing in his underwear. I remember that he must have had 4-5 inches on me in height and weighed a good 50lbs more. But I remember one thing.


Along with the Hanes he was wearing, he had a look of fear on him.

As I walked up to him, I said something about Mrs. Joe.

And I belted him right in the mouth.

Boys and girls, it was on.

We mixed it up pretty good while Mrs. Joe was trying to pull me away from him. I got him to the floor somehow but he ended up wrapping his arms around my neck, pinning my head to the floor. Things became a little clearer when I couldn’t breathe very well.

I told Mrs. Joe to tell him to let me go. He eventually did. As I got up Mrs. Joe started saying something to me but I reacted in a way I had never done before.

I slapped her across the face and walked out the door.

I went back home, expecting the cops to pay me a visit. My cousin and his girlfriend couldn’t believe the story I told them. I had a good bruise starting on my forehead and my right hand was bloodied from popping him in the mouth but I felt good. I finally stood up to them. I finally said no more.

The cops never showed. My cousin and his girlfriend left about an hour later. I made it to work on Friday, telling the story a half dozen times. I called a lawyer. I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon. I hope to file for divorce as soon as possible.

Part of me is relieved. The path is set out in front of me now. It is wide and clear with nothing to trip me up.

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