TGIM
Weekends are just getting to be too much to deal with.
Friday was "kindergarten roundup." Yee-hah. I was expecting some sort of rodeo-type event, with kindergarten teachers dressed in chaps and spurs trying to lasso the kids they wanted in their classes. Instead, we walked into the office where we were greeted by a bitchy school secretary who made copies of all Bob's pertinent information and then shuttled us into a room with the school nurse, who handed me more paperwork to complete. So much paperwork that I started to wonder if I weren't actually closing on a house instead of registering my 5 year old for kindergarten. While I filled out the numerous forms, Bob chatted up the nurse, got his hearing tested and took a vision test (20/20--he sees better than I do).
And of course, the forms wouldn't let me off the hook. Oh, no. There at the bottom of page 2--"has your child ever been diagnosed with any mental health condition and/or ADHD?"
I left it blank and just filled in his medication information. They can figure it out.
The nurse didn't say much about it, just asked if he was "doing okay" on his medications. Um, well, we're still working on finding that "magic combination." We'll keep you posted.
I have to say, though, when we first got there, some other kid (maybe 3rd grade or so) was ushered in by a gym coach, who announced this kid needed to see the principal because he was having a problem with choking people in the gym. Maybe it makes me a horrible person, but I smiled a little bit, and on the inside, I jumped up and down and shouted "hooray! There are others!"
So Bob started the Trileptal on Friday. Over the weekend, I didn't notice any ill effects from the medication, but by Sunday I noticed Bob seemed considerably less edgy and irritable. He didn't have any raging fits. His smart mouth is still in full force, but I think that's genetic. The point is, I didn't feel like I was walking on eggshells and handling him with kid gloves to avoid a meltdown.
God, I hope this is a turn in the right direction.
I got March's child support check Friday. Sent certified mail, of course, meaning I had to go stand in line at the fucking post office to get it. It was sent with a letter advising me he had enclosed receipts from three doctors' appointments for which he had paid copays, and he had deducted my "obligation" for these copays from March's child support.
Nevermind the $230 I put on my credit card in December to settle up the bill with the psych office. Nevermind the $30 (and sometimes more) a month I've paid out in Bob's prescriptions every month for the past fucking year. Nevermind that he owes me AT LEAST $250 in "uncovered medical expenses" reimbursements AND his child support for April was due yesterday. Fucking bastard.
But like I told Ben, I'm just pleased whenever I get ANY money from that prick, so fuck it.
Then today I get a dbmail from him that his 80+ year old aunt and uncle are having a 65th anniversary party 4 days after our trial, and he thinks it's very important that Bob attend since I refused to allow him to attend db's family reunion last summer, and that for my convenience, he will pick Bob up at 2:00pm at the community center and return him there at 8:00pm.
Oh, he will, will he? Mighty generous of you, db. But I don't fucking think so.
Obviously he thinks we're going to go to trial on the 10th and the judge is going to say "this poor fella has been unnecessarily and falsely accused of child abuse and has been wrongly denied visitation and parenting rights. Shame on you, Mitzi Green." As fucking if. Not to mention that weekend, by the current schedule NOT TAKING INTO CONSIDERATION he doesn't have unsupervised visitation anymore, is MY weekend with Bob. And I'll be fucked if I'm going to give up a Saturday with Bob so that he can go hang with db and all of his elderly relatives who don't give two shits about Bob OR db, for that matter.
So my response was "until further order of the court, I am unable to consent to any unsupervised visitation." Put that in your pipe and smoke it, motherfucker.
Tonight, kindergarten orientation. I hope it doesn't take long. Bob and I will be going alone, and by 5:00, he's going to be hungry, tired, and ready to call it a fucking day.
Oh, and so will I.
Friday was "kindergarten roundup." Yee-hah. I was expecting some sort of rodeo-type event, with kindergarten teachers dressed in chaps and spurs trying to lasso the kids they wanted in their classes. Instead, we walked into the office where we were greeted by a bitchy school secretary who made copies of all Bob's pertinent information and then shuttled us into a room with the school nurse, who handed me more paperwork to complete. So much paperwork that I started to wonder if I weren't actually closing on a house instead of registering my 5 year old for kindergarten. While I filled out the numerous forms, Bob chatted up the nurse, got his hearing tested and took a vision test (20/20--he sees better than I do).
And of course, the forms wouldn't let me off the hook. Oh, no. There at the bottom of page 2--"has your child ever been diagnosed with any mental health condition and/or ADHD?"
I left it blank and just filled in his medication information. They can figure it out.
The nurse didn't say much about it, just asked if he was "doing okay" on his medications. Um, well, we're still working on finding that "magic combination." We'll keep you posted.
I have to say, though, when we first got there, some other kid (maybe 3rd grade or so) was ushered in by a gym coach, who announced this kid needed to see the principal because he was having a problem with choking people in the gym. Maybe it makes me a horrible person, but I smiled a little bit, and on the inside, I jumped up and down and shouted "hooray! There are others!"
So Bob started the Trileptal on Friday. Over the weekend, I didn't notice any ill effects from the medication, but by Sunday I noticed Bob seemed considerably less edgy and irritable. He didn't have any raging fits. His smart mouth is still in full force, but I think that's genetic. The point is, I didn't feel like I was walking on eggshells and handling him with kid gloves to avoid a meltdown.
God, I hope this is a turn in the right direction.
I got March's child support check Friday. Sent certified mail, of course, meaning I had to go stand in line at the fucking post office to get it. It was sent with a letter advising me he had enclosed receipts from three doctors' appointments for which he had paid copays, and he had deducted my "obligation" for these copays from March's child support.
Nevermind the $230 I put on my credit card in December to settle up the bill with the psych office. Nevermind the $30 (and sometimes more) a month I've paid out in Bob's prescriptions every month for the past fucking year. Nevermind that he owes me AT LEAST $250 in "uncovered medical expenses" reimbursements AND his child support for April was due yesterday. Fucking bastard.
But like I told Ben, I'm just pleased whenever I get ANY money from that prick, so fuck it.
Then today I get a dbmail from him that his 80+ year old aunt and uncle are having a 65th anniversary party 4 days after our trial, and he thinks it's very important that Bob attend since I refused to allow him to attend db's family reunion last summer, and that for my convenience, he will pick Bob up at 2:00pm at the community center and return him there at 8:00pm.
Oh, he will, will he? Mighty generous of you, db. But I don't fucking think so.
Obviously he thinks we're going to go to trial on the 10th and the judge is going to say "this poor fella has been unnecessarily and falsely accused of child abuse and has been wrongly denied visitation and parenting rights. Shame on you, Mitzi Green." As fucking if. Not to mention that weekend, by the current schedule NOT TAKING INTO CONSIDERATION he doesn't have unsupervised visitation anymore, is MY weekend with Bob. And I'll be fucked if I'm going to give up a Saturday with Bob so that he can go hang with db and all of his elderly relatives who don't give two shits about Bob OR db, for that matter.
So my response was "until further order of the court, I am unable to consent to any unsupervised visitation." Put that in your pipe and smoke it, motherfucker.
Tonight, kindergarten orientation. I hope it doesn't take long. Bob and I will be going alone, and by 5:00, he's going to be hungry, tired, and ready to call it a fucking day.
Oh, and so will I.
posted by Mitzi Green at 8:39 AM
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