"Fuck My Life."*
(*quoted from the movie "Superbad," which probably won't win any Academy Awards, but won my heart with that one line alone. It's my new motto.)
I can't do this shit anymore.
I emailed db yesterday around noon to let him know Bob was being released. His response: "If he is being released today you will have to meet me today at 4:00 pm for my make up day. Also I will have my make up weekend this weekend for time that I have lost." I said, um, no--that's not the case. I guess I was supposed to pick up Bob at the hospital at 3:00, and immediately drive him into the city to be picked up by db, with whom he would spend 4 hours, then drive back to the city to pick him up and bring him home, where he would shower, go to bed, and then get up and go to school?
I don't fucking think so.
So db called my cell phone at 4:00 and asked if I was bringing Bob. "I already answered that question." Then I hung up. He called back, I didn't answer. He sent me emails saying I'm in contempt of court and if I didn't bring Bob to him on Friday, he would file a motion for contempt. I didn't respond but my thoughts were "bring it the fuck on, pal."
Last night, Bob asked if he could ask the neighbor kid to play. I told him yes, but that he was to remain OUTSIDE, and if the kid didn't want to come out, he was to come straight home and not go in their house. Fifteen minutes later, when I didn't hear kids, I walked next door and knocked on the door. The kid answered the door, and Bob was inside. I told him to get outside. I told him (in a very calm, cool, collected and authoritative voice, mind you) that he had been told to stay outside.
"I didn't hear you."
Yes, you did. And since you didn't follow directions, you need to come home now.
"No! I'm not coming!"
Oh, Jesus--we're back to Square One.
I went to grab him and he vaulted over the small wall around the neighbors' front porch. I started around and he vaulted back over the other side. Neighbor Mom came out at that point and told me the kid had, in fact, been putting on his shoes and coming out, but that he was being slow about it and Bob was waiting inside. I told Bob if that were true, then he could come get a jacket on and play outside, but that from now on, he was to wait OUTSIDE.
"No, I'm not even cold."
Again, in the calm, cool voice, "get home and put on a jacket and then you can play outside."
He stomped toward our house, muttering (loudly) how much he hates anyone who's not a kid.
He called db last night, and db's first words to him were "so they finally let you out of that prison, huh? I'm sorry, you shouldn't have been there, you didn't deserve that."
So no, I didn't have great expectations for today.
He had to sit in time out for mouthing off when I told him he couldn't wear sweats to school and put on the jeans I'd set out, but other than that, it was not a bad morning at all. I dropped him off at school and went in to talk to the principal. I told her I'd call the teacher around lunch time and see how things were going.
The teacher called me first. Bob had spent most of the morning being as horrible (or worse) as before his hospitalization. He was at lunch, but she didn't suspect he'd make it much past noon. So I called the hospital--they are now full. I called a second hospital--they are also full. They suggested I call the place I called this morning, to set up Bob's follow-up care. I called them, and their only suggestion was moving up his intake appointment so we could get his therapy and case management services going sooner than later. Not feeling at all encouraged, I went to pick him up from school.
He was exceptionally lovey, and I was told that, when he wasn't standing on the furniture in the classroom screaming about ripping the teacher in half, he was hugging and kissing all the other kids and adults and telling them he loves them. Fantastic. I took him back to my office, where he busied himself with the "kids in the office" box. Then he started getting bored and making demands. ("I want candy." "I'm thirsty.") And when I told him no, he got hateful and nasty.
I have a 6 year old kid who can't make it through a full day in kindergarten because his behavior and emotional state are out of control. He's on more medications than my 96 year old grandfather, and none of it seems to be making a shit bit of difference. No one has any answers. Everyone I call tells me to call someone else. And yes, my child's health is the number one primary concern--but my husband and I have jobs, jobs that we're supposed to work during the day, jobs we need in order to pay our mortgage and bills, jobs we can't very well do when we're constantly either going to appointments or picking up a child who has been suspended from school and cannot be controlled without physical restraint.
And in 4 months (or less), I will have an infant to consider, as well.
I wouldn't wish this bullshit on my worst fucking enemy. I truly have no clue which way to turn next.
I can't do this shit anymore.
I emailed db yesterday around noon to let him know Bob was being released. His response: "If he is being released today you will have to meet me today at 4:00 pm for my make up day. Also I will have my make up weekend this weekend for time that I have lost." I said, um, no--that's not the case. I guess I was supposed to pick up Bob at the hospital at 3:00, and immediately drive him into the city to be picked up by db, with whom he would spend 4 hours, then drive back to the city to pick him up and bring him home, where he would shower, go to bed, and then get up and go to school?
I don't fucking think so.
So db called my cell phone at 4:00 and asked if I was bringing Bob. "I already answered that question." Then I hung up. He called back, I didn't answer. He sent me emails saying I'm in contempt of court and if I didn't bring Bob to him on Friday, he would file a motion for contempt. I didn't respond but my thoughts were "bring it the fuck on, pal."
Last night, Bob asked if he could ask the neighbor kid to play. I told him yes, but that he was to remain OUTSIDE, and if the kid didn't want to come out, he was to come straight home and not go in their house. Fifteen minutes later, when I didn't hear kids, I walked next door and knocked on the door. The kid answered the door, and Bob was inside. I told him to get outside. I told him (in a very calm, cool, collected and authoritative voice, mind you) that he had been told to stay outside.
"I didn't hear you."
Yes, you did. And since you didn't follow directions, you need to come home now.
"No! I'm not coming!"
Oh, Jesus--we're back to Square One.
I went to grab him and he vaulted over the small wall around the neighbors' front porch. I started around and he vaulted back over the other side. Neighbor Mom came out at that point and told me the kid had, in fact, been putting on his shoes and coming out, but that he was being slow about it and Bob was waiting inside. I told Bob if that were true, then he could come get a jacket on and play outside, but that from now on, he was to wait OUTSIDE.
"No, I'm not even cold."
Again, in the calm, cool voice, "get home and put on a jacket and then you can play outside."
He stomped toward our house, muttering (loudly) how much he hates anyone who's not a kid.
He called db last night, and db's first words to him were "so they finally let you out of that prison, huh? I'm sorry, you shouldn't have been there, you didn't deserve that."
So no, I didn't have great expectations for today.
He had to sit in time out for mouthing off when I told him he couldn't wear sweats to school and put on the jeans I'd set out, but other than that, it was not a bad morning at all. I dropped him off at school and went in to talk to the principal. I told her I'd call the teacher around lunch time and see how things were going.
The teacher called me first. Bob had spent most of the morning being as horrible (or worse) as before his hospitalization. He was at lunch, but she didn't suspect he'd make it much past noon. So I called the hospital--they are now full. I called a second hospital--they are also full. They suggested I call the place I called this morning, to set up Bob's follow-up care. I called them, and their only suggestion was moving up his intake appointment so we could get his therapy and case management services going sooner than later. Not feeling at all encouraged, I went to pick him up from school.
He was exceptionally lovey, and I was told that, when he wasn't standing on the furniture in the classroom screaming about ripping the teacher in half, he was hugging and kissing all the other kids and adults and telling them he loves them. Fantastic. I took him back to my office, where he busied himself with the "kids in the office" box. Then he started getting bored and making demands. ("I want candy." "I'm thirsty.") And when I told him no, he got hateful and nasty.
I have a 6 year old kid who can't make it through a full day in kindergarten because his behavior and emotional state are out of control. He's on more medications than my 96 year old grandfather, and none of it seems to be making a shit bit of difference. No one has any answers. Everyone I call tells me to call someone else. And yes, my child's health is the number one primary concern--but my husband and I have jobs, jobs that we're supposed to work during the day, jobs we need in order to pay our mortgage and bills, jobs we can't very well do when we're constantly either going to appointments or picking up a child who has been suspended from school and cannot be controlled without physical restraint.
And in 4 months (or less), I will have an infant to consider, as well.
I wouldn't wish this bullshit on my worst fucking enemy. I truly have no clue which way to turn next.
posted by Mitzi Green at 12:56 PM
2 Comments:
There's no answer, just to keep plugging on. WTF's up w/db and make up visits ... that's laughable. You're going through the hardest part and it won't be easy. I wish I was somewhere near you so to give you a hug. I'd tell you things will be alright, but for a while they won't, but in the end, what you're doing now is a huge attempt at give Bob the best foundation you can give him for him to deal with life when he's older - db's db and that is never going to change. He'll put on the mask of the concerned parent, the good parent, the self-righteous parent, but he will always divert back to db status. It's hard because others will see what he wants them to see and I've had to learn to live with that as well. Zak's dad has always put me in a bad light because I'm the mom and yet I'm the non-custodial parent. It's what happens when a man you think you know turns out to be a connving aging pedofile who's target group has spurned him so he adapts his target group to little boys and lures in unsuspecting moms in a turmoil of their own with stability and security. I was maniuplated and when I finally saw the truth of the situation I got out. But if you ask any of the people who know my ex, who live up where they do, they will tell a completely different story about me and how I'm a bad mother who knowingly put my son in a bad place.
It's hard to deal with other's perceptions of you, but those who know you, who have gone through what you're going through know the real you and have compassion, sympathy and sometimes empathy.
Be well, you're doing the right thing by keeping your boundaries and rules.
I am so sorry.
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