Confession #11

For personal reasons, I've removed confession #11. It was a part of my life long before this season in time...therefore I don't feel it's necessary to share.

Confession #10

I've been waiting for almost a year to have my day in court with

Ex. My attorney informed me that the Sheriffs Department will be serving them within the week. After several days of not hearing anything I call the Sheriffs department and ask for an update.

"Let me give you the number of the Deputy who is assigned to serve him," the operator said.

I dial the number and the Deputy is a woman. I ask her about it and she said, "Darn! I was just there serving his wife." The Deputy questions, "'Ratface' right?"

"Yes." I answer, confused. "I"m not serving Ratface. I'm serving Ex." I clarify.

"Yes, I realize that. Ratface is being served in a different case," she informs me.

I start laughing, as does the Deputy. "You mean," I continue, "that Ratface and Ex are both being served? Who is it?" I ask knowing it has to be her ex filing for full custody of their son.

"I can't tell you that," the Deputy informs me sadly. "That's classified. Now I have to come back here tomorrow I guess and serve him."

We say our goodbyes and I let her know I'll be calling the next day for an update.

The next morning I call the Deputy. "Were you able to serve Ex today?" I asked.

"Oh no. I went back yesterday after I got off the phone with you and gave them to Ratface." The Deputy answers laughing. "You're 'Lapin' right?"

"Yes." I answer

"When she opened the door I informed her I had papers for Ex as well. She got a funny look and asked if they were from you. I told her yes and she got a look on her face that spoke volumes." The Deputy said. "I know it wasn't professional but I couldn't help but smirk. She said, 'This is so irritating.'"

We both laughed and I thanked her.

Confession #9

Lough Out Loud. That has been my motto for the last several weeks to cope.
You know, your children don't realize that they're stabbing you in the heart and ripping it out with their bare hands. Especially teenage daughters. Or maybe they do.
A couple of weeks ago I took my daughters to a counseling appointment. Without going into why, I felt it best to take them in. Their father insisted he and his pet, I mean wife, "Warthog," be there.
So, forgive me but I am going to allow you to witness the truest sense of who I was in those two very long hours.
I came into the lobby to wait, Ex and Warthog took the girls to breakfast so they arrived with them, and the girls ran up to me, hugging me, and wanted me to sit with them. I walk past Ex and Warthog, not able to resist the inner grin at the realization that she has gained a noticeable amount of weight. She's maybe five feet tall, her feet were swinging, barely skimming the carpet, as she sat in her chair.
I take out my iPhone and snap a couple of shots of Ex and Warthog to send to my friend.

Text conversation with my friend while I waited:

"At appt in lobby. He brought girls before me and refused to sign document as guarantor. It's Medicaid coverage, he doesn't pay a thing and they refused to sign. He made over $110,000. last year, I was homeless for seven weeks and he can't sign? Schmucks!
LOL...He's wearing jacket I gave him when we were married. I bet Ratface doesn't know."
                                "Tell her LOL! 'Oh Ex, I see u r wearing the jacket I gave u'...lol."
"Yeah I'd love to. Don't think that's the best way to start appt. I am wearing bra he liked. She's gained weight. She's like 5 foot flat and looks pregnant."
                                "Court is coming soon and things will get corrected...And she will pack on the                                          pounds being married to him. lol"
Not holding my breath. No ones jumping in my corner to fight battles yet."
                                "You never know...think positive. And stay pleasant and professional."
"They don't even realize I took pic and she's looking right at me. Moron.
She doesn't even have a chin. Oops, I'm sorry. She has three...
This might actually be fun."
                                "She's getting fatter...and I can see why she married him...they match energy-                                         wise. Could be fun."
"I truly accidentally dropped something right in front of them and stooped down to pick it up...I realized moments later and felt like Elle Wood in 'Legally Blonde.' Remember when they practice dropping something in front of guy they like. I didn't 'snap' though. Ha ha."
                                "Sureeeeee you didn't"
"LOL...well I did realize when I was picking it up so to make sure I used my best form to remind her I have the legs of a gazelle and she has the legs of a turtle."
                                "Good thinking"
"I just found more motivation to do elliptical. She keeps staring at me and I am acting like they'e not even there."
                                "Good choice."
"She thinks she can hide her fat with her HUGE purse but nothings that big."
                                "LOL"
"I have never been so katty. But is it katty if it's the truth you speak? :-)"
                                "Nope. You're a truth teller!"
"She keeps calling my 8yr old over and now just forced her to lean against her lap. Playing with her hair like she's the mom. Oops I'm sorry. She doesn't have a lap. She has a ledge."
                                "Meannnnnnnn LOL Feel sorry for her! She has to live with Ex."
"No...I don't feel sorry for her. She's got what she wanted. And as hard as she wants my girls...they'll catch on. She's the slime that collects in turtles skin folds under their shells."
                                "I was joking"
"I know. But I'm not. Wink"
                                "You seem pretty angry at her LOL"
"Uhm...I'm not sure. Something though. Oh! They've called for us. I'll text you later."

The hour that followed was awful. Ex kept making sure to include Ratface in on the discussion with the therapist, insisting she was a part of their lives and knew things about them that was important. (They've barely known each other! They only have girls most weekends and have only been married five months!)
I did most of the answering of questions, the girls answered on occasion. The worst moment was when the therapist asked my older daughter who she confides in. She said her father and best friend. Okay, I can deal with that. She's a daddys girl. I already knew that. Then the therapist asks if there is anyone else. She answered, "Ratface."
The shock was like a loud, yet silent, boom. I froze, wanting to maintain my composure. I wink at the "baby" and smile at the child who just thwarted my existence. The pain lingers even now in the retelling.
Ratface and Ex score at my expense and my daughter is playing for their side, scoring the shot.
I'm numb. It's like I'm in surgery and the general anesthesia has worn off but the doctors don't know it and keep cutting away at me. I'm screaming inside, "Please stop! I'm alive! You're hurting me!"
The interview is over and the therapist takes us to a room where the girls can pick a treat. On the way out we're to walk up some stairs and Ratface insist I go ahead of her. I do so and lengthen my legs and sway my hips as elegantly and powerfully as I can, to let her know I'm not down.
As we enter the lobby Ratface asks to speak with the therapist alone. I'm outraged. How dare she! Who does she think she is!?
"What is Ratface talking to the therapist about?" I ask Ex. "I don't know." he lies.
When I married him I thought him to be the most honest person in the world. I now know that was an act on my behalf.
It's a Friday so I encourage Ratface and Ex to take the girls as the only thing left was to make an appointment. They take the girls for the weekend and I'm seething, bleeding, and racked with pain. My own flesh and blood has not only betrayed me but has injured me as well.
I've no idea what my daughter was thinking. I suspect it was a passive/aggressive move on her part. She does get angry with me and has since said she would prefer to live with her father. Something that will not happen.
After this event I had 30 minutes to get to my debuting radio show. How was I going to function? How was I going to put on a smile, stop shaking, and do something I had no experience in? Walking from my car to the studio I told myself that I would not allow Ex and Ratface take my education, my future, or this radio show away from me. They are no one to me. They are the cowards that kick the giant when she is down. And yes folks, I am a giant. I have, and will continue to, endure the arrows of their small-minded ways. I will rise above because that is who I am. I will overcome their pettiness and jealousy and rise from the debris they call a life and soar to heights they've only heard of in story books because, heaven knows, they don't possess the intellect to read anything beyond a childs level.
It's okay to be katty at times. God knows, you can't be perfect and hold it in. You'll explode. Find a friend/therapist you trust and let it out. Release the Cracken and move on.
It's not easy but you know what? You're worth it. And when your own flesh and blood betrays you, deliverng the fatal blow...remember she is yours. You are her model. Grace, and dignity never go out of style. Let her have her play thing called "Ratface and Ex," and know that when the time comes in her life when she needs more than what she wants, she will run to you. It is you she will seek out when her "toys" fail her. And they will, I promise.

Confession #8

"Casting pearls before swine," is what I was doing for several weeks after the marriage of the "ex."
The "takeover" was initially slow and then slapped, not only me but my sons as well, in the face. Victim is no stranger to throwing her weight around. I guess I should have put more weight into her ex's statement that it's easier to go along with her than against her.
I offered to meet to get to know each other and when she, figuratively, spat in my face, I answered in kindness. Not until several attempts to build bridges were met with hostility and verbal abuse, on her part, did I finally give up. I now know who she is and the more I learn the less I want to have my children around her.
I've not posted anything because I was in school and it was too much, along with the small claims court, and the kids, and life, and everything that goes along with it. (Forgive my grammar).
Here are the highlights:

• I found out where they were living and when I went at night to get physical address, they called the police on me. Nothing happened as I didn't break any laws.
• Court hearing where Ex pleaded guilty and sentenced to a years probation along with anger management. Victim (I'm changing her name from Victim to Warthog) tried to stare me down...HA! Didn't happen.
• The day of court I began to feel my strength, slowly, return. 
• Ex and Warthog started sending me abusive emails.
• My girls want to go over after school on the weekends they're suppose to be with them but Warthog always has a reason they can't come over until Ex is home.
• Week before finals I come home from library at 12:30 a.m. and my son is on phone arguing with his dad who wanted to call police on me for leaving my girls with their 16 and 20 year old sons. He insisted I should have been there. 
• Same conversation, Warthog gets on phone and tries to chew him out. Son tells her off. Tells her respect is earned, which she hasn't done. As for his father, strangling his brother isn't how he earns it either.
• Warthog gets Ex to cancel sons phone because he's disrespectful. They first text him and tell him how their good, church-going people, not to let his heathen mother influence him. (They didn't say heathen, they inferred it). He told him he doesn't have a father. This made me sad but ALL of this makes me sad.
• Small claims court. Judge wouldn't even hear my case because I titled our contract as "Amendment to divorce." FYI...don't do that. Now I have to go to family court.
• For both Thanksgiving and Christmas, Ex and Warthog were suppose to have girls entire holiday but darn it if something didn't come up that made that impossible. 
• Ex came to get girls for weekend but when he saw me come out with them he took off like a bat out of hell. He then called my daughter and I took her phone. He accused me of a lot of what we both knew were lies and I laughed and said, "I don't know who you think you're talking to but I was there, you and I both know you're lying." He refused to talk to me in person since I blocked his phone # from my phone so I told him over the phone about our daughter having a fever of 103 degrees and hung up. 

When I first started this blog I was in a very low place. I have to tell you, that is no longer the case. I'm doing well in school and experiencing success in other areas of my life. I don't respond to Ex and Warthogs negativity because you can't win. 

My little girls like Warthog and I don't say anything to them contrary to that. They'll figure it out soon enough and my only job is to protect them and to be the best mom I can be. My boys have figured things out and unfortunately they've no respect for their father, let alone for his wife.

Honestly, I've no siblings or parents to support me or help me in any way. One sister does call on occasion but my father died and my mother doesn't want to hear it. I'm in a new area without friends as well and it's been a year next month that I've been here. What I'm getting to is this. Don't ever give up on yourself or who you are. Never give up on your ideals/standards just because others play dirty. You're worth the fight and just when you think things can't get worse, they do. But keep on going and when you least expect it (sorry but it's true) something amazing will fall into your lap and you'll realize you've been changing your course all this time and now, look at your view.

Life is not perfect. I still get down. I still feel alone. I cry. But it's okay. I'm on the fast track of personal growth and that is worth everything to me. I'm like that little kids who was put in a room with a pile of horse manure and when an adult checks in on him he's digging through it with a big smile on his face. 

"What the heck are you doing?" the adult asks in disbelief.

"With all this manure," the replies, "there's gotta be a pony in here somewhere!" 

Look for the pony. Don't cast your pearls before swine and definitely hold out for the good stuff because the longer you hold true to your course, the closer you are to your dreams, desires, and joy.

Confession #7

I'm sitting with my boys, watching them play xbox games with their brother, who lives 1600 miles away, when I hear Ex's voice on my daughters phone. She has it on speaker. He's outside at the curb waiting for them. They gather their things and say, "Bye Mom," as they walk out the door.
I'm stunned. Numb. What's going on? I was fine. I've been fine for days so why all of a sudden am I wanting to cry. I remain on the couch and begin to discretely wipe away tears that betray me. Several minutes go by and the tears, one tiny trail after another, continue to fall when my 16 year old asks me whats wrong. "Nothing, I'm good." I reply, amazed he noticed. He doesn't buy it. Soon all three boys are inquiring and I finally say that I'm fine, and that it doesn't matter, it's silly. A moment later I feel emotion rising and I go to my room, again trying to reassure my boys who aren't buying it.
In my room I'm sobbing. One part of my brain is swimming in emotion as another part is standing back asking, "What in the hell is going on?" I'm caught off-guard by my own emotion. I'm not in love with Ex, so why? I get irritated just by his presence. He's a zealot. An abuser. A no-good lying, smooth-faced hypocrite! So what is going on?
I don't know how long I lay there sobbing when I finally recover enough to decide I need movies. I get up and go to the video store and rent five movies. "The Color Purple," "To The Wonder," "Fried Green Tomatoes," "It Happened One Night," and then, don't laugh, "Marry in a Year." No, I don't even want to marry in five years but Patti Stanger gives a lot of great advice that empowers women so I was hoping to glean some of her wisdom to pick me up now.
I go home, watch the first movie, and tell my boys not to wake me up when they leave in the morning, and fall asleep.
Saturday morning I hear the boys. They've not left yet and I've not slept in as hoped. I go out, and say goodbye to them, reminding them to behave and have a good time. They scoff as they walk out the door. I sit down in the living room and begin to escape watching cable.
My mind keeps taking me to Ex. He's probably getting dressed. My little girls are getting dressed with Victims twin. They're at the church by now. Who else is there? What does she look like? I decide to journal when I look at the clock and realize it's exactly 11am. The time of their ceremony, appropriate. I write my goodbye's to our marriage. To him. What would never be. What was. And on with my own life, vowing to love, nurture, strengthen, and heal all the areas of my heart, life, and spirit. 
They're probably kissing now. I think to myself. Throughout the day I'm crying, watching movies, and journaling. In writing I realize it's the final nail in the coffin of my marriage. Yes, I know, I have a lot of "final nails" in my confessions. I'm not in love with Ex, really. It's that my life, the one of having babies with my one true love, raising a family with my one true love, growing old with my one true love as we watch our grandchildren play, only marrying one time...that's all gone. And being loved, honored, and cherished...that was over. 
My children come home with the dog and ask what I'm watching. It's the "Marry in a Year" dvd and I try to brush it off as something it's not when my daughter picks up the box and reads it. She laughs saying, "Dad didn't need that dvd." Stab in my chest. "What do you mean?" I ask nonchalant, thinking we've been divorced for several years before he got remarried, today. "Well, he and Victim haven't even known each other nine months and now he's married!" she states with a brag-ish tone, pounding the knife further into my chest. 
Confirmation that he never really loved me. Confirmation that I was replaceable. Confirmation that I was right, as I had suspected throughout our marriage. That I was just a body filling a position for him so he could live life as he wanted.
They say you can only know love to the degree that you love yourself. I know that Ex is very limited. He couldn't give me what he didn't have. What I so desperately needed from him. To be loved, accepted, cherished, adored, supported, respected, honored, and so much more yet...I have to apply, just as in algebra, to the right what I've distributed to the left. I can only love others to the degree that I love myself, and...I can only know that love if I am it's true counterpart. 
More tears, more sadness, but no more blame. At least not for this. If I had loved myself the way I desired to receive love, the type of love, maybe I wouldn't be here. Lucky me. Armed with this new and painful truth, I could make changes in my life. More importantly, I could make changes within. I have already begun to celebrate and honor myself in small ways. Now I had a mission to fall in love, with myself, completely, effortlessly, cherishing, adoring, supporting, respecting, honoring, and valuing, every aspect of me. As Carl Gustav Jung says, "Who looks outside, dreams, who looks inside, awakes." Good morning.

Confession #6

It's the week of Ex's wedding. I get an email from him stating that he will pick up the girls Friday night after work, the boys Saturday morning at eight, and that I will need to pick them up after the wedding or they can take the bus home. Yes, "the bus." Now, this is his wedding. His children are celebrating his union with a woman they barely know, and he can't arrange a ride home for them?
I respond asking what time the wedding is over. He doesn't know. I reply telling him, "A bus is not acceptable or appropriate. These are your children, celebrating/supporting you, and Victim. Certainly that is worth a ride home. I'm fairly certain Victim's family would only be too happy to take them home."
He promptly responds accusing me of being a hypocrite. I should be more supportive of his marriage, and that they're leaving right after the wedding. He will, however, "find someone who is willing and supportive to do this."
Now, I don't know about you...but that was the straw that broke my camels back. I've ignored his rude, scathing, accusatory emails to this point but I was done. In previous days he had refused to help buy clothes, and supplies for the children to start school. He tries to prevent me from participating in my daughters baptism. His fiance is trying to give me advice on co-parenting. I end up keeping his dog, as well as the children, on his weekend to have them so he can go on a honeymoon! Yes, even his dog. And I'm not supportive?
I wrote back and told him everything I've been holding back for years. Well, not everything but the things that came to mind, he got it. And at the end I wrote, "Bottom line...it doesn't matter what you say about me, how you act towards me...God knows the truth and you can't pull the wool over His eyes." Then I quoted, "The Color Purple." You know, the part towards the end where Celie is leaving Albert and he goes to hit her. She turns around and says, *"Everything you've done to the kids and me you've already done to yourself and until you do right by us, everything you even think about will crumble."
Honestly, it felt good to finally tell my truth and not worry about upsetting the apple cart. I've tried for all these years to keep it amicable between us and for what? It's like I was one of those crazy people trying to keep a bunch of plates spinning at the same time as well as juggling a bunch of knives. I don't recommend it.
It's Thursday and I am feeling pretty good. I kept thinking I should prepare myself because my ex was getting married and well, shouldn't I be upset? Nothing. Not until I hear his voice Friday afternoon on my daughters phone. She had it on speaker. My eyes began to water, and I began to fall apart.

*I've altered the quote a bit to fit my circumstances.

Confession #5

The night before my daughters baptism I made sure she took a nice shower, washed her hair really well, and afterwards had a pampering session as we watched television. I painted her toes, and fingers, braided her hair, and let her play games on the PS3 while I sewed her baptism dress, washed everything so it was a crisp white, and made her two headbands. A white one to wear into the waters, and another, white and pink, to wear with her other dress after the deed was done. ALL by hand so she would know how special she is to me.
The next morning we had a nice breakfast. I got her ready, and then it was my turn. I didn't know what I was walking in to that day so I left no stone upturned. I shaved my legs, pumiced my feet, exfoliated my entire body, and face, and moisturized head to toe. My makeup deliberate, and my hair styled, I felt at peace as I dressed knowing that I am who I am, and that that is enough.
As I walked into the building my older daughter was waiting for us and escorted us to where the meeting would take place. Having new contact lenses on it takes time for my eyes to adjust to light and distances, I only saw a blurry figure of a woman standing by the door and she says, as I near, "Hello Lapin." Like, dun, dun, duuuuuuuun. I said her name questioningly. "Yes." She confirms. I stretch out my hand to her, big smile, "It's so nice to meet you. How are you?"
As my eyes focus, I see she is indeed short but does not possess the young, model type figure I'd envisioned. She has only a touch of makeup on her hooded eyes, and dry skin leaving her thin lips bare. Her hair is thin, dark, and straight. Cut at nape with long layers, parted to the side, and ratted at crown. She's wearing a long straight knit skirt to her ankles with a jumper over a short-sleeved shirt, and flat shoes. She doesn't look 15 years younger, maybe 8-10 at most. Looks like a sister-wife. Her expression is that of a deer in headlights. Initially my heart goes out to her. She seems to have as much anxiety as I do about this event. But I soon realize she is a master at playing the victim.
I put my daughters things in the womans dressing area by the baptismal font, and as I return, see Ex in the doorway with his next victim. Upon making eye contact with me, he squeezes her shoulder, moves his hand to her neck, kisses her temple, and turns away from me, smiling. I feel it important to note here that Ex is not one for PDA's. In fact, on our wedding day the photographer wanted to take a picture of us kissing and Ex thought that was inappropriate.
I walk into the room and it has a lot of people in it that look similar to Victim. I suspect, as I take a seat, that she's brought her entire family. Throughout the baptism I am smiling at my daughter, Ex, Victim, her son, and her family. I would have smiled at Hades if he were there but alas, it was only his spawn, the ex.
In observing Victim and Hades... I mean Ex, I notice he's playing the role of protector/lover and she is fabulous at looking timid/helpless with her eyes huge with fear at the prospects of what I might do or say to her. Her family there in numbers, ready to rush to her side at any given moment as they whisper among themselves, and secretly hope for drama. Mind you, I have no family in attendance except for my children. I stand alone with the exception of a new friend I made who generously came to support me. There was so much more about this event than a simple baptism. It seems to me, a silent battle of sorts. The face-off to size each other up before the war begins.
At the end of the baptism, Victim is sitting behind me, and her mother is standing next to her. I turn and ask if this is her family. She says yes and introduces me to her mother, father, twin sister, and other siblings, all their spouses and children, and points out the grandparents. When the mother introduces me to the grandparents she starts with, "Mom, Dad, this is Lapin, Ex's ex..." and stops abruptly, not wanting to say, "ex-wife." I laugh and put out my hand to the grandfather assuring her, "Isn't this awkward. Don't you worry about it." and to the grandparents, "Hello, I'm Lapin, the ex-wife. You have a beautiful family." 
I believe there were 15-20 people from her family that were there. Good thing voyeurism isn't illegal or they'd all be in jail. They weren't there to support my daughter, it was morbid curiosity. I felt their eyes on my back as well as saw their judgments in their eyes the entire time. 
The future victim-in-law asked if she could take a picture of my daughter and I. I consent and she explains further saying, "Oh and I'm going to get one with Victim and your daughter, and then Ex with your daughter." I pose for the picture, and then later as I'm talking with Victim and her twin, I notice the mother is still taking pictures, one person at a time with my daughter. I suggest to Victim that it would be nice for us to take a group picture. "After all, it would be so much better for the children if they see us together and relaxed. Don't you think?" I ask smiling at them as I nod my headup and down. Something I learned in sales training. "Well, a lot of people have left already." She informs me. I tell her it's their loss and so the remaining voyeurs gather with me and my daughter, and we take a group shot with my trusty iPhone.
I soon leave with my one friend in attendance and we go to lunch. As we wait for our table I notice that I'm shaking, and apologize. She smiles at me and says something along the lines of, "Honey, with that performance back there, your nerves had to let loose at some point. You were amazing! I didn't know a person could act with such grace and dignity under such stressful conditions. You radiated when you walked into the room and no one could not notice you. You are stunning, and I'm not just saying that." I must confess, I needed to hear her say that and was relieved when she repeated it again later.
In looking back at all that happened, I feel stronger, more sure of who I am, and more determined to be better. The Ex and his fiance are in the honeymoon phase of their journey together. She manipulates, and controls her family, and him, with her "poor me, my ex-husband cheated on me and I am a fragile little troll who needs to be protected," act. She knows exactly what she's doing and it serves his purposes well. Little does she know, however, that infidelity will look pretty benign once he lets loose his true self. You can only hold your breath so long before you have to let it out so as to take another.
Later that night I'm alone with my thoughts, and feelings. My girls are with their father, my boys are out with their friends, and sadness sets in. Not because I'm in love with Ex, or want him back. But I now realize I began the process of mourning my dream. What would never be. Could never be. Not with anyone. 
And so begins the letting go, the tears, the loss, the healing.
The following week when I met with a friend she asked me about it and I said, "I was 90% perfect." I tell her everything and she asks, "So why only 90% perfect? You did great. What aren't you telling me?" I bite my lips smiling before I confess, "My line about taking a group picture for the sake of the kids...it was true but the main reason was, I was trying to figure out the whole time how I could get a picture of her so I could show it to everyone." We busted out laughing.