Confession #20

One week from today will be a year since Ex strangled my son. One year ago today I was illegally evicted from my home by the wife of my deceased brother. One week, one day, one year - one moment is all it takes to derail your life and set you on a completely different course.
My son is fine though he suffers from guilt for what his father did. Guilt that he feels the way he does and feels bad if he isn't nice to his father.
My "sister-in-law" has since tried to contact me to make ammends but you know what Oprah says. "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time." Needless to say, I've not responded.
Me? I've no guilt. Not about them anyway. At this moment I feel nothing but distaste for wasting so much time on a man that doesn't deserve to be the father of my children. Anyone's children. Distaste for who and what he is and allows himself to be. I am not the pillar of humanity but I was obviously the spine of his goodwill, integrity and conscious. I can see his new wife through him, his actions. The crazy way he behaves. He's a coward, a fraud, a leech and she's the viper that is squeezing out of him the benefits of my existane in his life.
Yeah, not much here other than complete numbness towards them. Guess I'm just taking this last year in.
Today I came across a quote by John Porter. He said, "People underestimate their cpaacity for change. There is never a right time to do a difficult thing."
He's right. I can't imagine ever finding a "right time" to derail the train called, "my life."

Confession #19

Mediation took place this last week and I have to say that I was not surprised. I did feel hopeful for about five seconds during the process but that was soon dashed with the reality of who I was dealing with.
The mediator was nice but I grew angry when she tried to sell me on a deal that was basically status quo. She tried to tell me it was more than I would get in court and she may be right. But after much debate I told her, and my attorney, that I would rather lose in a court in front of a judge than to sell my soul to him. That the deal he offered would make me his bitch and that was not going to happen on my watch. That I've tried to be nice with him and Ratface. I've tried and to agree to what they offered would be tantamount to psychological suicide.
So court it is. I probably will lose, given that I live in a community that has the "good ol' boy" mentality. The judicial system here would rather lie with filth and wash each others back with the blood of those they continue to victimize rather than to stand for the justice to which they swore they'd seek for the people and community they serve.
So...sacrificial lamb, I am not. Fed up and tired, I am.
When I lose, I will scrape myself up off the floor with my head held high. I will dare the offenders to look me in the eye. I will spit on the court steps (unless it's illegal and then I'll just think about it but because I'm bad at spitting that's probably what will end up happening anyway), and I will move on knowing that I've done everything that I can to right the wrong. That I've done all I can to fight for myself and that, while this loss is painful and symbolic in so many ways, there are greater fields out there for me to fight on and the battle lost to Ex is insignificant because either way, I win in the end. I am not bound to his tierany, or that of his wives. I will move somewhere far when I'm done with my education and I will forget that they exist (except in the lives of my children, of course).
As I sat in a church meeting today I was going through my little pocket notebook and came across a quote by Antonio Machado.

"Traveler, there is no path,
the path must be forged as you walk.

Traveller, the path is your tracks
And nothing more.
Traveller, there is no path
The path is made by walking.
By walking you make a path
And turning, you look back
At a way you will never tread again
Traveller, there is no road
Only wakes in the sea.”

Confession #18

Do you remember the scene in "Indiana Jones, Temple of Doom" where the little boy accidentally triggers a mechanism and the ceiling in the small room that he and Indiana are in starts to lower? Spears come through the floor and ceiling and Indiana is beginning to slouch and crouch lower as he yells at Willie Scott to pull the lever to stop it? That's how I'm feeling right now except I don't know who to yell at to pull "the lever" to stop this horrific time in my life.
Now, I don't mean to sound dramatic but right now, my life is one drama after another and as mediation and the court date loom nearer, I'm ready to bolt. I want to bolt. But bolting isn't an option when you have children.
To add to this climatic month - it'll be one year on April 29th since Ex strangled my son. One year ago that I became homeless with four children. One year ago that I really began to realize that I knew nothing of the depths that Ex could sink.
Tie into that, finals for college that involves a section of the last three weeks of school called, "the affliction."
My itenerary:

• One month anniversary of Ex strangling my son
• Motherly duties
• College
• Mediation
• Finals
• The Affliction

Holy hell, I think I'm ripe for a heart-attack, stroke and/or a visit to a padded room. I feel better already realizing that maybe, just maybe, I have a reason to be stressed.

Confession #17

My day in court cannot come soon enough. I'm ready to "spit fire" and "damn the torpedos."
More catty emails from Ex and Ratface. How they can call themselves "Christian" is beyond me.
This last week was my babies spring concert at school. I kindly shared the information with Ex and he and Ratface showed! Imagine that.
Afterwards I went into the hallway to lather my daughter with praise and kisses only to be cut off by Ratface as Ex looked on. I wanted to grab her fat round body and kick her to the curb but love of my daughter curbed my desire and I stood by until "she" finished playing "mommy."
It's funny. They don't want to be there for any of the day in, day out requirements of parenting but they'll be there with bells on if it means they get to be in the spotlight and garner some good-time memories.
Now Ex, in his email, accuses me of undermining him and urges me to not punish our daughters.
I'm so tired of being under-estimated and treated like a low-life criminal.
I will never have my ending like the movies. The judge will not wave his gavel at Ex and shame him, ordering him to make restituion in full, plus 20 percent and give me all I asked for. He won't order Ratface to wear a sign for a month of every year that says, "BEWARE! I'm an abusive, jealous Bitch dressed in church clothing, and I'm a menace to society." And my children will not run up to me knowing all I've sacrificed for them.
My children will never know the pain I suffer keeping my mouth shut to protect them and the strength and courage it takes to say nice things about their father.
No, I won't have it. Honestly, I'm not sure what I'll have. The day of "mediation" looms near and court will follow, I'm sure.
What I do have seems insignificant but who can place a price on integrity, self-respect and virtue? Those are my traits, my gifts, my tools. They help me go another day hoping one day...One day maybe my children will realize in some part all I've endured for them.
Until then...Easter is coming. I believe resurrection is in the air. Maybe even mine.

Confession #16

I'm depressed.
I don't want to do anything.
It feels like things just keep getting worse for me.
I keep holding out for justice, karma, even the tides to turn and... nothing.
It just keeps getting worse.
At school I'm experiencing moderate success.
Moderate.
At home...
At home I'm experiencing defeat.
Or at least it feels like defeat.
I'm afraid and tired.
Tired.
Afraid that the seeds of my labor are not taking root.
Tired because I stand alone.
Sometimes I think, "Disappear."
Other times I just want to kill myself.
I think, "Then maybe,
then maybe Ex will be sorry for how horrid he is to me.
Maybe then he'll feel guilt."
But he wouldn't.
He would chalk my suicide up to leaving the church and being a heathen.
Of course she'd kill herself. 
He'd say to himself.
She no longer had the "gospel" in her life.
Gospel...
Ha!
More like brainwashing and foolery.
I asked a professor how I could do better.
He told me that I seem to always ask for permission.
That I need to be more confident in my work.
Confident.
How am I suppose to be confident?
And how do I explain myself without sounding like a whiney baby?
A pathetic, self-pitying woman?
I don't.
I can't.
So...
I keep moving forward.
Put one foot in front of the other.
Depressed I may be,
but even depression can't define me.
I'm more than this moment in time.
I'm more than anything Ex could tell himself about me.
I'm more than the need to have society tell me they're sorry.
I am more than even I believe.
And I know this for sure.
I know this because every time I push past the pain,
that I step outside of my comfort-zone,
that I dare to reach for more and reject old dialogue,
I see the reflection of a woman I've not seen before.
I feel courage that didn't exist before.
I no longer have to endure the pain that plagued me before
because it no longer confounds me.
So I continue to wander the Sahara of my today.
Put one foot in front of the other,
praying that the oasis ahead
is not a mirage.
And that soon I'll be drinking
cool, crisp water
from a jeweled goblet
amongst those who took this journey
and won.
Those who earned the title,
"Captain of my ship, Master of my soul."
Those who cheer me from beyond my sight
and that I will someday call, "friend."
Until that time...
I will not quit.

Confession #15

"Uncle!" I give.
I can't think of a time that my children have personally hurt me more than my two little girls do now. And if not my girls alone, then my boys along with them.
When I took my baby to school this week she asked me when I was going to get a new car. My car isn't even three years old but her father, who leased his car, traded it in for a new one. So DisneyDad gets to have new cars, new carpet, new furniture, new wife, new, new, new...he is also taking them to Disneyland for the second time this coming summer. I've not been able to take them once. I live in an apartment with used furniture that is torn, can't afford a trip to the movies for all of us let alone a vacation to Disneyland.
The big blow; my baby referred to Warthog as "mom" when she was talking to me. You would think my girls to be expert swords-women what with the accuracy of their "strikes." Straight into the heart every time. Ev-ver-ry time.
You know, if Warthog was a decent woman who treated me with respect it wouldn't hurt so much. But she isn't and doesn't. She is an evil and spiteful subhuman form that has charmed my daughters. The same daughters that I suffered greatly to bring into this world and would die for want to be like her.
Then my #3 son, who said he no longer had a father, decided to invite Ex to his surgery this week. Fortunately he asked him to come alone and while I'm glad he is reaching out to his father, I'd rather not deal with him.
Our oldest daughter has had some health problems requiring physical therapy and Ex refused to help pay. I got an email telling me to read paragraph 15, section 3. I wanted to reply with, "Read the contract you signed and had notorized promising to pay for the medical needs of the children," or "You prove, on an increasing basis, that your word, spoken or written, holds as little value to you as it does to everyone else," and then my last response which was deleted with the others was, "Shame on you."
Instead I wrote to my attorney. "I need for this to be over. I've no tongue left to bite and my soul dies a little bit every time I have to deal with him."

Confession #14

"Valour and Cowardice" -Alfred Stevens
1817-1876

Over the weekend I got a call from Ex, (He used my daughters phone as I had blocked his). He proceeded to tell me that "something" told him to look at our daughters phone history and low and behold, he finds a number from across the country. He reports that he's been up all night, finally went for a walk at 6 a.m. for an hour and a half because he was so upset.
He and Warthog researched the phone number and have ID'd the owner of the phone who is a registered sex-offender and the wife is incarcerated. He has spoken to our daughter several times and she's denied it every time. He proceeds to give me a long list of misbehavior on her part and informs me that if she wants to continue coming to his home she can't behave this way. As if her behavior determines the level of father-hood he will commit to.
"What if I were dead?" I ask him.
"Well, you're not." he replies.
"Ex, this is your daughter and she is a teenager. Yes, she's going to push against you and disappoint you but that is when you need to be there for her the most," I plead.
"Well she is not the sweet little girl she was and she has to know she can't behave this way," he insists.
I'm frustrated and can't believe my ears. He has no loyalty to his children if they don't fall in step with his ideology and expectations.
"No Ex, she isn't," I confirm. "But that is when she needs you the most. She needs to know you are her rock. That no matter how she behaves you are there for her. She needs to know that in your eyes, she is and always will be your little girl,"
He goes on, cutting me off and insisting he knows what I'm going to say so I needn't say it.
I get all the information he has found on the number he gave me and end the call.
I get onto the internet and can't find anything. Not the names he's given me, nothing he claimed. I search the state for the registered sex-offender and can't find what he said he found.
I call Ex back and ask him to repeat the number. He gives me a slightly different number. I repeat it back to him. He gives me excuses as to why he made the mistake and I let it go.
Again I research the names, locations and nothing is matching up. On a whim, I ask my boys if they've used their sisters phone and son #2 say's he did when he ran an errand for me earlier in the week because his phone was dead. I tell him the number and he confirms that it's his friends but his last name is not the one Ex gave me.
Long story short, Ex and Ratface researched the wrong number that happened to be that of a female sex-offender who is incarcerated.
I call Ex and he's not answering my ten attempts to contact him. He finally calls me back and I inform him of his error. That our daughter didn't even make the calls and was telling the truth. He was relieved, made excuses for his error and admitted that he had, in his words, "some crow to eat."
Mind you, my Sunday was shot to hell but I rested easy knowing that my daughter was "safe" and that I took the higher road. If the tables were reversed, Ex and Ratface would have raked me through the coals but I took the higher road and didn't add to the drama of the day.
I hate what he said about our daughter and the conditions he placed on whether she'd be able to go to his home. What decent parent does that? Children, no matter how ill behaved, are not disposable.
I will never tell my daughter of his words. I will not be the one to break her heart. I wish, as a mother, I could instill in her how valuable she is but unfortunately a girl needs her father for that. Even if he's a craven knight.

Confession #13

Know thyself.

I'm enrolled in a class, writing persuasively, that I was really looking forward to. That is until it became a tool for my "nemesis."
The semester started out easy enough, I loved what I was learning. The professor wanted us to keep a daily journal and write about what angers us. Easy enough for me, I have Ex and Warthog to write about. Easy enough until three weeks ago. We had turned in our first essay which was based on our journal entries. She then "flipped the coin" and instructed us that we are now to write from the other perspective. In short, I was to argue Ex's side. Thus began the unraveling.
Anxiety, stress, emotion on the cusp of spilling over...I quickly felt the emotional turmoil this assignment was causing. I don't want to be weak, I want to face my dragons and make them impotent. But how many battles do I take on at the same time? I deal daily with Ex, even if only through my children. I am in the process of going to court with Ex. I've no one in my corner, literally, who will pick up my "sword" and let me rest. I've stress 24/7 regarding my children, school and group assignments with partners that want to benefit/coast on my efforts, figuring out how I'll pay my bills, billing departments calling and demanding payment for what Ex is supposed to be paying for, children's doctor appointments, children's other appointments, having to report appointments to Ex, children who'd rather be with their father or brother (father and brother who don't really want them) and no one who wants to be with me. Add to that, family members who don't know what "loyalty" means, a mother who doesn't check on me, sisters who don't connect with me, (is it because I left the church?). I'm a woman in a community that doesn't protect me, without a church that never protected me and I am without a father who would have chuckled before reminding me not to sweat the small stuff and that it's all small stuff. Only, however, after he reminded me that people don't care so take care of yourself.
Add to the fact that I have to write from Ex's perspective that I intuitively don't trust the professor, that I don't feel "safe" in their class, I've decided this weekend to drop it and take a "W."
Now my battle is internal. Have I let myself down? Did I chicken out? Am I a coward?
I tell myself that the answer to all of those questions is, "No." Part of being a strong woman is knowing which battles to fight and how to take care of yourself. This class is not the battle that I'm fighting. It is, however, a potential source of self-mutilation, to which I don't subscribe, and a weapon to benefit Ex. This class was elective and not part of my degree. I'd rather take the three credit setback than to weaken my emotional health to prove I'm strong. Sometimes being strong means walking away. And in the words of an unknown person, "You don't have to attend every argument you're invited to."

Confession #12

My son gave my "baby" his old smart phone a month ago since he'd gotten a new one. He turned off the
internet connectivity but forgot, however, to turn off wifi and disconnect his skydrive. The other night he came to me and reminded me of all of this and then shows me pictures my daughter had taken of Ex and Warthog, without her makeup. The kind of pictures that are so close, the face is the only thing you see.
We laughed our heads off and I fantasized about printing off a hundred and placing them all over her community with some funny caption. Oh how I'd love to do that but...that's not taking me in the direction I want to go so I joke some more with my friend about it and move on, longingly.
I got the response from Ex's attorney yesterday regarding the suit I filed against him. He denied everything including the paragraph that states he has a DCFS case that found him guilty of the charges mentioned. My attorney assures this is normal and frankly I wouldn't expect anything else from him. He's a coward.
So why tell you about this? Because I'm freaking out. My experience in this community that we live in has taught me that women, especially mothers who've devoted their lives to staying at home to raise the children, are not valued and any claims of "protection/respect" are false. Women are not protected. Neither are the children for that matter and the police and protective agencies like DCFS have their hands tied.
So, I've tried to get help from the church, tried to get the district attorney to throw the book at him (he didn't), rejected by small claims court because it's a family court matter, and my last frontier...family court. I have no other recourse after this. I've waited for a year and the process has begun and I almost wished it hadn't because then I could still dream about justice and someone finally standing up and protecting my children and myself. Someone finally making him accountable and force him to do right by his children and the time I spent trying to be kind and generous to him. Being flexible so that our children could at least have divorced parents who could co-parent peacefully.
Honestly, I'm preparing myself to walk away with nothing. The flip side of that coin? If he "wins" in this as well, I don't know what I'll do. Just this process beginning has me so stressed and filled with anxiety it's affecting me in my studies, as a mother and I find myself silently seeking peoples eyes for reassurance. Trying to buoy myself with telepathic questions and searching for the answers in their eyes and finding none.
I miss my father. No one except for my therapist will ever know how horrifyingly exquisite the pain has been for me over the last year and I will never be able to describe it in words. Even these posts lack the ability to accurately share/describe the intensity of this past year.
One by one, on their own, these events, most of them, are no big deal. But pile them, one on top of the other, without rest, without sustenance, and they quickly become unbearable. Add to that trying to protect my children by not complaining about their father or his new wife. My crown of thorns and cross to bear, if you will. And to do it...I find I can relate to Christ, if he truly exists. I know the desire to bear the burdens of others and suffer their arrows in order to protect them. I don't claim to be perfect but I do claim to know the love that a mother has for her children and the willingness, even desire, to throw herself in front of a bullet, a train, arrows, and torture if it means protecting them. Even torture at their unknowing hands. Unfortunately my mother didn't have that for me. But being a child who wasn't protected and knowing how much that affected me, makes me even more committed to protect mine.
Why? Because it has to stop somewhere with someone. If we all act according to what was/wasn't provided for us we'll never make anything better. But if we can do that which we know would have made a difference in our lives, forgetting ourselves, then we can make a change for the better. And maybe in giving to someone what wasn't provided for us...maybe that can be a salve that will move our own healing along.
So...how will I survive this time? How will I not fall apart? One breath at a time. One moment at a time. With love and forgiveness for myself, and knowing that even if I don't win... I'm not down for the count. The judgement of a court will not define who I am or what I do next. It will only make me stronger and more resolved to try and make the way easier for the next person in line.

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.