Remember the shirt? The one at the wrestling tournament that said, "Hold my headgear while I kiss your girlfriend?" The one I object to on principle but find particularly inappropriate to be selling to a crowd of second graders like Havoc? That's the shirt Havoc came home in this morning. It was Mr. Tapioca Head's weekend and he took Havoc to Saturday's wrestling meet. Apparently he didn't see anything objectionable about that shirt. In fact, he had it personalized by getting Havoc's weight class printed on the sleeve. It might as well say, "Under 65 pounds and already being indoctrinated with macho bullshit!" Along with that stellar wardrobe addition, all three boys came home wearing "dog tags" stamped with their name and my ex's address and phone number.
I could be snarky and say that it's probably a good idea as the boys have given up memorizing Mr. Tapioca's info since it changes so often. Except that I'm trying not to be snarky. I'm also trying to pretend it doesn't bug to me when he does weird stuff like this. My mother says (incredibly unhelpful) things like, "Don't let him get to you. You give him too much of your energy when you let him get to you." Ok, fine. Pretend, pretend, pretend. NOT WORKING! I hate the empty gestures he makes - the one upsmanship and the strange ways he has of trying to co-opt me into agreeing with his unhealthy parenting philosophies. He has a way of calling me to tell me things I already know about the boys - things any parent not smoking crack would know about their children. He thinks I don't know some of the things he's saying? He wants to "prove" to me that he knows them too? What? I don't understand. It's like he forgets who he is talking to sometimes. For instance, right after court he suggested we go BACK to mediation to work out the things that were in the parenting plans that didn't get heard (because my lawyer is an asshat.) He said, "This time I'll keep an open mind and make an honest effort. It's for the boys' sake." Excuse me? That's what you were supposed to do last time, nimrod.
Even when we agree on things he makes me nuts. I agreed three separate times to his request that we each have the children on our birthdays. It wasn't in our original agreement and I feel perfectly comfortable celebrating with the kids on a day other than my actual birthday but he seems to feel strongly about it, so fine. I have never objected to this change. Not once. I agreed to this in mediation in June (although I didn't get to have the kids for my July birthday because he had already made plans to take them out of town during that time); I agreed to this in October (when I submitted my proposed parenting plan - it was written to include his request); I agreed to it a-freakin-gain talking to him after court in January. His birthday in February fell on the Sunday in "my" weekend. I assumed (incorrectly as it turns out) that he would want to come get the boys on Saturday night and have them on his birthday as we agreed. But no. He made plans to go out of town. He told me that since he didn't have it in writing he hadn't wanted count on it. Riiiight. Then he said, "I don't want anyone to think I don't want to spend time with my children. I think about being a dad 24/7 and 365 days a year. Not an hour goes by when I don't think of my children." Somebody please get that man a gold star for parenting.
There you have it, my children came home slimed with Tapioca this morning and there's just not a darn thing I can do about it but whine on the internet.