I’m kind of tired. We’re back from the road trip through California that followed the plane trip to Hawaii.
If I were going to really do this justice, I would write four posts:
1)IN WHICH pictures of K. and Jezebel, her arm round his neck, on the beach appear in my Facebook newsroll, and I am forced to reflect that a)she, at least (who posted the pictures and tagged him), appears to have come out with the relationship he repeatedly denied and b)he has ripped off my debonair, romantic trick of drinking champagne on the beach with real flutes instead of plastic and c)it is ironic that he is on the beach in Oregon with his chippie while I am on the beach with HIS ENTIRE EXTENDED FAMILY in Hawaii;
2)IN WHICH one of the pictures posted by Jezebel contains K. holding a new car stereo box, and I wonder if this is where the extra child support money went; on his first visit, today, July 5, I see that he does, indeed, have a fancy new car stereo (but I am out, as of the first, a total of $618 in withheld child support);
3)IN WHICH, on the streets of San Rafael, where we are visiting my delightful and child-loving cousins, Thing One says to me: “My daddy doesn’t love me,” and I reply,
“Your daddy loves you and Verena.”
“My daddy DOESN’T love me!”
“I think he loves you more than he loves anyone.”
“He doesn’t love me. He’s not nice to me.”
“Well, maybe he doesn’t know how to show anyone love. But you are very important to him.”
“He doesn’t love me VERY MUCH.”
4)IN WHICH I decline to give K. back his housekey (he had had it since he moved out, and I had needed it for the housesitter while we were gone, and I’d decided that was probably a good juncture for him to not have a key to the house anymore) and he refused to take the kids to the park or anywhere, ever, because HE NEEDS A KEY FOR CONVENIENCE, and none of my offers (to put the key on and take it off his ring, which he insisted he needed, to hide a key outside for him) were sufficient because he insisted that he had to have HIS OWN key to my house; Thing One was pleading with him to go to the park and I was pleading with him to take the “guest” keyring for the day, but he insisted that if he couldn’t have his own key he would never take them anywhere. This was finally resolved by my offering to escort them to the park, at which point K. told me to go ahead and he would catch up; he showed up nearly 1/2 hour later, and I was so over his company that I then went home and promised to stay here to let them back in.
Yeah. Those are the blog posts I would write. I might add an addendum about how my friend Nadia is totally skulking around her own house, she volunteered to me, because she sees K. hugging Jezebel and leaving her place in the mornings all the time — apparently it’s about two doors down (and confidential to Nadia: why are you telling me this?) and doesn’t want to run into him. I hope Jezebel has enough respect for the children to at least not encourage K. in things like the key tantrum, but I kind of doubt it given what little I know of her.
I really, really wish K. weren’t being so dishonorable, disrespectful, and disheartening as a “co-parent” to me. I really, really wish that the one time he’d called me when we were away, last Tuesday in California, he had thought to ask after the kids or ask to speak to them. But he didn’t. He told me he was upgrading the phone plan, which we still share to save money, because he’d gotten a Blackberry, and that he needed to get the access code. Then we hung up the phone.
The funny thing is, despite the withheld child support and the not calling and the refusal to take the kids to the park because he’d rather have a power struggle with me about how he’s entitled to a key to my house, I think he really believes he’s a loving father. In his own mind. One who takes the best care of his kids he can. And maybe that’s even true.
But even if it is, it seems like it’s probably time for some Facebook unfriending. Sad that this is how we express our dislike, disavowal, or disapproval these days. But really: I don’t need to look at the evidence of the relationship K. has been developing with Jezebel since last September on Facebook. I don’t need to look at it at all. All I need is for K. to be a decent, honorable father. And I guess that’s all I’m not going to get.