Saturday, November 17, 2007

Mama Bear Will Squash You Flat

Forget the woman scorned...hell hath no fury like a mother protecting her child.

I brought DC over to DH's this morning for his two hour visit. In addition to falling asleep while watching her, his other favorite father-daughter activity seems to be taking her over to the neighbor's to look at dents and scratches on the neighbor's car and engage in friendly automotive man-talk...

While said neighbor is dangling a cigarette 14 inches from my baby's face.

So, in an attempt to remove DC from the situation in as expedient of a fashion as possible, I began bellowing at the top of my protective mommy lungs, "GET MY BABY AWAY FROM THAT CIGARETTE SMOKE - NOW!"

Not having received a suitable response, specifically, noting that I was being ignored, I persisted in my dramatic admonitions that "YOU DON'T PUT A CIGARETTE NEAR A BABY'S FACE!"

Ah...I finally got a response. DH began to casually mosey back on home, with cigaretted neighbor right by his (and DC's) side.

After one more round of protective raging, and a shout of "Good for you!" from a passing pedestrian, I darted inside to retrieve my diaper bag and strode out the door with a battle cry of my intent to reclaim my child.

In passing, I did ask DH's neighbor what kind of human being he suspected he was, smoking near a baby.

DH, of course, said DC was just fine and it was no big deal.

While being humiliated in front of his neighbors by a raving lunatic wife will not likely make him into a decent parent, at least he was humiliated.

Friday, November 16, 2007

And The Award Goes To...

It really is hard to tell at this point in time who is sensible of the two - DH or his attorney.

In light of the recent subpoenas I have received, I am left no room but to speculate that someone must be up to no good.

Who is in charge here, exactly? Is it DH, directing his attorney's bizarre behavior like a schizophrenic puppeteer?

Or is DH's attorney pulling a fast one on him, having somehow discerned that DH might be a the intellectual astuteness department (in addition to having vast quantities of cash lying around that would convert very nicely to attorney's fees.)?

SOMEBODY in this whole business is obviously forgetting to THINK.

Subpoenaed item #1 out of 52 different items was...


Hmmm...Well, at least that shouldn't be too difficult. I mean, I'll just go to my file marked "Tax Returns" and make a photocopy.

Oh, wait.

I was married for the past three years. I filed jointly with DH. He has all of the tax returns in HIS file at HIS home.

I don't have any copies at all.

Oh dear.

I would hate to be found in contempt of court for not complying with DH's attorney's subpoena.

So I called DH.

Me: DH, I will need to get a copy of the tax returns from you. *snicker* *snicker**cough* *cough*..,Oh my goodness, I seem to be choking on a cracker *snicker* *cough*

DH: Why do you need that?

Me: Because you have subpoenaed them from me. So, I will need to get a copy from you so I can go to Kinkos and pay to make another copy for my attorney. Then, I will give my attorney his copy and pay him to make another copy for your attorney. Then I will have to pay my attorney to send that copy to your attorney and I'll also have to pay for him to type a cover letter. Then, you will have to pay your attorney to make a copy for you. Then, you will have to pay your attorney to mail that copy to you. Most likely, he will be including a cover letter, as well. You'll have to pay for that, too. Then you will have a copy of the tax returns that you have subpoenaed. *snicker* *cough* *cough* So sorry, very tricky cracker I've got stuck in my throat there.

DH: Oh, okay. Well, you can come over on Saturday and take the tax returns to make a copy.

Me: Okay. Then you will have the original tax returns and the copies I paid my attorney to make, so I could pay him to send them to your attorney, so you could pay your attorney to send them to you. You'll have both then. Does that sound good? *snicker* *snort* *cough*

DH: Yeah, that's fine.

Me: seems like it will be a bit costly to get you copies of the documents you already have. Does your attorney communicate with you much before making decisions, or does he just spend your money all crazy-like? *snicker* *cough*

DH: I don't know what game you are trying to play. *click*

Is he serious? ME, playing games? As far as I can see, I have been no more than a spectator to his...what would you even call his behavior? Really, I am becoming more and more convinced that he was abducted by aliens and received brain cell transfusions from extraterrestrial fungi.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Out From Under My Rock

Oh my! Has it been that long? I have to admit, under a rock has not been one of my most favorite vacation locales. Someplace with bright sun and a cool breeze would have been preferable.

As of late, DH has been most agreeable to creating a long, dramatic, made-for-television type of divorce - he finds it soothing to his ego. I imagine he spends most of his evenings lounging on his sofa with a dainty handkerchief draped across his forehead, bemoaning his sad victimhood at the hands of a cruel and demented wife.

Meanwhile, his attorney has been most busy making a fool of his client in exchange for vast quantities of money. This has elevated our divorce to a place of great amusement to my attorney, despite his normally stoic demeanor. The quality of his correspondence with me has deteriorated from extreme professionalism to comedic sarcasm, intermittently besmudged by the occasional teardrop from hysterical laughter that spatters upon the page.

Let’s see if I can get this right…

Following my disastrous appearance in court, I received the formal recommendation of the mediator. While it was evident that the mediator hated me and was quite possibly in allegiance with DH, the recommendation was no different than that of the first mediator (three hours per week under my supervision).

As thrilling as this news was, it did not sit so well with DH, since his child support payment is based on the amount of time DC spends with me.

And so the wheels began to spin once more in his cleaver little brain.

If he could force me to stop breastfeeding, DC wouldn’t have a need to be with me so much. With his great plan in mind, he joyfully paid his attorney another large sum of money to draft a stipulation that would force me to wean her. To gather evidence, DH called my pediatrician…once…twice…thrice…how many phone calls does it take to annoy a doctor? Somewhere in between six and nine, I would say.

Fortunately for DC, her pediatrician did not take kindly to a previously uninvolved parent calling to request her medical files be sent to an attorney, along with a letter recommending she no longer be breastfed.

Way to charm the doc, DH.

At her 9 month appointment, I found the doctor to be as impressed with DH as I am.

Then, on DH’s birthday, which I TOTALLY forgot to acknowledge, I had to call the police on him. He thought it would be elevating to his spirit to refuse to hand DC over to me at the end of his visitation with her. His prideful smirk was priceless as he used my sweet baby as a pawn to try to control me.

Happy Birthday, DH. I hope you enjoyed your chat with the police.

In a final attempt to “win”, DH’s attorney has subpoenaed all records of my membership to country clubs and beach clubs. You know, because I frolic the day away sipping tea and playing croquet with other single moms who have loads of money and time to spare.

I am also required to produce evidence of any inheritance I have received in the past three years. When my cat died, she did leave me her dishes, collars, and toys.

And half a bag of catnip.

And a cat bed.

And some hair bunnies under the sofa. But I didn’t keep those.

But I do have one of her baby teeth that might be of some value. I’ll have to look into where I might get an appraisal.

Then the worst happened…

I got a letter from my attorney informing me that DH believes me to be a TYCOON.

Yes, an EBAY tycoon.

To prove it, his attorney subpoenaed my SISTER’S eBay records, because that makes sense, doesn’t it?

I am now faced with the sad task of informing my sister that she will have to pay alimony to my DH.

Then, to reward me for being the sole parenting influence in DC’s life, DH decided to report me to Child Protective Services. Yes, because I am a neglectful and abusive mom. I just didn’t know it until DH was gracious enough to bring it to my attention.
My sweet DC likes to think of DC's self as being quite skilled at walking gracefully across hard-tiled floor in slippery socks. I do believe I forgot to reminder her last week that she is not, in fact, skilled at walking in ANY circumstance, let alone one so perilous.
Thus, she fell and conked her poor baby head, leaving a bruise the size of a dime.
When DH came to visit three days later, he demanded to know what had happened to her, obviously suspecting that I had lost my temper and tried to discipline her with a frying pan to the forehead.
He started to take pictures of her head, then left rather abruptly well before his two hours were up.
Two days later, during his midweek hour visit, he got his panties all knotted up over a small bruise on her arm (pencil eraser sized). It’s from her TB test, I said.
Alarmed, he said to DC, “You have bruises all over your body. That doesn’t seem right. All over your body…”
I am a crazed maniac in need of restraint. It is a good thing DH is getting me the help I need. My attorney said I should probably expect the visit from CPS within a week or so.

As for the final custody arrangements, we still have to go to court on November 28th. My attorney is not worried in the least, and I do have a very good attorney, unlike DH. After that, our divorce should be final in January, unless DH gets wind of the billions of dollars of assets I am currently hiding in a sunken pirate ship off the coast of Antarctica. That could possibly cause some legal delays.

In the meantime, DH is beginning to busy himself with his new girlfriend, Beth. I can only imagine she is of exceptionally outstanding character. Especially since she started calling him “babe” and staying for the weekend after knowing him for seven or eight long days.