Can't I walk thru the yard without stepping on Donkey dung?

He didn’t even have them yet, and he wanted me to give up my time with them.

Donkey first wanted to know, how easy are you going to make this on me? Flying would put little effort on his part. I could fly into the airport nearest him, cutting his effort to minimal. His costs too.

The parenting plan sets out guidelines for transportation costs: “The mother shall pay 50% and the father shall pay 50% of the transportation costs. Other: If parties agree to air transport, party electing to fly shall pay for his/her & children’s airfare.”

When it was clear he was going to have to put in some effort, the story changed.

I wasn’t going to back out of seeing my kids, and I was (am) still recovering from over a thousand dollars in flight fees to be present for the divorce hearing, as well as impulsive purchases prior to losing custody, like the suite at the baseball game (totally worth it, tho!).

The financial burden was equal (sigh), even tho it was greater on my part. I started 21 months prior with $800, saved and depleted.

But it was my fault. I was denying his reasonable request because my request to be with my kids 2 weeks after giving them to a monster was unreasonable.

Asking him to understand is an exercise shouting to a brink wall. It doesn’t help that I don’t know how to communicate with him. I have the paperwork to fall back on, but since my requests for changes were denied, it is entirely his (lawyer’s and the judge’s) composition.

Donkey is right in that “we just need to work through this stuff,” but I won’t need to work thru this stuff at the expense of my hard-earned independence.

I don’t know how this can be anything but his attempt to deny us time together, masked as my voluntary pass on the visit. Do me a favor turns into she didn’t want the weekend….

I was grateful Donkey didn’t ask any more about our plans. I picked Is & No up in Chattanooga, and we drove and stayed with friends. We stayed and played until Monday morning when we spent the morning/early afternoon in the underwater world of the TN Aquarium, getting acquainted with their new neighbors.

And it really would be nice if this was an isolated incident. But we know better, don’t we?

Before the pesky interruption of the forthcoming Memorial visit, Donkey extended an olive branch for additional time in the summer. Also known as, sending them back relatively soon after full-time father responsibility kicked in 9 June.

The need for their stability kicked in, and I know I would fight tooth and nail to keep them enrolled until completion. There’s just a value to finishing what has been started.

Granted, this is giving up time with the IN Crowd, and more time would be a wonderful way to spend the summer. The 23rd and the 30th is the difference between 6 weeks and 7 weeks at home, or finishing camp at the same time as the friends they are making, and will be with in school this fall. Not an easy decision.

Still isn’t. I’d drive there and back today if it weren’t for that nagging feeling they are benefiting from the time they have at camp; the whole time, not some truncated version meant to make him look good. I waited for an answer, then didn’t.

So the date was settled, and I could put a big red heart on the calendar on 30 June. There was just the matter of what time. Sure, I could leave at 4 AM and plan for lunch and waiting at the Cracker Barrel, but what would be the fun in that?

So I asked, and asked again.

Then pestered and bothered.

I don’t know what else to do. It’s not like I’m going to knock on his door and demand an answer. First, he’d never allow that. Second, I don’t have it out for facial injury.

I don’t know how to discuss. Sure, it’s Friday, but it’s the 6th Friday after school lets out, a week later.

But what am I complaining for? I only had to ask 4 times to get an answer. And when I did, it was definitive.

What was my problem anyway? What’s the big deal about an hour? It’s only the difference between returning home at 8 pm or 9 pm. You know, no big deal after an entire day in the car.

Of course, wanting to talk about it is cause for attack.

Not like I could call the police for emotional abuse, either. It’s a high conflict divorce, we’re supposed to be mean and evil?

So, as I have tended to do, I resorted to verbal abuse. Screaming and cursing because I can’t get my voice to carry from my throat to his ear.

But, it’s unreasonable to expect civility. I was blamed for incivility in the final judgement.

Unreasonable. Again. There’s that damn word again. Unreasonable. Un-fucking-reasonable my ass.

How do you solve a problem like a donkey? How do you stop abuse and pin it down? How do we find a way to make it over? How do we find a way to set us free?

Tags: custody, domestic violence, emotional abuse, intimate partner violence, minority timesharing parent, parenting plan, timesharing, violence against women, visitation