Monday, March 8, 2010

God. I haven’t written in so long. Usually that would be a sign that nothing is happening, and therefore I have nothing to write about, but lately, it has been the exact opposite. There is so much going on that I am having trouble keeping up, let alone finding the time sit down and chronicle each event.

But yesterday, I came across some old journal entries, written when Bf and I were just starting out together, when I had all the time in the world to analyze and obsess over everything he did, and I realized how much I have missed my writing. I also need to keep track of all the wacked out crazy shit that Baby Momma has been doing, so we have something of a timeline when it is time to go to court.

And so, let us begin.

Bf and I had Baby last Wednesday, March 3rd. Even though I was exhausted from working late at the club the night before, I had missed Baby over the past few days, so I got up early in the morning to hang out with her and Bf before I had to go to work. After Baby was changed and dressed, we took her downstairs to start out morning rituals.

The three of us were in the kitchen, preparing our individual breakfasts together - eggs and bacon for Bf and Baby, and oatmeal for myself and Baby. But all too soon, our happy reverie was shattered by the sound of Bf’s ringing mobile, which is a sound I have grown to truly hate over the past few months. Bf picked up the phone and walked wordlessly out of the kitchen, and I rolled my eyes and took over his cooking duties with Baby.

Bf had only gone as far as the living room to talk, so Baby and I started whispering to each other in the kitchen. I didn’t tell her why we were whispering, and thankfully, she didn’t ask. She just followed suite when I answered her next question in a whisper, and she continued her usual task of asking after each new thing I do, even though we have done them all before. I think she likes the fact that I don’t lose patience with her over this - I just keep provided the same answers I did the day before and the day before that, and when it inevitably starts to get tiresome, I simply ask her if she’d like to be my helper, and give her a small task to do.

Anyway, a few minutes later, Bf walked silently back into the kitchen, looking glum. He picked up the spatula and went back to working on his breakfast without a word.

"So, how did that go?" I prompted.

"Not so good," he sighed. "She's quit work again."

I snorted. So what? She quits every other fucking week.

"And she's decided that Baby is going to start staying with her when I am work, when it's my week," he said miserably.

I froze. "What?" I spluttered. "WHAT?"

"Because she's not working anymore, she thinks that Baby should be staying with her instead of a baby-sitter when it's my week," he repeated softly.

"But she's not with a baby-sitter," I said lamely. "She's with me."

"I know, baby," he said, taking my hand. "But what could I say? She's got a point, and there's no real reason for me to say no."

And with that, I started to cry. At that moment, I couldn't really see the reality of what was happening, what Baby Momma might really be up to. All I knew was that I was losing my time with Baby, that I would no longer get to take care of her every other week, that I would only get to see her to put her to bed at night, every other week.

"No," I started to sob into Bf's chest. "No, please! Please, don't do this." I couldn't believe how much it HURT - she isn't my baby, but at that moment it sure felt like she was, and that she was being taking away from me. Which, of course, she was - but there wasn't a single fucking thing I could do about it.

Bf tried his best to comfort me, but I just stood at the kitchen sink and cried. Baby came over with a concerned look on her face, and patted my back with her tiny little hand.

"Kg sad?" she asked. Which of course, only made me cry harder. I tried to smile down at Baby through my tears, but I couldn't stop the tears or stop the sadness from pouring out of me.

After trying lamely to comfort Baby, I told Bf that I was going outside for a smoke, and walked outside. I sat down on the front step and lit my smoke, and tried to figure out what I was going to do.

Sitting outside on the cold front step, smoking and pondering my options, it slowly dawned on me that all was not as it appeared. Something was up. We were too close to our court date for Baby Momma to make such a drastic move as quitting her job. Besides, what was she going to do for money?

The truth hit me like a ton of bricks, and when I found out the next day that she had applied successfully for welfare, I knew that I was right. She was making a play for the baby! By tricking Bf into letting her take Baby during the day while he was at work, and quitting her job and going on welfare, she would then be able to march into court and proclaim full custody without any help from the father, which had forced her to turn to welfare. After all, she couldn't work - she had Baby 95% of the time! But even though her Baby Daddy MADE her take care of Baby while he was at work during his week of custody, he refused to give her a single cent to live off of. What a horrible, cruel, selfish bastard!

What a fucking psycho she is, more like. I ran back into the house to tell Bf what I thought was happening - that she was trying to trick him into giving her full custody of Baby. Bf would still go to Baby Momma's house every night to pick up Baby and bring her home, where he would have ONE HOUR with her before she had to go to bed, but then he would have to take her back to Baby Momma in the morning. Baby Momma would effectively have full custody by the time we went to court. The slimy, lying, cheating whore.

Bf seemed a little thunderstruck at first, until I put a call in to Girl Counselor and asked her what she thought. She agreed that she thought Baby Momma was making a play for the Baby, and that under no circumstances should we allow baby Momma to have Baby during Bf's week. I was so relieved to have her endorsement on my theory, as I am sure that Bf prolly thinks I am a little bit overly paranoid.

The stink that Baby Momma has created and maintained throughout the rest of the week has confirmed that our suspicions were pretty much spot on. When Bf told her that actually, she would not be taking Baby while Bf was a work and that Baby would be sticking with our original parenting and baby-sitting schedule for our week, her response was pretty simple: "I don't fucking think so." She raised hell and tried to wear Bf down, which just seemed to confirm that she had her entire court scheme based on this very scam, as she knew that she certainly could not compete fairly, and would have to lie and cheat. That is the truly ironic thing, that I wish she could fucking SEE - NONE of this would be happening if it wasn't for her! She boo hoos and plays up her victim role to the fucking hilt, but everything we are going through has been brought on by her reckless, thoughtless stupidity. All these months of acting however she fucking wants, regardless of who she hurts and the consequences may be, have come back to explode in her face. And now, the only way she even has a chance at winning this custody battle is to start lying. That disgusts me most of all - that all our hard work and determination to be fair with her and to play by the rules will have been for fucking nothing, as she lies and is willing to say absolutely ANYTHING, as long as she wins. While I am glad that we took the high road and set a positive example for Baby, if we end up losing custody of her because her psycho mother is willing to sink to any level to win, it will all have been such a fucking waste.

God, but I am exhausted. I'm falling asleep writing this, so I think I'm gonna feed little Moo, then hit to sack with Bf.

And if you've been thinking "God, I wish her writing would cheer up again already", you're not the only one.

Thanks to the people who wrote in, asking me to continue when I was started to drop off from posting for a bit. Sorry for the little break - I'll try to get back to writing every day ;)

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