Happy Easter

Easter Sunday and I have just returned from running along the river and then to my local Starbucks. There I read in the Homes section of The Citizen how my new place stacks up against the 10 worst design ideas ever. The house had 4 on the list of 10 - 1. a pink bathroom, 2. wood panelling, 3. orange vinyl patterned floors, and 4. popcorn ceilings (which I tried to repair myself = mistake). Oh well, I like its retro feel.

When my dad came down for a visit he commented, "This house is the same vintage as our old house in Noranda."

Hmm . . . that makes me wonder. I'm quite nostalgic about all things related to my now distant childhood. Am I trying to recreate a more idyllic time in my life for my daughter? Certainly, the house was part of trying to give her more stability. It didn't factor in to the recent report, our new home, and I think that was a mistake, because I was being judged against my horrid-ex and his new "partner" and their sizable home/income. My shared room with my daughter in my relatively nice one-bedroom in Centretown couldn't quite measure up to what they projected they'd provide, materially. What they'll do psychologically is my greatest concern.

Do I agree to let her spend equal time with her father when he is actively emotionally abusive? How can I fight his claim that he (and she) is entitled to equal time with him?

I met a woman fairly recently who was forced to spend equal time with a father who was emotionally remote and abusive. She lived with that until she could decide otherwise, as a teenager, and she continues to resent her father and mourn her loss of time with her now-deceased mother. Is my daughter being set up for this?

Most of my friends are suggesting my bond with my daughter is strong enough to withstand any assault from my ex, but I'm not sure what my ex's continued pressure will do to her. Already, she protests his assertions that she has two mothers; she worries over that phrase constantly, whining in distress about its implications. She also tells me that she doesn't love her father and doesn't want to spend more time with him. But she's only three and it is hard to tell if she knows what any of this means. Perhaps she's just doing what he used to do, saying what she thinks I want to hear, but I'm not promoting this.

I must mull this over today, Easter Sunday, and I'm trying to be attentive to the message that the day brings . . . to turn the other cheek, to have faith, to trust that good and God will redeem the sorry state of our world.