Not Good

Well, the meeting didn't yield the results I hoped for. You'd think, really, if there are tables and there are facts that a man couldn't avoid paying child support, but apparently, with a slimy lawyer, they do just that. I got an email from my lawyer with my ex's lawyer's opinion laid out in all its obscurity. No legal opinion from my lawyer accompanied it. I had to wade through the drivel, judge it against the Department of Justice's website, and reply to my lawyer, noting that none of the calculations actually conformed to the law. I thought he was supposed to do that for me?! Throughout this horrid process, I have had to be my own advocate and it has been exhausting. I repeat, this family law process is inherently unfair to those who are forced to deal with ligitigation as a result of a hostile and irrational ex-spouse.

On a happier note, A is celebrating her graduation from her French integration program today. She will undoubtedly benefit from having had this exposure, so it was worth all the back and forth.

This weekend is her first 48 + hour weekend away from me. I'm not looking forward to it, but E has promised to distract me. It is a long letting go. Maybe that's why people get pets, because they don't grow up and move away, they are always there to love and hold, so long as your lover isn't allergic . . . which mine is. So.

My lawn is still yellowing. The good new on this front is that I called Lee Valley Tools and they said I can bring in my broken mower and they'll order me a new part or replace it or something.
I guess old SG did good to get it there. I certainly appreciated it while it lasted and maybe with the help of a gas weed wacker I can get through the rest of the summer.

The winter . . . I can't even bear to think about shovelling. Snow removal will have to be budgeted for, that's the only way I'll survive.

Asunder again

Okay, I just listened to this week's episode on Child Custody and I find myself relating more sympathetically to Rachel Cave. She's a divorced mother and she understands and experiences the pain of a mother's separation from young children. It is an incomparable loss. Nothing touches it.

I especially appreciate that Cave included Susan Boyd's rebuttal of the assumption of 50/50, which I personally think is a disaster for children, but which I myself am not contesting because it seems like a losing battle. My friend HD would say, "How can you not defend your daughter?"
I have come to the conclusion that I can best serve her by allowing her time with her father and the opportunity to know the truth of her situation with all the love and support I can give her to cope with it. It isn't a pretty reality. She watches her father interact with me. She says, "Why doesn't Daddy talk to Mommy?"

I hope that someday my daughter will be able to write a response to the decisions of people like Dr. W and the stolid, white male judges who decided her fate. It shouldn't have to fall to her, though. I should be able to defend her now, but I feel incredibly disempowered in this time of father's rights and these legal assumptions which make it nearly impossible to contest a father's claim to his child.

Done in on all fronts . . .

If it weren't for an exceptionally kind neighbour with a vast knowledge of lawn care, I may well have destroyed my lawn for good. As it is, my lawn in neatly mown, if patchy in colour. No one ever told me to let it grow would mean it would die underneath the verdant waving fronds on top. My edges are trim and clean. Now it is my job to keep up to this and I don't know how I'll do it. I have to purchase implements - a weed wacker, a gas lawnmover. My millionaire ex-boyfriend's gift of a dinky manual mower from Lee Valley didn't cut it. It actually broke as E was trying to help me with my lawn last Friday. I'l have to look into exchanging that thing for something that works. How could I possibly think I could easily handle a 50 by 100 foot lot on my own? I can't.

Anyway, there are larger cats to catch in my life right now . . . the lawyers are meeting today to decide our fate. I met with mine yesterday morning . . . and I can't say I enjoyed it. As much as I try to get through to lawyers, I never seem to succeed. As a whole, (E would squirm about me generalizing, but I have no problem with it), they are linear thinkers who find it impossible to understand emotional colour and principles. They cannot conceive of things in a holistic way. How can anything work if it is drafted by people who can't undertand the notion of multiple interpretations and the slippery evasiveness of sadistic people? For example, in my last agreement, the line that has ensured I will never be paid for medical expenses I was entitled to. This was written by the head negotiator for the Legal Aid Office in Ottawa. It read thus: "The applicant will submit to his insurer, receipts fo rmedical/dental treatments in the amount of $1,230.00 which receipts were provided to him today. He wil limmediately reimburse the Respondent upon receipt of benefits from the insurer." Well, it didn't say he'd give me the money, so he didn't. He made his own claims for that money to the insurer and and nullified mine. This is the kind of perfidy I'm dealing with. You would hope that someone running a legal aid mediation would know better. Apparently not. Anyway, I'm not sure anything my present lawyer drafts is any better. I've been doing a lot of editing. I run things by E and my father, but they aren't lawyers. I can't be expected to know all about this process myself. What I do know is that the legal system does not protect women and children. It protects and promotes men with money. There is something fundamentally wrong with the system, principally because it serves those who designed it.

I will rant more later.

Defeat

My lawn. It did me in. I had no idea.

Recovery thoughts . . .

It has now been 4 months in our new home and . . . it feels like a milestone because we only spent three-and-a-half months in our first house before we had to move out and back into my old bachelor apartment. I was angry and humiliated that I couldn't keep that house. I loved it. I begged my father to help me stay there for a year, but he refused, despite the fact that he was sitting on my mother's assets, which he promised to distribute among us. In the end, I realized that I just couldn't do it and I let it go. The house was in The Glebe and had character and charm. It felt like a dream come true until the nightmare began. However, here I am just more than 3 years later and living in this little house in a much less desirable neighbourhood, with character and charm of an entirely different order, and I am grateful to my core.

I drove by the old house last week with E when we went to the Canal Ritz for dinner. I looked at it and felt some regret ,but not pain. I never thought I could pass it without feeling anguish. I still may be struggling with the aftermath of that loss, but now that there has been at least one move forward I'm hopeful that I can spend the next three years focusing on everything we do have and making even better things happen.

Deal?

Well, we're not going to court next week. Instead, I've agreed to a first-stage access increase and in turn, our lawyers will cancel the case conference and instead meet in person next week to discuss financial issues. I'm relieved, of course. Still, this means A will be with me less of the time. I know I won't like that, but it will give me more time for . . . work, looking for better work, E, and . . . me?

I feel loss. Lost. Lo.

Why does this process have to be so cut-throat? How could I have loved someone who can be so mean? Will he be mean to my beloved daughter once he has more time with her? What is he capable of? Not forgiveness.

What is there to forgive?

I'm not sure I can forgive him for this.

Offers

Okay, so maybe this is it. I got a reply to my Offer to Settle today. It was close, but my ex is attempting to evade his financial obligations, something both my lawyer and I anticipated. The only outstanding issue with access arrangements is about phone calls. In an attempt to ensure that I am continually subjected to the humiliation of my ex's girlfriend being presented as A's mother, my ex wants to have her call Annabelle in his stead, so his lawyer wrote: "You have removed the sentence, 'Each parent may use a designated alernate for overnight phone calls' from the original draft. A will expect a call every night and, if the parent is unavailable [!What, is he too busy to call his own daughter? Where's he going to be?], his or her partner or another family member should be able to setp in so that A is not disappointed. Please re-insert that sentence." As if. This is all about being cruel, nothing more. I have never met two people more intent on causing emotional harm that my ex and his partner. I do believe in karma. I hope Poetic Justice will kick in and give my ex and his shill the kick in the pants they deserve.

What do I do now? I have to review everything and call my lawyer back. I feel like crawling under a rock. I hate this.

Reservations . . .

I have to say, listening to Asunder, what bothers me still is that Rachel Cave sidesteps the whole issue of morality. She does not ask about what led to divorce and I think that is an important question. People don't just divorce for no reason and the history of the relationship really determines the course of the divorce. As a psychologist said to me once, "People act the same way during a divorce as they did during the marriage." Bad behaviour doesn't just emerge because of divorce, the seeds of it must have been there all along . . . they were in my case. While divorce is stressful and heightens tensions, it does not cause immoral behaviour. We have to look at the roots of divorce to solve the issue of divorce.

Family Court

I was intent on listening to all of Asunder this morning, but I forgot about it until it was well after 9:30 am. Still, I got the summary of this Family Court episode. Here it is, and it's imporant,

Family Court is . . .

1. Expensive.
2. Adversarial - it promotes toxic relationships in the form of poisonous affidavits which become part of the public record and can never be withdrawn.
3. Unpredictable - sometimes children are taken away from their parents altogether!
4. Slow - it can take many months or years to process.
5. Ineffective - It doesn't remedy asshole behaviour. There is "no law against being an asshole" so bad behaviour, the type my ex displays, cannot be addressed.

Two Steps Back

My lawyer wrote me on Thursday to say that my ex hadn't responded to my Offer to Settle and that we would have to prepare for court. He wants me to "Prepare in point form your concerns about any changes to custody and access arrangements." I'm sitting here mulling that over. What do I respond to, I wonder, my ex's Case Conference Brief or the volley of Settlement Offers that have been in the air since June? I'm confused and my lawyer doesn't clarify.

Meanwhile, in response for my request that my ex return my daughter's water bottle and supply her with it for her school day (as required by the program) I got this reply: "Futher to your email below, A's school, like every other public school, supplies plenty of water for anyone on premises [sic]. What they don't supply, and arenot responsible for, are individual ice packs for A's lunch box during a mid-summer heat wave. That should have been your responsibility. But you failed. So we supplied an ice pack and told you abotu itin a non-confrotation manner last week." There's more, but it is more of the same drivel . . . what is with this guy?

I can't possible co-parent with him because he's impossible and my sweet girl is caught in the middle. What I can't understand is how our system allows idiots like this complete access to children and through them the means to torment their mothers.

Can I honestly say I want what I proposed in my Settlement Offer? No. I don't want it. I was trying to settle. So do I go back to all of my concerns about sharing my daughter equal time with my ex? I suppose so. That will take a while . . .

E thinks it doesn't make sense to address anything but how far we've come. I want to dig in my heels and give my honest answer. It will be hard, but I have to do it, even if it takes me back to a place I wish I never had to be.

Sweet Summer

E and I ran in this heat and it was hard. We stopped just short of thirty minutes, both of us relieved to have it done. When we got back here, I collapsed into A's pool and just lay there for about 15 minutes, watching the clouds skid across the sky above me. E sat in my worn wicker chair waiting. We went to Subway for supper then E took off for his Beach Body class and I walked to our drop off to pick up A. Our walk home was slow and meandering. She picked me weeds and asked me to keep them forever. When we got home it was her turn in the pool. She climbed her new slide and raced down it into the pool again and again. I sat with a glass of ice water and watched her. Then she decided to start watering our garden and ran back and forth to the pool, drenching the tomatoes, which they problably appreciated. I sat on the front porch and read the paper as the light began to fade. It was a sweet summer evening.

Beautiful and Imperfect

I have resigned myself now to a life that is imperfect. Nonetheless, it is still beautiful. I can appreciate my morning bikeride along the river to A's school, the ants crawling through my kitchen, the daisies sprouting among the weeds at the edges of my lawn, my daughter's gentle hugs goodbye. There is no word from my lawyer, aside from a bill I haven't opened. The deadline for a reply is this Friday, but I'm convinced it will come and go. I may have to go to court. It would be a stupid thing to do, but I have my ex to thank for that.

Meanwhile, E's birthday (and his son's - same day) is on the horizon. I don't know what to get him. He's planning a mini-golf party and is inviting his ex-wife's "gang," as well as A and me and some of his son's friends. It will be interesting if nothing else. I pray for as little excitement as possible.

I'm finally back to work, which is a huge relief after almost 2 weeks without. As a contractor, I have very little recourse. I have to look for more permanent work, but I love the flexibility of my current situation, working my own hours from home. Again, my imperfect life is somehow beautiful, and while I appreciate everything I have . . . there is still more I wish I did have . . .

E says, "You have me," but he says that from a city away.

Several Lingering Questions . . .

1. What kind of coffee do these characters drink?
2. Sandwiches are mentioned, often, but never what kind. What can of sandwiches does Blomkvist eat?
3. Where did Camilla disappear to in Northern Canada? (This is based on the storyline for the 4th book)
4. Why does Salander drink so much in Gibraltar?
5. What's Blomkvist's attraction to Berger?
6. What makes Blomkvist so good in bed?

More coming . . .

Blomkvist's Sex Life

The one problem I have with the novels is Blomkvist's sexual philandering. [Spoiler Alert!!!]
In the last novel, Blomkvist's sister tells Salander, "My brother is completely irresponsible when it comes to relationships. He screws his way through life and doesn't seem to grasp how much it can hurt those women who think of him as more than a casual affair" (519). It seems strange to be that this character claims to respect and trust women, yet he never allows himself to become too deeply involved. I suppose that's his tragic flaw . . . but I have trouble with the last book's assertion that he's in love . . . because I don't think he's capable of intimate love. He's better with friends and benefits. His "relationship" with Monica Figuerola seems completely implausible to me.

I've never been attracted to men who take their attraction for granted. I prefer men in the rough. Blomkvist is entirely too cocky for my taste.

Now, I'm still not sure what to make of E in this regard. He told me once that he wanted women to want him. I was not impressed. At the same time he said, "I'm not attracted to many women." (Thankfully, however, he's not attracted to men, which is a pleasant change from my ex-husband, who told me otherwise.) He also said, more importantly, "I only love you." I hope I don't have to interpret anything more into that.

If someone needs the attention of multiple others, or specifically strangers, to feel desirable, then I think that's a problem. If someone sleeps around with multiple people in order to feel attractive and validated, that's even more of a problem. I wouldn't tolerate being one of many, or even one of a few, partners. Apparently some people don't mind, but I find that implausible as well. It is already hard enough on me to be with someone with an ex-wife, because of the kids, she will always be in his life, poking around, feeling some sense of entitlement (many would add, rightly so).

I think intimacy requires commitment. If people can't handle intimacy, then I think they are not fully functional. They may be interesting, they may be fun, but they aren't entirely healthy. I guess a fictional character doesn't need to be, but a partner does. Unfortunately, finding someone who is capable of true partnership is a challenge.

I think I'm capable now . . . was I able to be truly intimate with my ex-husband? No. I couldn't be because I couldn't trust him. We pretended at love and intimacy, but I think we both knew it was an act and that is why it didn't last long. His family knew it wouldn't . . . I gathered that from his mother's sidelong looks and the comments some others made about A "coming from a good place." It was weird to be part of that and I'm glad I don't have to be exposed to their judgements now, at least not in my hearing.

Sex is always tricky though because for so many people intimacy is not required. The sexual act is more recreational than emotional for them. The problems arise when people approaching sex differently collide . . . Salander's experience with Blomkvist is a perfect example of this . . .

Kicking the Hornet's Nest

I may as well have been doing that . . . with this past week of suffocating heat . . . no work . . . and legal negotiations . . .

I finished the Larsson series today. It was a good distraction and underlined elements of my own experience of systemic gender bias in the legal system. I can certainly feel empathy for Lisbeth Salander. The characters are so credible and captivating that I didn't want the story to end. Like all of Larsson's fans, I want more . . . and wish there was more to read . . . the complete series of 10 books would have been groundbreaking. E bought The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest for me on Saturday.

"Do you want it?" he asked me, when we saw it in the bookstore. "I"ll buy it for you."

We'd just finished a day out with the kids and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed with a book. After I handed A off to her father, that's exactly what I did. I pleaded sunstroke and stayed in instead of driving out to E's for the night. He understood. I've been reading ever since.

Bothered

This heat only exasperates the tension I'm feeling in relation to this settlement. Everything is sticky. My lawyer submitted something to me yesterday that was completely out of line with discussions we've had and full of errors. I'm not sure what to make of him. Does he have ADD? It is so frustrating to have a so-called professional not living up to the billing. Meanwhile, I still have to deal with the awful ex who consistently tries to provoke me with his bad behaviour and catty emails. The lawyer hasn't helped in any way in that regard. What's the point of having one? If you don't, you're pumelled. If you do, you're ripped off.

As an escape, I just read The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo. E and I decided to read the trilogy together this summer after we read a fabulous review in the Globe this past weekend. I started reading on Sunday and finished this morning and it was as unputdownable as was said. Violent, though, which is not usually something I like. I didn't like that part of the book, but I liked the characters (especially the girl) and the pacing and the plot was interesting and the Sweedish setting was appealing. So, I'll probably hand off this first book to E tonight and start the next one. I'm interested to see what he thinks of it. He loves crime fiction. Often mild-mannered types do. I think that's because it is a release for their shadow side; they get to indulge in what they'd never consciously express . . . murderous feelings, hatred, revenge . . . I think that's it, but I'm not sure.

For my part, the violence is too much. I don't consider it entertaining. I like the psychological complexities of the characters, but I don't want to believe that people can be so dehumanized. I don't know why I feel that way, when, for example, I see everyday how inhumane my ex is and how completely detached my lawyer is and how the family law system promotes conflict and harms children. I guess crime ficiton feels too real to me and threatens to undermine my idealism and belief in individuals' abilities to be good, rational, and progressive. I suppose the hero/ione is meant to embody those qualities, but to have them so often up against opposing forces so wretched makes me despair, even if they don't.

Muddle

I'm still in the middle of negotiations. They drag at a painfully slow pace. Today, I was sent a copy of an amended order I drafted weeks ago . . . and it is still wrong . . . and it should go out immediately.

Last week was the beginning of A's integration program at her new French school. She had no idea of what was coming, but it felt like a huge transition to me. It was a new stage in our lives, with her moving towards independence. I wasn't the only parent anxiously pacing outside the school doors at the end of the day. At least A was fine with the transition. She didn't cry, she didn't resist, she just wanted me to stay with her a while, which I did, and she was fine when I left. The great thing about A, according to E, is her adaptability.

On Tuesday, however, I had an unfortunate encounter with my awful-ex's new companion, who showed up at the school to pick A up, mistaking the dates of a pre-arranged plan to accomodate A's daycare closure at the end of July. This woman, Z, is entirely hostile towards me, most certainly because of what my ex has said about me, but still, any rational person would maintain a degree of objectivity about an ex-partner. What she did Tuesday was further evidence of her lack of judgement. Seeing me exiting the school with A, she said, "What are you doing here? I was supposed to pick her up."

I was taken aback and first thought that she misunderstood the reminder email I sent to my ex about his drop-off the next day. I stumbled, "No, tomorrow you drop her off and pick her up, if you'd like, but I didn't get an email."

"No. You sent an email weeks ago. I just checked it. We're supposed to pick her up Tuesday and drop her off on Wednesday."

It took me a minute to understand what she was referring to, meanwhile, parents and kids were streaming around us, A was trying to get a peek at her brother in the infant carrier and I was frozen to the spot, thinking I'd made some mistake. Z was furious and her tone was acid.

Finally, I clued in. "No," I explained, "That's the last week of July. Not this week."

She rolled her eyes and huffed, "Fine," then grabbed her baby and left.

A and I were still standing at the school's door. Her teachers and several parents were watching.

A said, "Why was Z picking me up?"

"She made a mistake, honey. She's not picking you up."

"My baby brother was here."

"Yes, he was. But they've gone home. Mommy's here."

"I don't have two mommies."

"I know, baby."

I turned to the teacher and tried to explain, in broken French, what was going on.

He asked me, "Es tu la mere de A?"

"Oui, oui, je suis sa mere. Cette femme est la copain de mon ex-marie," I tried to explain.

"Ah, la belle mere," he said.

I bristled, "Non." She's not pretty or nice, I thought, and she's not A's mother.

I'll have to deal with this type of thing for a long time . . . and that's what is hard to think about. Mostly, I don't think about it, because I can't. Just like I can't bear to think too much about the potential disastorous consequences of this Offer to Settle.