I don’t think these kids are going to survive us parenting them. Not only is my sons Aspergers anxiety getting worse, but my daughter seems to have a heavy dose of ADHD like her older brother. Everyone talks about how out of control she is – or “how much energy” she has compared to other kids.
Last night I couldn’t get them to sleep. They kept moving into whatever room I was in. Daughter wants to watch tv and after an hour and a half I lose it. Son has been complaining because daughter keeps sneaking tv and asking questions which is keeping him awake. I kick her to the small couch in the living room and start yelling at her about not listening and I don’t want to do this anymore. They can go back to Hunter and not come back anymore. I’m moving back to Orange County. My son brings a blow up bed into the living room with us because he doesn’t want to be alone. He hears me and goes on a little rant / plea:
– So your on her team now?
– Your going to be mean and yelling all the time?
– Your going to leave your children?
– You can’t move. We need you here. I need to have fun over here. It’s calm over here.
– Are you on her team now?
I bring them over and hug and kiss them both and tell them I’m sorry and I’m never going to leave them and will always be their dad. I leave the tv in the living room on and allow every to sleep on the floor or couches as they see fit. Obviously not a banner moment in parenting for me.
However, Monday does not go smoothly and the afternoon is horrible. The morning started out well. Let the kids sleep in, and took them to McDonalds for a Memorial Day treat. Everyone is listening and obedient and pleasant.
We go back to the apartment to go to the pool and Son sees a bee on the grass in front of the pool and won’t go in. He starts freaking out. He won’t go back to the apartment and won’t go to the pool. I finally take my daughter and we start walking. Son is yelling all kinds of things about how I’m a bad dad and he wants to go to moms pool. We go back to the apartment and I send him to his room until he is calm and willing to go.
Daughter keeps pushing his buttons and I send her to her room. She keeps coming out and wanting to watch tv. It’s just baseball so she starts complaining and wants a different show. I finally turn the tv off and sulk. Almost three hours later he gets ok with it and we play for almost an hour in the pool and everyone has fun. Showers, lunch, and daughter goes off to nap a little early and without a fight.
Three hours later and I wrangle everyone up and ask what they want for dinner: sausages with onions & peppers or regular hot dogs? Either way we have to go to the store as I said yesterday and this morning. That’s when son flips out.
He’s yelling he won’t go. It’s not fun. He starts hiding in his room. Locking the door. Slamming the door. Eventually I go in trying to talk to him and he try’s to hit me. I slap his hand and he starts going on about how I’m on her team. How nobody loves you and he hopes I die. How he’s going to live with mom forever and I’m not in the family anymore. How she is going to keep cheating on me and I deserve it.
I lose it. I start yelling and screaming at him. He doesn’t get to chose. He doesn’t get to ruin everyone’s day. I don’t care if it’s not fun. Why does daughter have to have her day ruined because he doesn’t want to go. We need to eat and I told you we had to go earlier.
He starts rolling his eyes and I hold his head to look at me. Daughter is alternating between laughing and crying and tell her to go to her room. She refuses so I escort her in there and she starts crying and screaming she doesn’t want to be alone.
I come back and he is screaming about me being mean and hitting him and I’m on her team. He try’s to hit me again and I slap his hand again. I bring his eyes to mine and complains I slapped him. He starts going on about how I hit him just like her and I’m on her team. I finally walk away to check on daughter. I can’t handle what is going on in me or what’s going on from him. Daughter is calmly playing in her room.
When I come back his room is empty. I open the closet doors and he’s hiding in the closet crying. I come in and sit down in the closet and have him sit down in the room in front of me.
He’s keep talking and talking and talking. Mom – her team – hitting him – not wanting to answer questions about her when he comes over – he doesn’t want to tell me what she does – yelling – pinching his face – bruising – slapping his legs, back, face – he doesn’t want her to go to jail – doesn’t want to be taken away from her. He goes on about how I’m on her team now. How I hit him on the hand and cheek. How I slammed him and hit him and bruised him. How I yell and hurt him and he doesn’t want me to go to jail. Obviously his childhood sucks. What the fuck are the two of us doing to our children? I’m cognizant of it, but she has no clue. I don’t know how to heal me fast enough to help them. The only thing that ever cones to mind is taking daughter to Orange County and removing a lot of the physical safety issues she faces with son. Remove a lot of stress in both houses. Remove me from Hunters pull. She would never go for it. I know I wouldn’t if she proposed it.
I tell him I’m sorry for what I said, but I would continue to slap away his hand if he raises to hit me. I’m allowed to protect myself. I tell him that he owes me an apology for all of the back talk and screaming and trying to hit me and hitting daughter and pushing her.
We exchange apologies and I talk to him about things. I shouldn’t be angry and he shouldn’t demand everyone do what he wants. How we wasted four hours today on the pool and the store. How we still need to go otherwise we won’t have much for dinner. He says he gets it. I let him alone until he is ready to go. He checks his cheek for bruising on his face and can’t find them. Mom bruises him. I give him ice for his face to appease him. It’s not even red, but he thinks it is. I tell him it’s because he keeps rubbing it. Ice is on for a coupe of minutes. A few minutes later we are putting on shoes and socks and off to the store.
Things go smoothly the rest of the evening. Even trading choices at the store between the kids and working with the kids on trading choices so they both get what they wanted most. I think it was a very successful trip.
Especially helping son see that choosing the chips (Cool Ranch Doritos) was more important to daughter than her choice of dessert, and his choice of dessert (Mint Oreos) was more important than his choice of chip. Why not trade?
You get the cookies you want. She gets the chips she wants. Everyone wins. It’s these things I wanted to teach my children when Hunter convinced me to have them. Teaching them anger management techniques and to not hit his baseball teammates with a bat at six years of age was not something that I envisioned. Such is life…
Hunter comes to pick them up and I don’t say a word. She hasn’t responded to my emails on the divorce or move to Orange County and has been texting me her whereabouts on her trip back every few hours, but only when alone not with her brother. She asks me if I am going to be at the IEP meeting tomorrow and I nod yes. Hugs, kisses, and goodbyes with the kids.
Less than an hour later and she has sent me four pictures and a text. Within another half hour I have three more texts and two videos. All about the kids, but constant contact. It’s not like I can not respond to questions about the children’s health. I get her needs for connection and fear of abandonment but I need a break.
If I can’t have the relationship I want I want no relationship with her. I personally would prefer to never have to see or hear her ever again. Rebuild my life like Chris and Patrick got to. Pretend she doesn’t exist anymore. I saw a commercial for Maleficent and the quote is:
Evil exists in this world – Maleficent
And I married her – John
And all I want is to start over. She broke me. I have to fix me. She wants a fresh start. She needs me to raise the kids, support her emotionally, and be her rock in the future until she finds my replacement. I can’t do it and now the kids are going to suffer more as she continues to try and draw me in and I want to be left alone.
I am beginning to actually hate her. Fuck the BPD. She knows something is wrong with her, but she won’t get help. That makes it her fault. If she were getting help I would be supportive, but reading Mamapedia on how to create boundaries during a divorce is not getting help. Especially since she doesn’t adhere to the boundaries. Hence the snuggle and texts and photos and emails. At least she is getting used to picking up the kids at my place. It completely takes away the snuggle / physical presence out of the equation.
Although she still seems to put things on Wednesdays calendar where I have to stay late. I’m guessing a few days with the kids sleeping on my couches until she gets here will put that to rest. I know that is going to create havoc but until she lets me go or gives me my daughter and let’s us both go there is nothing I can do about her. She either gets help or gets to hit a new low in a couple of years.
Fuck it – not my life. It’s hers and I am not responsible for her emotional well being. Just mine and my children’s. Once she releases them I can save them or God will have to watch them. I have to save myself or there will be no one to help them put themselves back together in twenty years.