A Tale Of Two Christmases, Part 2

With all that’s been going on with the child support modification and Mr. CF being his usual douche-y self it’s easy to say evil always wins. It’s easy to fall back into thinking that he gets away with everything.

I’m getting a lot less per month than I was originally told. I’m probably going to end up paying my own legal fees to get this lesser amount of money. And who the hell knows how much longer this is all going to go on?

It doesn’t matter. In the end I’ve ended up with the better deal. I took Rock Star and Picasso out to dinner the night she got home from school. We sat there eating, talking, and laughing. Both kids were talking about how they bought me the best gift ever. Rock Star insisted she had outdone herself this year and I was going to love her gift to me. Picasso, in turn, said no way, that the gift he bought me was going to the best gift I had ever received.

Christmas Eve came and we opened gifts. Picasso had bought me a Sega Genesis. We had been to a store like Game Stop where I had seen one and told him how much I had once enjoyed playing Ms. Pac-Man on our Sega Genesis years ago. He commented that it would make a good Christmas gift and I concurred. The Ms. Pac-Man game had been sold so I still need to grab that, but I’ve got the main part!

Rock Star’s gift to me was a necklace. It’s a round silver necklace with a heart cut out from the center. Rock Star has a necklace that goes with mine; hers is the heart cut out from mine. As she explained to me after I opened it: Now I’ll always have a part of you with me wherever I go.

He can be a pain in the ass and drag crap out. He can accuse me of spending all of “his” money on meetups with my boyfriend. He can insist upon paying the bare minimum in child support so that his whore and her kids can have more of his paycheck. He can do his best to make my life hell. He can even continue on with his snide comments.

It’s only money. He’ll always have more money than me. He’ll also always be married to a cheating whore (well, unless she dumps him). And I will always have my kids who will continue to compete over who can buy me the best Christmas gift. Because they love me and I’m important to them. I know it doesn’t matter to him, but it matters to me. As far as I’m concerned I will always come out ahead for that very reason.

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A Tale of Two Christmases, Part 1

Another Christmas has come and gone. Another chance for the ex to do something nice for his kids. Another fail on his part.

He managed to get a card and a gift card in the mail. For Rock Star only. Apparently, he doesn’t have his son’s address either. Hmmm….

It was a sappy card; there was a handwritten message inside where he tells her he adores her and that he hopes only for the best for her.

My son doesn’t know his dad sent something to his sister and nothing to him. I’m not planning on telling him either.

There is a part of me that says this is the hand he was dealt and he’ll just have to deal. I can protect him as much as possible but aside from that there’s nothing that can be done. His father’s an ass and he’s the one missing out. It’s his loss. End of story.

There is another part of me that is so fucking angry at him. How dare he treat my precious son like he doesn’t exist? That boy is amazing. He is sweet, thoughtful, funny, and smart. He’s quirky and so very literal. He’s an amazing musician and artist. He still loves hockey although he isn’t able to play anymore. He likes classical music and music from the 80s. He likes quirky t-shirts that mean something in his life. He’s a big Bob Ross fan.  Anyone who knows him is lucky to be included in his life.

For the last three years he’s gone hunting with my brother; he never got anything. In fact, last year they didn’t even see a deer. This year he finally shot a 17 point buck. My brother has been bragging about it to everyone he sees. The people at the processing plant were oh’ing and ah’ing over the size of it. Guys that had paid thousands of dollars to hunt in other areas were impressed with the size of it. The mobster showed it off to people who hunt and they commented on how it was “a kill of a lifetime”. They even went on to tell others about it. He showed it to his son who also hunts; he said it was a beast and was also quite impressed with it. My brother has warned him that he probably won’t get another deer like that again.

His father has no idea. He wasn’t there to take him hunting. He wasn’t there to hear about it afterwards. He wasn’t there to congratulate him.

For whatever reason he has completely disowned his son. Picasso no longer exists for him. I have no idea why; I only know it breaks my heart.

Guess What Day This Is?

Freedom Day! It’s been one year since I got the wonderful news that my legal bond to that pompous, entitled cousinfucker I was married to had been severed. I wish I could say there has been no more drama since that day but that would be a lie. I’m looking forward to getting this child support modified, having his wages garnished, and then never having to speak to (or text) him again.

In a not so surprising turn of events I have not received the $25,000 he owes me for legal fees. I’m debating texting him and reminding him of the momentous occasion (our divorce) and asking him if he plans on Venmo-ing it to me later tonight (ha ha ha- not a chance, I know), or just paying yet more money to my attorney and letting her take care of it.

I should have bought a cake to celebrate. I didn’t. There has been no fanfare, aside from writing this post to commemorate the anniversary. It’s been a pretty good year since I’ve been free of him. Hopefully it will only get better.

On this day one year ago I really did get my name changed back! There were still some hurdles to climb to make it official everywhere but according to the judge I was who I was before twenty wasted years. Definitely should have bought a cake. And champagne.

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Holy shit! When I made that joke about Cousinfucker having a law degree from Imaginary U I didn’t think he actually believed it. Oh, but he did!

My lawyer has finally found a moment to get our support modification papers together. It turns out Cousinfucker’s lawyer is no longer representing him. I don’t know if she canned him or he fired her. Either way he is now representing himself which means my attorney gets to deal directly with his special brand of douchbaggery.

Let’s review. To begin we will go back to August or September of 2015, shortly after I found out my life was blowing up in my face. He sends me a text letting me know how much money I will be receiving per month and then proceeds to break it down by each child’s graduation. Surprisingly child support did not decrease by 50% in his initial calculations. Back then.

Part 2 is also important. Part 2 is when I attempted to let him know that child support did not decrease by 50% once Rock Star graduated. That’s when he informed me there was no separate order for child support; therefore, he would now one half of what he had been paying. Then after contacting my attorney to see if that was indeed accurate he invited me to that UFC match.

The final piece of the puzzle is when he sent me child support the next time after this had all gone down. He made mention of the Potato Chip Squire and told me he would not pay me another dime until my lawyer contacted him with the new figures.

This is all important because he crafts a response to my attorney. It is brilliant in its sociopathy and condescension. One of the gems?

You have the facts correct as to the date of the change in the amount of child support owed. Specifically, the Last Name’s daughter graduated high school on June 7, 2018. I had not been previously informed that the amount for one child was not simply one half of the amount for two children and that is specifically why I began to pay [half]. When I learned that the amount was to be different in July 2018 I merely asked what the new amount was to be and until yesterday I had not been informed of the new amount.

Can we start with the obvious? He refers to his daughter as the Last Name’s daughter. He couldn’t use her fucking name! Oh, that’s right! Because now he’s a lawyer.

Secondly, this is the smartest man we’ll ever meet and yet he had no clue how child support worked, despite man-splaining it to me in the very beginning?

Third, can I paraphrase the judge and say that his story of merely asking what the new amount was hurts his credibility in light of the nasty texts I have? I told him on two different occasions that this was not correct and let him know he should contact his lawyer to get it modified. When he found out he was incorrect and that half was not the correct amount he basically called me a fucking cunt. He then informed me he would not be paying another cent until he heard from my lawyer and accused me of wanting more money so that I could meet up with the mobster, or as he likes to call him, The Potato Chip Squire.

You’d think he was done, but you would be wrong. He goes on to let her know that her figures seem to be correct but he has a newer version of the form.

Then he gets down to the nitty gritty. He wants to see my documentation of my income (of course he does) and of the health care insurance he apparently thinks I’m faking carrying. Because, “If we are updating the child support amount owed, then we need to use the actual figures from today to make everything correct and proper.”

The amount my attorney had calculated for medical and dental insurance “seems high” to him, almost twice the average for the state of Indiana, according to him. Yeah, I’ve got shitty insurance. I pay $188 per paycheck to cover myself and my two kids. If I was only covering myself I would be paying $44. And yes, I realize he no longer has any responsibility towards Rock Star but for him to be acting like I’m somehow ripping him off is insulting.

Unlike him I didn’t wait until the moment she graduated and then declare, “You’re on your own, kid!” I also didn’t get to march into HR and demand I be allowed to take her off of my insurance. You know, since he was no longer responsible for that. No, I’m still paying for insurance for her. I also told my attorney I wanted that noted so I have it in black and white that he doesn’t give a shit about his kid and what she needs. It’s always about fucking me over and never once thinking about his own children and what the extra money might mean for them.

This had to be the best part though: On your arrears calculation sheet you state that “he did some strange calculation.” Let us remain professional please and keep the comments to ourselves and not on our documentation.

Oh. My. God. That motherfucker actually thinks he’s a goddamn attorney!

Cousinfucker is calculating child support for his daughter, or The Last Name’s daughter, down to the very half hour she graduates and he is offended by my attorney not understanding how he came up with those numbers and referring to it as strange? I think my mother nailed it. How dare anyone criticize him?

I’m sure my lawyer is much more professional than I would be but I do so wish she would reply, “I’ve been doing this for twenty-five years. I don’t need you telling me how to behave professionally. If you were a real lawyer instead of pretending to be one you would know that we lawyers speak freely amongst one another when trying to reach agreements; and truly, if noting that your strange calculation is indeed a strange calculation hurts your little feelings you would never actually make it as a real attorney. I don’t come to your plant and tell you how to make boxes so why don’t you give me the same courtesy and stop trying to tell me how to be a lawyer?”

Naturally, he does not agree with the figures. I can almost guarantee that he is going to argue my insurance coverage should be calculated at the higher amount (which is double the plan I could have been on if it had only been me) because those are the figures given. He’s also not agreeing to pay the legal fees. Surprise, surprise! He argues, “I have no input into Ms. Awesome’s business affairs including the hiring of you, nor do I have any control over how long it takes you to do certain tasks. If she wishes to hire you that is her business and hers alone and has nothing to do with me.

What a fucking asshole! Of course the whole reason I’m having to hire her is because of him. This whole thing could have been settled in less than an hour way back in June or July. But no! He had to play high and mighty. No one tells him what to do.

Ugh! I’m so sick of him. Day 1 he really got to me. By Day 2 I was telling myself it was just money and even if I have to pay my own attorney fees it will be worth it. Some moments I’m tempted to just put it on the damn docket and let the judge decide. Other moments I tell myself to keep a cool head. Once I have this modified I can garnish him and then I don’t ever have to deal with him again. Merry Christmas!

4th And 1

On this day 24 years ago I was heading towards the church at about 80 mph.  Despite my hair stylist’s assurance that “you’re the bride; they’ll wait for you!” I felt it would be rude to be late for my own wedding and I really didn’t want my groom to think I was standing him up at the altar.

On this day 5 years ago in 2013 and then again the next year in 2014 I so desperately wanted to shout out, “Happy Anniversary to my better half.  Looking forward to the next x years!”  But I couldn’t.

Five years ago on Aug. 14, 2013 I found out my upstanding husband was engaged in a long distance emotional affair with another woman.  A woman who, it turned out, was his cousin.  We made the decision to reconcile but even so whenever our anniversary rolled around I would be overcome with sadness.  I couldn’t tell everyone it was my anniversary and have well wishers wishing me a happy anniversary when it was a farce.  My wedding vows had been broken.  There had been another woman- a woman he at one point claimed to love, discussed a future with, sexted with.  A woman who sent him naked pictures and claimed to be able to “envision a future with him.”  How could I ever celebrate our anniversary again?  I would fall into a funk which would last for several days.

I thought 2015 would finally be the year I was able to face our anniversary and be able to look at our entire history instead of a 3 1/2 month period.  I thought that would be the year I could really celebrate our anniversary and focus on our future instead of lamenting the past.  I had high hopes for December 10, 2015.  Unfortunately on August 10th of that year I found out my husband was involved yet again with this woman he had once claimed was his biggest mistake, a midlife crisis. He told me he should have bought a motorcycle instead. He was certainly riding something. This time it transitioned into a physical affair. Pretty much one year to the day that our furniture was being delivered to our new house from across the country my husband chose to meet up with his cousin, Harley, instead of going on vacation with his family.

December 10, 2015 was the first “anniversary” I spent in limbo. My marriage was over. My life was blown apart. There would never be an anniversary to celebrate, to ignore, or to grin and bear and get through. I celebrated with my children. They were the best things to come out of that disaster of a marriage so I decided to do something to celebrate them. We went to Olive Garden which was, ironically, in the city with the same name as the whore’s city. My daughter gave me a gift, thinking it was up to her to make that day special for me now that her dad had relieved himself of such responsibility.

December 10, 2016, the second one post D-Day, I was working two jobs. I probably worked 14-16 hours that day. First at Target, going in at 2 am, and then moving on to Kohl’s and working 12-8. I just remember my feet throbbing from being on them all day, and me hobbling around the store, trying to do some Christmas shopping with my employee discount.

Last year, the third one post D-Day, still in limbo, I was in Louisville at a cheer competition. The mobster was supposed to be with us but thanks to CF snooping around on my Facebook page we were both wary of what he was up to so we canceled our plans. Instead of spending a fun filled weekend together, cheering on Rock Star, I navigated a huge competition hall by myself (first cheer competition ever as well!) and sat alone as I watched my daughter compete.

Today marks the first time I have officially been divorced on what used to be my anniversary. This year I went to work. After work I stopped at a store to buy lunch meat, cheese, and bread for Picasso, and picked out some ornaments. I have a holiday dinner tomorrow and we’re exchanging ornaments. I also picked out one to add to my polar bear Christmas tree which is in hibernation, one for my niece, and one for the mobster’s son and his wife.

I did my best to treat it like any other day. In fact, every time I had to type out the date instead of thinking, “Oh, that’s my anniversary,” I would tell myself, “It’s just another day.” And it is. I have a knack for remembering dates so they don’t ever really go away, but the significance is definitely fading. Even though this is the fourth one since I’ve found out my husband is a lying, cheating liar and cheater, it is the first one since my divorce. I think that next year it will be even more insignificant. It will be but a small blip on the radar, if it even registers. As always I’m hoping that the mobster will be up here and we can spend it together.

Here’s to more insignificant days.

Two Consenting Adults & No One Else’s Business

I saw this a week or so ago. It was in response to advice given in an advice column. The question was whether or not you should tell the spouse about the cheating partner’s affair. Amy said yes. This reader had a different take on it.

You advised “Cheated Upon” to notify the wife of a cheating husband about the affair. I completely disagree. What two other consenting adults do is no one else’s business. – Disappointed

Ah yes, the ol’ “two consenting adults” theory. Sorry, Disappointed, but you are oh so wrong. This is not a situation with two consenting adults. Two consenting adults doing something that is no one else’s business would be a couple who decides they like things a little rough in the bedroom. You want to tie your partner to a bedpost and spank his or her ass? Fine. No one else’s business. A couple who decides to open their relationship up to include a third person or other couples would be a situation with two consenting adults. It would be no one else’s business. Other examples of two consenting adults doing things that are no one else’s business? Cross dressing. Furries. Adults pretending to be babies while they wear diapers and drink out of bottles. Meeting your partner at a local bar and pretending you don’t know each other. Having a relationship that doesn’t include sex. Wanting to watch your partner have sex with someone else. All of those situations include two consenting adults doing whatever they choose to do in their relationship. It may not be something you would choose to indulge in but you aren’t a part of their relationship and as such, it’s none of your business.

What we have here, Disappointed, is an affair. An affair involves two deceitful, consenting adults who are fully apprised of the situation, and at least one non-consenting adult who has no clue what is going on. It may include non-consenting children whose lives could possibly also be uprooted and destroyed, thanks to these “consenting” adults. In addition it usually involves financial abuse, gas lighting, lying, and rewriting history. The cherry on top is the devaluing and degrading of the non-consenting, clueless partner.

That’s the fun thing about affairs. It doesn’t stop with those two people. There are other people who are deeply affected. Even if one or both of them don’t leave their spouses it still takes away from the relationship. I have heard of very few situations in which one person was cheating and the relationship did not suffer. Most of the time that is when the devaluing begins. The cheater has to have a plausible reason to do this heinous thing so the betrayed partner becomes the enemy.

She makes me eat a turnip! He is controlling and emotionally abusive! She is a horrible housekeeper! He said he wishes I would die! She let me wear the same dirty pair of underwear for five days! He made me wear certain kinds of clothing; I couldn’t even dress myself without his approval! She doesn’t want to have sex! He won’t work! She nags, nags, nags! He hates me!

That’s the propaganda spread to justify their behavior. Granted, my “research” has come by way of reading blogs and comments from those who have been cheated on but again, it is very common that once one person in the relationship begins to cheat they also begin to treat their partner with disdain. The person who is being cheated on is left to wonder what on earth is going on and will generally dance harder and harder to try to appease the cheating partner in order to get everything back in order.

Stories abound of cheating partners spending thousands on the affair partner, draining 401ks, and wiping out bank accounts. If an affair is something between two consenting adults and is no one else’s business then why is my financial security now in doubt?

That doesn’t even take into consideration the extreme cases. The ones like Chris Watts who decided he’d rather be with his ho-worker and, I guess felt divorce would be a real hassle, so he murdered his 15 week pregnant wife and their two young daughters. He buried his pregnant wife in a shallow grave and then dumped his daughters’ bodies in an oil tanker. Or Chris Coleman who murdered his wife and two young sons so he could be with his mistress and still be a bodyguard to Joyce Meyer. I’ve written about other cases involving the cheating spouse murdering the wife in order to be with the mistress here and here.

If it was simply a relationship between two consenting adults then no one else would pay the price for their behavior. Obviously my situation didn’t rise to the level of murder but those two “consenting” adults wrecked a whole lot of havoc nevertheless. I lost my home. My children lost their home. We ended up being forced to move 600 miles away. I went from being a stay at home mom with a very stable income to being a mom who at one point was working upwards of sixty hours a week, rarely seeing her kids, and still financially unstable. I went from having a home of my own with my own dishes and furniture and decorations, to moving in with my mom. I didn’t ask for that. I didn’t get a choice in that. Neither did my kids. My kids lost their pool and their game room and their large bedrooms and separate bathrooms. All superficial things, sure. But it was all taken away from us by two “consenting” adults that didn’t give a single solitary fuck about us and what their “consenting” ended up doing to us.

No, Disappointed, this is not about two consenting adults doing whatever two consenting adults decide to do. This particular situation is about a man cheating on his wife. It’s about someone who knows at least one of them and who was cheated on as well, so they know the heartache and humiliation that can come with that. That person wants to do the right thing and let the cheated on spouse know what’s going on so she can make a fully informed choice. It’s not up to the person telling to convince the wife to stay or go; all they’re doing is providing information. What the wife chooses to do with it is up to her.

As for this, “It’s no one else’s business!” nonsense I will say what I always say in situations like these: If you don’t want your partner finding out you’re fucking around, then don’t fuck around! That’s the easiest way to prevent that. No one is obliged to protect your secrets and dirty deeds, especially not someone who was cheated on and betrayed themselves. “It’s no one else’s business!” is just cheater-speak for, “You’re not the boss of me! I can do whatever I want and there should never be any consequences!”