AM I CRAZY??? Why does life always have to be a fight or competition? More specifically, why does co-parenting have to be a fight or competition? You really don't have to like the other parent to have the respect to co-parent for the best for your child. It's really not rocket science, just decent human stuff. It would be crazy to have the expectation that there would never be a disagreement or butting of heads. That is going to happen, even in the happiest marriage. Being a parent is tricky business. I know there are those lucky humans out there who get along fantastically and co-parent either just with the other parent or with step-parents and post lovely happy pictures of their happy situations but it couldn't have always been that way. Right? There had to be bumps in the road and a lot of working out kinks to get there. Or at least I think so? I've tried for that meeting of the minds, compromising, minimally stressful, so my child can have the best life kind of co-parenting situation. I've tried so hard. I've watched another woman "mother" my infant child while publicly portraying the child as hers. I've calmly tried addressing mental abuse by a "step-parent" while getting called every name in the book and being physically threatened. In the face of some pretty crazy moments, I truly believe I've tried to the best of my ability to create calm and peace for my children whatever that may look like. There are so many moments I could rant and rave about the difficulty of co-parenting, not only with just the other parent, but with "step-parents". All of those moments aren't what landed me in from of a screen rambling right now trying to figure out this blog world just to have a way to get these words and feelings out of my head. Now there have been some noteworthy crazy almost unbelievable moments but in this moment, it all comes down to a shirt. No significant other crossing boundaries. No disagreements about important life choices for our child. A shirt is the cause of my troubles right now and I don't understand why. A little background is necessary at this point. I don't like to fight. I hate fighting. I am extra sensitive and take things very personally. Harsh words and hurt feelings settle in my soul and live there. I avoid confrontation like the plague. I fight hate with kindness. I don't complain. I don't demand. I don't require or need acknowledgment for things I have done or do. It is pointless to me. Confrontation and arguing never results in anything more than hurt feelings. I take it all so personally and overthink the reasons I deserved such anger or hate. Realistically I know if I am really who I think I am, that anger and hurt has nothing to do with me but that is a whole different blog and has nothing to do with my children.
I don't ask for help with my children often. I feel if I have to ask for help from the other parent, it becomes a burden and will grow to a bigger issue than it would be if I just handled it. That and I was once told I "had my hands out" when I did ask for help as if I was begging. That will stop an independent woman from EVER asking for help. That I can tell you for sure! So it's not worth the hassle. It is easier to handle things myself. Which now that I express in words, I can see how I may have created this situations I face with my lack of expectation. For the most part, I provide for my kids and have since they were born. There has been occasional here and there somethings but that has consistently been minimal. It is important to clarify that I am talking about financial help. Emotional support and being present for our child is not lacking. No complaints.
So. THE SHIRT. Back to this "fancy" shirt that has ruined my night ... and probably my Monday morning as well. Dad bought this shirt and made sure to show me via text pictures when he did. It was part of a 4 outfit shopping spree. It was a nice shirt. Perfect for picture day so I asked if he could wear it then. "Of course he can silly, why would you ask if he can wear his clothes." (that mood shifts...stay tuned). Cool. Fantastic. One thing off my list of things to do. Picture day was during my week so once home, the shirt went on a hanger and in the closet. Not thinking twice about whether that would cause a problem. And honestly was by Sunday when my child was picked up to go to dads. In that closet it stayed for about 3 weeks until it became an issue and dad asked for the shirt back. I am not an unreasonable person at all. Just as he sent the shirt to be worn for pictures, I have no problem sending it back. What lit my fire was he made a point to make it clear that he bought it so he wanted it at his house. Ok. I didn't realize who bought what mattered. Never really was much of an issue since I am the once buy clothes and necessities 99.7% of the time. I made sure to thank him for allowing me to borrow the shirt he bought when he arrived to pick our child up. Was that necessary. Probably not. Did it fuel the fire that came to ruin my night. Probably. But at one point does one think about these things? Did I deserve what came after that. I sure DID NOT. Whether I made that comment which was apparently "rude with an attitude" or not, didn't slow the snowballing thoughts about all the shirts I suddenly felt I should have gotten credit for buying. Obviously this isn't about the actual shirt. It isn't about him asking for the shirt. It is about what point he was making when he expressed the reason he wanted the shirt. It was simply an "I bought it, it goes with me" situation.
I really could care less what closet the shirt hangs in or who bought it to be honest. It's a shirt. A shirt the kid will grow out of in 6 months. It was safe. I knew right where it was if needed. I didn't think it came with a return deadline. I didn't expect that he would be so concerned about one shirt among all the other shirts that have passed thru those drawers. But he was, because he paid for it. That really struck a chord. A loud repeating off-key siren of a chord that after all these years, all the money I have spent and all of the weekly bags of clean clothes I pack to send to his house without a thought, he finds reason to raise issue about one of the few shirts he bought. For what it's worth, that bag of clothes I send weekly not only has shirts, but has pants, socks, undies, and jacket/hoodies too. It's like the mother load comparatively. None of which I ever required be returned to my home since I paid for it. It may seem trivial that his request for that shirt spark such emotions in me. Crazy even. Trust me, I see it myself. But not only did I find it ridiculous and petty that he actually said to me he wanted it back because he bought it, I felt I missed out on so much deserved acknowledgment for the seasonal wardrobes I had paid for every few months, every year, year after year. There is a bit of sarcasm in that if you didn't pick up on my sarcasm font but there is also valid feelings there. If he gets to cause a scene over one shirt he bought, why weren't the trumpets blaring and red carpet rolled out for everything I had ever purchased ? I mean that at least deserves a loud toot and atta girl, doesn't it? If he gets to throw a tantrum over a shirt, why don't I get a golden ticket and cruise for everything I did? Spoiler alert .... providing for your child comes with no trophies and is actually part of the job so I will not be getting my cruise. Not now. Not ever.
This stupid shirt and my "rude with attitude" thank you comment turned into a belittling conversation of 1. questions about where the jeans that went with it are; 2. being told all I do is complain about everything and he doesn't want to have to "deal" with me anymore and 3. a door being slammed in my face. Now there was no jeans delivered with said shirt for picture day BUT after looking in the dresser, I did see that one pair of jeans also purchased by dad had made their way into my laundry. I missed the return deadline on the jeans too. I feel like there should have been reminder texts. You know, like the public library sends when your book is coming due to be returned. System failure for sure! I immediately got into my car and made the 3 minute drive to return the jeans hoping to a public hanging. The door being slammed in my face after grabbing the jeans from me indicates that the next week at least will not be pleasant. Once back home, I start completely spiraling in my thoughts as most overthinkers would. I complain about everything? I am a pretty self aware person. One of my best traits is being able to recognize my flaws. Complaining is not one of them. I vent. But I avoid complaining and try to focus on positives. Complaining about what I do and what he doesn't do is definitely not something I do. I can promise you that. Anything I dish out to him, he sends back 10 fold wrapped with reasons why I suck at life and am a horrible person. Which leaves me with unhappy feelings and usually a strong case of self doubt to work through. So I pick my battles very very wisely. Most of the time I won't even fight the battles that should be fought since it never ends well for me. Even if I am right, I am wrong. 2+2 does NOT equal 4. Side note - in the midst of all of this, my son is very for the most part blissfully unaware and is well taken care of and happy. These battles simply come down to the difference between what is fair and reasonable between dad and I, and what actually happens. These are battles. He attacks with poison-soaked words while I try to defend with logical reasoning and love. This isn't Disney. Logical reasoning and love does NOT win.
That all being said, it seems simple to me. I have never hesitated to send my child with his clothes or belongings. We are almost a year into this actual co-parenting situation. I say "actual" co-parenting situation because our relationship has been complicated. He has lived here, he leaves, he comes back, he leaves. The reasons why are at least the topic of 2-3 separate blogs but the point is, our child always stayed with me. I have always been his only home. Dad is now trying to build his life for the better. Which is a positive thing and I am very happy for him but it is a very significant change. For all of us. A specifically hard change, for me. I was in it for the long haul. My heart still is if I am being honest with myself. Our child deserves a dad and the one he has is a damn good one. The type of father I wish I had. It may be hard to have any kind of adult relationship with him, but as a father, he is a good egg. It may hurt me to pack that bag for him to leave every week, but I do. Without hesitation. Knowing that my child is blessed to have a father who is present and involved even if I am missing out on weeks of his life now. I pack that bag with whatever he may need for the week. No taking stock or inventory. No one cheering me on for being the one to buy all the things. I quietly pack that bag and send him off. Before this past year, anything dad did buy came to my home with no issue. So not only am I trying to adapt to all the changes, and losses I feel, now I need to start keeping track of what clothes need to go to what house? Or is it just this one shirt? Wait I forgot about the jeans too. So it has to be all clothes. I think? I really don't know since dad buying paying for things doesn't happen often. I may need to clarify. Or maybe not since I have that rude attitude. I will put that on my to-do list of things to overthink about.
Being told I complain about everything REALLY gets my gears grinding. I feel if I do complain, it is very minimal. Like microscopic. I do get emotional about "us" often. It may be almost a year, but we are talking 15 years of my life with this man. Complicated life but a life I thought was worth fighting for. I lost that battle too. I really am no good at this fighting stuff, am I? So I regrettably get emotional more often than I would like to admit. Actually expressing my emotions to him is what I regret. Not all things need to be said. I am working on it. It's a process. I really don't complain about who contributes what to our child though. Insert the whole pick my battles thing. I have never been the type of parent that says what I buy our child stays at my home. I have very little time in my days to spare between work, my household and all of my children. I have no desire to take inventory on what my child takes to and from his father's house. I have no intention of creating confrontational moments over clothing. I do not have the emotional energy to create additional baggage to carry. I have enough of a load as it is. Besides my own feelings and thoughts, I want peace and happy children. They really are the priority. I can deal with my feelings, I will not contribute or feed into any situation that my child will have to carry and emotionally process. I will go so far to avoid confrontation that I stay silent when I probably should speak up. Besides it just plainly being a waste of time and energy, very seldom am I heard. More often than not, dad wins the battles because I get fail at trying to rationalize with him. The only way I can put it simply is, he is a bully. I have expressed that to him with gentle explanations of specific situations hoping he may be willing to step outside of his box and not see it as an attack. Egg shells. I have seen small sparks of understanding, but those sparks get extinguished and more often than not I get dismissed with anger. This is a great time to make the statement that I AM NOT PERFECT. I don't pretend to be. But I am self-aware and put in the work to self-evaluate to strengthen my weaknesses. FYI still working on that with no date of completion expected. Most battles end with my exhausted and defeated surrender to his demands. To avoid further confrontation, I pick up the slack and try to hold in the emotional outburst I carry with me constantly.
The shirt though. This youth garment has fed a bigger issue for me. The shirt itself cannot be that important. It seems to be a self-proclaimed trophy to prove the act of this grand gesture for our child. Now call me crazy, but if I don't get my cruise, is it reasonable that he gets a trophy? Does it take a highly rational person to recognize the issue here? He is a smart man. I wouldn't have fell so madly in love with him otherwise. He is very capable of critical thinking but this seems simple and not complicated. Why be so proud of one shirt ... and one pair of jeans that I forgot ... but so dismissive and unappreciative of what I provide? And now enter the intense feeling of AM I CRAZY? Am I crazy to expect that he should be able to recognize how unbalanced and petty this is? Was this shirt the start of fighting him while he keeps score after almost a decade of allowing me to carry the load while he sits idly by? I do not want to be in competition. I want to be a mother! I want to be respectful co-parent. I don't want to have irrational conversations about which closet a shirt should live in. We could discuss the monthly payment to the orthodontist that is currently my responsibility. Hey, I wonder if the orthodontist will let me keep his braces when they are removed so I have a trophy since I am the one paying. Bad idea? Too much?
Hindsight, I really should have just put the shirt in the duffel bag and hid my annoyance. Thanking him for letting me "borrow" the shirt he bought our son was probably unnecessary. I acknowledge that. I really don't believe I should feel like I can't communicate when something is off. Saying thank you may have been slightly sarcastic, but it was not disrespectful. I didn't once nag or complain about the new jacket or hoodies I just bought that were in that bag he was taking with him. I could have. I haven't reminded him that he said he would "do the right thing" and help pay for our child's braces. I really should. That is a huge expense. I didn't expect praise or acknowledgment for being the parent that took care of our child while he was sick during "dad time" without even a conversation that he had no intention of taking him for the rest of his week. I assume it was because he was sick and that was inconvenient? I can only make assumptions at this point. I absolutely want to address that issue but I have attempted to discuss similar situations in the past. Clearly I wasn't heard. I don't take stock of what I buy and check bags at the door to make sure things don't leave or cause a scene when it doesn't come right back. That just sounds like misery in action. This shirt is just one small part of, what I think to be, an absolutely ridiculous battle. I am fighting a fight I don't understand or even care to win. Big picture ... had he just said, "hey can you throw that shirt in the bag", I never would have thought on it for a second. Him making the point of why he wanted it is what I am struggling with. Him taking it further to belittle me and tell me all I do is complain and he doesn't want to "deal with me" is now the problem. Who wants to feel like a disease someone has to deal with? Who wants to raise a child while being resented? What have I done to deserve feeling like this? I can seriously count on two hands the amount of times he has helped purchase clothing in almost ten years. That has been an issue but until tonight, was not something that kept me up all night wondering why I let it go so long without addressing all this but feeling it is far too late now. I don't want my child to feel such a separation between our homes. I understand it will never be what I had hoped it would. I am realistic about the reality of a separated parents and two homes. That doesn't mean he has to feel he leaves his home with his dad there and has to leave home with me here. I want our child to feel home can go with him. We may not be together but together we are his parents and no matter who pays for what or what shirt is in what closet, we are both his home. That is our obligation to our child. His belongings are part of his home no matter which home he is at. No shirt, no material item at all, is worth causing such separation that our son feels caught in the middle or forced to live two separate lives. My intention is to keep the calm no matter what the price tag and that will remain so no matter how petty dad gets about belongings. In an ideal situation, dad would match that intention. In the best of situations, I wouldn't feel I have to give in to pacify unreasonable expectations. My expectations have been minimal. Which, I am afraid, is a monster I have created. I don't foresee that changing without a nuclear war and that is NOT an option. The only casualty of that war would be my child. If I have to dismiss what I think is fair and reasonable to avoid war, I will do that. I will have to find a way to silently process the exasperation and not feed an argument. I will have to let go of wanting to be heard. I will have to hand over every trophy shirt that finds it way to my house with a smile on my face. I will have to quit hoping that if I say the right words, he may make an effort to do what's fair and be willing to sacrifice as I have, even when it's not convenient.
It's maddening to constantly question AM I CRAZY? It is emotional torture to wonder if it is just me that sees things as I do and if it is really just me that is the problem. There is a part of me that knows I am crazy because I have ranted far too long about something he won't lose a second of sleep over but will undoubtedly use in the very near future in a personal attack against me.
I really hope these school pictures turn out amazing because this shirt isn't worth it's trouble. By the way, the shirt is grey. It buttons up. It is not made of golden thread with gemstone buttons as you may have assumed by the degree of drama it has caused.
P.S. I paid for the school pictures too. This year and every year before. I'll await by award.
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