Dog Senses Danger

My Ex-wife showed up at my office a few days ago to once again accuse me of not giving her support payments, even though I had the cancelled cheques to prove she had received the money. Curiously my dog knew she had arrived moments before I did. I wish I had his heightened senses; I could have saved myself a lot of grief.



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What's With All The Drama?

On Friday, my teenage daughter called me from school asking for my help. She found out her march in science was in the low 30's. The teacher had given her the opportunity to re-do some of her assignments and re-test this week. She claimed she didn't understand the material and if I'd help.

I told her I'd be glad to work with her as I only had plans that night and early morning hockey each morning. I told her to ask her mom when she got home and that I'd get her on my way home from work. Half an hour later my Ex called asking why I was too busy to help my daughter with her school work!

WHAT? (said with rising voice)

Apparently my daughter went home and told her mom the exact opposite of the conversation. She got her mom all worked up about her dad abandoning her and choosing his new family over her etc. Why would she do that? Why ask for my help if you just want to use it to start a fight? What possible benefit did she get from throwing me under the bus?

I have racked my brain to figure this out. Do your kids lie to get your Ex's angry with you?

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Divorce Court Update

Knowing you all the way I do, I knew that you would all want to hear about my most recent visit to divorce court.

To set this up, I’ll tell you that the date was to discuss a modification to the current visitation orders and to address the contempt charges that I filed against my ex for not allowing me to see my boys.

Upon arriving at court, I was directed to the mediation office, which I knew was a joke because there is no way in hell that my ex would agree on anything that I propose…especially it meant more time for me.

After waiting there for about 20 minutes and …her not showing up, they sent me up to the court room. I checked in and had a seat. After a good 45 minutes of listening to the smug attorneys sharing stories about their weekends and caseloads, my case was called.

The judge asked us all to identify ourselves – and as HER attorney was introducing himself, he stated that he was only representing her for the modification and not for the contempt charges. The judge looked up and said that she needed to have an attorney for the contempt arraignment and that she may have to be appointed to the public defenders office. I knew that meant everything would be delayed…once again.

Then her attorney stated that she could not go to mediation or proceed with the modification hearing as her Fifth Amendment rights might be violated. What the fuck is that? I explained to the judge that I have only seen my boys twice since the end of November and that I wanted the visitations back on track. The judge agreed and stated that the current visitation order would remain in effect until we went back to court.

Additionally, my ex’s attorney asked the courts for approval on having the case examined by a child custody evaluator. The judge agreed and told us that it would cost us each an additional $400. Out of my $150 that I have…it is gonna be quite the struggle.

So now I have to wait until April 5th to go see the evaluator and then back to court April 27th. This has all dragged on MAY of 2006! I am so sick of all of this bull shit! I even received an email from my ex stating that she would “make this divorce as long, drawn out and irritating as possible for me.”
Excuse my language…but … What a fucking cunt!!!!

Anyway, as I have been doing this whole thing without an attorney…I think it is time that I slap her in the face with my balls a bit. (meaning … me getting representation.)

Other than that…cuz I know she is going to read this…
You look like shit. You have gained at least 100 pounds. Your smug attitude is laughable and your attorney looks, stumbles and walks like a freakin hobo.

A Friend In Need, Is A Friend In....My House

So, I have talked about this on Twitter a bit but now feel that it is time for me to get this out so that you all can comfort and coddle me. I think I need a hug!!

The back story is a bit long so I will man it down for you guys (yes…’man it down’ means to give you the gist in as few words as possible…just enough for you to get the point.)

Mariah and I have these friends, who live about 4 blocks away. They have two kids who are best friends to two of our kids. Our families have been friends for almost 10 years. Right before Christmas we got a phone call from the mother “A” who told us that things were bad in her marriage with the dad “G” and that she was taking the kids on vacation without him and she wanted him out of the house by the time she got back.

Now, as any good friends would, we wanted to help…in any way possible. After A and the kids had left on vacation, I went over numerous times to sit with G and talk about what happened and what his plan is. He was a mess and truly needed someone to confide in…as I have been going through a nasty divorce (for four freaking years now) I could understand what he was going through and how he was feeling.

I talked with Mariah and then, before his family got back from vacation, we told him that he could move into our back house until he got things figured out.

In my opinion, this was the right move for several reasons:
He was a friend in need
He would still be close to his kids
He had Mariah and I to talk with
And..I had a guy around to shoot the shit and watch games with

Now…let’s fast forward NINE WEEKS!!!
He is still here…and seems to have no plans on going anywhere.

I will speak for myself, but I have a sneaky suspicion that Mariah is right here with me.

I am conflicted and a bit spent with a bunch of things:
He says the same stuff over and over
He has sayings that are beginning to make me cringe…(i.e. “it doesn’t add up”, “152 of the last 160 times I…”, etc.)
He pees on our toilet seats
He makes huge messes in the kitchen (but he does cook well)
He tries to involve himself in our parenting decisions
He comes up to our bedroom on a daily basis to watch TV with Mariah and I, after the kids are in bed
He makes comments about him sleeping on our living room floor if needed
He stares, in a weird kind of sexual way, at Mariah
He’d rather sit around and talk about cooking than watch a game with me
…and the list goes on

With most of the stuff…I get it. I mean his head is fucked, he does not get to see his kids as much as he should, his wife is attacking his character and after 20 years…he is without his family.

So with the situation the way it is, we have him here talking shit to us about his wife and his mother-in-law (who has taken his place in his household.) And we have his wife calling us on a daily basis for information, support and advice. The stories that we hear from him and those we hear from her are almost complete opposite…someone is lying to us. We are starting to feel very …suckered. We really feel like we’ve been sucked into the middle of something that we really should not be involved with.

His kids come over here to visit with him and then his wife calls to see what happened…pulling us farther into their mess.

But what are we supposed to do???? Kick him out and have a friend living on the streets with nobody? Pick a side? Let him stay but not talk to either side about their situation?

He is a nice guy and means well….I think, but I just can’t help but to think something fishy is going on.

Charity May Not Start at Home For The Holidays

My New Friends over at the New Wife Revolution have been posting about Ex-wives with borderline personality disorders. I urge you to go check it out (it's not as depressing as it sounds). Any readers of Trooper Thorn here on Hot Dads or over on Dogs & Jeans are aware of the hell I've gone through with my Ex, particularly her influence in turning the kids against me.

My time with my kids (14 & 15) has been spotty through the fall, partly because they have their own lives and friends and don't want to come see me on the weekends (which I understand) but also because their mother keeps telling them that my girlfriend and her kids are now my priority, which couldn't be further from the truth. I understand that they don't want to spend anytime with her and her kids (even though my ex left me nearly 4 years ago for somebody else) so I make sure our time together is ours alone. But if they want to see me during my non-access time, my girlfriend has bent over backwards to make them welcome.

What I won't do is cancel plans when my kids try and see me during non-access time. Unfortunately, this is most frequently when I hear from them, as though I am being tested.

Anyway, I hadn't seen or heard from my kids since the middle of November. All calls and emails asking to see them were ignored and I was not given any time with them over Christmas as was guaranteed in our separation agreement. In fact during the last visit, my 15 year old was calling me an a**hole for making their mother move. (The courts split the assets and she is supposed to buy out my interest in the house. 8 months later there has been no movement on this).

So now I was faced with the issue of what to do about Xmas presents. At their age, I would expect the kids to accept some responsibility for their own behavior. They were making no effort to communicate what they wanted for gifts and I didn't feel motivated to give them an envelope of cash in hopes that they would "love me again".

I decided to make a $50 donation in each child's name to an organization called SmileTrain who performs cleft palate surgery for children in 3rd world countries. I got each kid a card, included the information about the charity saying "I didn't know what you wanted for Christmas, but since you have the capacity to smile I thought you'd like to help out some kids who can't". As well, I offered to pay for lessons in their respective activities in the New Year.

On Boxing Day I received emails from each of my kids telling me I'd "blown it" and to "get help or else". My Ex sent the following email:
"You must have some understanding how your teenage children would respond. They had been surprised that you would send them gifts at all and the hope on their faces before they saw what you had sent, followed by their response to what you did send was a terrible thing to witness. Your daughter was sobbing, your son said he had no father and his whole life sucked. Cards from the hare lip foundation arrived for the children. I have not given them to the kids because I thought it would just make things even worse."

While I understood that such a gift would be provocative (and I wouldn't have been happy when I was a selfish teenager) the thing I think is most sad is that they have no adults around them to say "Did you call you Dad about seeing him at Christmas? Did you tell him what you'd like. Don't you think helping less fortunate kids at Christmas is a good thing?"

Needless to say, it's now the end of January and my ex refuses to require the kids spend any time with me.

Who else thinks I'm a terrible father?

The Letter

Reaching back into the Geek Boy vault for this post written in June of 2008. But I think its as relevant now as it was back then...

Have you ever been in the situation, where you were talking to somebody really attractive—like the best looking person you’ve ever had the pleasure of being in public with—and exactly 2 minutes and 43 seconds into the conversation you realize that they are unbearably dull?

Well this happened to me, only I didn’t know it because I was 15 years old.

Recently my parents sold the house in which I grew up, meaning that a few weeks ago two boxes containing all of my old stuff arrived at my front door. Going through the boxes, I have never been so happy that not only was I a pack rat, but I was an incredibly organized pack rat. I know it will sound really nerdy of me to admit this, but I actually kept all of my notes, journals, term papers, creative writing endeavors in chronological order. I’ve since been spending evenings here and there re-living my teenage years. The mountain of paper that grew out of these boxes provides a very vivid and accurate portrait of yours truly right in the midst of his most gawkiest, rawest and hardest teenaged years.

But those times weren’t all bad because in the summer of 1988, I met a girl. She was one of the most memorable “J”s in a long line of girls I’ve dated whose names began with that initial. This particular J was, to me at the time, the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. And she liked me. I mean really liked me. She liked me in the only way a 15 year-old girl likes anything—totally obsessed for a very, very short period of time. And I liked her back. I mean I really really liked her back. This was true pimply puppy love. We spent two glorious whirlwind romantic weeks together before I shipped off…on a teen tour across the country.

Before I left, there was a teary goodbye between us that could have been lifted from a sweeping Forties-era romantic epic. She promised to write. And she made good on her promise with a nearly 50 page handwritten correspondence that came to be known on my tour bus as, “the letter.” The Letter’s magnitude was unprecedented in the brief romantic experiences of the 50 or so teens on that bus. It's very existence and the fact that it was sent to me became the stuff of legend. It helped make the summer of 1988 one of the most memorable I’ve ever had.

Exactly 20 summers have passed since then. And in unpacking the boxes I found, nestled between my journal and one of my high school yearbooks, the letter.

Before I get into the letter, here are two things you need to know about this girl:

1) She dumped me the moment I returned from my trip. Literally as I’m driving back home from the airport.

2) Years after that summer, I learned she was severely anorexic when she would show up at the gym with less meat on her than a chicken. She was topic of a lot of gossip by my mother’s friends.

The contents of this letter are truly astounding. It is written in the classic bubbly girl scrawl. The one where all of the dots over the “i”s and the periods are little puffy circles. In reading this letter, I immediately realized that this girl was the most vapid, shallow and boring girl ever. A good majority of the letter was spent telling me about the minute details of her day. You see, J led a very simple life. Her summery days were spent exercising to Kathy Smith’s aerobic workout videos and weighing herself. In the afternoon, she would sunbathe on her deck and then cool off in front of the TV watching reruns of “The Brady Bunch.” That doesn’t leave a lot to write about. Often in the letter she would just list what songs were playing on the radio. A typical passage of the Letter went like this:

“The song ‘Electric Blue’ is on Q107. Before they were playing ‘Faithfully’ by Journey. WAVA is playing ‘Hungry Eyes’ by I don’t know who [Eric Carmen, by the way]. But I’m listening to Q107. They’re in the middle of a 10 in a row overflow. Pretty nifty."

I’m not kidding. This went on for pages and pages. In another section she refers to one radio station as “the black people station.” Holy shit. She’s a racist too!

Of course, I had absolutely no idea at the time who this girl really was. All actual memories of real conversations with her have eroded over time. But this letter serves as a perfectly preserved snapshot of this girl in the neon-colored time that was 1988, and how a young geeky boy ignorantly and blissfully fell for a beautiful blonde.

I’m so thankful that the 15 year-old me knew that the 35 year-old me would totally love this stuff.

Divorce Court Update

By TentCamper

So as a few of you know, I was downtown Los Angeles today for my 9,864,567 appearance in divorce court. (The low number is due to the fact that this divorce only started in Spring of 2006.)

Anyway, as I was sitting and waiting to see the mediator and then for the judge, I took the 4 hours of ‘hall time’ to check out some of the freaks mulling about.

I hope that I don’t offend anyone reading this…it would not be my intention…but if you do get offended by this…there may be something wrong with you.

Alright, back to my being judgmental, voyeuristic…and bust plain mean.

I can’t recall what order I saw these in but here goes a glimpse of what my eyes witnessed …all before noon today:

A roughly 65 year old black woman walking down the hall, wearing baggy bright turquoise cotton pants and shirt with a train conductor style hat that looked to be made of tin foil. At first glance I thought she had some ready to eat Jiffy Pop balanced on her head.

A 50-something year old black man wearing purple basketball shoes, black jeans (with purple streaks all over, who accompanied his severe pimp walk with the use of a cane…but the cane was solely used as a sort of flare…he’d swing it up in front of him, then give it a bit of a twist (as if it were a move that he saw in some old Michael Jackson video that he thought was cool.) Oh yeah…and dangling from the end of the cane’s handle was about a 5 karat cubic zirconium, dancing itself all the way down the hall, hanging on a little 4 inch string.

A 5 foot 2 inch woman who had to weigh about 250 pounds wearing (unintentionally, I’m sure) skin tight, black pants and a big poofy, bright orange blouse…I could not help but to think ‘pumpkin’… ‘BIG pumpkin!’

A woman sitting on a bench in one of the side halls, breastfeeding her baby…and a 35 (or so) year old guy leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hall…staring, with a creepy smirk and then he readjusted so that his file folders were in front of his crotch. (what was he trying to hide????)

A woman in her late 20’s (Persian I would guess) who had quite evidently had ‘mounds’ of work done on her large and in charge boobs. Her lips were ones that would make Lisa Rena jealous. The problem that I noticed is that SHE, not her man, wanted her to get the work done. Everything on her as she looked into a mirror, I’m sure, looked great to her. As she turned around…I notice that the woman had ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NO ASS. If a man wanted her to get cosmetic shit done to her…I assure you that he would have wanted ‘things’ proportional.
(Maybe the Dr. took her ass and shoved it into her chest and mouth.)

A mid 30’s woman, standing up against the wall across from me looking up and down the hall, (obviously waiting for someone.) She was holding her iPhone in both hands, down in front of her. Then I noticed that she kept twisting her phone back and forth…still glancing up and down the hall. Slow-ass me finally realized that she was iPhone-terbating…right there in the courthouse hallway! WTF!?

Oddly…the strangest one to me was ‘the guy’ that was lurking around the divorce court mediation office. I saw him at 7:30 AM, when I got there, talking to some woman. I thought nothing of it until she was called in and then I saw him winking as he approached some other girl waiting to get her divorce finalized. This guy was still there at 11:30 when I was leaving mediation…and he was sitting and trying to strike up a conversation with some other lady…who by the way wanted nothing to do with him.
(I suppose it is one place to meet a woman who may be in the need for a shoulder…but fuck dude!!!)

THIS, MY FRIENDS IS WHY I NEED A BLACKBERRY OR iPHONE...THEN YOU WOULD HAVE PICTURES TO GO ALONG WITH MY ATTEMPTS AT DESCRIBING THIS...HORROR.

A Day That Will Live On Forever

I don’t want to sound like I am beating an old, worn out drum, but I have to throw this out at you all.

This past Sunday was my son’s 8th birthday and both of my boys were with Mariah and I for the weekend.

We have been very excited about this birthday weekend and have been throwing around ideas about what to do for him and what to get him. I know that we talked about taking him rock climbing and buying him a ‘big boy bike’ on Twitter and our blogs. Now this post has two connected, but separate parts.

First of all, as some of you already know, my EX is a blogger and is also on Twitter. I know that she (and or her friends) read/monitor pretty much everything that Mariah and I say while online (and I know I should be more careful about what I say…but I really don’t care if she knows what I am saying.) That being said, I have been confronted by her regarding misinterpreted things that I’ve said and done, and she has brought them to her lawyer and into court. Still…the bottom line is that I know that I am a good father. I know that I have a safe and secure home. I know that the children in this house are very well cared for….and I know that she just wants to feel in control or that she is better than I am. The fact that she and her friends lurk around our blogs and Twitter updates and are too embarrassed or feeble to show their faces …says a little something about all of their characters. (*so ‘other side’ when you read this please feel free to comment and state your opinion ‘like a man.’)

Secondly…We decided to buy a big boy bike (two wheeler) for my son for his birthday. He has mentioned to me that he does not have one and does not know how to ride one. (Personally, I think that every kid (especially boys) should have the opportunity to learn to ride a bike by 5 or 6.) Anyway, I do not know what the reasoning is for why his mother never bought him a bike or encouraged the ‘nanny’ to teach him….but I am glad now. One of the best feelings in the world was getting this bike for him, taking him across the street to the school yard and teaching him to ride like the wind.

After getting to the playground I held the back of his seat while spouting out all of my words of wisdom that pertain to learning to ride a bike; “Always look straight in front of you. Pedal a bit faster. Hold your body up straight. If you feel you are going to fall…put your feet down. Don’t be afraid to fall. Did I tell you how many times I crashed learning to ride?” and the list went on and on. Within no more than 10 minutes, he was riding all by himself. I was amazed…but not nearly as amazed as he was. He told me on the way to the school that he was scared and did not know if he could do it. His face was glowing all day long. by his attitude and the expression on his face...this was far better than a free pass at a candy or toy store. He was so proud of himself. Little mini me could just be the XGames 2018 winner. He definitely got an A+ from this bike instructor.

This I know for sure…neither he nor I will ever forget the fact that we did this together. From my past and from this experience…I know that for a father and son, this is what it is all about.

When their mother came to pick them up, he was so excited to show her that he could now ride a bike…he jumped on and burned rubber all the way down the block and back. Upon his return, she looked at him and said, “Wow…great…cuz a bike is exactly what someone else got you for your birthday.” My son also had mentioned to me that his mother was having a rock climbing party for him. (see BOLD statements above)

I don’t worry though…the first learning how to ride a bike and dad teaching is one thing that even his mother will never be able to take from either one of us…though she may try.