Taking Care of Business

The summer of Kim progresses nicely. Routines are establishing themselves. I wake up around 8 with enough time to take Roni to Fashion Design Camp and Jude to Theater Camp. I head back to the house to put off work on the tour and find ways to waste the day as Kim trudges through her mounds of homework. Some days we sneak out and eat lunch where we pretend to be adults without kids. Life is going quite well. Until someone decides to muck it up.

            Kim’s Ex has popped back into the picture and refuses to work and play well with others. For the majority of our relationship, her Ex has been waaaaay in the background. He has shown little interest in the kids’ lives by irregular calls missing birthdays, holidays, and even Roni’s surgeries last summer. He has popped up and dropped by in what feels like a courtesy call. It’s like a bad case of the crabs. You think he’s gone and then “Guess who’s back?”

For the most part I have been silent about my feeling. He is a part of Kim’s life that happened before us. I respect the fact her Ex (Let’s call him X for the blog’s sake) is the birth father and always tried to be cool about it.  He has always been cordial in our dealings. Frankly, I should be threatened by him. The guy is an ex-Ranger  with a college education. He made up to the rank of Major before retiring. X did several tours overseas in Iraq and apparently was in some serious stuff. He lost his leg after going back and working in the private sector in Iraq. On paper, he would give Captain America a run for the money.

Yet, I am not threatened by him in the least.  And I am fed up with his crap.

X never bothered to finish his court ordered program to receive the rights to full visitation with his children even though it was his second chance.  X never bothered to get them on medical insurance after the divorce even though he promised. (Remember, one of those kids is disabled) X never did a lot of things that I am learning should come naturally as a parent.

I tell a lot of funny stories on here about me and the Big Guy. Often we are odds and one of us usually trumps the other. I have not really talked much about what I learned about being a man from my father. (Though, I do assume there is a lot of subtext in that) Ol’ Bob taught me a lot and I find myself using it every day.

The Big Guy is Content. Jack's River Falls 1991

First and foremost, a man takes care of his family. I never got an Atari 2600 and not from a lack of asking. I also never was hungry, needed medical care, or wondered if my Dad loved me and Mary.  I do not see this in X. He has shown none of this in performance, attitude, or track record.

X moved back right around the time Kim and tied the knot. I knew it was a game changer but was curious about what would happen. Based on previous performance, I figured he’d run out of steam by now and fade back into the distance like X usually does. Keep in mind that X has never finished the three steps required to get full visitation. This was almost two years ago. Starting something is no problem. Finishing is another story.

At first, X has tried to maneuver Kim into ways to avoid dealing with this agreement. My favorite quote was along the lines of “Are you really going to follow that plan?” to Kim about six months ago. This pisses me off because the guy was given a second chance and still refuses to do what is required.

I often speak to my teacher buddy, Steve Freenor, because he is also remarried like I am with kids. During our Fourth of July Cookout, he summed it right up and his words have resonated within for over a week.

“If this was important to X, he’d take care of it immediately.”

 A man takes care of his family. Not makes constant excuses.

X wants to have the kids overnight as part of step 3 of the court process yet he was supposed to finish this 2 years ago. For the past month, he has badgered harassed and even threatened to take Kim back to court. It has been borderline harassment we have consulted two attorneys and even the court appointed psychologist who almost laughed because too much time had passed for her observations to be valid.  Kim has been as professional as possible, stayed firm and has put her foot down. She is finally not playing X’s game. I am proud of her.

A pattern has emerged that upsets me greatly. X will send an e-mail where he requests legitimate bits of information regarding the kids’ schedule. Hidden in those e-mails are little nuggets where he gets a dig in on Kim.  Kim has handled this like a pro but I am a Richardson. We take care of our family.

No, I am not going to do anything stupid. 20 year old Robby would have pulled something like that. You are reading about 43 year old Robby. I almost hate to admit that I have matured a bit over the years and finally have learned a bit about dealing with ilk like this.

The one thing I have learned in dealing with problems is to remove the factors that make the issue. X is making Kim’s day harder. No more. Starting today, X is more than welcome to communicate regarding the kids’ schedules, schools, camps, etc. through me.

Between 15 years of social work, Wal-Mart service desk, and teaching, I know a bit regarding dealing with difficult people. I am more than happy to let X know what he needs to know, where to be, when to pick up the kids. He is their father and it is his right to know these things. This is by no means an issue with me.

But Mr. X, I want to get something straight. I respect your rights that come with being a father of two of the most amazing children I have ever had the privilege to love. I also understand any frustrations that come with dealing with an ex-wife (been there, done that, had a bag of lime and a shovel)

You have a history with Kim. I respect that too. But as far as we are concerned from this point on, you interactions will be based upon the needs and wants of our kids. You will leave my wife alone and not play your childish games with her. I am more than happy to showing where to look for whatever necessary and pertinent info you will need. You know what you need to do. Do it. Take care of your business and be a Dad not a father.

As I say to my students, I share with you. Please do not mistake my courtesy for weakness. If High School, Depression, Back Surgery, Losing my Dad, Heart Murmurs, a cavalcade of crazy exes, and Kidney disease didn’t do me in, this is whole situation is a walk in the park. I will happily do what I must because as the greatest man I have ever known once showed me though his works and deeds:

Afterall, A man takes care of his family.

For the first time  in a while, the Bible and I agree

Hour Three

            My old Carrollton buddy, Scooter and I used to sit around while drinking copious amounts of cheap booze and would get all creative. For a brief period, we wrote comedy shorts.

            One of my favorites happened to be a spoof on The Wonder Years mashed up with Pete and Pete.  In these shorts, our 8 year old protagonist would go through his trials of life but in a more realistic sense. The one I remember the best was the family vacation in the old station wagon.

            Hour One: The shoot opens on our Happy family in a loaded up station wagon. It is crammed with luggage; a cute dog is snuggled up in the storage space while happily wagging his tail. Songs like, Row, Row, Your Boat and John JacboJingleheimerschimdt would be wafting along the highway as the camera pans along the open road. The Happy Family would be shown to be all smiles and laughs. “I love you Mom and Dad”, would be repeated by the various three children all getting along in the back. Mom and Dad would look clean and pressed as they smile at each other. They know it was a smart decision to take this trip. The camera blacks out as two hands are squeezed over the front seat. It would the family everyone would want to be a part of.

            Hour Two: As our fearless roadster tears across the open plain of interstate, things have gotten quiet. Little sis is reading a Nancy Drew book. One brother stares out of the window, lost in the magic that is Americana. The last brother entertains himself by reading billboards. Dad is repeatedly asking Mom for better directions as she reads an enormous folded out map. Things are well but minor tensions are beginning to create cracks in the foundation.

            Hour Three:  Mom is passed out snoring against her passenger window. Little sis keeps reminding everyone about her need to find a potty. The brother who used to stare out at the magic of America is now making spit wads. The last kid continues to read billboards, loudly. The dog has begun to bark but it is not a regular dog bark. About every 45 seconds, a “yarp” is heard.  The camera moves onto Dad. Pit stains have appeared on what was a freshly ironed shirt. Both hands are tightly gripping the steering wheel. Dads eye have glossed over and one begins to twitch. The viewer can tell a fuse has been lit and awaits the explosion.

            The Billboard kid exclaims, “See Rock City! Can we, Dad?”

            “Yarp”

            “I gotta go potty!”

            Loud snore pops up from the front passenger seat. At that moment someone rips a loud fart which crop dusts the entire car.

            “Would you damn kids shut the hell up, for crissakes! I am trying to drive here!!!” screams the old man. The car becomes silent.

            “I am trying to find a clean place for you to go pee, Dammit! So shut the hell up, Lizzie! No we can’t go see Rock City because it’s five states in the other damn direction and Tommy, if I see one more spit wad, you will not live to see your next birthday.”Helen, Jesus Christ! wake up and roll down a damn window. You’re killing me here. “Dad is not a happy man.

            “Yarp!”

            Dad begins to fumble for a cigarette which he lights with a shaky hand. He unscrews the thermos lid for some coffees. He drinks it like a man lost in the desert with his last cup of water. Dad takes a long drag on the cigarette only to hear a loud snore again and…

            “Yarp!”

            A soothing male voce comes over the air waves. He evokes memories of Daniel Stern’s narrations in The Wonder Years. “Dad used to drink a lot of coffee on those trips….”

            A few days into the marriage, Kim informed how she hated we were living apart even though we had been married for about a week. It was sucking. Our plan was to get married, Kim would finish the semester at SCAD. I would get out of school and then we’d get everything moved over in time for us to take off on the honeymoon. Some plans sound better on paper and we both were miserable.

            It’s no fun being newlyweds and not getting to be together. Kim packed the essentials and moved into the Geeky Hut a few weeks earlier. Over the past two weeks, she has been bringing their belongings over one van load at a time. It’s been slow work but Kim has done an impressive job. I have been arriving home each afternoon and seeing the fruits of her labor. Tables, paintings, and kid’s toys have become to mingle with my former bachelor lifestyle. It’s awesome. We are finally a family under one roof.

            As frustrating as this may sound, the one good thing about this has been how there is no rush to get out of the Richmond Hill house. That was until earlier in the week. Kim received a text from her ex or as I like to refer to him, Satan’s step son. He has decided to move into the house and he’s doing it on Saturday. So much for the idea of a leisurely move.

These bastards are lying to you. No move is this simple.

            Yesterday was the last day of school after one of the roughest weeks I’ve had in a while. It was announced on Wednesday that we’d be having an end of the year meeting at Tubby’s Bar and Grill. Due to dialysis, I have missed every single Tubby’s meetings this year, I was psyched. Until Kim texted me.

            Apparently Satan’s step son arrived at the house with a trailer full of junk. Kim was almost in tears as she described the scene like Sanford & Son. She was embarrassed and felt horrible for the neighbors who were going to have to deal with the impending arrival of the Redneck games. Kim asked me to come over and help after Tubby’s. I knew the right thing to do as a husband was to come over afterschool which I did. Kim was very explicit in saying I could come over later. I also know that Kim can take care of herself but in my heart, I knew I had to be there. If anything, I could be supportive if SSS showed back up with his new girlfriend.

            I also hate moving. Flashbacks of watching the Big Guy freaking out would shortly be arriving in my collective memory. I still remember the melt down of 1974 when I dropped a box of Mom’s crystal while trying to get to my comic books to read. Between the last week of school with horrible children, SSS’s newly rescheduled move-in date, and my hatred of moving, my nerves were shaky.

            I pulled up to the Richmond Hill House to see a 15 foot trailer in Kim’s driveway. Have I mentioned how her Ex is also so redneck that he makes the mountain men in Deliverance look like Harvard Men? The trailer was stuffed with broken boxes, rows of cracked plastic containers, and a jeep that looked like Jude had taken it apart and never bothered put it back together. The only thing missing was a rocking chair tied to the top.  The Sanford & Son song began to go through my head.  

            I don’t really want to go into how the next two hours went. Suffice to say, it went about as smoothly as a move can when two adults have tunnel vision on packing up while two children run underfoot. Kim took Roni’s room while Jude and I worked together on his. The kids’ rooms had the same appearance of the North Pole if Al Qaeda carpet bombed the place.

            It was rough evening. Kim was on edge because she knew SSS would probably pop up at any moment.  He has no real visitation rights because SSS never bothered to complete the court requirements. Instead, SSS likes to put Kim on the spot in front of the kids. He’s a peach.  

            Getting the kids to quit playing with their toys and actually pack them was the social equivalent of scooping up water with a spatula. The cracks on my nerves began to widen.

            I could hear Roni shouting at Kim from the other room as Kim went through the mountain of stuffed animals.  Meanwhile, I was trying to keep Jude focused but all he wanted to do was play with the baggy of army men we had finally put together. For every few army men I could get in the bag, Jude had to “examine” at least one. More fissures appear.

            We load up my car and I’ll go on home and pick up dinner somewhere. I’ve had a few outbursts but nothing bad at this point until…

            Kim came up to the car and asked Jude why he didn’t want his Bionicle collection. Jude looked confused and said he did. We have only spent an hour and half going through his toys. The final breach on my nerve had begun. Crazy Robby is live and reporting on the scene.

            “Are you kidding me? We only spent the whole damn afternoon going through everything,” I heard a crazy man yelling in my car. Hour Three had arrived.

            “I forgot,” a small voice replied. Tears were on the way. Kim just smiled and told Jude not to worry about it because she’d take care of it. She also insisted it was time for us to go and get dinner. Roni began to start in because she was tired.

When Roni gets tired at the end of the day, she begins to channel a little girl who has many of the same qualities of the kid from The Exorcist. Of course it’s worse because after all, Reagan was a little girl possessed by a demon. I have a tired,  hungry eleven year old going through puberty. I’ll take Lucifer if I had my druthers.

Let’s also factor in Jude who is now upset about our new “Fun Friday” might not happen because I told the kids not to bother Kim whom I know is already exhausted and just needs to be left alone to rest up. Jude was crushed because he had been looking forward to pizza, movies, and a game of Star Wars Monopoly all day.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hour Three. It was an eventful car ride but not one I plan to share. Let’s just say opinions were shared. None were positive.

I woke up this morning feeling a bit ashamed of myself. I could remember how I felt when my father would yell at me out of frustration. I am older now recognize how many of those rants were well deserved on my part. But it still hurt.

I love these kids but for the first time yesterday, I was really mad at them. I have a horrible temper which only comes out maybe once or twice in a year. Yesterday was pretty close and those kids didn’t deserve that.

This morning upon reflection, I realize they did many things wrong but I am not justified in my anger. Those kids love that house and yesterday Roni and Jud were forced to say goodbye to a part of their childhood in a rushed manner. It must be hard for the kids to see their toys just thrown across the floor and then leave them. I was trying to force closure for the sake of getting on home.

Roni also had to be close to tears because she desperately loves her real father but he shows no interest in her except when it makes him look good. She knew her father was in town but he made no attempt to see her. Meanwhile the guy who has been trying to be a real Dad to her is acting like an asshole.   

I can’t go back in time to stop what happened but I can learn from mistakes. I know that I am my father’s son which makes me prone to crazy outbursts. Frankly, I am surprised it has taken this long for a meltdown to happen.

One thing I do have that the Big Guy could not do easily is to admit I am wrong. Today, we are taking the day off from unpacking. The kids are going to sleep in late. I haven’t woken Kim up this morning. Today is going to be laid back day. Cereal for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch.

Tonight, I am hosting our first “Fun-Friday-Night-even-if-it’s-Saturday. The theme will be Jimmy Buffett Concert in honor of missing the show up in Atlanta tonight. We are going to have an old fashioned tailgate by the pool. I’ll grill burgers and make some fruity drinks for the whole family while Jimmy sings over Radio Margaritaville.

Sorry guys, about yesterday. I wish I had been more considerate of what you and your brother were going through. Unfortunately, I have tunnel vision when it comes to your Mom. I guess I need to learn how to widen that scope and let you two in as well. I know my heart has plenty of room now if I can just get my brain to listen.