Therapize da Mama.

2
267

I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna write a co-parenting post…

Alright, so I’m a single Mama…right, we all know that fact. My co-parenting life is only made easier by the therapist we are ordered to share. Yup, I asked for that in the Parenting Plan. I couldn’t survive our daily twisters without her. Why would I do that? Why would I bother? Because without her our communication becomes tirades of selfishness and anger based only on crappy things that happened during our relationship. We argue to be right. We banter to prove points that are unnecessary. We both do it. It’s not just him. I know this thanks to my own therapist. I’m just as flawed as he is…duh, that’s why the relationship turned toxic. We fed off each other and it just got awful. So for the Monkey I do this. I push myself to be a better person, not healed. I won’t be healed in the near future. However I can make the efforts to do better and be the best Mama, right? Definitely.

Today we had therapy. I heart our therapist. She doesn’t side with either of us but she knows that the Bio has anger management issues and struggles with communicating with me without anger when he feels attacked. And that’s most of the time me thinks. The topic today? Child support payments and drop-off post weekends with the Bio. Neither needed to be BIG convos and it could have been an easy-peasy session. However, as we tend to discover there is some underlying issue. He hates paying ME money…umm, it’s not me its for our Monkey, who desperately needs clothes like every time I dress him. The thought process is that he’s giving me money and somehow he doesn’t grasp that I’m not taking the money for ME! I’ve been going over this with him since I moved out of our house. He tries to adjust the payment schedule to suite his life and that’s not okay. I have bills to pay. I have shoes to buy for the kiddo. I’ve got a constant supply of meds and supplies to keep on handy for the Monkey. I’m not running to Vegas and gambling it away. I’m not buying myself fancy shoes with it. And I’m not supporting some lame habit with it…I quit smoking years ago! Boo-yah.

ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The second topic touched a nerve with him that sent us running down a street of Bio-filled insecurities. I wanted to bring up that after his weekend with the Monkey we had agreed in mediation to a 9am drop-off so that it was two full days of Bio time, since we were extending the school schedule to 3 full days. Well let me tell you the can of worms that opened up was awful. He doesn’t appreciate that he has to drop-off our son at a certain and if he’s late get harassed about it. He doesn’t like how they treat him at the school. Or that when he visits daily he gets an odd look for the Director, oh and he’s not her biggest fan…but I adore her no-nonsense approach to stuff. Love it. So we bantered about this for the better part of our session. I looked at the therapist and admitted I was feeling a bit defensive and attacked when all I wanted to do was agree on a drop-off time. Whoa. I mean seriously, who drops in at their kids schools during the day? He assumed I went on my lunch break daily…um, NOOOO. It’s confusing and disruptive and really he only does it to prove a point. What that is? I’m not sure…he’s narcissist? That he has to be right? That he will always get his way? Eh, I’m not very sure.

Bottom line is I love our therapist because she sees the forest forthe trees. She sees when he’s deflecting something onto me that has nada to do with me. And vice versa, cause Mama ain’t perfect. If it wasn’t for therapy, I don’t know where we’d be.

Someday, I hope that this stops being about the end of us and the kid we brought into the world. I hope the baggage and awful things that happened can melt away and it can be about the moment for our Monkey and not the moments that destroyed a partnership. Will we ever get there? Maybe in 15 years….

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here