Tag Archives: travel

Virginia is for haters

This vanity plate says it all

This vanity plate says it all

With all due apologies to any native Virginian who may read this post…

The Boy finally calls me back at 10:30 last night, only to tell me that the STBX is taking him to Jellystone Park (A Yogi Bear theme park) in Virginia today.  As we conclude our conversation, I politely ask him to put his mother on the phone.  He agrees.

I ask her if it would be too much to ask if she could give me a “heads up” when she and The Boy were leaving the state.  She gets all defensive, about child support and visitation, etc.  At which point I finally ask her, “what’s going on with our court proceedings”.  She goes on to tell me that her lawyer is waiting to hear back from my lawyer.  The entire reason I even brought up our courtroom drama is because I haven’t spoke with my lawyer since before the July 4th holiday.

I explain to her what happened in court last month – as it was explained to me by my attorney.  She tells me flat-out that everything was discussed in court, including the amount for child support payments.  In turn, I tell her flat-out that  my attorney gave me a radically different story; explaining how her lawyer went on record stating that he had nothing and was not prepared for court that day.  To me, that suggests that the STBX has not paid her lawyer, thereby holding up the entire proceeding.  I didn’t call her a liar per se, but I made my thoughts very clear without doing so.

All that she has ever been about is money.  I told her as much and said that she wouldn’t be happy if I was sending them $1000 each month, which sadly is true.  I just want this divorce settled, so I can move on with my life.

The song in the video is really speaking to me right now…

a new low

I was packing the van to bring The Boy back to South Carolina when the STBX called to inform The Boy that his fish had died.  He, naturally, was very upset but he handled it very well all things considered.

I understand that the STBX is a chaos freak, and she couldn’t care less how the Boy’s mood affects my drive on this road trip, but to exploit his emotions for her own personal kicks against me is beneath even her.  Or so I thought…

The road back

En route up North with my son to spend some quality together before everyone goes back to school.

He was psyched to get on the road when we woke up Friday morning.  As we pulled into the hotel tonight, he had a meltdown; saying he wanted to go home to be with his mom.

The fact that he was tired certainly played a big part of said meltdown.  He is 5 after all and I’m sure he’s very confused by our separation. God knows I am.

Still, he hasn’t seen her in 12 hours and he’s freaking out.  He hasn’t seen me in a month; and while he was ecstatic 3 days ago, it’s like I’m old news. I’m trying to keep in mind the five year old state of mind, but it’s still hard.

from the lioness’s den

“Home is where you hang your hat”
Daniel LaRusso
The Karate Kid, part II

I’m blogging this morning from South Carolina.  My stomping grounds of the last eight years.

Two days ago, I made the trip down South to pick up my son for a week-long visit and to hopefully, tie up a few of the proverbial loose-ends with the Soon-To-Be-Ex.    I can’t even find the words to describe how happy I was to see my son again.  It’s only been one month; but some of those days felt like weeks.  My time with him has been an absolute blast so far.  To her credit, the STBX has stepped back and allowed us as much father-son time as possible while I’m in town.  The next week in Michigan is going to be pure, unadulterated fun.

Walking into my former home for the first time was surreal.  I blogged previously about how “you can’t go home again”.  In that instance, I was talking about returning to your childhood home.  I think that’s a sensation that almost every adult can relate to because, to paraphrase The Breakfast Club, we all ultimately grow dissatisfied with our home life; otherwise, we’d live at home forever.

What I’m talking about this morning is a feeling only divorcees can relate to.  I knew the my STBX  was going to be “cleaning house” in order to either make room her father to move in, or to pare down and move out of the state.  But when you call a place home, have a direct hand in the arrangement, configuration and overall spirit of said home – only to return finding it moderately altered – you truly realize that it is no longer the place where you once laid your head at night.  Granted, a large part of the void I felt was a result of our dog having to be euthanized within days of me moving out.  This feeling goes beyond the lack of any of my personal effects.  The most subtle changes, a new light fixture or a slight rearrangement of furniture reinforced the feeling that this was no longer my home.

I had several hours alone at the house today, during which I was packing my remaining personals. With all of these new feelings swirling within me, there were a few fleeting moments when I felt as I had during the last few months that I was still living in The House.  For the lack of a better word, I felt as if I was a guest in my own home, again.  This didn’t feel like home now and  it certainly hadn’t felt like home for the last few months I was here. This has only reinforced in me the idea that this whole separation/divorce thing is for the best.


I heard this song several times on my way down here.  While I can’t pretend to be a big fan of the Rolling Stones,  but the chorus is hitting home with me: “you can’t always get what you want  But if you try sometime, you just  might find You get what you  need”

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