When I was married, Mr. DBD counted on me to get money to his other ex for his daughter's child support. When we separated, his other ex was out of luck. Me too though.
I live in a county that requires non-custodial parents to have their child support garnished from their wages. I also was smart enough in the divorce to garnish some other fees, like reimbursement for health insurance. Normally my state would require the non-custodial parent to carry the health insurance for the child, but since Mr. DBD job hops so much, I decided to carry it myself.
Job hops? Since we met 17 years ago, there's only been one job that lasted more than a year. Normally he thinks the "grass is always greener." He may have the charisma to get a job easily, but lately he's had a hard time getting a job. That part of the story will wait a bit longer. Suffice it to say, garnishing child support in a case like this is tough.
Mr. DBD would hide the fact that he had a job. Eventually the state or I would find out and send paperwork. By then, most times he'd be gone, on to greener pastures.
Mr. DBD moved out the week of Patrick's first birthday. There was a two or three month period where he was working some kind of construction and was paid "under the table." It was good money and I got quite a bit of child support. Unfortunately, someone found out he wasn't qualified for the job and didn't have the proper certification. So no more support.
I was working three jobs and paid $800 a month for child care. Every cent meant the world to me.
I went about three years with maybe two payments. It was brutal. But I made it. I have a certain amount of pride for that!
Some may ask why I didn't throw him in jail. Well, he couldn't get a job if he was in jail. This state will also take away the driver's license, but then he couldn't drive to a job. I need the money, not the satisfaction of putting him behind bars. (I could dream though!)
And then the sky fell, the bell tolled, and the fat lady sang.
No more child support for a while. He's indisposed for 8-12 months. Yes, that's for a future post. I'm not ready for that yet.
So fast forward to last November. I got a payment! Then another. And another....and I'm still getting payments twice a month. And I SO need it. I know it'll end so I'm not counting on it much longer.
It's been about four years since I took Mr. DBD to court for some other issues. Mostly I was trying to get permission to move out of state, but I also requested permission to change Patrick's last name to mine. In return, I offered to write off $20,000 of back support. I was willing to deal. I only asked to change Patrick's last name so I could give it up. It's not like I really wanted to change it. But Mr. DBD signed the paperwork with nary a word or a squeal.
Twenty thousand dollars
In three years, he'd built up that kind of a balance. And since then it's back up to about that level I think.
But at least he's paying. For now.
Thursday, May 23, 2013
To the Rescue
My Rheumatoid Arthritis is so bad right now, and the new medicine hasn't kicked in. I'm hurting and when I'm like this, I get lazy. (Thus the blog title.) I don't take pain meds because the only thing I have is Tylenol or Advil/Aleve and they don't work for this kind of ouch. Plus I don't even think of taking something until hours and hours after I should.
Tomorrow the cleaning ladies are coming, racing to my rescue. The only bad thing is, I can't pick up before they come. I know, I know. "Cleaning for the cleaning ladies." But I pay by the amount of time they're here, and they may be speedy with the cleaning, but the picking up will throw them for a loop! I have dishes...oh let's not go there. Sock patrol was missed by the kid so I must have a dozen socks in my living room. Don't even ask how they could have accumulated to this point. I can also have the sheets changed if I leave clean ones out for them.
Then again, looking around, it's not as bad as it used to be before the cleaning ladies. I just wish they'd do laundry!! Oh the joy!
But they are going to rescue me. I am so grateful.
p.s. The kid got out of bed so I made him pick up the socks. Woohoo! Now for the dishes!
Tomorrow the cleaning ladies are coming, racing to my rescue. The only bad thing is, I can't pick up before they come. I know, I know. "Cleaning for the cleaning ladies." But I pay by the amount of time they're here, and they may be speedy with the cleaning, but the picking up will throw them for a loop! I have dishes...oh let's not go there. Sock patrol was missed by the kid so I must have a dozen socks in my living room. Don't even ask how they could have accumulated to this point. I can also have the sheets changed if I leave clean ones out for them.
Then again, looking around, it's not as bad as it used to be before the cleaning ladies. I just wish they'd do laundry!! Oh the joy!
But they are going to rescue me. I am so grateful.
p.s. The kid got out of bed so I made him pick up the socks. Woohoo! Now for the dishes!
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Proud Mama
It's sad to say, but I'm so used to Patrick struggling with most things that it took me by surprise the other day when he wrote an essay.
He met his new resource teacher who will work with him for the next two years. He got the chance to stay after school to help clean her room.
He met his new resource teacher who will work with him for the next two years. He got the chance to stay after school to help clean her room.
.......He loves cleaning. Just not picking up and putting away. But give him a roll of paper towels and cleaner and he'll be busy for an hour!....
When I picked him up from school, I got to meet Mrs. L and she was very friendly. She gave Patrick a "magic notebook" with a red cover. She asked that he write in it over the weekend.
I thought this would be very tough to do because of his struggles with handwriting and he missed a lot of instruction for writing paragraphs. I told him Sunday to write at least a page and he could choose whatever topic he wanted. So he took the book and disappeared for a while.
I almost cried when I saw what he wrote. It was two pages long about Club Penguin and puffles. He wrote neatly and with correct punctuation and capitalization.
Mrs. L wrote back asking what are puffles, what do they look like, and what colors are they. She drew a great picture too. It was a neat way to get him to expand his descriptions of puffles. Patrick had already written a response to her and drew about 10 pictures of puffles, and they all had different characteristics.
The next morning I got up and he was coloring each puffle a different color.
So proud of him!!
* Mrs. L wrote another response today but he didn't have time to work on another entry because he did homework for about two hours tonight. That's past my cutoff. He had only 45 minutes to do as he wished before bed.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Mistakes Moms Make and the ADHD Consequences
I messed up big time. My poor catastrophic thinker and I are having a hard week.
The day before Mother's Day, we went shopping. I was looking at aquarium stands at the pet store. And I got sucked into falling in love with a kitten. And I took the little guy home. I mean, really, look at him!
What I had totally overlooked was that I would now have 3 cats, and this one is a long hair. Long hair. I hate brushing cats. And scooping the litter box. What on earth was I thinking?! So all weekend I thought about the pros and cons and finally decided Sunday night to take him back to the store.
It. was. heartbreaking.
Patrick had to be pulled out of school because he was sobbing and practically hyperventilating. I was sobbing when I left work to take the kitty back.
Patrick spent the day with my friend as she was off work for the day. She took him to a park, where I met them after I got off work. We were walking back to her house when Patrick started skipping and said he couldn't wait to get home to see the kitten.
Wha?
Um, Patrick, you do remember why you're with Miss D., right?
...how could he have forgotten this?
So of course, the rest of the walk back he was dragging his feet and barely moving. Then he refused to get out of the car at home. I counted all the way to TWO before he moved. When he went into his room to change into his baseball uniform, he jerked on the curtains and bent the brackets. He was disappointed that I stopped him before he could break it. He said that he was so mad he wanted to hurt someone. (That's not typical for him, thank goodness!) He also, at some point, started biting and/or sucking on his arms just above the wrist. He has marks several days later. This especially worries me because I think ahead to a teenager who's raging and self-mutilates.
The rest of the evening was fairly steady. He hit a double and a single at baseball so he was feeling pretty good. When we got home later, he didn't say anything about the kitten.
I, on the other hand, felt the loss the whole evening.
I messed up.
The day before Mother's Day, we went shopping. I was looking at aquarium stands at the pet store. And I got sucked into falling in love with a kitten. And I took the little guy home. I mean, really, look at him!
What I had totally overlooked was that I would now have 3 cats, and this one is a long hair. Long hair. I hate brushing cats. And scooping the litter box. What on earth was I thinking?! So all weekend I thought about the pros and cons and finally decided Sunday night to take him back to the store.
It. was. heartbreaking.
Patrick had to be pulled out of school because he was sobbing and practically hyperventilating. I was sobbing when I left work to take the kitty back.
Patrick spent the day with my friend as she was off work for the day. She took him to a park, where I met them after I got off work. We were walking back to her house when Patrick started skipping and said he couldn't wait to get home to see the kitten.
Wha?
Um, Patrick, you do remember why you're with Miss D., right?
...how could he have forgotten this?
So of course, the rest of the walk back he was dragging his feet and barely moving. Then he refused to get out of the car at home. I counted all the way to TWO before he moved. When he went into his room to change into his baseball uniform, he jerked on the curtains and bent the brackets. He was disappointed that I stopped him before he could break it. He said that he was so mad he wanted to hurt someone. (That's not typical for him, thank goodness!) He also, at some point, started biting and/or sucking on his arms just above the wrist. He has marks several days later. This especially worries me because I think ahead to a teenager who's raging and self-mutilates.
The rest of the evening was fairly steady. He hit a double and a single at baseball so he was feeling pretty good. When we got home later, he didn't say anything about the kitten.
I, on the other hand, felt the loss the whole evening.
I messed up.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Responsibilities and ADHD
I've struggled to get Patrick to do things without being told...5 or 10 times. I know that I should get on him much, much sooner, but even I forget about the tasks. And he can only be told to do one thing at a time. And I feel like I'm always always telling him to do things. Or not do things, as the case may be. I just don't want to harp on it. I feel like I'm always trying to push him down, to get him to stop moving, stop interrupting, stop goofing off. It wears on me.
Let me site some examples. I have him do sock patrol in the living room because somehow some way socks accumulate there. Tonight he picked them up, but he went right past (over) a sock in the hallway to the bedrooms. Another time I told him that it's his responsibility to empty the garbage cans in the other rooms. The bathroom one was overflowing so I told him to empty it and make sure to pick up the garbage on the floor around it. The second time I told him, he did take the can to the kitchen, but he didn't bring the can bank into the bathroom. And he didn't pick up the trash on the floor. So later I told him to get it back in the bathroom. And for some reason, it ended up in his bedroom. <sigh> I told him again to put the can in the bathroom and pick up the garbage around it. So he brought the can back and put half the garbage from the floor into it. <sigh> Please pick up the rest of the garbage and also the garbage on the counter. Once the garbage on the floor was picked up, how about the stuff on the counter?
I signed Patrick up for piano lessons. The place we go is fantastic, and the teacher is absolutely wonderful. But within the first ten minutes of class, I'm so mad for having to motion to him so many times to calm down, to stop it, to listen....I'd have him drop out at the end of the semester if it wasn't such a good thing for him. We both love it and he's good at it. (His dad has a boatload of natural talent that I'm hoping Patrick inherited!) The teacher handles him well by ignoring as much as he can and trying to ease him into the right action. At home, if I don't sit with him while he practices, he only plays for about 3 minutes. And then he's done! Yes, Mom, I practiced it all. When I sit with him, it's routinely 20 to 30 minutes.
Can you imagine how the homework goes?! I tell him to look at his planner and decide what to do. And on and on until it's time to pack up the backpack. By then, I just do it.
I have to be with him constantly if I want his homework done. His chores. His piano practice. There's no self-starter capability being exercised here. When will it end? When will he accept the responsibility?! When-I-teach-him. When-he's-old-enough. I've heard that other ADHD kids are like this, but it's making me nutty.
If anyone has any tips to solve this it would be great. Yes, I could just follow him around until things are done, but I've done that in his room. It hasn't worked.
Let me site some examples. I have him do sock patrol in the living room because somehow some way socks accumulate there. Tonight he picked them up, but he went right past (over) a sock in the hallway to the bedrooms. Another time I told him that it's his responsibility to empty the garbage cans in the other rooms. The bathroom one was overflowing so I told him to empty it and make sure to pick up the garbage on the floor around it. The second time I told him, he did take the can to the kitchen, but he didn't bring the can bank into the bathroom. And he didn't pick up the trash on the floor. So later I told him to get it back in the bathroom. And for some reason, it ended up in his bedroom. <sigh> I told him again to put the can in the bathroom and pick up the garbage around it. So he brought the can back and put half the garbage from the floor into it. <sigh> Please pick up the rest of the garbage and also the garbage on the counter. Once the garbage on the floor was picked up, how about the stuff on the counter?
I signed Patrick up for piano lessons. The place we go is fantastic, and the teacher is absolutely wonderful. But within the first ten minutes of class, I'm so mad for having to motion to him so many times to calm down, to stop it, to listen....I'd have him drop out at the end of the semester if it wasn't such a good thing for him. We both love it and he's good at it. (His dad has a boatload of natural talent that I'm hoping Patrick inherited!) The teacher handles him well by ignoring as much as he can and trying to ease him into the right action. At home, if I don't sit with him while he practices, he only plays for about 3 minutes. And then he's done! Yes, Mom, I practiced it all. When I sit with him, it's routinely 20 to 30 minutes.
Can you imagine how the homework goes?! I tell him to look at his planner and decide what to do. And on and on until it's time to pack up the backpack. By then, I just do it.
I have to be with him constantly if I want his homework done. His chores. His piano practice. There's no self-starter capability being exercised here. When will it end? When will he accept the responsibility?! When-I-teach-him. When-he's-old-enough. I've heard that other ADHD kids are like this, but it's making me nutty.
If anyone has any tips to solve this it would be great. Yes, I could just follow him around until things are done, but I've done that in his room. It hasn't worked.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Dealing with the Ex: Mr. Control Freak
Since I'm still new to blogging, I'm hoping I don't get flagged if I use some potentially harsh language in reference to my ex-husband. He brings out the anger in me. I didn't used to be like that. Even the guy I dated who broke a kitten's back didn't affect me like this other guy.
Mr. Control Freak has issues. I won't get into them now, except for the name for this post. I remember towards the end of our marriage, I'd have to sneak peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Mr. CF thinks PB&Js are bad because it's all sugar. I tend to disagree. There is actual nutrition in peanut butter. And who's to say I don't use sugar-free jelly?!
Back in the days of marriage, I made myself a sandwich one evening,and he harped on me so much I just finally threw it away. It got so bad I'd sneak them when he was at work. I know it was around the time Patrick was born because I told my OB-GYN about it, and she got mad and asked if I wanted a prescription! She was great.
Once we divorced, for reasons not currently discussed, there was no contact with Mr. CF and Patrick for a good four years. Patrick became old enough to realize he didn't have a dad and people don't normally think of things like that around kids. They'll talk about doing something with Mom and Dad, or make a Father's Day card for Dad, and it was salt in a new wound. Patrick's therapist suggested eventually that maybe they could talk on the phone. I was leery but I did it for Patrick's benefit.
I laid some ground rules. Easy ones. Talk once a week. He's not to get to know Mr. CF's girlfriends. No discussing what Patrick eats. I had to add that last one when the PB&J issue came up and he started in on Patrick like he used to do to me.
But, again, Mr. CF asked tonight what was for supper. He should be able to remember by now. Besides, Mr. CF never asks when I slave away for an hour cooking a good homemade meal to eat it all in 7.2 minutes! It's only when we've had the lazy meal. Seriously. Stop asking.
It also puts Patrick in a bad spot because he knows it's a rule and his dad is breaking it. And he knows I get angry. He starts being all subdued like HE'S the one in trouble. And then I get to deal with any fallout.
There's no conclusion to this problem. I just want Mr. CF to go away and not bother my kid. 'Cause if he dont, Mama Bear gonna come out!
Mr. Control Freak has issues. I won't get into them now, except for the name for this post. I remember towards the end of our marriage, I'd have to sneak peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Mr. CF thinks PB&Js are bad because it's all sugar. I tend to disagree. There is actual nutrition in peanut butter. And who's to say I don't use sugar-free jelly?!
Back in the days of marriage, I made myself a sandwich one evening,and he harped on me so much I just finally threw it away. It got so bad I'd sneak them when he was at work. I know it was around the time Patrick was born because I told my OB-GYN about it, and she got mad and asked if I wanted a prescription! She was great.
Once we divorced, for reasons not currently discussed, there was no contact with Mr. CF and Patrick for a good four years. Patrick became old enough to realize he didn't have a dad and people don't normally think of things like that around kids. They'll talk about doing something with Mom and Dad, or make a Father's Day card for Dad, and it was salt in a new wound. Patrick's therapist suggested eventually that maybe they could talk on the phone. I was leery but I did it for Patrick's benefit.
I laid some ground rules. Easy ones. Talk once a week. He's not to get to know Mr. CF's girlfriends. No discussing what Patrick eats. I had to add that last one when the PB&J issue came up and he started in on Patrick like he used to do to me.
But, again, Mr. CF asked tonight what was for supper. He should be able to remember by now. Besides, Mr. CF never asks when I slave away for an hour cooking a good homemade meal to eat it all in 7.2 minutes! It's only when we've had the lazy meal. Seriously. Stop asking.
It also puts Patrick in a bad spot because he knows it's a rule and his dad is breaking it. And he knows I get angry. He starts being all subdued like HE'S the one in trouble. And then I get to deal with any fallout.
There's no conclusion to this problem. I just want Mr. CF to go away and not bother my kid. 'Cause if he dont, Mama Bear gonna come out!
Broken Trust
Patrick's grounded for breaking my trust this morning. My rule is that he's not allowed to go outside or to a neighbor's house while I'm sleeping. He woke up at 6, and around 7:45 I woke up because the cat was pawing at my door. I never latch the door, so I know Patrick had been around. I called to him to open the door (so I wouldn't have to move my lazy, don't-want-to-get-up-yet butt out of bed). When he didn't answer, I went looking for him. I found him next door. He's now grounded for a week.
Grounding in my house means he has to spend the time on his bed when he's home. He can have one non-electronic toy and as many books as he wants. I don't really think it makes much of an impression on him though. He makes all kinds of excuses to come out. Water. Toilet. Hugs. Food. More food. More food. What's that on tv....Let's go to baseball practice, time for tutoring! Music class is tonight!
Unfortunately, at some point today, he manged to get my good scissors. And he cut up a pencil, his deodorant, and the stem from his deodorant. Then he carved on the bed's headboard. It's a good thing he was brushing his teeth when I found out because I was able to calm down a bit. I sat there waiting for him, looking at the toys scattered on the floor.
What the heck was I doing while he was so busy?! I mean, I watched tv, I made rice pudding, I was on the computer for a bit. Seriously though. Is my Mom Radar broken?!
Well, I explained to Patrick that he broke my trust this morning and it's important that he follow that rule because it's a safety issue. Then I explained that in the 40 years my headboard has been around, I never, ever carved it with scissors. To make more of an impression, I told him that the next day would be spent in the corner while he's home. Somewhere I can keep track of him, but where he can't watch tv. Maybe in the kitchen. Is it good or bad that he has school and then tutoring tomorrow? It'll be about an hour or so in the corner. I haven't decided if he'll eat supper there. I suppose I'd better have him sit at the table. <sigh>
Lazy Single Mom
p.s. He'll clean up the bits of deodorant all over the floor once it dries a bit. Hopefully it won't smear. The cleaning ladies have another 28 days before they come again. Oy.
Grounding in my house means he has to spend the time on his bed when he's home. He can have one non-electronic toy and as many books as he wants. I don't really think it makes much of an impression on him though. He makes all kinds of excuses to come out. Water. Toilet. Hugs. Food. More food. More food. What's that on tv....Let's go to baseball practice, time for tutoring! Music class is tonight!
Unfortunately, at some point today, he manged to get my good scissors. And he cut up a pencil, his deodorant, and the stem from his deodorant. Then he carved on the bed's headboard. It's a good thing he was brushing his teeth when I found out because I was able to calm down a bit. I sat there waiting for him, looking at the toys scattered on the floor.
What the heck was I doing while he was so busy?! I mean, I watched tv, I made rice pudding, I was on the computer for a bit. Seriously though. Is my Mom Radar broken?!
Well, I explained to Patrick that he broke my trust this morning and it's important that he follow that rule because it's a safety issue. Then I explained that in the 40 years my headboard has been around, I never, ever carved it with scissors. To make more of an impression, I told him that the next day would be spent in the corner while he's home. Somewhere I can keep track of him, but where he can't watch tv. Maybe in the kitchen. Is it good or bad that he has school and then tutoring tomorrow? It'll be about an hour or so in the corner. I haven't decided if he'll eat supper there. I suppose I'd better have him sit at the table. <sigh>
Lazy Single Mom
p.s. He'll clean up the bits of deodorant all over the floor once it dries a bit. Hopefully it won't smear. The cleaning ladies have another 28 days before they come again. Oy.
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