Collisions

I have no real understanding of what post-separation dating as a single parent is supposed to be like. L is so unbelievably wonderful and understanding, and my relationship with the ex is generally so... even (that's the charitable word I can come up with now) that the early period has been a road of only minor bumps and inconveniences: "No, I can't do that because I have this... Hey, can we get together at time A because of event B?". These are the rhythms of parenting life that I got used to for years before becoming separated, so handling them post-separation isn't jarring in and of itself.

But coming into it unprepped, unprepared and inexperienced at those rhythms? That has to be a difficult thing for L, and she has been an amazing cohort, confidant and champion the whole time we've been together. That peaked last week, when she proactively suggested, "I want to meet A. I want to show her that I'm not something to be afraid of". 

This came from A's repeated resentments over my parenting choices in terms of spending time together with Z and L. When A learned that a group of us - L and Z included - were going camping, she expressed her extreme displeasure. Weather concerns led us to cancel the trip, and instead a group of us went to a Renaissance Faire. This sent A into a tizzy, still reeling from the fact that her son dyed Easter Eggs with L weeks earlier. Perceived threats and maternal insecurities were bubbling to the surface, and I'm not at all going to say those aren't valid or understandable fears, but it's so easy for the conception and the idea to take root that it obliterates any form of the reality. L quickly recognized this, and decided that the best way to mitigate this was to introduce herself to A. She suggested a phone meeting, but A upped the ante with coffee, and after some consideration, L couldn't wait for it to take place.

When my friend V heard the news, his eyes practically jumped out of his head, and everyone who heard this - especially me - couldn't help but look at L with total admiration for her class, guts and gumption. For me, it was the class most of all, and it demonstrated just how committed she is to me, and respectful she is of Z's situation. It was an amazing gesture, and I was deeply touched, which is how I suspect L felt when I confronted her ex-boyfriend to say that I was dating the girl that he was with not so long ago.

The  meeting went exceptionally well, with L hearing A's litany of concerns, listening to her history of resentment over her own parents' parade of boyfriends and girlfriends, and expressing how she has Z's best interests in mind, and it dictates how she acts with him. Amazingly, she told A that all the things about me that A hated were probably the things that she adored about me. A said she was "almost certain" that I wouldn't have any interest in getting back together with her - that I've moved on - and L had to bite her tongue to keep from forcibly removing the word "almost". I would've liked to have done that for her. It was only 8 months ago or so that I thought I could rescue our marriage - or that I should at least try - but now it seem so utterly foreign to me. What was I trying to rescue, anyway?

The meeting ended with the two women expressing that they actually liked each other, and was followed by A even throwing out the potential idea of L picking up Z from pre-school if necessary. A mutual show of respect and understanding, and everyone felt great about it, presumably. 

This weekend was a slightly different story.

It started on Saturday, where A's never-ending habit of being late reared its head before plans L and I had. No matter how many times I established that I needed to be out of the house by 5, A showed up 25 minutes after that, and didn't apologize for the major inconvenience. To be fair, I was so irritated that I didn't give her much time to apologize, but I would think that reaching out over that issue would be a natural human response. Yet, I don't think that A feels any need to justify any inconvenience shown me. I think she somehow feels that being married to me was such a hardship that she's owed back taxes for the misery of being my partner.  

Four year old Z started ice hockey last week, and it was a debacle, with him sobbing about wanting to get off the ice, being afraid of getting hurt, etc, etc. Then A and I took him to the ice rink for figure skating, and he fell in love with being on skates. He was great at it when he just believed in himself - something that comes up on a near-daily basis. Still, he insisted he didn't want to go to hockey again. He did, however, and apparently was fantastic. When I called A to ask how it was, I got a shit-filled guilt trip over the fact that I wasn't there, and by the way, "we're going again tonight" and that I should be there. I say that I'm with L and hear in return that, "you were with her last night, so clearly you have your priorities". 

So now I've been put into the unenviable camp of being an absent father if I don't show up, so of course I do. So now I have been guilted into attending night skating, even though I had previous plans. L points out that A, basically, has my balls in a box on her shelf. I try to explain the fact that there are some hills that I want to charging into battle to tackle, and some that are not worth the effort. But, yes, she has a very good point.

We agree that I should go, and from moment one, it's tense and ugly. I don't pay for A, and this clearly pisses her off to no end. It's not long before I express that her "passive aggressive guilt trip approach" to getting me here was, frankly, bullshit. She denies it, and then says that Z was so upset that I wasn't there to see him that morning. Again, turn me into the deficient father. 

I return home to find that L has not taken this turn of events well. She has finished a bottle of wine, and she's more than a little resentful about the fact that my parenthood is a constant factor in our relationship. But not via Z, but through A. To L my ex is an ever-present shadow - something like Mozart's father with his big, outstretched black cloak that envelops and overwhelms. And, for the first time, it seriously tweaked her out. I think that given the incident itself, her reaction was severe, but it was the culmination of many little events that led to this frank, open discussion of the reality of someone dating a single parent whose child's mother is still in the picture. And mothers inevitably hold a good deal of power in this relationship, with that trump card that can be thrown down at any moment that a father doesn't necessarily have any fair defense for. 

And L is right about setting boundaries, and A's need to control the situation, and at the same time, she can't understand just how fucking hard it is to try to keep a child happy, and a tenuous relationship with my ex-wife from tipping onto the wrong side of the emotional ledger that will have larger repercussions than any short term satisfaction that winning any given skirmish has. A wraps herself in a cloak of self-righteousness about virtually everything, and continually accuses me of being selfish, while remaining willfully ignorant of how thoughtless she is about so many things, demanding my time, my attention, my money, whenever is suits her. And what on earth has she given me through all of this process, aside from the (much appreciated) respect not to try to completely screw me in a separation? She can be often be cordial and diplomatic, but how often do I inconvenience her versus the amount of time I spend attending to her needs? It's not a very even ledger, although I'm 100%, completely certain she would characterize it as something radically different. We just don't see the world - or each other - in remotely similar ways.

Tonight ultimately had a certain purging flavor to it, and I think that L needed to get a lot out about the situation as a whole moreso than the events of the evening itself. Because these events are going to seem mild by larger issues that will inevitably arise as time goes by. It's incredibly hard raising kids as a couple, much less as single parents who must deal with and find common ground with the other parent. Especially when you don't want to be around that parent at all. 

L will accuse me of lacking some testicles, certainly, but I truly believe that there is limited upside to handle certain issues in certain ways. It's very easy to win the battle and lose the war. I feel that A works on a daily basis to win those battles - perhaps because she feels that so much of the world is beating her down - but that, to my mind at least, she is losing the war. I used to respect her a great deal - and there are many ways I still do - but that respect is draining away in so many interactions I have with her now. But I would rather be the one to take the irrational right jabs now rather than the knockout punch. Or at least I'd rather be the one who didn't sink to shots below the belt, like A telling L that "you shouldn't expect him to take you out to dinner". Not the classiest of moves, for so many reasons. 

It completely ruined L's night, and that breaks my heart. Yet, our conversation feels like one that will, long-term, be constructive and foundational rather than destructive. L could tell me just how difficult things sometimes are for her, and in the next breath say just how lucky she is and how much she loves me. Wow. That's a healthy, honest, integrity-filled relationship. Though I wish she had been able to let some of this roll off her back tonight, I have such admiration for her in so many ways. 

Eveyrthing about our relationship has been absolutely perfect. I am sorry that, for perhaps the first moment, our expectations and hopes didn't live up to the reality.