A couple weeks ago, Simone went away to Tucson with her mom for spring break. Before they left, her mom and I had very brief discussion about where Simone would spend the night upon her return. At the time, there way a 72% chance that I’d be out of town the Wednesday night they were getting back, so we agreed Simone would stay with her mom that night, and I’d have her Thursday.
But I didn’t end up leaving town, and I told Simone on the phone that Tuesday morning to tell her mom she could come be with me when they returned from the southwest. I couldn’t wait to get my girl back—we’d have a happy reunion Wednesday night, then I’d take off work Thursday, so she could have a playdate with one of her school friends, and we could wander around downtown, taking in the new blooms of spring. I’d take her to work with me on Friday, where she’d watch movies and draw while I got some stuff done, and then we’d head to the punk rock show Friday night (Flogging Molly, one of our favorite bands).
I sent her mom a text from work Wednesday morning asking when I could drop by to pick her up. The text reply was, “Tomorrow, right?” and it was followed by a phone call.
Simone’s mom hadn’t received the message from Simone that I was free that night, and she refused to change plans. She took me to task for trying to make a last-minute change to the schedule.
Okay, so…my evil thought was, “Wow, wait a minute. You’re getting back into town after being away for almost a week, this will be your first chance to see your husband after all that time, and you’re not jumping for a free night with him? What’s up with that?”
But the real issue for me was this: why couldn’t she, who’d had Simone all of that time, be flexible enough to let me be with my daughter? And how crazy was it, knowing the stories I do from single moms in my life, that I was fighting for MORE time with Simone?
Story 1:
I’m having drinks with R, who is newly divorced and has a couple of young boys, and she tells me how her ex always calls at the last minute, asking her to keep their sons, because he’s going on a ski trip or taking off to the beach. And she tells me how he’s dating a woman with three kids and insists that his weekends with his boys are spent 100% with this woman and her children, refusing to give the boys the father-son time they’re craving. The boys are emotional wrecks by the time these weekends are over, and they just melt into weeping creatures when their mom gets them back.
I say, “Man, that’s just not acceptable. Your kids are crying out for their dad, and he won’t take the time to love them. I’d never let that happen to Simone.”
She says, “I wish you were my ex-husband.”
And it takes her a second to notice I’m laughing at the absurdity of that statement, and start laughing herself.
The funny thing for me is, though, it’s not the first time a mother has said that to me.
Story 2:
C can’t get the father of her three kids to spend any time at all with them. After the divorce, he moved to another state, and most of the time won’t even agree to talk to them on the phone, much less host them for a weekend or a week in the summer. The kids don’t understand why their dad is no longer there for them, and C just keeps making up excuses for this jerk.
I don’t understand how a father could pick up and leave his kids like that, effectively erasing them from his life. What a bastard.
Story 3:
V is moving away from her friends and family. You see, the father is in love with a woman who lives in Wyoming, and he has decided to move there. He refuses any concessions with V, and won’t go out of his way to spend time with his young, young children if V continues to live near Denver. So she’s moving to northern Colorado, to make it easier for her ex to see the kids. It was the only way she could ensure that they’d have time with him, and she was willing to sacrifice her needs for theirs.
The stories go on and on. I’m sure you’ve heard plenty of tales, yourself. These jokebags give dads like me the shivers. And you know what? Because I’m a single father myself, I have no problem being judgmental toward them. You guys are a bunch of f-ckwit dickheads who don’t deserve the love and devotion of your wonderful kids.
You made ‘em, you need to stick with them.
Fathers like me, and Dating Dad reader Chris in Minnesota, work our asses off to make sure we’re there for our progeny. We adore our kids, and make the sacrifices necessary to let them know they’re loved. We’re not heroes; we’re just guys who know what’s right, and love our babies so much that we can’t imagine abandoning them. How can a man of any integrity rationalize foisting his parenting responsibilities on anyone but himself? And how can he even manage to live without his kids? How does someone just give that up?
So imagine how I felt that Wednesday afternoon, sitting in my office, explaining to Simone’s mom how much I missed my daughter, and how disappointed I was. I accepted the fact that I was at fault for not communicating with her more directly, but, really, how depressing is it that so many idiot fathers do everything they can to get less time with their kids, and there I was fighting for one extra night?
Anyway, I got Simone back in the afternoon on Thursday, and we had a wonderful rest of her spring break. You should have seen that kid dance at the punk show. Yeah!
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