I just had another reminder how W still takes potshots at me... and still hits her target despite how much detachment I think I am achieving.
I just returned from a little last minute Christmas shopping when W called on the mobile phone. She was at some mall waiting to have the boys' picture taken with Santa (she never told me she was going to to this, although she had "suggested" I do this last weekend, which there was no way that was going to work out.) She said she was trying to preempt my nightly call to say goodnight to the boys because they were likely going to be in the middle of the visit with Santa at my regular time (8 PM).
Okay, so I got to speak to my S's and to express how thrilled I was they were going to see Santa and then wished them good night. S6 then put W back on the phone -- W took the opportunity to determine how we were going to divvy up the holiday weekend custody with our S's. I will get them Friday, Saturday and Sunday Night, and then return them Monday Night, Christmas Eve. That way they can be at the house first thing Christmas morning for opening presents.
I had already considered this plan myself, so I agreed with W that it made sense. And I was just about to inquire about the schedule/plans for my presence during the gift opening Christmas morning (is she going to be hostile in that regard I have been wondering) -- but that was when she laid another one of her whammies on me! She said something to the effect, "... and what I want from you is your signature."
I stopped and paused, and then said, "My signature?"
W said, "On the agreement!" ... referring to her cherished Separation Agreement (SA). "If you would just sign the agreement, that's all I would need from you."
She had switched immediately from motherly W mode to Ms. Scrooge WAS mode without skipping a beat.
Internally I was floored, but I managed to maintain my composure. She was trying to unnerve me by catching me off guard once again, but this time I saw it for what it was. I replied, "So you want me to sign the SA?"
W said, "Yes, before we change the visitation schedule the way you've asked, we need to sign the agreement." (I note that she keeps referring to my time with our S's as "visitation" and not "custody".)
I told W I was not satisfied with the way any of her previous drafts were written. W said, "Why not? I used the perfectly sound online forms to create this document. There's no reason you should object."
I paused, smiling to myself. "Yeah, sure. Why don't you just wait until you see the version I am writing up first? Then we can talk about what's fair or objectionable."
W then said, "Fine. I just didn't think you wanted to waste about $3,000 on retaining lawyers or mediators."
Me: "That all depends on you, doesn't it? Wait till you review my draft before we make that decision. If we can agree to terms among the two of us, then none of that added expense will be necessary."
We left it at that, but as I drove home, I continued to stew and fume over her single-minded, pig-headed determination. Oh, if she really wants an SA, well, she's going to get one -- and it won't be on her terms though. I am overhauling her ridiculously worded crap with its inaccuracies in the accounts being split and so many unfair characterizations of my role in my sons' lives ("visitation", indeed!!!) and putting it in a much more balanced agreement. Her very choice of words would have me giving up joint legal custody, let alone the joint physical custody I demand.
I am feeling a great deal of anger and almost outright hatred for this WAS right now. Ebenezer Scrooge was a lightweight pansy compared to how my W (or her mother especially) can suck the life out of the Christmas Spirit. I am right this moment looking at the framed portrait of our S's and the gift card I had planned to wrap up for W for Christmas -- and I am fighting the angry, vengeful impulse to forget entirely about giving her a gift ever again. She would rather have this SA, so be it. (And as for the MIL and her gift card, I know that her contempt for me, even as unfounded as it is, will not let up -- so I certainly would be wasting my efforts on her.)
But I know what the Lord is telling me. His Son endured the worst that Mankind could throw at Him, and yet He still loved us enough to die for our sins. In His name and in the spirit of this season we celebrate in His name, I must be humble and not vindictive. I must forgive and do the right thing, despite the scorn heaped on me.
She did it again. She destroyed my good mood, and I let her. I wish I was stronger.
