Friday. The smalls are supposed to go to superdads at some point this weekend.
Of course he will decide when, the same as he has decided that 24hours once a fortnight – absolutely no more – is enough to keep a relationship going with your kids.
The same way he has decided that dropping the two older boys who see him as their dad is a good idea. The same way he will say it’s their fault for not getting in touch with him, or the same way it’s their fault he didn’t get them anything for their birthdays or for Christmas. Because it’s never his fault. Of course it isn’t.
So. Back to it. His mum asks me yesterday had I spoken to him. Of course not. She will text me and let me know. I’ve heard nothing by this morning, I have to message and ask her if she has.
So. He says he will have the 4 smalls from 3pm Saturday until 3pm Sunday, is that okay?
Well, no, it’s not. It’s a bit bloody silly actually. 3 o’clock on a Saturday afternoon? Means we can’t do anything all day, and the kids will have a miserable time, packing their stuff and arguing because 1) they never want to go until they’re almost there and 2) I will insist on them cleaning their rooms beforehand.
So, from 3pm Saturday until 3pm Sunday. Which is a great time if you don’t want to give them dinner, I suppose. However. They won’t have eaten since their breakfast (they never do when they’re there) and it’s a shit time of day all round really. So I’ve left it for now.
Not really. Those times are a bit silly. 3pm Saturday makes for a bad day for them.
Polite, but to the point. Those are silly times and I won’t have it. I find it utterly ridiculous that in this day and age a grown man won’t stand up to see his kids. I’m sure at his end it’s all very “poor me” and “I’m so hard done to” but really. How silly.
When he was having them every week there was always an excuse. His brother was there, or the keys had been left in a pub, or there was an argument, or he couldn’t afford to feed the kids so I had to lend him money or buy him food – he never went without cigarettes though. And he never went without seeing his girlfriend. Because- and I’m not bitter although that’s how it sounds- he only wants to know his kids when he hasn’t got a girlfriend. You can literally time it. When he’s alone he wants to see them. When he’s loved up, nope. They’re last on his list of important things.
That’s not to mention the verbal abuse. I’ve cut him off now so he can’t do it anymore. I don’t have to listen to it. I refuse to deal with him. But now he’s sneaky, and he whispers poison in the kids ears, about how life would be better with him, how mummy has to take pills to make her happy but he doesn’t, about how mummy is never happy now, about how the children should be free to do what they want, say what they want, act how they want. About how if they lived with him they would be much happier.
Except. In the 10 years we were together. He never did one single school run. He never got the children up in the morning for school, he never picked them up, he never helped them out, he never washed up, did the laundry, none of it. He never got up in the night to them, cleaned baby bottles, fed baby in the night. I could literally count it on one hand, the amount of times he did something that not a single other person would think was anything more than normal parenting. Nothing. So how could they live with him? He’s never done any of this parenting stuff before.
And 3pm? That’s because he’s too lazy to get his arse out of bed in the morning. His children aren’t important enough for him to lose a couple of hours sleep over.