a blended life

I’m whole again. 

What I planned: Lay in bed Call my mom  Read Eat frosted mini wheats  Shower Hang out with girls Mourn, sob, grieve the absence of Lucy Throw fits of anger and rage Avoid church as much as possible  Go to bed as early as possible  What really happened: All of that EXCEPT avoid church and throw fits of anger and rage.  In fact, I don’t remember the last time I enjoyed Mother’s Day so much (even with the periods of deep worry, anger, and grief).   Leah wrote me a song. Hannah wrote a poem and made a ceramic plate in art. Church was unexpectedly lovely, even though I really wanted to show up with a chip on my shoulder and plot ways to skip Sunday school and relief society.  (Mother’s Day in a fancy pants ward means gourmet chocolates, a book, brunch in Primary with a cute plant and photo card, cookies and a bath bomb from YW. Plus I love my friends here and everyone is SO supportive and genuinely kind.) Someone encouraged me to apply at her private school...

He was supposed to bring her back today. He texted first thing this morning, saying he couldn’t afford a ticket and shouldn’t my family be chipping in more and no one respects his schedule. But I could skype her as much as I wanted.  This is good, everyone says. He’s hung himself. He’s in contempt of court now, something we’ve been trying to pin on him from the beginning. But he always gets away from it by a hair, a flimsy excuse or fast talking. He kept you from having Mother’s Day with your toddler.  I spend a tremendous amount of time figuring out people’s motives. I get paid to figure out why a kid acts out in school and offer mildly helpful suggestions. Jacob’s motives are typically transparent and selfish. And all about money.  But this is different. I felt a strong assurance that this was a deliberate attempt to sabotage Mother’s Day. And vindictive, oppositional protest against my court battles. He must know he’s lost primary custody.  So now I will wake up w...

Monday, April 30           Sonya emailed. She’s our new attorney, she says, and we should probably talk before the hearing on Thursday. {the entire family wets their pants with anxiety and confusion. New attorney? Maybe someone could have told us?} Tuesday, May 1           Sonya called. You have to move back, she says. You will never be granted a relocation by the court no matter how good your argument is. No matter how compliant he was when you left. You have to move back and put out the fire or you will lose custody forever. Don’t lose custody, Carrie. Focus on custody. Not on which state you live in.  Wednesday, May 2           Mom, me and Lucy meet in Brooklyn. I screwed up and flew us into different airports. I screwed up and got an shared Airbnb— meaning there were other people in the house and I slept in an air mattress with Lucy. No one slept. I screwed up and left my debit card at Chicago O’Hare. En...