Results matching “family law” from Ye Olde Rad Blog III

Have a special treat for you today. Earlier this year I spent my Saturday mornings (8 weeks worth) up at Chapman University, here in Orange county. There I participated in a co-parenting course called » Kids First (.. for a second time, both court-ordered).

The curriculum is designed to help divorced parents put aside their disappointment & resentment and focus on putting their » kids first. (Hence the name.) Excellent course, taught by seasoned professionals who really care. ($300)

My particular classes were held in the same building where Chapman's Philosophy / Religion department is located.

[ The combatants, uh I mean parents, are assigned to different classrooms, as you might expect, to minimize the number of brawls. ]

Posted on the bulletin board outside the office to the Philosophy department was a large laminated poster that contained a list of the major philosophers throughout history, with a representative quote beside each name.

I enjoyed reading those quotes each week .. so much that on the final day I stayed late to copy them down, along with the name of each philosopher and their corresponding dates. I've been carrying around that piece of paper ever since. (Tho it's getting ratty.)

Today I finally transferred these quotes to 3 web pages (7 entries per page), and included a picture for each philosopher (which the original poster did not have). I also added a brief historical description to complement each entry.

Bouncing on the trampoline with me yesterday, the Bug asked, "Did you have to go back-n-forth when you were a kid?"

"No," I answered, waiting for his mom to come pick him up.

"Did your mom & dad live in the same house?"

"Yeah," I said, almost apologetically. [ Both my parents passed long ago, so he's never met them. ]

There I was, fielding questions I never expected to hear. (He's 4 .. and becoming more aware.) Caught me off-guard. Wasn't sure how to respond.

The Bug has been bouncing on that trampoline (and going back-n-forth) since he first learned to walk .. for most of his young life.

The neighbors, who have 2 boys of their own, generously let us use it "whenever." Consequently, he has become a pretty good bouncer. If I jump just before he does, I've noticed it launches him. ( "I get your energy, dad." )

While bouncing one time he told me, "Your hair looks like a jellyfish."

Later, he started jumping (pretty high) and touching my head, as I tried to avoid him. When he does make contact, I freak out, saying, "Ahhh, the jellyfish stung my face," which makes him laugh .. so hard it makes me start.

Many interesting conversations have occurred on that trampoline. It's one of his favorite things to do (.. up there with catching butterflies). And the neighbors are so nice to him. They say the nicest things .. pay him the sweetest compliments.

Spent a good chunk of the day in court. Not a good sign when you feel like a 'regular' at the courthouse .. when faces there become familiar. Wouldn't wish this mess on anybody.

Learning a lot (unfortunately) about how the system works. (Been at this for years.) While waiting for my case to be heard, I sit there and hear lots of other cases. So I glean things.

One thing has become clear » I could never be a lawyer, or a judge .. at least not in Family law, where things are very emotional .. and where there's far more at stake than just money.

Don't know how they do it. I certainly couldn't.

On that note .. it embarrasses me that we need to have somebody in a black robe make rules for us .. and tell us what to do .. someone who has never even met the Bug. Makes me feel like a big, fat failure. (Yet admittedly, the alternative would be worse.)

You might expect, when children are at stake, that the parents, even when they no longer care for each other, would lay aside their differences .. to focus on what's best for their children. And what's best for the children, you could argue, might include the welfare of the parents (who are caring for the children).

So it's difficult for me to understand why I have been repeatedly attacked. I'm not talking just once or twice, or 3 times, or even 4 or 5 times .. or even 6 or 7 .. but many times. (I've since lost count.)

I'm talking police reports & full-on detectives getting involved. Criminal accusations .. which would involve jail time.

Now even when these accusations are deemed 'unfounded' (as they always are), they still take a toll .. an emotional toll.

Was doing good until sunset on Father's day. Then it got to me and the blues arrived. Used to resist sadness, fight it. Now I just go with it. Roll with it. Flow with it, like a canoe downstream. (Resisting and fighting just wears me out.) Been here enough times that I know the drill. No big deal.

There's a prophetic verse in Isaiah saying Jesus was ".. a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." So it seems okay to be sad, tho not particularly pleasant. I get kinda numb, distant. Feel like crying.

Been reading a book on Zen a friend gave me. Interesting ideas, perspectives. For example, here's a passage I found particularly thought-provoking.

The context is about rejecting the notion that anything that doesn't involve serious effort (and usually pain-n-suffering) is somehow unworthy or worthless. But the concept can be applied in other ways. See here:

Now there do seem to be times when verve & vigor are appropriate. Times when force works with, and not against nature. As Shakespeare said, "There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." [Julius Caesar, Act 4, scene 3]

But when the tide is not at flood, when mere brawn is up against granite, the effort to go against nature seems more stupid than splendid.

At best, one could say with the French general of the Charge of the Light Brigade, "C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre." To call it splendid is to base one's evaluation of man on his animal strength over what is more characteristically human » his intelligence.

This mis-evaluation is perhaps based on the common distrust of intelligence on the part of those who lack it, as something tricky, cunning and weak-spined. But this mis-evaluation also reduces the standards of human character until they are more applicable to pachyderms and rocks than human beings.

For after all, is the final test of character really just in seeing how much suffering you can endure? Your ability to endure depends on how insensitive you are. But being human is about, above all, being sensitive. And this means, the measure of character becomes, among other things, the quality rather than the quantity of your suffering.

Friends have long suggested I contact the newspapers (such as the LA Times) regarding the ongoing (and continuing) false accusations of child abuse being levied against me. (See previous entry.)

There have been more than a dozen accusations filed with various state agencies (including police departments in 3 different cities). All of which have been deemed "unfounded".

In the past I have contacted my Congressman and State Senator. But that seemed to do little good. (They simply forwarded my complaints to the court. Won't be voting for them, you can be sure.) So yesterday I contacted the Press.

Don't know if they will help (or know somebody who can). But I'm desperate and don't know where else to turn. This has been going on for way too long, and it's damaging my son.

Making a false police report (btw) is a crime.

Everybody familiar with the details of the case have two feelings in common:

Woke at midnight .. to a disturbing dream. (Didn't get back to sleep 'til 3:30.) Mighta had something to do with the call I received yesterday .. from a detective at Newport Beach PD. (The numbers of several detectives are programmed into my cell .. all of whom contacted me first.)

Or maybe it was the Restraining Order I got last week (my 3rd) .. that's preventing me from seeing my son. This stuff is emotionally exhausting.

Today's word-of-the-day » unfounded. Why do I feel like I've been here before? Must be having a dang déjà vu (again).

In my years of dealing with the legal system (none of which I would characterize as particularly pleasant), it has been my experience that detectives are the best at getting to the bottom of things.

One of the first things I do when being interviewed by a detective is to volunteer to take a lie-detector (polygraph) test .. if it will help them determine my innocence .. that I have NOT done the horrible things I am accused of (yet again). I volunteer to stay for however they like, and to answer whatever questions they deem appropriate.

My friends are all incensed by a sense of injustice. I am too sad (for our son) to feel angry. He is being dragged before many different people at various facilities, where they're pulling down his pants and photographing his private parts .. before asking him disturbing questions.

Stories like Finding Nemo, where a dad crosses an entire ocean, battling sharks & other monsters, in order to be there for his son .. I know where those stories come from. I know that ocean. (Seems like it never ends.)

The Bug woke extra early this morning. I was kinda hoping he'd sleep-in cuz I stayed up late last night, long after he'd fallen asleep. But no matter, he said, "I wanna watch Harold."

So I put on Harold, fixed him some chocolate milk & Cheerios, and figured it was a good time to grab a quick shower.

Few minutes later he came in and says (excitedly), "It's raining, dad!" .. which is kinda a big thing here is SoCal, where it rains so rarely.

Next thing I know, he returned with an urgency, announcing » "I gotta go poops" .. and proceeds to fill the bathroom with a wonderful aroma .. that can only be fully appreciated by those whose sinuses have been opened by the steamy mist of a hot shower. (The joys of fatherhood.)

Before running out again he says (excitedly), "I'm doing the trench!"

The trench is a ditch we dug yesterday .. some 10-feet long and a shovel's width wide/deep .. that we filled with water to make a » trench. In other words, you could substitute the word 'mud' for trench.

Cool dream last night. Ultra-realistic & vivid. » In a cozy cabin set up in the mountains, I'm cooking a batch of my world-famous puttanesca .. when shortly before sunset I hear this heavenly singing. So I set down my big wooden spoon and go investigate.

Opening the front door, I see (with snow-capped mountains framing the distant backdrop) Pavarotti and another fellow walking up the dirt path. [ No, I don't own any Pavarotti CDs. ]

They're singing (with great passion) the most beautiful songs I've ever heard (Italian opera). Indescribably gorgeous. (Think » sex for your ears.)

Pavarotti has a huge smile on his face. Beaming. He seems like the happiest man in the world. Both men are wearing hiking clothes.

With hand outstretched, Pavarotti calls out, "My friend, forgive the intrusion, but we've been following this wonderful aroma for many kilometers."

I tell him what I'm fixing and Pavarotti responds with a proposition, "If you will kindly fix us each a small plate, we will sing for you *two* songs while you cook, another two while we eat, and two more after dinner." (each time emphasizing the word » two)

While I ponder his offer, Pavarotti saunters up and says in my ear (quite matter-of-factly), "Many think I'm the greatest singer ever, but actually my cousin here is much better. He just couldn't tolerate the music industry and its shenanigans."

Other than how beautiful the singing sounds, the most poignant part of my dream is how happy Pavarotti seems. Downright radiant, he never stops smiling.

Of course, I invite them in. While Pavarotti warms himself by the fire, I ask his cousin, "Is he always this happy?" "Yes," he answers, "I think there's something wrong with him." (which makes me smile)

While surfing the web recently, I've noticed more website authors including a photograph of themselves on their home page (.. places such as here & here) .. aka 'mugshots'.

I forget when I added it, but my mugshot has been posted there for quite some time. It was taken at night (at the Noguchi sculpture garden in Costa Mesa after a yummy Italian dinner), and the flash illuminated only my image (nothing behind). So the background is dark .. which works nicely with the page design (dark background).

I even sampled the exact shade of black contained in the photo's background, so I could blend the photo perfectly into its surrounding box.

Personally, I like to see a photo of the authors whose sites I visit and whose articles I read. It's been said » the eyes are the windows of the soul. In other words, you can get a good idea of a person from a photo.

It actually took more courage than you might think to post that pic there .. so prominently .. for all the world to see .. the online version of stagefright. (Tho I wouldn't be surprised if some printed it out, blew it up, and used it as a dartboard .. or for other things.)

The Bug woke last night, crying, "I want my mommy". Very unusual. That's only happened a handful of times in the last 4 years .. usually when he was nursing or sick. But he's no longer nursing and doesn't seem sick.

I tried for 10 or 15 minutes to see if there was something I could do. But it was clear he really wanted his mom.

I tried calling several times, but there was no answer. So I drove him there and knocked on her bedroom window (midnight).

The thing is .. I see him so little as it is, and really look forward to our time together. Plus I have been criticized (in court) for bringing him back before.

But I don't really care what lawyers think (or say). And it's not about me, anyway. So when I could see he really wanted his mom, there was no question about what to do.

But now .. I am feeling very weird. A slew of confusing feeling are running around inside. Did I pay enough attention to him? Shower him with enough love? The thing is, you can *always* pay more attention to your kids, and you can always show them more love.

Ever noticed, while going about your day (minding your own business), that people seem to be staring at you? Your eyes meet by chance and they quickly look away.

Once or twice, it's no big deal. But when it happens lots of times, it starts to make you wonder .. "Why are people looking at me?"

Been noticing this .. the last few days. First few times, I wrote if off as mere coincidence. Chance glance. But today (especially) I started becoming self-conscious and wondering .. "Do I look strange?"

I admit I've been dealing with some gnarly stuff lately. (Was in court again last week .. the place where dads get slayed.) These things can take a toll. So I've been feeling rather .. 'rugged' lately.

Then (paying more attention) I noticed most of these 'looks' coming from .. ladies. Hmmm. Maybe spring is in the air and all that. But their looks tend to seem more like what you'd expect at a freakshow (a few mouths agape) .. than someone responding to birds or bees.

Got roped into a discussion this weekend .. about the ups-n-downs of dating single-parents .. something with which I have first-hand experience (.. on both sides of that fence).

Divorce is popular here in Southern California. So your chances of meeting an available single-parent are higher here than in other parts of the country.

"Here's a single dad!" called out an acquaintance as I walked by. (.. his table at the coffee shop)

I actually felt somebody grab my arm before I heard his voice. He pulled me over. Hadn't seen him in months. Very athletic fellow. (Always in stellar shape.)

I didn't however, know any of his 3 friends. Two girls & one other guy were seated with him. All seemed very nice, 30-something. None had any kids, nor ever been married. (I remember those days .. sorta.)

Muscles got a chair for me from another table. As I sipped my coffee, they brought me up to speed, sharing some of their experiences dating single parents. I could certainly relate, having had many good experiences of my own. (Kids usually like me, and I certainly enjoy them.)

The biggest turn-off (in my opinion) is when a single mom puts her kid(s) second .. after the relationship with the new guy. Never been able to respect a mom who did that .. no matter how flattering it might seem.

Yet the person who dates a single-parent (as the people seated at this table clearly expressed) don't want to be relegated to an after-thought. They don't want to feel unimportant. So it's not an easy line to tread.

As a single parent, I know that you can't help but feel fondly about people who go out of their way to be nice to your kids. Those who do (go out of their way) get head-of-the-line privileges (so to speak). This is not a conscious decision, mind you. Rather a parent can't help but appreciate (in the fullest sense of the word) those who are nice to our kids (I explained).