Results tagged “custody” from Ye Olde Rad Blog III

Imagine a man you've never met, walks up and proceeds to (methodically) mount a bazooka on a tripod right in front of you, and then carefully aims the crosshairs at your heart before squeezing the trigger ..

.. and you have an idea of how I feel. Defeated, broken. Hollow. Dazed & confused (literally). Not good. It's not the end of the world. (Only feels like it.)

I watched a little of All the King's Men last night, before bed. One scene stood out (as if it were speaking to me), where Sean Penn is devastated by an injustice, while trying to do the right thing, and a man asks him, "What are you gonna do?"

And he answers (unsteadily, as if he's trying to talk himself into it), "I'm gonna keep the faith." Today I know that unsteady feeling.

There is definitely a temptation to "give up" .. to stop caring (because it hurts too much & all hope seems lost). But I don't think I am capable of that.

I was spit on today (08-08-08). Never been spit on before .. certainly not in my face, nor with such venom (think » cobra). Surprised me more than anything.

Someone would have to be pritty-mad to (even want to) spit in your face. Yes, I took a shower .. more however, to wash off the 'intangibles' than any salivary organics.

The anger was palpable. (Literally.) And for no stated reason. Just a general-purpose spray-down .. at high-velocity. Tho I might've sensed a hint of frustration.

I was holding the Bug at the time. My biggest concern is he might pick up on these uh, 'negative' emotions. (Hard not to.)

Othewise, spitting is so .. low-class. Juvenile. Ill-bred. What kind of person spits on someone? (After kindergarten.)

Hello August. Feeling pressure. Next month » D-day. I'm normally good at handling stress, but this has been relentless .. like white-water rafting for weeks, or months. Actually, it's been years (plural). And here come the rapids.

Pressure. Tension. Stress. (Long-term)

If you listen carefully, you can hear things starting to crack. Tension. Makes life interesting.

Told the Dog yesterday, "I just want to be bored for one day. One day. Is that too much to ask?"

The dust won't settle 'til next month, but today was the first time I actually felt an air of victory .. like uh, that ol' dog ain't gonna bark no mo'. The writing is on the wall. (Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting.)

This ain't to say I've emerged unscathed, or without scar. No. But we do what we must. Right? And victory here is defined narrowly as » not losing.

The Bug's Digital Milestone.dev

In related news .. I'm pleased to report a major developmental milestone » the Bug has mastered both point-n-click, and the click-n-drag.

Kid's software program at the library lets him click on a variety of colors (using paint-bucket palate-tool) and apply color to a picture by clicking on things such as » clouds (white), sun (yellow), trees (green), and sky (blue).

With click-n-drag, he can create rectangles or ovals, depending on the tool selected. To the ordinary observer these skills might seem trivial, but (as a certified geek) I recognized the development as a significant milestone in the digital age.

Took the Bug back to his mom this morning. He woke with a fever (102). No runny nose, no sneezing, no cough. Just a fever. Normally I'd keep him until later this afternoon.

The weird thing is .. we spent the day in court yesterday (uh, was not pretty) .. where I am doing everything I can to stay in his life.

I resist parenting stereotypes, but I truly believe moms are better at caring for sick children.

I've heard friends say things like, "The only time I ever felt love from my mother was when I was sick." (Sad, no?)

Dads, I feel, are better at things like .. taking kids to Disneyland, fishing, rock-climbing, fireworks, and bouncing on trampolines (fun stuff). So I am feeling conflicted. Plus, I always hate to see him sick.