Looking Forward

Making a better life for me and my kids

Archive for the tag “baseball”

No baseball

Now that we’re back to a life without so much Asshat, things have been busy! We had a lovely mini-vacation in Florida to visit husband’s family. It was so wonderful to be away from the cold and snow, if only for a few days. The boys had a great time. Neither had flown before, or been able to wake up to views of the sunrise over the ocean, so it was nice to be able to give them those experiences. 

We were smart enough to return home on a Friday in order to have a full weekend to get back into the swing of things before work and school resumed. 

A had decided that he would be participating on the school’s baseball team. He has played every single season since T-ball, so I was thrilled about this. A is very very good at baseball, but says he hates it. Each season since the last year of Farm League he normally has to be coaxed by a coach to join the team. So it was exciting that he was willingly going to be doing this on his own.

This week is Asshat’s week with A, but because my kids and their activities are important to me, I still pick A up after practice or volleyball or weight room even when its not my week. If I don’t, Asshat refuses to work around anyone’s schedule but his own. This way A gets to participate, and I get to see him most every day. 

When I picked A up at 5:15 on Monday he got in the car and was angry. “I’m not doing baseball” he said. I said, “Oh….Why not? Did it not go well?” He said, “No, its not that. Dad called me three times and since I didn’t answer my phone, he texted me and told me that I’d have to find my own way back to his house tonight. And if I couldn’t that he’d pick me up after school tomorrow. I don’t have any of my stuff for tomorrow” 

Silly me, with all my logic said, “Didn’t dad know you had baseball today?” 

“Yes. He did. But apparently he got out of work at 3:50 and since I left my phone in the locker room because I was at BASEBALL PRACTICE he just went home. I told him it started at 3, I don’t know why he would assume it would only go for 50 minutes. Whatever. I’m not going to do baseball. Its too much of a hassle if this is what’s going to happen every time.” 

He was upset. I felt bad. He just insisted that he’d do Sr. League in the summer instead, that would be less of a hassle some how. 

I offered to drive A out to dad’s to drop him off, but he said no. If I drove out there, he said, he’d just get his stuff and come back with me. He said all he was really missing was his history book, and he didn’t think he’d really need it. So, we just went back home. 

Asshat knew A was doing baseball. There was no previous mention about schedules or what Asshat would or would not be able to do. A gave him all the information he needed, and Asshat said, “Ok.” Then, when the time comes for Asshat to follow through and do something for someone else, suddenly, its a giant fucking problem.

How clearly I can see it now. This is a form of abuse. He’s being set up, just to be taught a lesson. It’s like A should have known ahead of time that this would be a problem for dad. Having to WAIT?! for his kid to get out of practice? I don’t think so! A is being sent a very clear message that what he wants is inconvenient. He will have to deal with his father being a manipulative prick because he is following his own ideas and goals. He’s being told that he should just give up. It’ll be easier to just give up than to fight for what you want. Its just baseball. You’d rather have your dad be civil and talk to you and not make you feel like you’re fucking up his day by needing a ride home. Just quit. 

I’ve done this a MILLION times myself with Asshat. It got to the point where whatever I wanted to do, it wasn’t worth the hassle of putting up with his bullshit afterwards. A trashed house, the silent treatment, suddenly no money in the budget for me to take the kids school shopping, whining endlessly about how awful it was for me to be gone…

Hopefully A’s reliance on his father for rides and food and shelter will be over soon enough, as college is quickly approaching for him. I’m sure for A though, its not soon enough. 

I emailed Asshat and told him that A was going to quit baseball because he wasn’t able to wait around after work to pick A up. (Normally Asshat gets out of work at 4:45, so the 20 minute drive to the high school would only mean about 10 minutes of actual waiting.) I asked Asshat to please try to work out some kind of resolution to this with A, as extracurriculars are important. I offered for A to stay over with me any time that he needed, and I would still be willing to pick him up from practices. 

Asshat’s reply? “Fee free to have a conversation with A about you picking him up from practice and driving him to my house every day.” 

Asshat lives 20 minutes away since moving to the old house. He really thinks this is the solution to the problem? Make me do all the work? Yeah. I guess that’s about right for his tiny little brain. Fucker. 

Baseball is over

A made the All Star baseball team. Not a difficult task considering there were only 9 kids to pick from. Either way, he was happy to play, and we were happy to support him.

His first game was on Saturday. He was the starting pitcher. Against the team from the town we used to live in. The team he could have played for if he’d wanted to. The team had gone undefeated in all of regular season. A’s team hadn’t won a single game. 

He fought hard, pitched 98 pitches in 4 innings. He only let up 2 runs. They ended up losing the game, but not because of A’s performance. 

The second game was Sunday. A came home from a friends house on Sunday morning, stripped down and I threw his uniform in the wash. He showered, changed, and I took him to his father’s new apartment. I told him he could either stop over and get his uniform before the 7pm game or I could bring it over and drop it off.

At 3:30 A texted me and asked me to bring his uniform to dad’s. I did. When A came to the car to get it he said, “Dad is coming to this game.” 

I said, “Good! I am too.”

A said, “No. You can’t.”

I said, “Yes, I can. I paid for All Stars, I’ve done everything for you to make baseball a thing you could do. I’m going.”

A shook his head, slammed the car door and went back inside.

I thought about not going. I was worried this would somehow be hard for A if we were both there. The stadium for these games is big. It’s not a crappy field roped off with snow fence. Its an actual stadium.  After much discussion, Husband and I decided we’d go. 

I asked D if he wanted to go. “No.” he said. I tried to sweeten the deal, “Dad’ll be there, you could hang with him.” D’s response was, “I have better things to do with my time.” 

Then we got this email from X.

A is with me today.  I am not okay with you anywhere near me and him while he is with me.  I would appreciate it if you respected that, as this is my time with him and not yours.  At this point I simply cannot trust that you will not cause trouble or friction that would ultimately lead to him feeling bad, sad, or being embarrassed.  If I have to I will seek any sort of available restraining order I need to protect his time with me from being disrupted by you.  FYI – he did not seem overly impressed that you were planning on being in attendance today regardless of whether you paid for the league or not.

Well, if we were on the fence at all about going before, we’re DEFINITELY going now! 

We arrived at 6:40 pm. His car wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. We sat. We waited. The National Anthem played. I was paranoid and worried. Everyone who walked by I was afraid it was him. Around 7:20 pm it became clear he wasn’t going to show up. 

A played second base. One throw to first ended up in the other teams dugout. He was shaking his arm. I’m guessing he didn’t ice it the night before. It was probably jello. 

He got two singles and scored twice. After his last at bat, we left. They lost, 4-7.

We checked our cellphone site. A called his dad at 9:07 when the game ended. Presumably to come get him. 

I’ve since texted A to apologize for suggesting that since I paid for All Stars that I should get to go. I told him that him not wanting me there hurt my feelings. I also told him I was very proud of him. I’m sure I won’t get a response, he is a teenage boy after all. 

The end of the world

Yesterday was the first baseball game I’d ever missed. I was talking to A about it online, he had a terrible sunburn from the previous day at the beach with no sunblock. I said I’d bring him something to drink when I saw him at the game. “I think dad is going to be at this one.” he said. I knew this was coming.
I’d read a an article that morning saying that in high conflict divorces, its ok to not be at the same events for the kids if there is so much tension that it’ll be hard for the kids. I don’t want anything to be harder for them then it already is.
“Would you rather I don’t come to this one?” I was holding back tears, sitting at my desk at work.
“Yeah” he said.
I said ok, that I’d miss seeing him play, I wished him good luck, and said if dad doesn’t stay to please let me know. He said he would.

All I could think about was last summer when X threw A into the middle of refusal to communicate with me. Holding a concert ticket over his head “you’ll find a way to get here if you really wanted to come” and “No, I am NOT going to talk to her!” Then A’s friend saying to me, in front of A “why doesn’t he just call you?” And A immediately snapped “BECAUSE HE HATES HER!” If he feels like he has to choose, the least I can do is to make sure that I’m not making him feel bad about not choosing me. He gets enough of that from his dad.

Turns out the sunburn prevented A from pitching or hitting very well. They lost by 20 points. I still would liked to have been there. But, like I said. I don’t want to make it harder than it already is. Plus, this is the ONE game X would have to take him to. The rest are on my time. We all know X won’t show up for those. The previous ones that were on X’s time, A stayed with me and asked me to take him. I guess one game isn’t the end of the world. But yesterday, it sort of felt like it.

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