We Need Some Time For Us

This has been an unusual spring break. My mother was supposed to come and visit, but after having announcing to her that my boyfriend Excitement and I were having a baby, she reconsidered. She demanded to know if I intended to change my lifestyle - a.k.a., "living in sin" - and I told her I didn’t plan on it any time soon.

That didn’t go over too well. Since that conversation we have talked a few times, but we never mention my relationship and seldom mention the baby. It’s easier to ignore the elephant in the corner.

I had planned on moving to a new apartment. Prefferably one that didn’t need to be condemned, with the rat infestation and the moldy insulation and the sagging ceilings and frequent break-ins and vandalism.

However, with my mother no longer willing to assist me with breaking my lease and moving, that was out of the question. I’ll keep requesting the office send out pest control to my apartment on a weekly basis and keep petitioning the Health Department to come view our living situation and wait out my lease until it ends in November.

My ex-husband, Mr. Perfect, called me three days into my Spring Break. I had custody of our son, Bubba this year and my mid-week custody overlapped with Spring Break, so I didn’t return him to school at the end of the mid-week visit. Perfect was furious, insisting that I had never informed him that I would be taking him for Spring Break. Too bad I’d written the date and time of the conversation in The Journal of All Things Regarding Bubba. I refused to return Bubba to school and he threatened to call his lawyer and have me arrested for kidnaping. I blew him off.

A week later he called me again to inform me that I was within my rights, but that I needed to start paying child support. He knows good and well that I can’t work due to my medical conditions and that I’m going to school full time, but that’s not an acceptable excuse. I promised him that when I received my financial aid, he would be receiving a cut of it. He wasn’t happy with that. I offered to add Bubba to my medicare plan so that Perfect wouldn't have to pay for health insurance. That only angered him more and began to tell me I was a dead-beat parent. I hung up on him. I always feel so good when I get to do that.