NOTE: This post will appeal to those with difficult exes. If you don’t have one of those, or if you’re in a mood for a sunshine-and-puppy-dogs kind of post, this is not for you. If, however, you also have a difficult ex and want to feel like you’re not alone, read on!
“Mom, can you take me to Dad’s house to pick up my computer?” Luca asked after we’d opened the presents on Christmas.
It was a simple, reasonable request. In fairness, Prince should have dropped off the computer at my house, but he is a VIP, so I knew that wouldn’t happen. Luca had behaved well during his first trip post-boarding-school, and I wanted to reward him with his computer.
“Sure,” I said.
Luca called his dad back to set a time. We planned to be there at 2:00.
“Oh, and Mom?” said Luca. “He said to tell you I have to sign some papers for my new school, so you’d just have to wait, like, two minutes.”
Warning bells sounded in my head. Prince is notorious for making “the little people” wait, since his time is valuable, but theirs is not. Having me sign some papers, which could probably wait a few days until Luca went on vacation with his dad, felt like a set-up for a power play.
But I had already promised to take Luca to get his computer. Refusing to wait for the papers to be signed would create drama, which I assiduously try to avoid with Prince.
So I said okay.
Can you hear the foreboding music in the background?
Two Minutes in VIP Time
I sat in my Prius at the curb by Prince’s house. Luca was inside signing papers. I checked my e-mail on my iPhone. I checked the weather. I scrolled through my 932 photos. I checked the time.
I felt the slow boil of anger rise up from my stomach. Two minutes, as I had suspected, had turned into ten. I looked in the back seat to see if I’d brought my iPad. I hadn’t.
Why had I not been proactive? If I’d brought my iPad I could have read an iBook and made this time work for me. Instead, I was waiting at the curb like the chauffeur.
I took some deep breaths and compulsively checked my e-mail to see if new mail had arrived. It hadn’t. I checked the time again.
Two minutes was now fifteen.
I took a deep breath and called the house phone. Prince’s wife Sarah answered.
“Hi, Sarah. Can you find out how much longer it will be for Luca to finish signing the papers?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
I heard some muffled voices in the background, and then she said:
“Two minutes.”
Now, at this point, I should have employed some better options than stewing. I could have gone to Starbucks, or the grocery store, and told her to call me when Luca was finished. In fact, I should have done this right after I dropped Luca off, instead of stewing in a vat of resentment.
But I didn’t. Like Charlie Brown deluding himself that, this time, Lucy will hold the football so he can kick it, I waited another two minutes.
Which became five. So now two minutes had morphed into twenty.
Luca appeared by my car window. I rolled it down. Guess what he said?
“It’ll just be two more minutes.”
I snapped. I said things I shouldn’t have. I think I looked a little like this:
I told him I should not have been kept waiting, that I was going to the grocery store and I would call him when I was done. His face turned red and he started to tremble.
“But, Mom, it’s not my fault!”
Ensuing Drama
I went to the grocery store. Prince called me, demanding to know “what the problem is.” I informed him that I was not The Help and I would pick up Luca when I was finished shopping.
After I’d paid for my few items, I returned to the car and called Luca. I told him I leaving the market, which was around the corner from Prince’s house, and to wait for me at the curb.
Prince texted and said Luca could not wait by the curb and I must text him when I was actually at the curb.
By this time I was at the curb. Luca was outside, in tears. Prince was hovering on the lawn, and while I couldn’t hear him through the car window, I could imagine that he was giving Luca tips on how to deal with his evil mother.
“It wasn’t my fault, Mom! Now everyone at my dad’s is mad!”
I said some other things I shouldn’t have, adolescent things along the line of who really deserved to be mad.
“You’re putting me in the middle, Mom! I don’t want to be in the middle of you guys! Besides, you can’t point out when other people are in their boxes, Mom! You can only talk about your own box!”
The parent-child curriculum at Luca’s boarding school included a book called Leadership and Self-Deception, which explained how conflicts occur: people with long-standing interpersonal grievances approach each other with “hearts at war.” They act in ways that betray their own values — like a good-enough mother having a hissy fit in front of her son — at which point they’ve trapped themselves “in the box.” When you’re in the box, others respond to you from inside their own boxes. If this goes on long enough you have Israel and Palestine.
I pulled over to collect myself. I glanced down at my phone and saw three long texts from Prince and deleted them without reading them.
I clamped my jaw shut, as I was still “in the box.” I silently kicked myself for blowing my stack in front of Luca and Prince, who had succeeded in his plan to piss me off. Luca and I drove home without saying a word.
The Repair
When we got home, Luca went on his computer. I noticed an Our Family Wizard text alert on my phone. This could only be a diatribe from Prince chastising me for my unfit mothering.
And he would be right, to a degree. I had acted badly.
I e-mailed my friend Miranda, who also deals with a VIP ex. We analyzed the situation, determined what I could have done differently. I told her I couldn’t bear to read the OFW, so she volunteered to read it for me.
Having someone else read your ex’s nasty e-mails is an excellent technique for maintaining one’s sanity, and one I would recommend to anyone who has PTSD from years of receiving hostile e-mails.
Miranda e-mailed a few minutes later and told me the OFW was actually about something else. Written in a demeaning tone, yes, but at least not threatening a law suit. She mimicked Prince’s tone and we had a few cyber-chuckles.
After dinner, I apologized to Luca for blowing my stack. I told him I should have gone to the grocery store originally so I wouldn’t have gotten mad waiting.
“I just don’t want to be in the middle anymore, Mom,” he said.
“I don’t blame you,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to be in the middle either. I’ll try not to put you there again, but I won’t be perfect.”
Later that night we sat on the couch watching Safe House, a Denzel Washington action film full of people who are in boxes. Luca laughed at me when I had to leave the room for some of the scary parts. He put his feet in my lap and I covered us up with a blanket. Halfway through the movie, he conked out, his head leaning over the back of the couch.
I nudged him awake and led him upstairs.
We hugged goodnight.
“Love you, Mom,” he said.
“Love you too. Sleep well.”
I watched him shuffle into his bedroom, then walked into my own. It had been a long day. But one that ended with me a little bit smarter.
You should be so proud of the way he handled it! That was a GIFT!
Pauline, I can so relate to your stories. My ex is contentious, too, no matter what the topic is. You’re definitely not alone. Thank you for making me feel more normal when I “go off” on my ex.
Ugh. Our poor babies in the middle. I don’t have much to say other than, been there and done that. And had to apologize afterwards. Hang in there.
That is tough, but I think you handled it well in the end. I know I have had to apologize to my kids for being human. I also hate being in the middle too. And these days my 17 year old keeps putting me in the middle between himself and his dad because he doesn’t want to deal with his dad. I should be nice and tell him to just ignore him and he’ll go away, because he wont want to take the time to keep coming back and actually deal with his son
But I think that at my sons age he finally needs to learn to actually deal with his dad himself.
I agree — all kids in these situations need to learn how to negotiate the Other Parent for themselves.
You’re welcome, Lori Jo! I’m sure I will be making you feel even more normal in the future.
You mean, Luca? Yes, he was the most mature one of the three of us that day.
To me, that “in the middle” business for the kids is the very worst part of divorce.
Absolutely.
From someone who (in the past) knew how to play the Prince part: 1) His VIP treatment of “time” should NEVER be news to you. Always predict this N-based distortion of time and plan appropriately 2) Trust me, he knows this bothers you and uses this “two minute” shtick to get your goat. Remember that and use appropriate preemptive cognitive-aikido block 3) Use so called failure experience to reinforce Luca’s increased sense of competency, ie. “Wow, you won the gold medal of maturity”, “Dude, you learned some useful concepts up there at boarding school!”, etc. 4) Trust the foreboding music in your head. It’s usually not pure paranoia. If they listened to it more in those scary movies you watch, less people would end up dead or hanging on a meat hook, etc. Thanks again Pauline for modeling both success and …..not success. Makes the rest of us feel better.
Thanks, Cliff. Wise words which mean a lot to me coming from an N in recovery!
Been there, done that! I couldn’t help but cry from my past experience and cry for joy when I saw Luca’s response. A friend who used to work for the prosecuting attorney’s office with domestic violence victims gave me the best advice “Do not engage!” Now, my partner reads my ex’s lengthy e-mails or texts to me, decodes them and we laugh. But the wonderful thing about this two minute experience is that Luca successfully disengaged. He successfully handled it! So, in the future when he drives over to his Dad’s house and his Dad asks him to wait for two minutes, (because his Dad will do the same thing to him) and Luca has other more important things to do, Luca will do the right thing for Luca. How terrific is that! A New Year’s blessing for you. Your son has it figured out.
Hello,
I am so happy to have found your blog. I am in the process of a divorce myself. I found myself to relate to this story as my soon to be ex is very much a VIP except his is more with emotions, he is quick to react with out any thinking and thinks that no matter what just cause he is sad or having a bad day he has a right to ask anything of me. I have to say I wish I had found your blog a lot sooner as the bit of information on having a friend read the extreme amounts of emails/txts that come along with a divorce would have been invaluable to me. Thank you so much for the info. I just went to court last Thursday for some motions I had filed and one of them was for absolutely no contact at all. As every time my phone chimed with a new email or txt msg it was like there was a double edge knife in my torso on a pulley system fighting to get out. A week later even though my motions were granted im still slightly fighting back that feeling every time my phone goes off. Im happy your story for this night had a good ending with honest admissions of your faults and apologizes made to your son. It is always a true character trait of good people who can admit there faults and make efforts to try and fix them. Kudos to you.
~Andrea
http://got2bewise.blogspot.com/
You did a great job. Love the ‘box’ reference. It would have taken Jesus to have remained calm in that power play with your VIP. But Luca seems to be doing great.
HA! Yes, and sometimes I’m not sure even Jesus would have pulled it off.
Hi Andrea – sorry to hear you’re going through the same kind of nuttiness. Good luck with it all and hope you have a buddy to read your e-mails for you. It helps just to have a hand-holder, really dilutes the stess level.
I keep wondering why I relate to your blog so readily, when I don’t have a contentious ex. AHA!!! Your using the Charlie Brown Football allegory finally made me realize: I have an every-bit-as-contentious relationship… with my only sibling, my older sister! I have been using the Charlie Brown Football allegory for DECADES! And try divorcing a sibling! They don’t HAVE that!
…and also, Missy, you did GREAT. I bet next time you do even better. Here’s the thing: Whenever I try to change the way I react to my manipulator (manipulatrix?), it becomes a manner of shaving down the hang time between her doing something to manipulate me and my figuring out that that’s what she’s up to. Sometimes I beat my personal best, and sometimes I still suck. Not that you sucked. You did great!
I so appreciated the warning at the top. And, I felt your anger and resentment. And it was justified. What sucks is that the Prince has no idea the damage he is doing. But they often don’t know and don’t care. I thought my ex and I had “repaired” our relationship, but then he got mad about something the kids did with me and he took it out on them but telling my daughter she could not go to the camp that she chose to go to because it was a camp that she wanted to go to that I had found. Typical. All I could do was tell her I’m sorry and that life goes on. And, it does. I just can’t wait for the comeuppance….because when that comes I hope to be there with a big sign saying…”It’s about damn time!”
I actually have a wonderful ex, but I wanted to read your post because I wanted to be a witness for you and to listen. You write so beautifully and with so much tension about these uncomfortable things. I admire your honesty and grace in depicting these conflicts and know that these traits have been so tested, so hard won. Your son will be a better human, a better man for having a mother such as you.
We keep learning this lesson, don’t we? At least I know I do. The ‘waiting’ and ‘Prince time’ thing is a real button pusher. I’ve been there so many times too. I can relate. You handled it as well as can be expected. Great for you to share this for all of us to sit here and nod our heads.
I LOVE that you have a friend to read Prince’s correspondence, someone to help buffer that initial shock and interpretation/misinterpretation. That is just beautiful–not to mention brilliant!
Don’t beat yourself up too much, it is so hard to stay one step ahead of the Princes. But guess what? Luca and Frannie will grow up, see Prince for who he is, and you won’t have to mediate any more! WooHoo!! Two of my three are at that stage now, and the third has never been one to be bought, bribed, manipulated, or cajoled into doing something he doesn’t want to do. (the good and bad side of it! lol)
You are doing an amazing job…as my therapist once said to me, “Keep doing what you’re doing. It’ll pay off.”
Happy New Year, Pauline!
Thanks, Annah.
Oh boy, I can so relate! You handle way better than I do. I hope to get to your level someday soon.
Your boy is very lucky! Having a mother who is willing to admit her faults and apologize is invaluable.
Thanks Pauline, I spoke about it with a good friend So I do now If there is another email. But fingers crossed he keeps adhering to the no contact agreement we made in court….going strong for 2 weeks now and it is great! Happy New Years!
Thank you for this awesome post. I have waited 10 years to find someone else who can relate to the experience of parallel parenting with a VIP ex after a highly conflictual litigated divorce. The experience is just radically different from any of my friends who are co-parenting with civilized, mentally healthy ex’s who have moved on and are now friends as parents to their children and are there for each other as resources and back each other up with the kids. I totally relate to your examples in this post, my VIP ex has never driven the girls to retrieve forgotten items at my house, it is always my job to run it over, return the movies/library books, run things to school, pick up female supplies when the girls are there and he refuses to buy them, as this inheritance baby tells the children, “I can’t afford that this week.” I have often referred to myself as the Help. In the beginning, I used to mind screw myself silly trying to figure out how to make it better, avoid his strong reaction, figure out the “right” response or action. Thankfully, the people pleaser in me has died a fiery death in these last 10 years post divorce (and 20+ yrs with him in my life). After years of calling my dad sobbing, talking it out, spinning the situations around, asking for direction, and years of my dad responding calmly with, “You keep trying to figure him out. You aren’t going to be able to figure him out because he is doing x,y,z on purpose, you didn’t do anything wrong, you couldn’t do anything any different to avoid the reaction. What you do will ALWAYS be wrong, because he needs you to be wrong to prove his story. Honey, a leopard DOESN’T CHANGE HIS SPOTS.” When I would stop sobbing and breathe for a minute, he would make me repeat (for humor’s sake) “you can’t change stupid.”
I am so thankful to read your posts and feel much less alone, crazy, and isolated. Thank you for sharing your truth, and for all the beautiful ladies here who have done the same! Walk on, ladies!
Hi Kim: two people responded to you, and I hope you read their comments. You’re not alone.
This is great … So what I have been needing today! Thank you! I have been divorced 8 years … and I have happily moved on and found the love of my life and will be re-married later this year. But my children have been brainwashed into believing I am incompetent and a second class citizen. I am still mom … But I’m second or rather third to their dad and his wife … The other woman who stole my life away … Or rather he handed it to her on a silver platter. I have even been introduced as the “biological parent” by that woman. My daughters are 15 and 18. My 18 year old is getting ready to graduate HS and I think she gets it … But my15 year old doesnt follow the visitation any more … She’s not happy here. I try so hard to reach out to her but when she pushes me away I am emotional and she tells me I’m irrational. People say to just let her go … But I can’t … I just can’t. I know I’m good enough and I could co-parent … If he could be reasonable and just support me and my role as mom. But then again … That’s one of many reasons we divorced.