To Unsupervised Visits... No!

Visitation like this went on for a year and a half.  I continued to have no way of having a way of knowing whether DP was there or not.  It was a horrible feeling.  The “relationship” between JH and me went downhill as I lost more and more respect for her. 

I showed up on time, I always packed food and asked that they used that.  They never did.

Ellie didn’t want to go and as she got older was able to ask why? I didn’t have an answer.  But, I was cautious to never put him down.  It was in our signed agreement with the Judge.  Never to speak ill of the other person and I took it to heart.  I didn’t know what to tell her for why.  I just told her that we had to.  I explained that it was at least quick and that before long we would be together again. 

She could explain what they did now. Which was generally, nothing.  He would cook.  Not necessarily for her.  But, just cook.  And JH would play with her. 

Every time we went, there were tears.  There was a struggle. She did not want JH to touch her, she wanted to stay with me.  Again, I was forced to say, “go”.  It was what the law had said.  She asked me to watch as she walked up the stairs and I watched every time until she was indoors safely.   Sometimes I would just move to another place to see who was coming and going.  Sometimes I would just go up the street and do a little grocery shopping, sometimes I would just drive home, lie under the covers and cry until it was time to get her. 

It never got easier. 

I kept track of everything. 

Sadly, my lawyer saw no reason to go back.  The reality was that the Judge was clearly on DP’s side. He was not going to favor me for anything.

At this point, it was easier to not shake the boat than to do anything.  DP was seeing her very rarely and even though it was hard, he was canceling more than visits were actually happening.  So, I felt we were  in a relatively good position, all things considered.  I could only explain so much to Ellie and she would, I hope, one day understand it all, well, as much as I did.

When Ellie turned 3 and a half the visits were to change from supervised to unsupervised. 

DP, who had never been alone with Ellie now would get her every other weekend Saturday 9am- Sunday 5pm.  And every other Wednesday 5:30-8. 

This was terrifying to me.

Ellie at this point was a very vocal child.  She was very vocal about her interest, or lack thereof, in going to see her dad. 

We met at a mutual place.  The Fred Meyers on Beaverton Hillsdale Hwy.  It was because of the restraining order I had against him.  I will tell you this.  If it was going to be my time to have my daughter on my own for the first time, I would have been there with bells and whistles as early as possible.  Not him.  He overslept.  I got a text the first day he was to have her at 9:06 and he said, “alarm didn’t go off, I’m on my way.”

Really?

Oh, the ghost of Christmas Future…

There was a piece in our plan that said we had to wait 15 minutes for the person to arrive and that would not be considered late. Why there was even a starting time, is beyond me, then.  This comes into play in a pretty major way later on.  Our time to start out was 9am Saturday morning and he kept her to Sunday at 5pm.  

Which also meant he could show up at 5:15 and not get that “counted against him” so to speak. 

I grew up that if you are there on time, you are late.  My family was always the first to get there, wherever THERE was.  My father instilled promptness in me and I intend to instill it in my daughter.  I think it is a great attribute to have.  Getting a screaming 3 year old out the door, with a mother who is also in tears, but trying desperately to hide it is not easy in the mornings, but I will tell you I can count on 1 finger the times we were late. 

We would walk in, sit on a bench and I would try to “entertain” Ms Ellie while we waited.  She would ask, is it time to go? Can we go? Can we go now? Because she knew at 9:15, I was walking out the door and not looking back.  The employees of Fred Meyer got to know us very well.  I spent a large portion of the next few years on that bench.  The new schedule for visits were every other weekend Saturday 9-Sunday at 5.  And every other Wednesday 5:30-8.  Or in DP world 5:45-8:15.  Ellie is an early sleeper and these nights were tough as she goes to bed, yes still, at 7pm.  So, she was beyond consolable by the time I got her. 

I would say the new schedule was one of those times I said to myself “it can’t get much worse than this.” Just that feeling of not knowing what he was doing.  The feeling of her being so helpless.  The sheer terror as she got ready to go and didn’t want to go.  I knew in my gut something was wrong.  But, how do you explain a gut feeling from a frightened mom to anyone? How do you take what you are feeling and make anyone of authority listen to you? Believe me… you don’t.  I tried. 

The first time he finally showed up after “the alarm” incident, we were walking out the door at 9:15. 

There he was.   Sunglasses on.  No apologies.  DP never apologized for being late.  It drove me crazy.  He didn’t have a car seat, so, I had to give him mine. 

Right there in the middle of the Fred Meyer parking lot, Ellie had a breakdown.  She did not want to go. She was screaming and had a hold on me I will never forget, but was about to get used to.  She would put both her arms and her legs around me and I could have let go with my arms and she would have still been attached.  We were in public and I am sure that people wondered what we were doing to this child.  DP stood there doing nothing as I was trying to console her.  It would have helped if he said something like: “it will be okay, we will have fun” or “let’s do ____ today”  or, “I know this is hard, but we are going to have a great day”… but the fact that he was literally silent and looking away and not at her, was so unhelpful.  Finally I told him that he was going to have to literally peel her off of me and take her or it wasn’t going to happen. 

Well, that method or idea went over like a lead balloon. The kid was not going to come off.  We struggled for a good 30 minutes in the parking lot and finally got Ellie into her car.  I pleaded with him to call me if it continued and they were off.  And my heart was broken. 

Things only got worse.  

A New Lawyer. Perry Mason, He Was Not

My new lawyer was named LK.  I decided to hire a new lawyer because I had a gut feeling that this would not be a quick “Law and Order” one-episode event.  We were in this for the long-haul.  (And, 8 years later, that gut feeling proved true). 

LK is known around the community for being in the business for a long time.  He knows the law.  I wouldn’t call him super aggressive.  He has been around a long time, to put it nicely.  To put it another way… he is more mature, shall we say. 

He was referred to me by my uncle when my uncle heard what was happening.  I liked him, we clicked.  He was short, to the point and that meshed with me.  Let’s go in, get things done and get out. 

He also had a lot of history with Judge R. 

This was the meeting where we would settle on child support as well as try to figure out why DP wasn’t complying with the ordered Parenting Time rules. 

In Oregon, and perhaps other states, the odd thing about child support is that it is in no way tied to visitation.  In other words, if the father does not pay Child Support, he still has full rights to see his children.  This to me is asinine.  There should be some rule that ties the two together.  Why on Earth are they separate? To further chap my hide with the rules of Child Support, if someone isn’t working, that person would get to pay the least amount of child support possible.  Even if they are a capable human being who could go and get a job.  Let’s continue on what really is ridiculous with Child Support… The notion of being a “dead-beat dad” really just means that the father doesn’t pay Child Support.  But, does it mean that he will go to jail? Not in Oregon.   Now, there could be some punishment.  If, for instance, a taillight is out on his car, and he is pulled over and that officer does a check to see if said person owes Child Support and they are more than $5,000 in arrears, he could lose his license.  That’s it.  BUT, he would never be “hunted down” and pulled over specifically because he owes money.  And, really, just losing a license?

At the end of filling out the paperwork, DP would owe me $300 a month.  The lowest amount possible.  So far I have seen $84.  Not a month.  Not a year.  Total.  $84.    

****

Court with my new lawyer LK was an education.  I was taught to always dress nicely (not that I wasn’t already.) How to act in front of Judge R.  How to react to DP.  I believe these things I already knew, but he knew the law and had been in it so long.  He took no funny business.  It was game faces on once you entered the court house and until you left.  You were practiced with your testimony and if you had to get your shit together, you did it quickly. 

One of the most frustrating things was that DP was representing himself.  Not a very educated man, and now messed up on drugs, his questions to me made no sense.  They got me flustered easily and staying calm and collected was nearly impossible.  I looked to the Judge often to “save” me from his babble or to my lawyer to try to get him to jump in.  Often before that, though I would get frustrated and say something like, “you are making no sense.” Or, “you just asked that” and then I would get the look of shame from LK. 

Court that day was about Ellie’s continued supervised visits with DP.  The fact that he often left early to go to work came up.  The fact that there were often several people in the apartment came up.  The fact that times were changed and canceled came up.  And no one seemed to bat an eye. 

Was he getting to know his daughter? In the Judge’s eye… yes. 

And so, they would continue. 

Visits with a Stranger

I had only met JH once before.  It was in a grocery store and it was very brief.  DP and I had been there together and by chance we had run into her.  It was very uncomfortable because she wasn’t someone he talked about often and when he did, she was not what I had pictured in my mind. 

I knew very little about her other than she and DP had dated several years, after that she had met her current husband and now apparently they lived close to Ellie and me. 

The timing of the “supervised visitations” was to be set up between us (JH and me).  It would be 2 hours on Saturday morning and 2 hours on Wednesday evening.  I was beside myself with fear.  I had, of course, left Ellie with the daycare provider and my family.  But this was different.  And though 4 hours a week doesn’t sound like a lot of time, 360 minutes of my baby being with people she doesn’t have a clue who they are, someone with an acknowledged drug and alcohol issue who had abandoned the very same person just months before was excruciatingly terrifying. 

The fact that I, in all honesty, had no idea what was happening in that house drove me batty.  The fact that I honestly didn’t even know if DP was there or not kept me up at nights.  The fact that my daughter hated going every single time and at the young age of just under 1 would make gag herself until she threw up made me highly aware that a rocky road was in front of us and I had better be ready to fight for the both of us. 

I remember the first time of dropping her off at JH’s house so vividly.  Packing her up, so little, no idea what was going on.  Singing on the short drive over, trying to keep from crying.  As we pulled up, JH would come down and I would hand Ellie to her.  She would then disappear with Ellie.  Ellie was not happy about it.  Screaming, crying, reaching for me.  I was trying to reassure her that it would be okay and then I couldn’t hold the tears in any longer.  At that point, JH reached out to put her hand on my shoulder and I thought, “how could you?”

My question to her, her mom, her husband has been and will always be, how can they continue to support this man? It flat out boggles my mind.  I will never understand it and I hope to one day get the chance to ask. 

I flinched as she touched me.  “No.” I remember saying.

I handed Ellie to her and said, you are just going to have to take her.  Call me if she doesn’t calm down. 

I could hear her screaming as they walked up the steps.  In my rear view mirror, I saw Ellie looking for me, I saw them enter the apartment and still heard the screams and I couldn’t drive.  I sat in the parking lot for a good 20 minutes as I composed myself and then I drove away. 

Those first few visits that followed were some of the longest “two-hour” chunks of time in my life.  Ellie never went without a fight.  Few words were spoken between JH and me.  He had 4 visits and decided to go to Florida to visit his family.  Family he hadn’t seen in decades.  He would be flying stand-by and had no idea what date he would return; so, I felt lucky to have more time with Ellie.  I also felt that it was a stupid decision as she would never get used to this man, who was her dad. 

He didn’t get back until after the New Year.  We had to start from scratch with the visits and Ellie not feeling comfortable.  Ellie’s birthday is January 11.  I remember there was a visit around that day and the outside of the apartment had balloons on it.  I thought it was a kind gesture.  But, something in me knew something was off.  I pulled to the side of the complex to just take a look.  It wasn’t just JH, DP and Ellie.  There were at least a dozen people who entered the apartment that Saturday morning.  I was filled with rage.  My thing was this.  Here was a man who wanted to get to know his daughter better.  He had been given 4 hours a week to do that.  As the state and the Judge said, those hours were for him.  He should, in my belief and the state’s be using them to get to know her.  To play with her.  To dote on her.  Not to host a party. 

I came back to get Ellie at the regular time that day.  The decorations on the door were down.  I asked JH what they had done that day.  “Nothing special” was her response.  As my head fumed and my heart raced, I drove off, now knowing what I had already suspected, even the person who was doing the supervised visits couldn’t be trusted.

I contacted my new lawyer the following day and let him know the progress of things.  His suggestion was to start keeping a diary of what I saw, how often thing got changed and what was happening at the visits.  We would put in a motion to go back to court and get child support and also try to explain exactly what should be happening at the visits as well as what was happening. 

Through emails, Saturday visits became Sunday visits because JH had a dentist appointment or a meeting.  Wednesday nights became Thursday nights because she had to work late.  I was juggling several balls and could keep nothing consistent. 

I became somewhat of a Private Detective, in my own right. I’d drive away after dropping Ellie off and then park on a side street and try to see what was happening.  It was fine, there wasn’t much I would be accomplishing during the 2 hours away anyway.  Driving to my house, thinking about Ellie, pacing, driving back to get her.  At least now I was conserving fuel. 

JH’s mom came nearly every time.  She’d leave before I came back to pick Ellie up.  I don’t know what her deal is/was with Ellie nor do I have yet to understand the whole relationship with her and DP.

At one point I got so frustrated with it all that I faced JH. 

“JH, I have it on camera.” I told her. 

“What?” she asked?

“The comings and goings of people.” I said. “How many times does DP leave early?”

“Everyday” she said.  Looking me straight in the eyes. 

As I let that statement sink in, because it was actually brand new news to me, I didn’t have anything on camera, I was so bloody irate.  Who was Ellie having visitations with? And for what? JH, her husband and her mom? I grabbed Ellie out of her hands, drove a few feet away, so she could not see me and had a full out melt down.  Why was this happening?

Court date was scheduled for the following week to try to get child support and hopefully put and end to this insanity.

Supervised Visitations

Court is a surreal thing.  You are there, either with representation, or without.  1 or 2 people sitting on either side of the room; and the Judge in front.  “The Bar” separates those people and the rest who are there for either the case in front of the Judge at that time or another that might be being heard after.  There are generally 2 other people in front of the bar; the person keeping the notes, and another -  an assistant to the Judge. 

All of this continues day in and day out.  The idea that one man or one lady… the Judge here, has the final ruling on what happens is what baffles me.  Sure, you want to believe in our system, you want to hope that this Judge is going to know all that has taken place and have the person’s best interest at heart that they should (the child in family court), but do they? Do they spend enough time with each case to understand the idiosyncrasies of each case, or is it that each case is somewhat like a cookie cutter case and while some of the insides change just a little bit, the Judge wants the outside to look the same and will do whatever it is to make that happen?

I am a true believer that our system, the one we have in this glorious, rich, beautiful country of ours, is broken.  And it hurts those that it should protect, the children.

DP sat on the stand, sworn in and admitted to leaving.  He admitted to using cocaine, he admitted to using meth, marijuana and alcohol.  And then he said, that he was clean now.  He further explained that he came back because he wanted to have a life with his child and he was a different man then most.  Most men, especially black men, he went on, would just stay away, but, he, oh, he, wanted to be in his child’s life and was ready to do so. 

While I heard these words I knew we would be okay.  Surely, after admitting that he was a drug user, he would have to go through some kind of testing or counseling before anything else happened.  Ellie would certainly be safe from this man, a mystery man at this point in her life. 

My lawyer went on to question him.  She asked about the times he was in the psychiatric ward.  She asked if he took the medicine prescribed to him.  Or course he didn’t, I thought, and I was thrilled as I was sitting taller in my seat.  We are going to walk out of here and this is going to OVER.

When it came my time for questions, I was able to talk about the time that DP left.  The time that he was on all 4’s over me.  How scared I had become, the restraining order I had just gotten.  I talked about living at my aunts, I talked about my fear of him and how I felt that he added nothing to Ellie’s life as he was right now, but perhaps if he got help, we could revisit it later. 

As I sat down, the judge already had his ruling, he explained that he thought DP was right, not many men would come back.  It was good that he wanted to be involved and this was the first step.  He would have supervised visitation.

As the words came out of the Judge’s mouth, I saw my small daughter in my eyes and my heart fell to the floor.  I was in shock.  Had he not heard that he was going to make our lives’ a living hell? Had he not heard that he was a drug user? And who was he to believe he had stopped? Was he looking at the same man that I was?

Before I could make sense of anything, as the tears were rolling down my face the Judge said, that we would have to pick a supervisor.  I had always known of supervised visitations to be done by the state and for the parent doing the visiting to have to pay for them.  My lawyer suggested just that and the Judge, again, in my opinion, pro-DP, said that since “dad” didn’t have any money and didn’t have a job there would be no way for him to pay. So, let’s be fair and figure out another way. 

I’m sorry what?

Huh?

Did I just hear all that correctly?

So, because he is a worthless bastard who is living off the state, let’s give him pity and have WHO supervise my precious daughter and him???

As the Judge looked at me and said, “Mom, do you know anyone who would be willing to do the supervising?” I nearly became unglued.  Well, I did come unglued.  I started to explain how wrong I thought this all was and that nothing here seemed right and that he should be tested for drugs and he should be in counseling and that someone for the state should supervise.  It fell on deaf ears. 

The Judge repeated, “mom, any suggestions?”

I didn’t have any.  No one I knew would want to be around him.  I was stunned.  It was all moving so fast.  I shook my head no. 

“Dad, any suggestions?”

“Yes.”

Again, my mouth fell to the floor.  What on Earth was this man going to suggest?

“I’d like to suggest JH.”

Well, JH happens to be his ex-girlfriend.  Was he serious? As I said before, she was there.  The judge asked if she was willing to do it.  Of course she was.  Then he turned to me:

“Mom, and objections?”

“Yes, too many to know where to start.”

“Well,” said the Judge, “if you don’t have another person, this is who we are going to go with.  I will give you 3 minutes”

In the end, I had no one else to go with.  It would end up being JH, DP’s ex-girlfriend.  She and her husband lived in an apartment not far from Ellie and me.  Visitations would be once on every weekend for 2 hours and once during the week for 2 hours.  I would take Ellie there, meet JH in the parking lot and pick her up after.  The only people who were supposed to be in the apartment were DP, JH and Ellie.  But, who is to know if that is so or not.  Just one month shy of her 1 year birthday, I was taking Ellie to a woman she didn’t know, in a parking lot, handing her over, for her to take up to a man that she didn’t know.   And so, supervised-visitations began. 

60 Minutes is Not Nearly Enough

I would bet you have all seen Law and Order or maybe even Perry Mason, back in the day.  Not only do they find the person who did it, put them through the trial, hand them a verdict… but it is all done in 60 minutes and that is including commercials. 

I would like to go on record as saying that is bullshit. 

I had the guy.  I had step one checked off.  It should have been easy.  We now enter the phase of court.  And it is long and grueling.

In Washington County in Oregon State in family court, you are given one Judge and that Judge stays with you through your entire, shall we say, career, in the courts.  Our Judge comes with the following:

“Who do you have?” “I have Judge R.” “Ooooohhhh…”

The “Ooooohhhh”  is not a happy sound. It is a sound of pity.  He has a reputation of being sporadic.  He is very pro-both parents being involved no matter what the case is.  (as is Oregon in general – I have heard possible second only to one other state).  He has a background I have learned (yes, I have done my research) that when he was younger his parents divorced and his younger brother committed suicide.  In the suicide note was written that he did so in part because of his parent’s splitting up.  Through the years of getting to know him, I have learned that he will have his mind made up prior to the people involved in the case even entering the building.  Meaning, testimony doesn’t matter.  He comes with, in my humble opinion, a lot of baggage and I wonder at least weekly where we would be had we gotten another Judge. 

But, he was and is ours. 

Before meeting him, I’d have to get a lawyer.  I have had 3 now.  Changed for different reasons along the way.  Keep in mind while reading this, I am currently 8 years into this battle.  It just got more serious as the things DP did got more serious. 

So, we will start at the beginning. 

I hired a lawyer named CV (as you have seen no names just yet, hoping after this is settled and the final gavel is hit I can use them).  She was just out of law school, affordable and I figured I wouldn’t need much; just a plan to get him out of my life.  She actually only appeared in trial with me once; but she did help with a couple of other great things.

******

It was October 14.  I remember because it was his birthday.  It had been about 4 days since he and his sister had come by.  I had gotten several blank text messages from which I assumed was his new number.  A few calls with no messages.  I was trying to be okay with life; but knew hell was about to come. 

There was a knock on the door and I immediately knew it was him.  Ellie and I live in a house where there is a gigantic picture window on the second story.  We can see down below and I saw no car.  Ellie, who was walking already started off and I was chasing her, she was oblivious to the danger lurking outside our house.  The knocking persisted, only louder.  I sat Ellie in the kitchen on the floor and tried to quiet her.  I grabbed the phone ready to call 911.  Now came the yelling. 

“I just want to talk to you; I know you are in there.”  Knock, knock, knock. 

The knocking kept going.

I took Ellie to her room. 

I had the phone in my hand and I answered the door, foot at the base as to only be able to open it a little bit (oh, how much I have learned … don’t answer the door, people).  The door came swinging open, knocking me over and he walked past me to Ellie’s room. 

In a panic I rushed after him and started the call, he took the phone out of my hand and threw it, taking Ellie at the same time.  I was in hysterics. 

He picked Ellie up.  She was now in hysterics.  She didn’t know this stranger and he didn’t know how to hold her.  He tried to cradle her as he had done when she was first born.  I finally got her from him. 

“I am going to make your life a living hell; it is about to get very ugly” He said as he left. 

The only saving grace of that night is that I could get a restraining order.  It was granted to me the following day in a matter of seconds.  He, of course, tried to fight it, but there was no fighting that one. 

The other thing the CV helped me with is that some of DP’s stuff was still at my house.  He had left with only one suitcase of clothes the night he left.   I had packed the rest in boxes and he wanted it and that was fine with me.  The funny part is that he had sent a list of other items he thought he should have as well.  I am not making this list up.  Let me stop for a moment and say that his living arrangements at that time were that he was living with his ex-girlfriend and her new husband (yeah, I know).  So, as I share this list, please remember that he did not have a house of his own, nor had he bought any of the things he was asking for. But, here is his list (I won’t share them all… just the ones I find most amusing):

1 King Size Bed

Dresser

Refrigerator

Washing Machine

Dishwasher

Cordless Telephone

Lawn Mower

So, just to get this straight, you would like to take the Fridge that keeps the food cold for your daughter, that you have not spent a penny on, food or fridge, and put it where?

Needless to say, when I got the list, I was beyond… well, I don’t even know.  I’m looking at the list now, which is actually 3 pages, pretty big font, but 3 pages, and just in awe of it all. 

****

The final thing that CV helped with is going to court the first time.

I was terrified.  I had heard some of the things already about Judge R.  I had no idea what to expect.  I didn’t know if DP would have representation or really what he would be asking for.  So many unknowns the first time you go in. 

My hope, of course, was that he would not be allowed to see Ellie.  He had just threatened us.  He was obviously having issues with drugs and/or alcohol.  This list of items he wanted from my house would have to be ironed out. 

I have always attended court with just my lawyer.  I believe that this is a case between DP and me.  I don’t think that it needs to be a circus with many people watching.  He, on the other hand, brings his ex-girlfriend, her husband, her sister and her mom.  I still have yet to understand it.  I was surprised to see them there the first time.  And still am surprised today. 

He was representing himself.  The Judge thought that was admirable. 

Once those words came out, I knew we were in for a long day.