Arcades and Movies and Curfews ... Oh My

Each visit was the same.  DP would show up just as we would be leaving as the clock struck 9:15 and there was a physical battle with trying to get Ellie to go with him.  The chaos would be enough for the entire Fred Meyer store to stop what it was doing and look at us.  I’d often suggest going outside to the parking lot so as not to become the circus act of the morning. 

DP would generally call and want to “deliver” her earlier than his time was allotted, but would never be there when he said he would be.  If he said, let’s meet at 8pm Saturday night, he would be there at 8:15.  It was a game to him.  There is no question in my mind. 

Each visit was the same in activity as well.  They would do one of three things.  Chuck E Cheese, Wunderland, or Safari Sam’s.   Now, I get that these three places are kid-friendly and upon occasion can be argued to be fun and exciting.  I even took Ellie to Safari Sam’s last week.  So, in principal, I have no huge qualms about a few of those places.  The issue I have and will always have is that he had the potential to have her 69 hours a month.  And those times were canceled.  Those times were late. Those times were spent playing video games.  Separately, not together.  They were not spent in ways that I would think you would want to really get to know your child. 

It astonished me when I got her back and I would say, what did you talk about? And the answer would be: nothing. 

The music was up too loud when they were driving to have a conversation and then when they went to one of these places, these “fun-lands” … he went one way and she went the other.  She had fun at the venues.  What kid wouldn’t? But, was that the purpose of the visits?

Often she would come home with wet pants.  This is after she was potty trained.  She never could find him to take her to the bathroom and so she would just wet herself.  Then, embarrassed to tell him, she would spend the day or evening in her soaked pants.  And, he never noticed. 

The exchange between the two of us was horrible.  I tried to be civil and have at least a pleasant “hello”.  But, he couldn’t even “stoop” to that.  He fought through the struggle to get Ellie and left. 

These horrifying moments were torturous to take.  I was sending her with this man who was not watching her, not being careful with her, not listening to her and she didn’t want to go.  Could I blame her? Absolutely not.  Yet, the law dictated that this was good for her. 

There was a day that was around the year point after he had started having her.  And he asked me to go to dinner with the two of them on Wednesday night.  I could literally count on my two hands the number of words we had exchanged up until that point so I was blown away by the request.  I had no desire to go.  I had no desire to be in the same vicinity with him.  I was so sick to my stomach by what he said that I immediately said no and turned around.  Then Ellie pulled on me and begged, Please. 

How could I say no to that?

We walked from the Fred Meyer parking lot to Izzy’s.  My stomach turning over and over again thinking what is this about? Is he moving? Is he dying? Does he need to tell me he can’t do this visitation thing anymore? Is he going to ask for more time? Less?

When we sat down, I asked immediately, “what’s up?” and he said, “wow, you cut to the chase.”

I remember saying, “you asked me here for a reason and I am curious what it is.”

He said, “I have some questions about how to take care of Ellie.”

Wow… I was shocked.  Was he coming to actually try to be a better parent?

“Okay… specifically… what do you mean?”

“For example, what do you do with her?”

“I play with her, take her to the park, talk to her, take walks.”

“How many movies can she watch a day?”

“One at the most,” I said

“How many are you letting her watch?” I asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he said.

“What about bedtime?” he asked.

“When do you put her to bed?” I replied

“Well, the last time I had her overnight we left the arcade in North Portland at 10:30 so we didn’t get home until 11.”

“She is 4 ½ ” I blurted out.  “What is a 4 ½ year old doing at an arcade in the first place and in the 2^nd place why is she staying out that late?”

“She likes it” he said.

“Of course she does.” I retorted.

By this time my heart was in my throat and I couldn’t see straight.  What was happening when he had her? It was much worse than I had thought.  I was thinking of the dungy dirty arcades and my 4 ½ year old being there at 10:30 at night.  And then the next morning watching movies until it was time for me to pick her up. 

I calmly took a breath and said, “look… you don’t have her that long.  Why don’t you skip the arcades and the Chuck E Cheeses and actually spend time with her? Do you know her favorite color? What she likes to do? Do you know that she wets her pants almost every time she is with you because she can’t find you and then she is afraid to tell you? And, WE, you and I, need to be civil.  Whether you realize it or not, she is watching us. When you come to get her, can you at least acknowledge me? And, would it hurt you to be on time? It is teaching her to be late.  And, I don’t think that is good.”

He thought about it all for a moment and then said, “you have good points.”

Dinner was over and I was done.  He still had time to visit with her, but said I could take her home.  That was fine with me.  I wanted to go scrub her free of the arcade she had been to a week before. 

The next time we met, I had high hopes for an on-time departure and a “hello” from her dad.  Neither came true.  And, they spent the day at Chuck E Cheese.

He texted me around 3pm to see if I could pick her up early.