Saturday, March 22, 2008

Second-Guessing Myself

Earlier in the week, my ex got arrested yet again. This time she was picked up because she violated the terms of probation from an earlier arrest for fifth degree theft. Okay, no big deal in and of itself, just one more in an endless string of her fuck-ups. My problem is that she lied to the kids about it, telling them that she had a panic attack and that she had to spend the night in the hospital.

"Okay, so what," you may ask? Well, here's the thing... all of this stuff is public record and the kids are old enough to start hearing about this stuff from other people. In fact, the older one is in a journalism class in high school, where she is required to read our local paper and may be required to access the local paper's information online. How would things play out if the kids found out from the newspaper -- or worse yet, from a friend?

With this in mind, I told the kids the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I told them that their mom wasn't in the hospital, but in jail... it was because she got busted for shoplifting a couple of years back and was ordered by the judge to do certain things, but didn't do everything she was told. I figured that if the kids were going to hear the truth, that they should hear it from me... after all, their mom decided not to be honest and truthful with the kids. And I figured that if I was going to tell them the truth, that I'd better tell them everything I know.

The kids reacted about as I predicted they would. The younger one was crushed and she cried. The older one simply said "Why am I not surprised," and walked out of the room. She refused to go to her mom's that night.

And their mom reacted as I expected. She called me about half of the names in the dictionary (the derogatory half), and a few that I hadn't heard before. I stood my ground as she tried to convince me that she's a good mom and simply lied "for the kids' benefit." I reminded her that she doesn't have a car, so she can't take the kids places, that she's living in a friend's basement, so she can't put a roof over their heads, and that she was in jail on her custody night, so she's not even able to be there for her kids.

By the end of the night though, I began to wonder if telling the kids was the right thing to do. As I slept (fitfully) on it, I woke up this morning to the same conclusion... I did the right thing. It would have been best if she could have owned up to her mistakes, but she chose not to do so. Better that the kids find this stuff out from me than from other kids.

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