Okay, so… I’ve decidedly kept mum about recent events involving “The BD” in any more current posts because I’ve been trying to let my woman filter run its proverbial course first. Don’t scratch your head at me. You know exactly what I’m talking about when I say “woman filter”. It’s that female thing that happens when male people do some ignorant ish and we want to throw daggers at them, aiming for painful places…but we need to make sure we ain’t just overreacting before we say (or throw) something(s).
I’m a meditator and so, I’ve had many sessions with me, myself and my highest self trying to make sense out of the nonsense, to no avail. I’ve had conversations with friends–I have like one great girl friend and the rest of my closest, closest friends are male people and so, I definitely don’t have any “gurrrrl” going on in my life or in this discussion. The fact that the series of transgressions are still in the mid neck region of my top of mind topics is what is really aggravating me. And thus, the reason for this post. Apparently, some things need a blog intervention and so, here we go.
ACT 1, SCENE 1:
The man formerly known as “The BD”– who, like Prince, has re-earned his former stage name– and I have been really cool for at least the last year. I worked really very hard to nudge our co-parenting relationship in the direction that we found ourselves– Very cool, very devoid of drama and very on path to my vision of one big solid extended family unit which includes both his and my side of Aubrei’s family. We were doing so well. And then…
As you may have read in my last post, Aubrei and I moved into our new spot a few weeks ago. For months “The BD” and I made moving arrangements that included a few of his very-well-equipped-to-help-move-my-crap younger brothers. His dad was even in on it. Everything was set for 2 Wednesdays ago. Or so I thought. I needed to get the truck and so I needed a solid confirmation from him with regard to his work schedule. I could actually feel the flaking happen, but I rode out. I wanted to believe that he had actually evolved into a man of his word. *sigh*
Here’s the trick to all of this. I was on a super tight moving schedule. My goal was to have everything moved in on that Wednesday because Aubrei’s birthday was that weekend and I would be leaving for Miami on that Sunday. I didn’t want to rush anything. My mental ends were already fried because of all the drama that had ensued for the two weeks prior, plus the planning of Aubrei’s Princessa Birthday Party, staying up to every butt-hole-clock in the morning hand making invitations, making cupcakes for school, making sure of the guest list, etc., etc. *I had to go away or I would have run over a preacher with a big wheel. Or worse, thrown a mixing bowl filled with glitter and glue at a sibling or parent. By accident.
Anyway, so to make at least some of my compounding stressfulness seem less so, my plan was to get all the big stuff out of storage on Wednesday, Thursday at the latest, so I could focus on Aubrei, her birthday and her party for the whole of the weekend, before I was off to my decompression session. The BD was a huge part of my plan’s success. He knew this, because I’m a fairly clear person. I tend not to mince words. If I were any more clear, a moving memo and invoice would have been involved, but I thought that to be weird.
ACT 1, SCENE 2:
I started calling him on Monday. No return call, no text. nada. Tuesday. same. Wednesday. same. Now. We have a kid together. To not return a phone call between us is a wittle more than flaky. It’s weird parenting. Okay, so maybe, he didn’t really want to help us move in our new place. Maybe he was just saying he would because it sounded good and noble and man-esque. I’m not saying it’s his duty to help me move, but my crib is Aubrei’s crib and to flake out on me in this instance (in my opinion) was actually flaking out on Aubrei. Needless to say, I heard nothing from him until after the gentle cuss out on Thursday when the very gay and very brief text battle took place. I cannot devulge the contents of said battle here, just know, I’m a writer. Nobody wins a text battle with me. God knows I’ll beat a *bleep* down with every noun, verb, pronoun, adjective and hyperbole in my arsenal. What?! He started it.
The gist of his side of the text wankness was that (I’m paraphrasing and adding accented texture to make him sound extra girly, even though the fact that the text thing even started is kinda girly) “So what. I don’t have to tell you nothing. I don’t have to explain nothing to you about why I didn’t call or text you back…I’m a grown ass man.” Do you hear the record screeching to a halt too?
Okay so, then he said something like, “I was gonna help your *blank* ass move TODAY too, but since you want to be a *blank* about it, hahahaha. I’m not even gonna help you now. Ass.” That part he actually did say verbatim.
ACT 1, SCENE 3:
Yeah, so. Here’s the thing. I’m a firm believer that every moment is perfect. every situation is perfect. Every person is perfect. I tried desperately to find the perfection in the entire situation and couldn’t until a new male friend of mine offered to help me. There was a lasagna bribe involved, but he invited some friends, I invited some friends and before Thursday came to a close, I had a moving party popping with all the fixins. It turned out dope. But we’re not there yet.
So yeah. I’m not one who needs an apology when I’m wronged. To me an apology is a cop out when one is willingly being a dick for no reason. Sorry just doesn’t cut it for me, because 9 1/2 times out of ten, I’ve already forgiven you so I can move on with my life. But, in the case of the BD, I was more miffed at him because he flaked and instead of just apologizing for G.P. and keeping it moving, He tried to start a fight. And then he was–get this–mad at me????
ACT 2, SCENE 1:
The next day was Aubrei’s actual birthday. I had to wash, blow dry and flat iron Aubrei’s hair. I also had to dye both my sister and my hair. I stayed up until 7 am making chocolate cupcakes from scratch for Aubrei’s school. *sigh* Not one to allow my personal feelings for the BD to interfere with his relationship with Aubrei, I made sure he knew he was warmly invited to Aubrei’s school for cupcakes and what time I would be there and that afterward I was taking Aubrei for her birthday diva day at the nail salon.
ACT 2, SCENE 2:
He never called, never text me back. He did call the school the day prior telling them he was bringing pizza. That pizza never arrived. He showed up though, an hour later after a series of very gangsta name calling texts on his part when I asked him if he was coming. *sigh* Yes, awkward. I didn’t say a thing, I refused to have our shenanigans ruin Aubrei’s birthday and so I bit hard on my tongue, kept that pleasant stage smile that happens in “the biz” when you have to work with someone you really can’t stand and then we kept it moving. Aubrei and I had our Diva day and everything was cool. Or so I thought.
ACT 2, SCENE 3:
So my moving party was a success. We ate, drank, moved and were very merry. I made a few new friends, we had intelligent conversation over the fabulous glass table and leather chairs that became present and so next came Aubrei’s actual birthday party.
ACT 3, SCENE 1:
Did I mention that in the two or so years that the BD has had a live in jawn, I have NEVER met her? Sure, he told me they were engaged three months after he and I broke up, but I never took him seriously, mostly because every time we broke up, he came back a few weeks later with the “I’m engaged” line. I mean, sure, I knew he lived with her, but the fact that he had this woman around our child and never made ANY effort–even when I asked–for us to meet, I just assumed he was either embarrassed by her or he was just full of shit.
I say this because, to my surprise, Aubrei’s party is successfully underway and he and his family (whom I actually love dearly) step into the place to be. He comes up to me and Aubrei with a woman I’ve never seen before. She introduces herself in a forceful, awkward way. I knew exactly who she was. I’m unreasonably pleasant under the circumstances. Tell her it’s great to meet her. I wasn’t lying. *If you’re wondering what she’s like. Uh, I don’t want to sound petty. Those who know me, know that I love and appreciate a strong, elegant, beautiful, powerful woman. I make those women my friends. I will say, she didn’t strike me as any of those things–I was actually disappointed (at face value) to be honest– and we’ll keep it moving.*
ACT 3, SCENE 2:
I also found out from my family that she did, in fact, have a ring on her left ring finger. Again, I don’t want to sound petty. I didn’t see it. Enough said.
INTERMISSION:
Okay. So. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out why a man who showed very little interest in my meeting his fiance (?!!) for two+ years prior, would suddenly feel the urge to have us meet at our daughter’s birthday party? And not even show the slightest courtesy or respect by giving me a heads up that he was bringing her. Any guesses?
My male friends seem to think he was being vindictive and trying to “get my goat”. But my question is: FOR WHAT?! He flaked out on me with moving. Which is where all this started. He had the attitude on Aubrei’s birthday. He brought his frumpy woman, whom I have never met, to OUR daughter’s birthday party– where she obviously felt out of place because she held up every wall she could find. What in the world on male people antics planet does HE have to be vindictive to ME about? Wasn’t I the one who had to continue with the show smile, after every silly occurrence? Jeez.
ACT 4:
I must also add that The BD has been an even bigger ass crack to me since the party. His a-hole-ness continued whilest I was in Miami. He was supposed to help my mother pick Aubrei up from school while I was away. She never heard from him. He flaked out on picking Aubrei up on his weekend last week. Can all of this erratic behavior be because of his move flake? I’m so confused.
PLAYWRIGHT’S NOTES AND WHAT NOT:
Here’s the thing…I care, but at this point in my life, I really don’t. I can take or leave his existence in Aubrei and my life. Over the course of the last four years, I’ve worked very hard to make sure that despite our relational shortcomings, that Aubrei knew her dad and had him in her life. Believe when I say that if I didn’t reeeeeally want that, it wouldn’t have happened on his part. I refused to step in the way of his relationship with Aubrei, because I know how important a father is to his daughter. Even when he comes at me with some variation of this mess. Am I perfect? Hell to tha Naw. But I honestly enjoy peace in my life and so I put forth effort there, even when it’s really uncomfortable for me. We’ve all seen how the co-parenting arrangement can go (on both sides)– he should be kissing the Earth around my new spot right now. Alas, I digress.
He’s gotten so much better than he was–at least I thought–but the truth is–I have to question–has he really? If I really step off and make no more of my out-of-the-box co-parenting efforts to keep Aubrei and her dad in close ties, will he make any effort at all? Or will it always be about how he’s feeling about me at the time? Or whatever else makes a male person lose sight of the bigger picture to wallow in whatever. Can a “grown ass man” really be so selfish and immature?
I actually have no answer to this question. I don’t think anybody does. I will say though that co-parenting is NOT an easy task. Unless both parents are willing to take the high road as much as possible for the greatest good of their kids, just like in any relationship, something is going to break down. If one parent is genuine in his/her belief of the extended family factor and the other is riding out on the superficial tip–by design–something is going to break down.
Again, I state: every situation is perfect. People do exactly what they are designed to do. And it’s always for our greatest good. That’s why I can’t really be mad at any of it. My plan for the last few weeks didn’t go as I planned, but every single thing turned out far better than even I could have planned. Which is a testament to how God works. That, my friends, is THE thing. As for The BD? You know what? Whatever he’s going through is on him. My hands are squeaky, squeaky clean on this one.
The moral of this story? No idea. Just some food for thought. Thank you for reading this though. I bid you peace and blessings in your *Good Lawd I’m a Co-Parent* journey. Love, -e-