It’s cold and wet outside. Waiting for the school bus this morning was nothing short of terrible, with a fierce and freezing wind whipping us across the faces until we turned our back, literally, on it and ice cold drops of rain pelting us in the backs of our heads. Umbrellas were useless because the wind was too strong to keep them open and in position. Gone are the lovely hues of autumn with everything replaced with slate grey instead.

The last thing I feel like doing is taking Michael out to have his portrait taken but the appointment has been confirmed and re-scheduling will just mean trying to plan out another time later in the month. Besides, I need eye make up pads and dish liquid. Trouble is, he’s still sleeping because he woke up late this morning (I think because it’s now so dark in the mornings but I still wonder why he couldn’t have slept late over the weekend!) and therefore took a later morning nap and will now sleep longer. Do you think that the portrait Gods are trying to tell me something?

I fell asleep a little while ago giving myself Reiki on my bed. I woke up feeling mixed up and confused, and pretty sure I was in the middle of having a conversation with someone. The phone was ringing and I couldn’t understand how that was possible since I was already talking on the phone.

This is why I’m not a good napper. I usually feel crummier when I wake up than when I laid down to sleep. And it takes me too long to shake off the sleepy feeling.

Last night did not go all that well. The upside to Rock being here was that he brought some wood in from the garage for me and made a big fire in the furnace. But that’s pretty much where the pluses ended, unfortunately.

The short version of the evening can be summed up this way:

Even though I’m willing to agree to far less child support than he really should be paying in the hopes that he will be able to get on his feet a bit faster and my children will have a nicer place to visit their Dad in addition to the hope that if he’s not paying too much support, he’ll be more inclined to help out with the cost of clothing them and go half with me on things like portraits and school trips and even though I willingly agreed to every second weekend and one night a week for visitation and even though I agreed to take them for four weeks in a row so that he could go hunting (but apparently he can’t take a day off from his other job this coming weekend to spend with his children so they will be accompanying him to the job site), he wants more.

He wants me to sign a legally binding agreement stating that I will not move until fall of 2010. Unless I am kicked out of this house and have to take an apartment within town or whatever, he wants the kids and I to stay right where we are. For at least another two years. At which time he’ll be willing to open it back up and talk about it.

This might not sound like such a big deal but he knows that I want to leave. He knows that there is nothing for me here. He knows that that has been the plan since day fucking one. And furthermore, after this many years of marriage and three kids, he should know by now that everything I do, I do for my children. And no matter what, I’m always thinking of them first so I therefore wouldn’t dream of uprooting them any time soon and taking them far, far away. But in the near future…like by the end of the school year… yes. I want to move. But that’s another post for another day.

His condition is unacceptable. Period.

I told him as much. After he was finished name calling.

And then he told me that if I didn’t agree he would take me to court to fight me for custody of our children. It’s a ridiculous idea, but that’s not the point. It’s still a threat. And I’m still scared.

So much for this being clean and easy, eh?

And yes…I’m getting a lawyer.