I have one son who is overly emotional. He wants to be nurtured and loved but he's afraid to ask to be loved. He wonders why we maintain our love for him even though he makes mistakes.  He worries that if he chose to make independent decisions that could help him become a better person, that his birth mother would reject him and stop loving him. Self infliction of physical pain feels better than the emotional pain that pierces his heart and anger smolders at the tip of a short fuse.


I have another son who is emotionless. He doesn't know what love is. Love to him is making sure his physical needs are met. If he receives nothing more than food and shelter then nothing more would matter to him, not even love. He self-hypnotizes himself and spaces out when faced with personal problems. He's impervious to pain, he's not very empathetic than your typical kid, and is less able than other children to put his own suffering into words.

We reach out to these children. We weep for them, We weep with them, and then wonder, "How long will it take for us to break down these walls?"

What happened in their childhood that caused this dysfunction? What caused the maternal detachment and how can it be repaired with the surrogate mother in place who yearns to nurture them?


It breaks my heart into a million pieces when I hear my sons speak of the loveless life they live in their birth mother's home. They have mentioned how the words, "I love you" do not exist unless it is expected to be spoken in the presence of company. They say that a hug from birth mother to son feels awkward and fake, and again, does not exist in the home unless it is expected to be given in the presence of company.

I don't understand.  I love my sons to death. I love them as much as I love my own two daughters. I hope that someday we will be able to undo the damage that has been done to them, then put it all behind us so they can live long healthy, happy lives.

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  Would I say this in person?
  
  
  
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  Would I say this over the phone?
  
  
  
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  Would I like to see it printed in a newspaper?
  
  
  
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  Would I like to here it on the television?
  
  
  
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  Would I like to hear it repeated aloud in a court of law?
  
  
  

Fast forward: Years have gone by. The divorce case had been closed since February 1997 but the ex, well, when does she ever stop raising cain? I'll tell ya when, when she up and decides she's going to get married. The marriage happenned in June of 2000 so let's rewind for just a minute . . . .

Late Summer 1999, we're dealing with all the usual fun stuff that comes with being attached at the hip to an ex. Annie thinks she's not getting paid enough child support even though Ryan is paying her over $450 per month based on a $35,000 yearly income when he only makes $15,000/year, thanks to Annie's handy work at forging his signature on the child support paperwork back in 1996! I'm not bitter, Noooooo I'm beyond bitter, I think I've gone looney because we can barely make ends meet, but does that stop Annie from calling every other week to ask for shoes and clothes and anything else she can get her grubby hands on? Of course not! She even went as far as telling me that my parents were made of money so it was only right that I should help her out, but "Please, don't tell Ryan I'm calling you asking for a hand out!" hahaha ............(I'm no fool *evil grin*) "Oh-h-h Rya-a-an! Phone call!"

Annie got the hint after that phone call. She never called me again for a long time, "Darn the luck!"

Ok so the phone calls stop coming. Have you ever gotten that uneasy feeling when you know someone is just being too quiet and you suspect that they are up to no good? That feeling happens a lot around here! Well not only did calls stop coming from Annie, but we couldn't call the children without the answering machine picking up. 

It had been months since Ryan's parents practiced visitation (They were awarded Grandparent rights during the divorce.) because no contact could be established.  Finally, we get through when an issue came up concerning the medical insurance of the younger son and Tessa answers the phone. We asked for Annie and Tessa says in a hasty tone, "I don't know where the heck she's at! I've had these boys all weekend long and I've already missed one day of work because Annie is never around!" I ask, well where is she? How can I contact her?" and Tessa responds, "How should I know? She's spends her weekends in Akron!"

I'm going to speed through this part of my story because if you've seen one game then you've obviously seen them all. My father-in-law used to say, "Your species is all f*cked up!". He was referring to women and the games we play. Wouldn't you agree? I am a woman when I want to be but most times I am a lady and real ladies don't play those nasty games  *evil grin* .

So on with my story. . .

Months roll by and I started dating this man. He was still dealing with his divorce which took forever to litigate because of all the fun games the ex decided to play. I wouldn't blame the delay entirely on her because cases were so backed up in the county court system the final judgment was filed fourteen months later.

Annie filed a petition to receive alimony. It is the law in this particular state that an ex-spouse cannot be granted alimony unless the parties were married for more than 23 years. She managed to pull off a real good sob story about her husband preventing her from being allowed to further her higher education and was granted alimony of $50/month for two years.  There was a catch though, in those two years Annie was required to enroll into college. If she dropped out the alimony would end.

Annie received a grant to pay for her tuition and books. It was a grant with stipulations where she had to be a single parent for more than a year in order to receive the grant. (She lied to the IRS and the college and filed her taxes listing herself as being single. She refused to sign the 1040 joint forms her husband needed to file because she wanted her grant approved.) She also dropped out of college before the two years ended, but no attorney would retain my husband to press charges against her because he was a "man".

Annie loved playing games.  She called at least twice a week to stir things up with Ryan. I remember one call that gave me the biggest laugh. The phone rang at around 8:00 a.m. Ryan answered it and all I can hear is screaming coming from the other end of the receiver. Ryan starts to laugh and says, " You've got the wrong man Annie. I thought for sure that you could do no wrong before, and now I wonder, who were you f*cking before you left me?" The conversation lasted for at least 10 minutes with Ryan laughing uncontrollably.  Before the call ended Ryan says, "Would it make you feel better if I mail you a copy of my yearly, manditory, physical examination I received in February? I assure you, it will say I am clean of any STDs. I suggest you call your boyfriends on the side and accuse them and leave me the hell alone."

I walked into the kitchen where Ryan was standing and asked, "What was that all about?" and he says with a giggle, "Annie has herpes! She claims she just got home from a doctor's appointment and was diagnosed with herpes so she called to accuse me of cheating and passing it onto her! She shut-up real quick when I told her I was clean."

Poor Annie. . . No one but Annie will ever know the truth about whether she really did contract herpes and by whom. It will forever be her dirty little secret.

Annie played many games. Her most favorite was the visitation games. Ryan would give his Notice of Intent to practice visitation and Annie always responded saying, "I'm sorry but the boys don't know you well enough to see you." This game lasted for almost 10 years.

Ryan tried to keep a steady schedule of phone calls to his young sons but that didn't last long. Annie and her parents were good about screening his calls. Sometimes when Tessa answered the phone Ryan could hear his sons voices in the background, but Tessa insisted that the children were not home.

Not a day went by when I didn't see my huband weep by the telephone. He was slowly being torn from the lives of his own two sons.

*Sigh*. . . Today was a difficult day. It was fun for the most part because it is the New Year and we took our clan to the Zoo but my heart felt heavy.  My eldest stepson came home for winter break and has to fly home tomorrow morning. My heart aches like something fierce! The walls are spinning all around me and I want to drop down to my knees and sob because I cannot fathom sending him away. The feeling is so intense like I am mourning for the loss of my own child.

I could sense the process of detachment begin as my stepson grew quiet and distant from the rest of our family. I knew it was time for him to start crawling back into his shell and distant himself from us in an effort to make it easier on him to leave.

I wound up blowing up in front of the family this afternoon when my stepson rejected my offer to give him a haircut. It wasn't so much the fact that he rejected the offer of a haircut that got my emotions stirred up, it was all the mixed feelings inside me that caused me to explode. This happened right before we left the house to meet with our family therapist for one last session of the week.  It was no surprise to our therapist that emotions were stirring when he greeted us at the door. My face was tear stained and my stepson looked down to the floor in dispair.  It was time to finally hit the nail on the head.  For some odd reason our therapist was happy that I was upset.

My stepson spoke with our therapist first, then I was called in. Our therapist was a little confused with how this so-called argument started and I had to explain that it was more like a "one-sided" argument because I was the one who flew off the handle. I managed to cough out my feelings. After all these years of supressing my fears and feelings I spilled the beans. "I Resent Her. I resent the fact that she is the birth mom. I resent that she is raising my stepson and doing a piss poor job at it. I don't want to put you on that plane tomorrow morning!" As I spoke, my body tremored uncontrollably and my tears soaked my freckled cheeks. I asked, "What is wrong with me? These boys are not even my children, so why the heck do I care so damn much?" I didn't understand. It's hard to explain why I've grown so emotionally attached to both my stepsons. I love them like my own. I wish they were my own. If they were my own two sons they would not have to worry about a vindictive birth mother constantly filing court papers in an effort to make life miserable.
I was a mess today. What I didn't realize was that my stepson was dealing with his own demons and by my explosion his fears manifested and he was able to verbalize his own pain. He sobbed, "Why do you go out of your way to love me? I am not worthy of being loved by you. I don't deserve your love. I hurt you so much and yet you refuse to turn your back on me."

Unworthy of being loved? Did I hear him correctly? He sees a good thing set right in front of him and he doesn't take it! Instead he walks away, thinking, "this is too good to be true".  Why?

I explained to my stepson that my love for him will never seize to exist even if he makes stupid decisions in life. In all this drama, I discovered that my maternal instincts had managed to kick into high gear, ultimately creating a very strong bond with my two stepsons. I found out through my sons that this bond that I have with them is something they lack with their birth mother. It saddened me to hear from my stepson that he cannot talk to his mother about his problems the way we do. He stated that he can't hug his mother like he can his father and I.  He wept when he said that his mother doesn't go out of his way to hug him and when a hug is expected, he described it as being awkward and fake. He wondered why. I can't explain why. I can't even explain why he feels more connected to me as a mother than his own birth mother. All I could suggest is that he sit down and talk to her.
My stepson worries a lot. His biggest concern is about being "loved". He wonders why his father and I refuse to turn our backs on him, and continue to love him  regardless of the hurt he's caused in the past. Why love him? Well that's simple, because he needs us and we need him.

My stepson has concerns that his mother and grandparents might one day stop loving him.  He is 16 years old. Kids his age shouldn't be worrying about things like that, but he does. He makes decisions based on what they want and not what he feels is good for him. He worries that if he makes a decision based on what his wants and needs are, that they will stop loving him. This is tough, we cannot live our lives pleasing everyone. Life just doesn't work that way. I don't understand the situation at hand. I wish he could see the simplicity of telling people, "No, I choose to take the path of my choice because it will help me.", and not worry about hurting their feelings. This is his life!

I have to put him on the plane early tomorrow morning. It is important for me to remind him each week how much I love him. He needs to hear those words often. . .

I'm sure by now you are wondering what the french phrase, "Mon Nouveau Dit" has to do with my blog. But for me to tell you I'd be jumping way ahead of myself. I will tell you this much, Mon Nouveau Dit in english means "My New Alias". You must read on to find out where this phrase comes to play. You have a lot to learn about me, and much more to learn about how to build yourself a winning custody case from nothing.