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I overheard Skid’s summer break itinerary

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Yes, you read that right. Overheard, because I’m never given this information face-to-face. 

And why would anyone? I mean, I obviously don’t care and don’t want to be bothered with any of it (in the big picture this is absolutely correct, btw), but I will be forced into a place of having some feelings/opinions about things at some point.

O/T: inappropriate workplace drama

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I’ve been working part time for a few months. I love my job. LOVE it. The one and only downside is that I work with someone who I’ve known for a long time - longer than I’ve known my husband. Someone who has always given off the vibe that he wanted to be more than just platonic friends. In fact, he had a mini meltdown when he found out that my now DH and I moved past the just friends part and started dating. 

An update ** waves “Hi!” **

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Not much is new. 

MIL is is full arse-shining mode with me, given we’re in the homestretch of Skid’s tentative summer visitation. She generally arrives sometime around the end of May, so MIL puts in the extra effort to get me onboard with the game plan, holding out hope that I’ll miraculously start doting over Skid and playing babysitter all summer.

After last summer’s shenanigans? No way. 

Sorta O/T: Marriage counseling

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I’ll preface this with I’ve always wanted us to go to marriage counseling, starting years ago.

I reached my proverbial tipping point a couple weeks ago and insisted that we go - preferably before the end of the year and especially before I’m forced to engage with DH’s parents on Christmas.

I hopped on Good Therapy, found a local therapist that met our crazy schedule needs and specialized in high conflict marriage counseling. I called and made an appointment.

Therapist wanted to do a solo appt each, with the third appointment being our first couple session.

Is BM back to her old self?

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Those of you who are familiar with my inlaw + step family dynamics will most likely follow my theory here the easiest.

Basically, my MIL acts as gatekeeper with skid’s visitation. Both she and FIL steamroll DH when it comes to communication with BM. In turn, BM sidesteps and flat-out ignores all communication with DH, when she can 100% get her needs met through his parent’s tolerance of her BS.

BM hates accountability and rules. 

It’s a Christmas miracle - Skid is NOT coming

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That is, unless something changes between now and a couple weeks.

DH spoke with skid last night and she said she is NOT coming for Christmas. And as I understand it, this includes after too.

The court ordered visitation states that skid spends every other Christmas with DH, with the alternating year flying out after Christmas on the 28th.

Well, for the last SIX YEARS straight skid has spent it with us. Generally from the 2nd week in December, all the way through the first week in January. She’s in private school, so extra long break. 

Can we revisit Skid journaling her visits?

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Because it really has me reeling lately.

MIL is really ramping-up her fake niceties with Thanksgiving and Christmas around the corner and all, wanting to ensure I engage with all of them, and it’s amplifying my anxiety that skid will be journaling DH’s (and mine?) every move, every word spoken, over Christmas.

FIL pawning DH’s guitar - part deux

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DH’s father recently asked if he could pawn his (DH’s) high end Martin guitar. DH stupidly gives him permission. A few days later, FIL shows-up at DH’s work, bearing gifts - expensive shoes for DH. Per DH, FIL also handed him a couple unused McDonald’s Happy Meal boxes & toys. You know... something for the kids. My kids don’t eat McDonald’s, but, uh, okay.

FIL pawning DH’s property

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... with DH’s permission, of course. A couple of high-end acoustic Martin guitars, to be exact. 

I guess it wouldn’t bother me too much if this wasn’t the same person that enables DH’s high conflict ex, the BM, by paying for plane tickets for visits that are against the court ordered visitation.

Or the same person that’s addicted to the puppy phase of dog ownership, and has 6 dogs to prove it.

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