I’m a chronic fixer-upper. I’m not just talking home-improvement projects - although I do enjoy those - I’m talking relationships. When I see a man warring with his internal demons, I cast myself in the role of mother and savior and he turns into my sole focus for the next 6 months to 3 years. All of my exs have fallen under one or more of the following headings: Selfish, bitter, co-dependant, promiscuous, sadistic, and/or drug-addicted. My ex-husband, Mr. Perfect, was no different. The upside of the story is that I got a beautiful little boy, Bubba, out of our time together. The downside is that even though I’ve divorced Perfect, I’m still I’m stuck with him for the next 12 years and 9 months. I’m counting down the days....

In my household we have two boys, Bubba and Boo. Bubba is just entering kindergarten and Boo is just entering daycare which means that I have two walking Petri dishes running around my house with grubby hands, runny noses and faces that just beg to be kissed. I can’t remember the last time everyone in our house was healthy at the same time. It must have been before Boo was born…

Yesterday Boo began vomiting for no apparent reason. Between spewing food like the child from the Exorcist, he seems to feel wonderful but I’m concerned nevertheless. This morning at about 4 AM, Bubba crawled into my bed complaining that his tummy hurt. I kissed his forehead to test his temperature and he deposited his dinner on me and my bed sheets. God I love being a mom.
 
Today my mother and I are administering Motrin and Tylenol, refilling sippy cups of Sprite, singing lullabies and using gallons of hand sanitizer in the futile hope that we won’t get sick ourselves. Tomorrow Bubba was scheduled to return to school and to Perfect’s custody. As a courtesy, I texted Perfect to give him a heads up on the situation. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Bubba’s running a fever of 101. I’m alternating Motrin/Tylenol and it keeps it down. Do you have someone who can watch him tomorrow? I doubt he’ll be well enough to go to school.

Perfect: I have to work tomorrow. You’ll have to stay home and take him to the doctor.

Me: I have school and my mom has to go to work. You wanted to stick strictly to the custody agreement. If you want to follow the agreement, then you need to make arrangements for him. If you want to be flexible, I can miss school tomorrow and take him to the doctor. But it has to work both ways.

Perfect: I have been taking care of him and taking him to the doctor for the past 3 years. I guess I shouldn’t expect that to change now.

Me: I’m willing to take care of him tomorrow and take him to the doctor, but this custody agreement should be mutually beneficial. It can’t always work for you and not for me.

Perfect: Just drop him off tonight at 6. I always take care of him. I’ll take care of him now.

His arrogance is infuriating. He says he’s taken Bubba to the doctor for the past 3 years and it’s true, he has been taking him to the doctor - on the days he had custody! I’ve also taken him to the doctor on the day’s I’ve had custody. I can’t count the number of times I’ve picked up Bubba from day care to find him hacking, nauseous, and runny nosed, and driven him three hours to my house (because Perfect has this wonderful habit of moving 3 hours away from me every time I move to be closer to him) only to have to turn around and take him to the emergency room because I can’t bring his fever down. And rarely has Perfect responded to my requests for him to give me Bubba’s current insurance card, so I usually paid for these visits out of pocket. But I guess in Perfect’s mind those instances don’t count because they were inconveniences to me and not to him.

I would have no problem staying home with Bubba tomorrow. Sometimes, mommies make sacrifices. 6 years ago when Perfect and I found out that I was pregnant and we decided to get married instead of giving Bubba up for adoption, I accepted that role and all the responsibilities that come along with it. I’m at peace with that decision. But for some reason anytime being a daddy conflicts with Perfect’s schedule, he expects me to pick up the slack, and any time I want an extra day or two with Bubba, Perfect waves his stack of paper and screams “It’s not in the custody agreement!”

There has to be some give and take.

I’m sick of being the only one giving.