And This Is How I Accidentally Slept With A Naked Homeless Guy On Drugs

**If the photos appear fuzzy, viewing on your mobile device's desktop version clears them up**

If only we had known what was hiding under the lights, of The Ellison Suites Hotel, maybe none of this would have happened.

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Have you ever had something happen in your life, that is just so far out of the "normal" category, that it doesn't even seem real?

I'm speechless, and that's really saying something, if you know me.

In fact when it was happening, I kept saying how this was going to be the best blog ever, but now that I'm trying to actually write about it... I've been staring at my computer for the past three days and the only words that keep coming to my mind are "What. The. F."

Since I don't even know where to start, I guess I'll start back at the beginning, when Mr. Attorney Man and I had to fly to LA for some business. I had a few meetings to attend that he didn't need to be at, so for the first few days, we spent much of our time apart. But, because his (super fun) wife had traveled with him, we decided to check out of the swanky hotel I had stayed at for my meetings, and stay an extra day in a hotel that Mr. Attorney Man had found, by the beach.

A hotel that I looked up online, and promptly decided I wasn't staying in. 

"Um, this place looks scary" I hinted.

My Ex's Attorney Is A Killer (Literally)

If you didn't read the last post, "I'm Not There Anymore," I suggest reading that first so that this post makes sense.

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It’s been a few days since my day in court, and I’m feeling much better. Overall I wasn’t feeling all that bad to begin with (compared to prior years in court), but either way it always takes a lot out of me.

This whole process has just been ridiculous. As a bit of background on this most current situation that brought us into court, Ex is ordered to pay 50% of all our children's medical, daycare, school, and extra curricular expenses. But about a year ago, he started to fall behind again; which if you are new to this blog, is a constant issue with him. He either doesn't pay the bills and/or child support, I take him to court, he is threatened with jail, and he catches up for a few months on a payment plan, before he stops paying again.

Sensing that we were about to head down the familiar legal intervention path, I told him that if he started paying me a set amount per week, that I would personally eat the cost of anything above and beyond that. The number that I offered him was significantly lower than what expenses actually are, but it would have been worth it just to not have to deal with him. To make the offer sweeter, Mr. Attorney Man graciously offered to waive the fees billed from prior court dates that Ex had not yet paid (since Ex was found in contempt, he has to pay my attorney).

Ex rejected the idea.

I'm Not There Anymore

It’s 6:30am. My husband just left for work, and the kids are sleeping. It’s been raining on and off, so it’s still dark out, and the cars driving on the road outside, are making a whizzing noise on the wet pavement as people rush off to work. A chill hangs in the air and fog has settled so thick outside, that I can’t see the cornfields right outside my front door. It’s exactly the kind of morning where you pull the covers up under your chin and relish the last few minutes you have before your alarm goes off, but I can’t sleep.

It actually feels a lot like the night several years ago when I found myself in bed, opening my laptop, and starting this blog.

I woke up this morning crying, and I’m not sure why. Tears clung to my cheeks as the pillowcase clung to my face, and my nose was running. Maybe I had been dreaming, but the more likely scenario is that even in sleep, I’m still decompressing from the events of yesterday.

My Ex Is Ruining My Marriage

Last Friday, she called me at 6am, 9am, 12pm, 4pm, and 2am, and then her family called me at 3pm and 7pm.

And she is just one of my many nonprofit clients.

I absolutely adore her and she is definitely one of my favorite clients, but she is going through some really tough things right now, and even though her life is not my own, I am beginning to feel emotionally overwhelmed and exhausted.

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For Christmas, The Guy gave The Boy Child a Ninja Turtle shaving set, and he couldn’t have been more thrilled.

The Lies My Ex Spews (And Why We Shouldn't Do Drugs)

A couple of weeks ago, I had court again with my ex. We were there for the ongoing saga that is the child support issue, and thank you Lord, when I got there, BEST DAY EVER.

My regular judge was on vacation.

Photo Courtesy of Giphy.com

And the stand-in judge looked like he needed about a gallon of coffee and a few grams of something illegal just to stay away for the next twenty minutes.

Basically, I loved that judge.

Unfortunately for me, before I even got the chance to have my case heard by this new, amazingly awesome judge, my ex asked Mr. Attorney Man if he could speak to me in the hall.

"Sure, why not," I said. I mean really, what could possibly go wrong in that situation (besides of course, everything).

I'd like to say that I agreed to do it because I had suddenly adopted some primal warrior attitude that was giving me the bravery I had previously lacked, but I'd be totally lying. Rather, that morning I was feeling rather stoic about the whole thing. I hadn’t been scared to walk into the court room, but I honestly think it's because my ex has dragged me through so much over the last few years, that I have begun to feel almost numb as of late. Abuse, rape, infidelity, lies, addiction, financial ruin, abandonment, hurt children, stalking, new wives, new children, and a never-ending court process, has all lead me to a place where I just feel numb to his destruction of me.

I really don’t think there are many more ways that he can hurt me. 

So into the hallway I went, where he began to spew his lies and play his victim card, and in turn, forget "stoic," because I instantly felt like my head was going to explode.

Photo Courtesy Of Giphy.com

“You took out a car insurance policy on my car, and when you got into an accident, my rates went up!” he hissed.

It was then that I made the snap decision that rather than physically attack his lying ass and get myself thrown in jail, I would take the high road...

... and passive aggressively chat with him.

There's Something I Need To Tell You (Part Two)

If you haven't read Part One of this post, I highly, highly suggest clicking here and doing so first, as this is the second half of a story that really needs the first half in order to make sense!

If that just seems like much too much work, the super quick synopsis is that shortly after my ex left, another man came into my life and "married" me in a wedding that was not even legal.

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A week later, after he had “married" me, he moved in; something that he had wanted to do for a really long time, and something that I had been very resistant to since we hadn't been married. Yet upon his arrival as my co-dweller, to my horror, he proclaimed that he wouldn’t be paying any bills, or helping to clean (since it was my house and not his), that I would be doing most of the cooking since I was his wife, and that although he was excited to start working on fathering another "genetic offspring," that he would no longer be helping to raise my kids since they weren't his.

And I, maybe for the first time, truly found my voice, when I put my foot down and said “no.”

The next night, while I was at work, I got a call from my babysitter who was concerned because The Helper was “moving a lot of stuff out of your house.” I raced home to find him loading his car with not only his belongings, but also mine, my children’s, and the wedding gifts that we had received the week before.

I fell to the grass on my knees and begged him not to go.

It’s one of the most shameful moments of my life, and one that haunted my dreams for years to come; the moment I graveled at the feet of the man who had been scamming me.

The Most Shocking Post I've Ever Written

A few weeks ago I was at the YMCA gym, working hard to tone my butt on the ARC trainer (because why not), and thinking about how nervous I was that it was the first time that my now eight-year-old daughter wasn’t in the kid’s area of the YMCA childcare center. I was nervous as all get-out to have her move up with the older kids (overprotective much?), but she was nothing short of EXCITED.

In fact, the only reason we were at the gym that night was because she had begged me to take her. She knew that in the “big kids room” there was a large TV with bean bag chair viewing, a ping pong table, computers, arts and crafts, and the most fun part to her, was that the kids could check out tablets to play games on.

So, after hearing her beg, whine, and plead for several days on end, we made our way to the YMCA so that she could finally experience the Disneyland version of YMCA childcare; big kid style.

Sweating to death on the ARC trainer, I cursed the timer that seemed to be moving incredibly slow, and then found myself looking around the gym to see if anyone else appeared to be feeling the same level of physical fitness failure that I seemed to be suffering from that night. But what caught my eye was not some random person falling off of a stair climber, but rather the face of my daughter who was standing in the hallway.

She was crying

Well, crying would be putting it mildly, because she was actually at the point where she was hyperventilating. I jumped off the ARC trainer mid stride, and when I met her in the hallway she threw her arms around me and buried her tear streaked face into my side.

When she had calmed down enough for me to talk to the childcare worker who was with her, the story unfolded that when she tried to check out a tablet, she realized that she didn’t have her ID card with her. A childcare worker volunteered to take her to find me so she could get her card, and off they went, to the “gym” where I had said I was going.

But, I wasn’t technically in the gym, I was in the fitness center.

When she didn’t find me in the actual gym, she decided that I must be in a dance class, so they looked there. When I wasn’t there, they checked the spin class, locker rooms, bathroom, and then made their way back to the gym. The track in the gym runs around the enclosed basketball courts, and because of that you can’t see the entire track from the door. So I guess, as the story goes, she thought that I must just be where she couldn’t see me and she started to walk around the track. When she still didn’t see me, she panicked, and before the childcare worker knew what was going on, my tiny eight-year-old girl, wearing braces on her legs and with panic in her heart, started running around the track crying and calling out for me.

When the childcare worker managed to get her off of the track, she told her “my daddy left me, and now my mommy left me too.”

Hearing that CRUSHED me, because it made me realize that after four and a half years, countless hours of trauma therapy, and all the reassurance in the world that I would never leave her, she still harbors the realization that parents aren’t always permanent, and love is not always unconditional.

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On Friday morning I went to court for the dramatic situation that is the unpaid child support that I am owed. Not to beat a dead horse here, but as a SUPER quick recap (click here for the full story) I will remind you that my ex owes me a great deal of money in unpaid support, and after many, many court dates, was finally found guilty in court, and was sentenced to jail. Then the judge decided that jail was too harsh and he would give my ex time to pay me half of what I was owed, in order stay out of jail. My ex said he could pay it in 60 days, and the judge said he would give him 90 days, but here we were, over 90 days later and he still had not paid me.

Per the judge’s order of “Mr. Strong, if you don’t show up with a check you had better show up with a toothbrush,” Mr. Attorney Man assured me that we had a decent shot at my ex being thrown in jail.

I'll Take Insanity For $500

Well, it's that time again. Time to head somewhere that typically just pisses me off and makes me a rather unpleasant person to be around for the 24 hours after I leave said place; mostly because it's a place filled with creepy people, a ridiculous judge, and an ex husband that I despise.

Oh yea, and there was that time Mr. Attorney Man and I almost died there. Not really, but almost. 

Yep, it's time to head back to court again on the never ending quest to get my ex husband to pay child support! Remember how the last time I went to court, a judge found my ex guilty of contempt for not following a court order, and not paying child support? Remember how thrilled I was to hear the verdict, until mere moments later when the judge said "Oh, sorry, struggling single mom of two special needs kids, who has been in front of my bench 15 times in the last four years since your ex never pays you, I'm actually not going to send him to jail. Instead I'm going to give him an extra 90 days to pay you half of what he owes. Because he only has himself to worry about and one job to work and I think that you look capable of getting a few more jobs to take care of your sick and disabled kids when you aren't sitting in a hospital for weeks on end, so just hang in there for a few more months since it's only been four years, and then just take the discounted money and be happy with it OK?"

Photo Courtesy of Giphy.com

Well, he didn't exactly say that, but it was very much implied.

NO.

Not happy.

"You know, Judge, I really only wanted half the money anyway, in case I just wanted to start feeding my children half of what they need and only clothe them halfway."

Photo Courtesy of Giphy.com

I Went To Court, And I Actually Learned Something

The Boy Child started attending a new daycare last week.

To give you a little bit of perspective, he had been going to his previous daycare since he was less than a year old (he started a few months after my ex left), and he is now almost 5. To him, that daycare was a big part of his life. The teachers were his "other mothers," and his classmates were his "other siblings." His nap cot was his 2nd bed, and the facility was his second home. He has eaten there, slept there, played there, learned there, and thrived there for as long as he can remember, and he loved it.

But when everything went down with the states child care funding crisis that threatened my childcare subsidy, and some changes were made at the center with staffing, we needed to find a new place. And I'm not going to lie, it made me really sad, because I've trusted that place with raising both my daughter and my son. They have been there for them when I couldn't be, and until recently, they've done a great job.

So looking for a new center, it was hard! It felt like jumping into the dating world the day after the love of your life breaks up with you. It didn't matter what any of the other places had to offer, none of them were the one we loved; the place we were comfortable with.

But there wasn't much I could do about that, and with my subsidy threatened and a huge staff turnover at the facility, it was time to get moving. I kid you not, I called every damn daycare within a 30 minute radius of my house. I did tour after tour, visiting some places more than once (often with friends), and when the directors would ask me if I had any questions, you had better believe that I had no less than 30. Because this is my child we are talking about here, and if he is going to be "raised" by someone else during the day, then I want to make sure that he is being raised in a place that supports the way I'd like to see him raised.

Hell If I Know!

Last week Mr. Attorney Man asked me if I wanted to meet up with him so that we could chat about everything from the nonprofit to my writing career, and my court case to my financial situation. The idea was to basically knock out all the topics in one sitting rather than drag everything out over a series of hard-to-schedule phone calls.

I declined.

Truthfully, I wasn't sure really what I would say in this meeting, and inevitably I felt like it would be a waste of his time.

He's a busy man, and if there is anything I do know, it's that you don't waste the time of a busy man. But aside from knowing that, I'm really not sure what I do know these days.

For example, three companies that I write for, including Yahoo Parenting, shut down last month, and took with them almost the entirety of my paycheck.

I also found out that I'm losing the childcare subsidy that I have for my son, and because of that and the fact that I can't afford the cost of childcare on the salary that I make, within the next few months I will need to transition into become a working mother without childcare.

How does that even work?

I don't know.

Seriously, hell if I know. 

My Neighbors Called The Police

So I have a confession to make.

Bugs, they make me scream.

It's totally ridiculous and actually pretty funny, but I can't help it — they make me scream. It's not even so much that I'm scared of the bug itself, but more in the way that the bug most likely snuck up on me.

I love scary things. Haunted houses, scary movies, and roller coasters are all right up my ally, but that's in part because I know that I'm about to be scared; I expect and prepare for it. Scared I don't mind, but startled I don't pull off too well because when I get startled I scream. 

Just ask Mr. Attorney Man.

A couple weeks ago I was on the phone with him while I was leaving my house to get The Girl Child from school. I opened the front door to leave and ran face first into a cable salesman that was about to ring my doorbell.

I'm At Least Going To Try

If you remember, in June 2014 I decided to take my Ex back to court for unpaid child support. It was a decision that I had really struggled with because I was nervous to reignite his anger, but the kids and I were really struggling due to his refusal to acknowledge our existence or his court ordered child support payments. 

Eventually I decided that it was in my best interest to take him to court on the issue. I would highly encourage you to go back and read the posts surrounding those dates so that you know what I'm talking about, but for now I'll just put a very large cut and paste here from June of last year: 

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Please be aware that the following is a cut and paste from June 2014

"I’m tired of it. I’m tired of him. I’m tired of seeing things always work out for him while the kids and I struggle so much. Decide to hit your wife? Sure, go for it, no one will care. Decide that you don’t want to be a father anymore? Sure, just walk out the door and never look back. Decide to have your wife raped? Sure, the police aren’t going to do anything about it anyway. Shake your baby? No problem, your wife will dedicate her life to healing him while you just go about your merry way. Decide to stalk her for a few months because it’s all fun and games? 

Absolutely, go for it, you’ll never be prosecuted anyways.

That Is Not My Problem

I'm sure Mr. Attorney Man is going to kill me for sharing this story, but oh well. I'm a fast runner so I think I'll be OK.

Several months ago we had a board member meeting for our nonprofit. Because our board consists of people spread an hour in every direction, it can be a bit challenging to find a time and location that works for everyone.

On this particular day we were to meet at 3:30, about 45 minutes away from where I live. I knew it was going to be a busy day so I had stayed up late the night before getting everything ready for the meeting to ensure that I would be prepared, and then I finally crawled into bed around midnight.

The day of the meeting I woke up early — roughly 5am — because I had a million things to do if I was going to be leaving work early. At 1:30pm I made dinner and put it in the fridge for both kids, then I went and got $45 dollars from the bank to pay the babysitter. At 2:00 I picked The Girl Child up from school (an hour before school lets out) and took her to a friend's house because I had no way of picking her up from school that day. After that I drove to The Boy Child's daycare center where I installed both kids car seat's into my babysitter's car (she works at the daycare) so that she could take The Boy Child home after daycare and pick up The Girl Child on her way.

Finally I started my 45 minute drive to the board meeting.

Mr. Attorney Man And I Almost Died (not really but almost)

Court was… interesting, but not in the way that you might think.

As you know I posted on Monday night that I had JUST found out that I had a court date on Thursday morning to extend my Order of Protection. I was freaking out because this blog was born out of an attack that occurred due to retaliation when I got the initial order. Obviously I didn’t want to go through that again so I had a tough choice to make; risk my life and extend the order, or risk the kid's safety and let it lapse.

I was supposed to let Mr. Attorney Man know on Tuesday if I wanted to extend it or not, but due to a ridiculously busy week and a lot of inner turmoil, Wednesday night snuck up on me and I still had not made a decision. When I got a text from Mr. Attorney Man that basically said “I need an answer from you," I responded back with the only thing that I knew for certain; “how am I supposed to make a decision on something that might get me killed when I haven't had time to make any safety plans?”

In the end it was decided that if my ex showed up we would request a continuance on the case and if he didn't show up, Mr. Attorney Man assured me that the order would be "rubber stamped through" (meaning that it would be automatically extended and I wouldn't have to really talk to the judge) and then it should take a few days before he would even be served with the order, so that would buy me a little time.

I was about as OK with that plan as I was going to be with anything at that point, which really meant “I get that this is my best option but I really just wish that I didn’t have to deal with it at all.”

When I woke up on Thursday morning I felt so unnerved and sick that I gagged on my toothpaste.

I then got ridiculously lost on the way to the courthouse.

I knew that there was some construction going on near the courthouse, so I had planned for it and left my house early, but what I was not expecting was over 6 miles of one-way-street detours that took me through neighborhoods, a construction zone, what appeared to be an abandoned commercial district, and then eventually spit me out clear on the other side of town. When I passed a house with a sofa on the front lawn and a hotel that advertised "we have color TV and waterbeds," I realized that I was in the beginning of every scary movie I had ever seen.

My GPS had gone from continuously telling me to “make a u-turn when possible” to eventually just showing what appeared to be my car floating around in space.

Having A PTSD Crisis Here...

So this morning I texted Mr. Attorney Man to let him know that my Order of Protection expires in a few weeks. Renewing it was something that I had been somewhat pondering but mostly just pushing out of my mind, and I wanted to at least touch base with him and see what it entailed before I really let myself get too worried about it.

His response was absolutely not what I was expecting.

On Losing My Anonymity

We were in the car, all six of us, a few girls that I knew and a couple that I didn’t. We had been in the car for a while when somehow the topic of Botox came up, which immediately segwayed into the topic of plastic surgery. As the girls were commenting on what they considered would be "going to far," eventually the conversation turned to me. I laughed and then said “well hell, I don’t know what kind of judge I would be, I’ve already had a nose job!”

I then braced myself because I knew exactly what was coming next.

Every single head in the car, with the exception of the driver, turned around in their seat to get a better view of my nose.

They all do it, every single time; anyone who has just learned that I had a nose job. They want to see exactly what it looks like — judge the work if you will — and in doing that they most often judge me. I can see it in their eyes before the words even start to stumble out of their mouths. It usually starts with something along the lines of “…..oh… well… wow. I mean it looks great! You can’t even tell… I never would have guessed. I mean no one would ever know.”

And that is just it.

When it comes to nose jobs, people assume that you would never want anyone to know. They assume that having plastic surgery on your face is something that you would be ashamed to admit, that maybe you don’t want anyone to know that you are now “fake pretty” — that you paid to look like this.

There seems to just be something inherently shameful about admitting that what people see might not be the “real” you.

Plus, there’s something culturally shameful about admitting to being vain and that’s the only reason people have “nose jobs,” right?

I get it. I 100% get it.

If you remember, I had the surgery done to correct a nose that was first broken when I took a knee to the nose as a child — a break that literally shoved my entire nose upwards and instantly created a large bump. It was broken several more times over the course of my lifetime and eventually settled leaning off to the left side of my face.

And This Is What Has Kept Us Busy

So, do you want to know what has been keeping me (and Mr. Attorney Man) busy?

Fighting with my state.

The child support office has STILL been withholding my child support payments, since last August! AN ENTIRE YEAR!!!!!

I don't want to delve into the entire story again, so if you are new to this blog I would suggest clicking here and after you read that one, click here before going on. That should catch you up.

But anyway, yes, so the child support office has continued to withhold my money, which makes absolutely no sense because what they do is based off a court order; a court order that they themselves have entered into the system wrong, but my case worker sucks, and has refused to look at the court order.

I'm not even kidding.

I've called her, Mr. Attorney Man has called her, and all she does is insult us. She told me that "as a little white girl" I should just get a better job and that Mr. Attorney Man shouldn't even have a law license. She then informed us that "you are free to haul my ass into court and I'll tell that judge how to do his job," because she knows that she has governmental immunity.

Legally she is protected and we can't take her to court.

Eventually I went to my state representative, state senator, and house republic leader. I provided them with copies of the court orders and a timeline of what had been going on, and they were FLOORED. They couldn't believe what was going on and made it their personal mission to help me.

Unfortunately they didn't get very far.

How ridiculous.

Because the child support office is protected by government laws, they weren't able to do anything either. We even re-wrote the court order with the child support states attorney and that didn't help.

Finally I went to the newspaper.

When some higher-ups found out about it, things started moving along. 

A conference call took place between Mr. Attorney Man, a big wig at the child support office in my state capital, a political leader, and myself. 

At first the child support big wig was less than pleased to be on the phone with us. In fact his conversation started with "I hear that you have been upset with the way your caseworker is handling the case, but we are well within our rights to be withholding Ms. Strong's money." But as the conversation went on and he realized that he was operating off an invalid court order, and that my caseworker had refused to enter my new order (and all of my issues were based upon the fact that they were erroneously working off of an invalid order), his tune changed quickly.

Everything was handed over to the state's legal department and a week later I received word that the new order was in the system, no more money would be withheld, I would be receiving a check for everything that was wrongly withheld from me, and that my caseworker had been placed on probation.

YAY!!!!

I got a refund check (which I turned around and handed right over to Mr. Attorney Man, boo hiss), but then a week later the stupid child support office defaulted the order in their system back to the wrong one, and they started withholding my money again.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?

Three weeks later and I still haven't been able to get anyone to fix it.

I am SO ready to move on from this, not only because it's financially killing me and incredibly stressful, but because I have other things that I would rather be doing!!

In fact, here are a few of the other things that have been keeping me busy:

A few friends and I, including The Platonic Hubby, went to our town's free (I love free!) Patriotic Festival.

Another Look Inside My Phone

I was clearing out the texts and emails on my phone the other day and I realized that it had been a while since I had given you a peek in here, so eh, why not? 

For some reason none of my computer editing software allows me to crop screen shots so please excuse the haphazard sloppy pics, it was the best I could do unless I cropped them all on my phone and quite frankly, I don't have that much time, especially when I've been busy dealing with things like this:

Speaking of problems, let's talk about autocorrect problems. #itsarealthing

I'm the ugly peach color speech bubbles!

Sometimes though, I can't even blame autocorrect for the stupid shit I say. For example, I try and message each of my nonprofit board members every couple of weeks just to tell them that I hope they have a great day. Well this particular board member texted back saying thank you and that I was "incredible." Here is my total failure in replying back.

That Time I Handed A Duffle Bag Full Of Cash To A Dude In A Parking Lot

A couple weeks ago I was lying on the couch, a glass of wine in hand, and I was watching the movie "The Lincoln Lawyer." There's a scene in that movie where the main character — the lawyer — is in his car when his client pays him using a large envelope of cash. I found myself giggling because you can't get anymore straight edged when it comes to how seriously Mr. Attorney Man takes his career and his license (rightfully so), so the thought of him handling a business transaction out of the back of a car was kind of funny.

I like funny.

I drank a little more wine, laughed a bit more to myself, and when I went to bed that night an idea was already rolling around in my head as I thought about the money that I was supposed to be paying Mr. Attorney Man the very next week.

Oh what perfect timing!

Are you getting excited yet?

I was.

Your Legal Questions Answered

Hey, guess who finally got around to answering all of your questions? Mr. Attorney Man! Below I am pasting the unedited and uncut word document sent directly from the man himself, with the exception that I added in a few pictures. Although he writes a good post, the dude only sent me three pictures... all of his office. So if you wanted to see part of his face or anything, you'll have to jump back here.

If you asked a legal question, it will be in the first half of this post. If the legal jargon bores you, skip to the second half of the post for his answers to what he referred to as "the mushy gushy stuff." I will say, I'm almost embarrassed to post this, he was much too kind to me in his answers.

Brace yourselves, this is a long one! (And you thought that I talked a lot).