Chocolate, a cup of tea, a chat with my beloved Barry and I’m feeling good. Let’s start at the beginning shall we? So you can catch up.

I had a lunchtime meeting today with Baby Daddy, to discuss Daughter Number Two. After much tut-tuting from him about my tattoo I told him I was going to be relocating, and that while my first choice was always going to be taking Daughter Number Two with me, I understood he had the right to not allow her to leave. Baby Daddy drew himself up in his chair and with gravity announced ‘I am ready to step up, Kate. But only to 3 1/2 days per week. I only want shared care of her.’ Nonplussed, I hesitated before saying ‘But where would she be the other 3 1/2 days?’ To which he responded that she would be with me. I repeated that I wished to relocate and shared care, as he was suggesting it, would not be possible. There were only two choices – to let Daughter Number Two go with me, or assume full-time care of her. Baby Daddy looked at me: ‘But Kate, I have mental health issues. How do you think I would go with her?’ I replied that I did not know, that I also have mental health issues, and that my preference would always be to take Daughter Number Two with me, but that if he refused to let her go then he would have to assume full-time care of her. Again he repeated that he was only willing to have her 3 1/2 days a week maximum. AGAIN I repeated that was not a choice available to him. Baby Daddy started to bluster that I’d have to make a case in court. I demurred; I would not take Daughter Number Two without his permission, so there would be no need for court. We went around like this at least four times, with Baby Daddy clearly of the mistaken opinion that he still has control over where I call home. He could not grasp that his suggestion of 50/50 was not on the table at all, nor did he seem clear that I had any choice about accepting his best offer. I decided to cut my losses and allow things to sink in for a while.

As I prepared to take my leave I remarked ‘You know, Baby Daddy, I wouldn’t even be discussing this with you were I not sure it was the right thing for me to be doing.’ He responded ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t Kate, you’ve hardly spoken to me at all in the last six months and I don’t think it has benefitted either of us’. And I thought ‘Living my own life, not being at your beck and call, making my own decisions, not being controlled by you – I can see how you may not have benefitted, but actually it’s working pretty well for me, thanks.’

Afterwards my lovely friend Barry the cab driver took me home. Barry is all around good value and could not be more supportive of me. We understand each other, and he is someone whose opinion I trust, as he is never less than honest with me. That he is excited for me , and has promised to visit so we may continue our mutual appreciation society means so much to me.

The difference, one of many I hope, between Baby Daddy and myself is that I will go all the way. People who truly know me understand this about me. I don’t make empty threats or promises, as he is wont to do. After all these years of listening to his bluster I’ve finally pulled back the curtain, and there he is, a wizened and weak little man.

No one else can help me find my way home; it has been within me all along. I knew those ruby slippers would come in handy someday!



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