All is right with the world

I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on TV. I am not a football star, a race car driver, a police officer, a teacher, a pilot, a garbage man, or the President of the United States. I am pretty good at my job, like to write and have thought about penning a book, and enjoy tinkering with my model trains and cars in my spare time. I have a mind for math but am so glad my career doesn't require Algebra. I can shoot a mean game of pool and throw darts with anyone. I like to think of myself as a great brother, good friend, wonderful boyfriend/fiancee, and the type of son that makes my father proud. But none of it has ever come as naturally as the one truth I know about myself. I was put on this Earth to be my boys Dad.

There was once a time when I knew the best place for my three sons was with their mother. When we separated, I told everyone that I would leave them with her so she could get max child support and so their lives were not disrupted any more than they needed to be. And while those reasons were valid and true, I also needed to go rebuild my life and figure out how to set the best example for them I possibly could. I made terrible mistakes, stumbled along the way, and hit the bottom hard before I began to climb the mountain again. I remember John-Michael telling me that it seemed as though everyone and everything was more important to me than they were. Those words cut me deeply. I realized I needed to take a step back in order to head in the right direction. A bitter pill to swallow, but one I had to take none the less. Now, standing on top of that mountain, I understand that all the bad decisions and difficult moments were worth it.

Yesterday morning, in a small mediation room on the third floor of the Franklin County Courthouse, my ex-wife swallowed that pill for herself. With a little hesitation, she signed the agreement that allows my guys to live with me permanently. Having lost her home and nearly everything she owns by her own actions, or lack there of, she has hit rock bottom. Finally, for the first time, she is putting the best interests of the boys above her own. It is a hard place to be in. I know, I was there not long ago myself. And while I feel bad that she is in that place, it is her place to be in. She did this to herself, and now must figure it out. I hope she does, because in the long run it is best for the boys to have a normal, healthy relationship with both of their parents. However, I cannot worry about that now. I am too busy celebrating the fact that my guys are home.

They will wake up in their own rooms. They will have sleep overs and friends in the back yard and family dinners at my table, where we will say grace and best part/worst part every night. They will go to school everyday, and when the bell rings they will come home, to the home Tiffany and I have built for them. Of course, their mother will still see them, as the standard custody agreement allows. And I would never keep them from her. But they are home, to stay. What better Christmas Present could any parent ever ask for than that?

As I left the courthouse yesterday, I could not help but think how different it felt. Many times I have made the walk from that building to the old City Center parking garage feeling like I had been punched in the gut. From the separation to the divorce and custody hearings, our court system favors the mother. And I had been knocked down every time I went into that place before by a judge who still thinks it is 1957. But as I made that walk yesterday, there was a feeling of vindication. A feeling of celebration. And a feeling that all is right with the world.

Today is Tanner's 9th birthday. I get to pick him up from school and have a little party for him tonight.

Day # 617.  It is effin awesome to be me!

Have a great day everyone...................


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