I don’t want her messing up my rug!

She torn the top layer of skin off her big toe, because she had a band aid on it for too long due to another wound. The skin and died and peeled, but it was sore underneath. I put antibiotic cream on it and let it air out. But when she was with him, he put a band aid on it again…the sticky side on the open wound. Of course, when she took it off, it again peeled her skin even more. When I mentioned it to him, he said, “I don’t want her messing up my rug.” He told her it would cost $1,000 to clean the rugs. He didn’t say that to me, but he did offer the cleanliness of his rug as if it were a valid excuse! I pointed out that the ointment was on top of her foot and if he kept putting band aids on it it would likely get infected. After that, he let her toe air, and it quickly healed. God forbid she might get ointment on his rug! What’s important is how his floor looks and how that reflects on him. What’s raw skin that can’t heal compared to that?

“Wish we lived in another state…

…so we could be together all the time.” This is what she said to me as I was driving to meet her dad. It’s hard, but she’s learning a lot. Therapy is going to be good for her. She made an observation the other week when she was misbehaving toward a friend of hers, that she was really angry inside. She said that she had a lot about her dad that she hadn’t expressed at the time, and that she realized now she was taking it out on her friend. Such awareness is priceless. Each day goes by and I think more and more how important she is to me. Some day, I told her, when you are old enough to legally choose where you want to be, you can decide then and you won’t feel so powerless. Maybe she’ll choose at that time to be with her dad more or just as much…but I doubt it. He finds little ways to alienate her every day.

Update

Well, I’ve been away a while. A really bad storm swept through my area and my internet was down for almost a week. Plus, I just needed to take some time off. Finally got her in for some one-on-one counseling with a therapist. It was great. She drew a picture of her father as a little irate devil with horns and tail. She drew me as a larger figure with a flowing gown saying, “You don’t know how to treat a kid” to the devil. She drew herself in the middle with a confused and sad look on her face. At first she was shy, but once she got started, she couldn’t stop talking. My attention and time is being taxed right now, but I will be more diligent about spending time here. I need it! Hang in there. It will get better.