Had interesting exchange of text messages last night, but before I go there there's this: 
A couple days ago I was presented with another "suggestion." If I was to buy into the current narrative that the 16 year old girl who Christy took on their vacation to Jamaica was not their 24 year old Josh's girlfriend, but actually Kaylee's "friend"...then I Christy would set up a therapy session in which April and I could attend. Keep in mind my wife and I are still attending therapy with Christy's therapist and keeping her updated with the situation. 
Ummm...No. I am sticking with the truth. Josh's girlfriend is 16 years old and I am being punished for saying so. 

Last night I had an interesting exchange of Facebook inbox messages and texts. They were immediately accusatory and it was obvious that the person had made up their mind about something that she has only heard one side of the story and that the person was not familiar with how parental alienation works. It was odd how out of the blue I heard from this person and the level of animosity which her messages conveyed. Right away Tammy and I wondered if she had been recruited by my ex -or-  my sister-in-law. 


Later on that night, when it was confirmed that she had been recruited, it became obvious that stating facts and encouraging her to read about parental alienation was a waste of time. She had been duped, acted upon it, and then it is hard to step back and apologize for over-reacting.
 My wife and I decided to forgive her because this is how alienators work. 
In the meantime, its going on a month that we haven't been allowed to see April. 

For the first time in April's life, I am not sharing her first day of school experience with her. Its heartbreaking. I couldn't be there, Ever since her first experience at pre-school, I have been there. I remember so vividly her first day of kindergarten. In Mrs. Bxxxxx's class. How she had to assure me that April would be ok and that it was only a half a day. Her mother wasn't there.
  

Sometimes I won't feel like writing much. I just have a question: Why would someone tell a 13 year old child that her father loves her older sister more than he loves her? It baffle me beyond any reason. And it kills me that our daughter will have to deal with this for a long time. Shame on you. 

In 6 years of gymnastics, I have been to every single gymnastics meet, except one, maybe two. In addition, I have driven 2 hours to see our daughter practice every weekend, then driven 2 hours back with her and sometimes even without April on those occasions when her mother has refused to let me visit because she needed a babysitter or I have had the nerve to ask that she do some of the driving.  I have paid for her gymnastics every single month. I have bought her countless leotards, grips, sweats, gym bags, and hair scrunches to match her performance leotards. For 6 years I have sat through 3 hour long practices on plastic patio chairs recently, or on the bench when her team practiced in Grace Bible church. Sometimes I simply stand or even sit on the floor, always grateful to be there. 

After the trophy awards I make sure I snap a picture of her holding her trophy As we drive her home from her meets her sisters get to hold her trophy, pass it around. They love it, they beam as if they had just won it themselves. 

Sometimes I drive her straight back to her mothers’ house. Parked in the driveway, I set the trophy on the dash and take a handful of picture of it rotating the camera at different angles. Someday, we will make a collage of April and her trophies. For now we have the memories of her doing her “gymnast salute” while holding her trophy up high, her medals hanging from her  neck.

Her mother has only been to 4 Saturday practices in 6 years (and on two of those occasions it was simply to keep me from picking up our daughter from gymnastics), and never has she stayed for the duration of the practices.  

Christy had rarely attended April’s gymnastics meets in the past. Only recently has she been attending with any kind of semi-regularity and displayed any desire to attend her meets, most-assuredly because we had pending court hearings. I had to file a court action two years ago when Christy, again, was not allowing me to see April. 

April is an excellent gymnast and has amassed a huge collection of hard-earned trophies and numerous ribbons. Not one at our home. They are all at her mother’s house. A while ago, after one of the many meets where Christy had not attended, we drove home to our home in La Quinta. It was a 3-day weekend. April of course had placed, first, second or third, I forget which one but, she had received a trophy. The meets are the same year after year. There is the Pajama meet, The Aerials Meet, the Crystal meet..etc.  Sometimes the trophies are the same year to year. This one was the same as last years. Malia, Jaida and Sophie celebrate along with April when she receives a trophy. It’s cute to see them take pictures with them. Even now when Malia and Jaida themselves are competing and earn their own trophies, they still get a kick out of their big sister’s trophies.

Malia and Jaida had started to amass their own little collection of trophies and ribbons. We have a shelf in the toy room just for that. On this particular 3 day weekend, one of the girls asked if April could place her trophy next to where theirs were in the toy room. April didn’t seem have a problem with it and agreed without giving it a second thought, saying that she already has a trophy just like that one at home. I placed April’s trophy right in the middle of Malia and Jaida’s trophies. 

Christy called on Sunday asking when April would be home. I reminded her that it was a 3-day weekend and braced myself for her response. It has always been the norm for Christy at this time, to recite all the reasons why “that won’t work” and April needed to be home.  She has homework. She didn’t clean her room. She has laundry to do. She needs to refill the Guinea pig’s bowl with water. 

I stayed silent for a while gaging what kind of mood Christy was in and at the same time wondering if maybe would could go up a day early and visit my sister. I decided to tell her how well April did at her meet and avert her attention from her pathology. The diversion worked. Christy forgot about the urgency of having April home that Sunday, but then she asked about what place she came in. But unfortunately drew her attention to April’s trophies. 

“Okay, well you can keep her for another day, I guess,” then she added, “but don’t forget to bring my little trophies home.” She actually said, my little trophies.

On Monday, I snuck into the toy room and grabbed April’s trophy.  I have learned to pick my battles.

I have never complained about not having any of April’s trophies at our home. I am not complaining now. If April ever won a Gold Medal Christy could have it to show her friends. I don’t need to display them to know my daughter is a champion with a heart of gold. 

I don’t get to hang up her ribbons  and trophies on the walls of our home alongside her 2 sister’s ribbons and trophies.  But that’s ok, I don’t need them. That doesn’t matter to me. 

Because what I do have is this:

I have countless memories, digital and mental photographs and movies of her growth, challenges, and gymnastics accomplishments. 

I have the countless times that she has looked up at me when she has nailed a move, stuck a landing, or just because I am her father and I am there. 

I have the photographs and fond memories of her with her gymnastics friends. 

What bothers me isn’t even that her Christy says that the reason that her trophies and ribbons all belong with her mother in her home is that my home is not April’s real home. My home is only a place she visits, her mother repeatedly says. 

What seems monumentally wrong to me, what I know to be wrong with every cell of my being is that after years of hearing this, our daughter now believes it to be true. 

April says that she has one real home-her mother’s home and that she visits us only because she has to. 

And now she doesn’t even have to do that. 

Here we are half way through August and so much has happened. There has been an emergency hearing (Ex Parte) that I found out about on Aug 6th. My wife and I secured a sitter last minute and were in court first thing on August 7th. 
To no one's surprise the Judge quickly denied the Ex Parte. 
So you would think we would be able to rest assured that we would be able to pick up April on the following Friday after gymnastics. After all, we have a court order. 
Well, if you are familiar with how an alienator works, you know that a court-order is not going to stop them. I was prevented from picking up our daughter once again. 
Christy showed up with an entourage (Her sister, a lady named Nicole, and her husband Michael) to prevent me from picking up our daughter. They all stood surrounding April in case April decided that she wanted to come with her father and little sisters anyway. 
then there were the text messages gloating about the fact that I wasn't allowed to see April. 
Then there was...well, Just click here for an update of what our month has been like so far.
God, I pray Christy realizes what damage she is doing soon. 

A few days ago, I called our daughter at home. After the usual obstacles that I experience when I call the mother's house phone -- the rudeness, the scoffs, the sarcasm-- a young woman told me Megan was not available. When I asked if she knew where she was, to my surprise the voice on the other end answered that Megan was with her mother. After I asked who I was speaking to, she told me it was none of my business. I asked to speak to an adult and she repeated it to whomever was there and shortly afterwards, someone simply hung up the phone. No adult ever came to the phone. 
I then called her mother's cell phone. No one answered. 

I pulled into our driveway,  after driving home from my men’s group grateful for two things. One is my children. At times I catch myself, but for the most part I am unaware that I turn off the car, unlatch my seat-belt, and set the parking break in one swift motion and immediately I am in the house. I am either greeted equally enthusiastically by my wife and children --or—by no one and need to proceed quietly into the living room. My role is to act like I am surprised to find everyone asleep in the living-room. I tiptoe around them as to not wake them up, when suddenly,

"BOO!"  “Boo!” And then a little behind cue, “boo,” from Sophie.

Sophie, Malia, Jaida, and mom pop up and they all erupt in giggles. "Bunch of Fakers!" I say  and then I go on about how they faked me out as I collect hugs and kisses. I would say that this is the best part of my day, but there are so many more that I am blessed with that I could never single any one out.

The other thing I am grateful for is my wife, Tammy. She is my rock and guide. Offering me strength and direction. I count on her to be there for me and she always is. She always is.

Except, yesterday.

I walked in but was greeted by quiet hello’s. Malia and Jaida waved at me from the toy room. Sophie ran up to me and whispered, “hi daddy” and gave me a hug.

Sometimes Tammy will pretend she is asleep when I come home as well. She is a dork and a kid at heart and I love that about her. Someone once told me they love Tammy because she is so genuine, the real deal amongst other things. I agree.

My wife was sleeping on the loveseat. She was in such a contorted position that I was sure she was faking it. She couldn’t possibly be comfortable I thought.  I said, “Big faker” and moved closer for my hug and kiss.

She didn’t move. It was odd that she was sleeping at this time.

Tammy looked pale. Where just days before she had been complimented on her tan she now looked a sickly white. I became immediately concerned. This was barely days after we had talked to Christy and she had said that Megan doesn’t want anything to do with us and that Christy was supporting Megan in any decision to stay away from us regardless of what the court order says. Then she placed Megan on the phone and Megan repeated the same thing. That night I stayed up all night. Tammy fell asleep on the loveseat at about 3 in the morning. She had been tired ever since, we both have. So, as uncomfortable as she looked sleeping there on a loveseat that even Jaida has outgrown, I decided against asking her to move to our bedroom. I know we are both emotionally drained.

And now I let my concern turned to indignation.  How could someone do this? What is wrong with person that they could do this?

About 2 and half years ago I spoke with fellow alienation survivor who was having a support group at his home in area for alienated parents. He shared his opinion of the most important thing to do when you find yourself in this nightmare: take care of you. He said he personally ran all the time. Running until his lungs ached cleared his mind and made things bearable. “Bearable,” he said, “is the best that you can hope for.”

 He had lost two teen aged daughters to an alienating mother. I remember thinking that my situation wasn’t that bad and feeling sorry for him. After all, I still had hope at that time and either way I wasn’t settling for a life of bearable.

I went back to check on the girls in the toy room. I love that they are all smiling all the time. They were playing house. All three of them will make very good mothers one day.

When I made my way back to the living room Tammy shifted her body on the loveseat. Tammy had been in her head the last few days. I could see it and resisted for the most part the temptation to ask her what was on her mind. When I do ask her what was on her mind, she simply shook her head, “It’s sick.” She says.

I wait for her to add more, but I know exactly what she means. Nothing more needs to be said. I fight the need to say which part because I know it’s all sick. It’s beyond sick, it’s vile.

I do worry about her. I have said this before, I think she is taking it harder than I am and I still think that it’s true. I have been keeping myself busy with putting together a website and gathering all the documentation and any examples of alienating behavior. It’s both hard work and tedious. Having to listen to Christy’s rants and sorting through years of text messages I have to fight the urge to try to make sense of the craziness of it all. When I see a text that says one thing and then she states the complete opposite you would think Christy would experience some cognitive dissonance and pause long enough to say, wait a second, that doesn’t make any sense. But that last part would make sense.

I don’t use the word "hate" much but, I hate seeing my wife heartbroken.

I remind her to drink lots of water and that she needs to eat even if she is sick to her stomach. She tried going to the gym to release some stress but she had a hard time. This morning she had an egg and a few bites of bacon before she pushed her plate away.

Later in the day, I was reminded her how everything was as it should be. Trying to convince each other that we will be ok. Talking about our girls and Corben helps. Corben. To say Corben is a shining light in dark times is kind of melodramatic, I know. But that is what comes to mind.

We try to focus on the good. Tammy slightly lifts up her shirt to reveal her mid-section and says, “and look.” I know immediately what she is referring to, I have noticed I have lost some weight as well, but not in a healthy way and it is not something I am excited about. She looks great but now I am a little more worried. She doesn’t need to lose any weight especially not like this. I smile and tell her she looks great. 

Tammy did say this morning that she believes that she is the target. I agree and disagree with her. I know that I am the major perceived threat to Christy for some reason. But then again there is the way Christy seems to get pleasure out of the fact that Tammy and Megan’s once incredible relationship is gone. The way Christy refers to Tammy as “your little wife” with such complete disdain in her voice is so revealing. The way Christy says that Megan really enjoys spending some alone time with me every Thursday when I drive down to see her and then Christy adds that this is how it was before Tammy was around. The way Christy gloats and says, “I guess Tammy must not be the great mom everyone thinks she is if Megan doesn’t like her.” It’s disturbing, but not surprising to me. I know what I am dealing with.  

But, the thing of it is that our family will be ok. I remind Tammy that there is always a silver lining. That we need to believe what we say to each other and that everything happens for a reason. I found my silver lining. There is more than one. It’s to appreciate all our children even more if that’s possible. It’s to help bring awareness to this horrible malady that is inflicting our children; the real victims. It is to re-focus on this issue of parental alienation because after our court custody battle ended I became complacent and let myself believe that my nightmare had ended. But I know now that it isn’t over and it may never be. Our daughter has said and done things that leave no doubt in my mind that she has been brainwashed. Christy has succeeded in destroying our relationship. The saddest part of this ordeal is that Christy doesn’t see the damage that she has done to Megan any more than she sees the damage that was done by not encouraging that Kaylee have a relationship with her father, and by doing the same with Josh and his father.   

I am doing this for a number of reasons.

But one of them is this. I cannot be content with having experienced this and not doing something to work towards bringing awareness and eradicating this. I have to share my story.

I have a wonderful support group and I get inspiration and hope from wherever I can. My family, my friends, my men’s group and the many, many websites filled with thousands of stories very much like mine. I will survive because of those things and because of my wife and all my children. I will be alright. My life will be better than bearable.

But then there’s this, in my research of parental alienation I have found hundreds of stories eerily similar to mine. They are all equally heart breaking. I feel mostly for the parents out there, men or women, who don’t have a strong support group or the tools needed to survive this plight. The single mothers out there who have to live with a part of them that is supposed to always love them unconditionally but instead who loathe them. The men who had no one else in their lives but their children and now have to live their lives wondering if their sons or daughters ever have a decent thought about them. These tormented souls are in my prayers every night. I wish for them the best. I wish for them that they may find their lives, at the very least, bearable.

The good news is that the Ex Parte order to have all my visitation with Megan blocked has been denied! The bad new is, that this is parental alienation that we are talking about. Court orders (like the very detailed and specific one that we agreed on last 6 months ago) are regularly disregarded. This Ex Parte for custody modification was merely a way to block all my access with our daughter legally. But before we rejoice, keep in mind that this doesn't mean that I will get to see our daughter anytime soon even though our court order says that we are to pick her up on Friday.

My wife, Tammy came in and woke me with a cup of coffee. We have been having a hard time sleeping so we listen to an audiobook or music to fall asleep. Last night I fell asleep with my phone playing and my battery died. Knowing that I need my phone for work, Tammy switched her phone battery with mine. 
Malia is sitting in the living room doing her nails. Sophie is sitting up in her Spongebob chair with her feet up watching Cars 2. 
Lately, it feels like we have had a death in the family. So, personally, I have been hugging them and kissiing them even more. I listening even more intently, to every utterance that they share watching their body language, the way their faces get really animated when they talk. Malia, just came up to me and said, the most beautiful thing in the world and my eyes welled up. She said, "Dad, did you know that today was National Waterman Day??" 
"wow, sweetheart, I had no idea."
Yep, I'm gonna paint my nails like watermelons."
Love my family!