You Won't Believe What This Divorced Parent Did With Their Vacation Time (And Why Nobody Actually Cares)
Ever notice how divorced parents treat custody agreements like religious texts, sacred and immutable—until they're inconvenient? Then suddenly they're more like pirate codes: "more what you'd call guidelines than actual rules." The cosmic joke of co-parenting lies not in the agreements themselves but in the delusion that any of it fucking matters in a universe spiraling toward heat death.
I found out he can adjust the dates up until May 15, and he won't admit to it (I have a copy of his girlfriend's parenting plan). In addition, I would like to clarify the only time I need to give up is for a work trip that is out of my control. My personal trip is on my non-parenting time, but I would have to cancel it to see my daughter for a few extra days before I don't see her for almost 2 weeks (except for 1 day). I appreciate all of the insights, but I don't know if I'm an asshole because I want to protect my parenting time with my daughter knowing I have a busy few weeks and travel required.
My ex reached out asking to take our daughter on a vacation, unsure of where to go and unsure of the exact travel dates, but probably Florida June 20-26. He will have her starting on June 18 due to his normal parenting schedule. I have a planned personal trip starting on June 18, and then have a work trip starting on June 28. Because of his request for me to give up the 24th and 25th to take her on this trip, and my work trip requires me to give up 3.5 days as well, I will only see her for 1-2 days in a span of 2.5 weeks.
In addition, our parenting agreement states that vacation requests cannot exceed 7 days, including any regular parenting time. Which he would be in violation of (6/18-6/26). And I can't take her the days before his trip, because I made personal plans to be out of town and can't change the dates (6/18-6/21). In addition, his initial request didn't point this out, so he didn't even read the agreement to make sure his request was compliant when he asked.
I told him I want to be flexible, but I can't and I don't want to go so long without seeing my daughter. He claims his dates are "locked in" and can't be moved. Which really means, his girlfriend agreed on the dates with her ex-husband (they don't seem to get along at all), but he didn't communicate anything to me until after they were finalized.
I did send the email thread to my lawyer, we have plans to go to mediation next month because he wants his parenting schedule to match his girlfriend's, and I'm not comfortable with that - also, my daughter sleeps on an air mattress at her house and has for months, which my ex won't do anything about until they move in later this summer. But that's a side issue to this one....
I told him I won't give him the days due to being in violation of our agreement and my concern about not seeing my daughter enough within the timeframe. Am I being an asshole about this?
The Existential Shitshow Analysis
Let's dissect this festering corpse of human relationships, shall we? We have two biological contributors to a small human—one desperately clinging to "parenting time" like it's oxygen in the vacuum of space, the other treating custody agreements like à la carte menus at a restaurant they can't afford. Both trapped in a perpetual dick-measuring contest disguised as "what's best for the child."
The first player—our protagonist—clutches their "agreement" with the white-knuckled grip of someone hanging from a cliff edge. "Seven days maximum!" they cry, as if the arbitrary number was handed down from Mount Sinai rather than scribbled by a family court lawyer billing $400 an hour. Meanwhile, their personal trip—that conveniently sacred commitment—sits untouchable like a virgin sacrifice on an altar. Funny how the inflexibility virus only infects certain calendar blocks, isn't it?
Then we have the ex, that magnificent bastard, finalizing vacation plans with the girlfriend's ex-husband's schedule in mind—a Byzantine system of relationship chess that would make Machiavelli reach for antacids. "The dates are locked in," he proclaims, which translates in human-speak to "I already promised my girlfriend, and I'd rather disappoint my child than face her wrath." The daughter, meanwhile, sleeps on an air mattress like some unwanted houseguest in a sitcom, a literal metaphor for her importance in this adult game of Relationship Jenga.
The most delicious irony in this shit sandwich? Both parents are desperately seeking validation for their position in the same way that medieval peasants sought divine signs in chicken entrails. "Am I the asshole?" asks our protagonist, not because they want an actual answer, but because they need the comforting blanket of righteousness to sleep at night. They've already decided they're right—they just need the internet to pat them on the head and say, "There, there, your selfishness is actually noble."
But let's face the fucking facts: this isn't about the daughter. It's about control. It's about winning. It's about using a child as an emotional support animal while pretending it's about "quality time." If seeing your kid for only 1-2 days in 2.5 weeks is such an apocalyptic scenario, why schedule a personal trip during your parenting time in the first place? It's like crying about hunger while setting your sandwich on fire.
And the ex wants his schedule to match his girlfriend's? What a beautiful tapestry of bullshit. Blending families by force-fitting them together like mismatched Lego pieces from different sets. The child bounces between homes like a ping-pong ball in a tournament of incompetence, her stability about as solid as that fucking air mattress she sleeps on.
The Void Stares Back Conclusion
In the grand cosmic joke of existence, these petty squabbles are less significant than ant wars in your backyard. The parents construct elaborate moral frameworks to justify their selfishness while the universe continues its indifferent expansion. The child will grow up, therapists will be paid, and the cycle will continue like a snake eating its own tail until the sun engulfs the earth.
The real assholes? All of us. Every last one. For pretending any of this has meaning beyond the temporary dopamine hit of being "right." For constructing these elaborate charades of morality when we're all just monkeys with smartphones and divorce lawyers.
Summary for the Existentially Challenged
Co-parents fighting over vacation schedules while child sleeps on air mattress. Mom won't give up days because "agreement says so" but has her own trip planned. Dad made plans without checking. Both claim to care about kid while prioritizing themselves. Nobody wins except the lawyers. 🤡 Child grows up with trust issues. 💔 Everyone dies eventually anyway. ⚰️ The end.
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