A little anxiety

In my ex's attempt to continue to control me, he requested that I undergo a Court Ordered Vocational Evaluation. (Insert eerie music here...)

February 29th, 2008 was the last day of my employment at the Interior Design firm that I had worked at for seven years. I was terminated because I was "circling the toilet" and that I would do better "working part-time at Ethan Allen". Nice. This, after busting my ass for this company for years. I was a single mom who had to drive an hour in rush hour traffic both ways to pick up and drop off at daycare and that was not acceptable even with working from home after hours. But OK. No problem. I had several interviews set up and I was in the process of trying to start my own interior design company. Unfortunately, this was the beginning of the recession and it turned out the the construction and interior design industries were really the sorry lumps circling the toilet. The jobs in interior design were few and far between and either I was over-qualified, the job was not in my area of expertise and every single one had a stack of 50 resumes in the file with more coming in every day. They were not interested in hiring a single mom of a special needs child who needed to come and go to drop off and pick up from preschool four days a week. They wanted fresh new meat that they could work until bleeding and would accept an annual salary of $27,000.00 with no over-time.

So. Time for PLAN B.

I have always wanted to be a nurse. I looked into nursing schools, but the time commitment and the tuition were just too great. I looked at getting my Master's Degree in Oriental Medicine & Acupuncture. Again - the costs were astronomical and it would be three years of my life that I really needed to dedicate to my then two year old, developmentally delayed little boy. Brainstorm. What could I do that would earn a respectable and responsible wage that I could schedule around Payton's preschool and his schedule? What could I do that would bring my insanely high stress level down so I could be a functional happy parent to my baby? I chose Massage Therapy. I could get my license and get to work making around $40.00 to $60.00 an hour plus tips and commission or I could work on my own for substantially more. I could bring home enough money to pay the bills, save up for a home and still have the freedom of scheduling to benefit Payton. Perfect.

Unfortunately, the ex does not think so. He feels that since I have a degree in Interior Design that that is the field that I need to be working in. I have a little bit of news for him. There are ZERO interior design jobs available in the San Diego area. Can I just say that again? Z. E. R. O. Big zilch. None. Nada. Nothing. Not on CalJOBS.com, not on Monster.com, not on InteriorDesignJobs.com, not on Craigslist.com. But guess what??? My last search for Massage Therapy positions revealed 140 of them. Let me spell that out. One hundred and forty Massage Therapy positions are available. I'm sorry. I made the right choice.

So back to this Court Ordered Vocational Evaluation...

It's scheduled for April 27th. I have to go meet with an evaluator who is supposedly this amazing guru of the job search. I have no doubt that is the case and I will walk in to that appointment with my head held high and an open mind. My lawyer is actually stoked for me to go. He said to be as honest as possible.

So what's the hang up here, you ask? What's the deal? Why the anxiety?

There are pages and pages of forms to fill out. I need to give her copies of my resumes and my tax returns. I need to turn in my job search records. I have to give her a picture? Huh? I have to list what my "standard of living" was when I was married and I have to say what I think I can do to make my standard of living the same now as it was then.

Fine. I have perfectly poised and professional resumes for both Interior Design and Massage Therapy and all of my completed marketing collateral and my Menu of Services. I have my job searches and contacts. I have a stellar photo of myself. I have my school transcripts and the contacts where I have been working on a shift basis in Massage Therapy. Tax returns? No problem. The sticking point comes with this "standard of living" thing. Really?

What defines a Standard of Living? I think it is a completely personal choice. For my ex, everything is about "looking good". The nice car with the GPS and leather interior, the $1,900.00 a month apartment, spending over $1000.00 a month on food, eating out and entertainment, the designer clothing, rounds of golf at the best courses, sending your child to full-time daycare and having a stranger raise him instead of his mother. It's all a veneer to cover up the mess behind it.

For me, not so much. I prefer a more simple approach. I am able to budget and live within my means. My wealth is not measured by dollars in the bank. It's measured in my ability to clip coupons, to feed a family of five for under $300.00 a month, to find the best deals and to live without the material excess. I drive a used Volvo. I have three payments left and I'm proud of that. I buy off the sale rack at Target and shop at the outlet malls for the kids. I love Costco. My wealth comes from seeing Payton blossom and thrive and grow within the circle of his FAMILY. To see his anxiety level drop by volumes over the past few weeks when he doesn't have to go to the sitter's house. To see him excited to spend time with mama and be happy to see daddy.

Do I want to work? The answer to that question is a resounding YES!!! I sure as hell do. I love having the feeling of happiness when I am able to coax the knots out of a first time mama's shoulders, to ease away the stiffness from a 80 year old great-grandmother's hands, to teach a wonderfully amazing handicapped woman some arm stretches so they don't hurt when she is helping her mother bake cookies, to work the legs of a dancer, to calm the addict, to ease the CEO. I love what I do!

But Payton will always come first. What in the world is wrong with that? He needs his mama. He's insanely sensitive and his biggest hangup and cause for his anxiety is being left behind. He obsesses about it. I can't even express how much it kills me to see him rage when I tell him he has to go to the baby sitter's house after a busy day at school.

My ex will never see it like that. He just sees that he has to pay me more Child Support. He intimidated and threatened me into accepting less than half of guideline support per month when I was making $64,000.00 a year. Now he's paying me more than before and he's Pissed. Oh... and that Pissed with a capital P. So this is why he wants me to do the Vocational Evaluation. His hope is that the evaluator will deem that I am able to earn $64,000.00 a year and that the child-support amount will be re-figured with me earning over $5000.00 a month rather than what I am currently earning on Unemployment. He even paid for the evaluation without and expectation of a reimbursement from me. He has gotten away with paying a laughable sum for over two years and it's time it stopped, but he's going to try one more time.

I just hate that I feel like I have to defend myself yet again. If the payment amount changes some, I'm OK with that, but he will pay guideline support. Even if it is re-figured with a higher potential salary for me, the Child Support payment will still more than double what it is now. Money was never my motivation, but I do feel that he needs to step up and do the right thing for Payton. My motivation has always been to provide a stable and consistent environment for Payton during the school week. No more ping-pong ball with up to four transfers a day. Our new Child Sharing percentage is 61/39 and it was 60/40 before. He's acting as if I'm "tearing his son away from him". Please.