The Child Support Jackpot

 

 

 

Last night I put my feet up and said, “kids, come on downstairs. Mommy collects child support and it’s the same as hitting the lottery so let’s live it up.” Ok, so I never said that because, guess what, child support is not, contrary to what some believe, the same as winning the lottery, hitting a jackpot or even the road to riches.

 

I HAVE NEVER HAD THE LUXURY OF PAYING A SET MONTHLY AMOUNT FOR MY KIDS AND NOT A PENNY MORE

 

Not clear enough for you? Hmm. Well, only one parent gets to say, “I only have to pay $(amount) each month and not a penny more, unless I feel like it.” That parent is not me. I get to pay that same amount monthly, plus more. I know. Totally crazy.

 

I get a lot of comments from people about child support, because it seems to be everyone’s business. Some people have actually taken it upon themselves to discuss it with my kids and explain to them what a hardship it is to pay child support. You know, because their gold digging child support collecting ho of a mother is just living in the lap of luxury cashing those checks from a private yacht in the South of France and not contributing to their support in any way.

 

As the gold digging child support collecting ho, I’d like to clear up a few misconceptions. I did not try to trap him with a kids. We both entered willingly into what turned out to be a huge mistake of a relationship. Only one of us left that entanglement with the primary care of kids.

 

That primary care includes maintaining a household with bedrooms for those kids, actual bedrooms. I couldn’t throw all of them into one room together regardless of age and/or sex. I had to actually have rooms for them, like as in somewhere they could live in and treat as if it were their very own home. I know. More craziness, right?

 

The other part that comes with that is staying within a school district. No going wherever was cheapest. Nope. Keeping kids in their schools means staying within the boundaries of the district. There was no moving a town or two over following cheap or even free rents. Boy do I wish I didn’t have to worry about bedrooms or school district. My housing costs could have been much substantially lower. As in a lot less money.

 

Then there are the other hidden bonuses that come with being the custodial parent. You know, like when the kids get sick you get to be the one to call in sick and be there for them, all of the time, like a 24/7 kind of there, not just every other weekend which really amounts to FOUR days a month. Four days a month? Geez. I could do a lot with those other 26 or 27 days a month, but I sort of decided when I opted for the epidural and pushed those kids out that I was in it for the long haul and not just FOUR days a month.

 

Then there are the hidden costs. Come on. If you have kids you know what I’m talking about. $20 here, $10 there, and that’s lowballing it. How often do your kids come to you and need money to go to bowling or ice-skating or for Slurpee’s? All that stuff adds up, and no, there’s no pro rata split for the extra fun stuff. It’s all on you. And yes, I know that “no” is a word. I say it more often that I would like to admit.

 

And what if, let’s say, you share custody with someone who goes months, even years without seeing the products of your love match or worst mistake, whatever you want to call it? Who foots the bill for all the fun stuff then, as in on what should be their visitation? Um, the custodial parent, also known as the gold digging child support collecting ho. When a parent doesn’t exercise their right to visitation and also doesn’t send a check to cover the essential and non-essentials of those four days a month, surprisingly that can add up in many ways. Who’d a thought?

 

But basically that means that despite that monthly check that can sometimes be late or short, the gold digging child support collecting ho gets to eat the cost on those four days a month too, essentially leaving one parent free and clear to live life and send a text on occasion that’s really the equivalent of a “wish you were here” type post card.

 

Before you accuse me of complaining, I’m not. Well not about the parenting part. At the end of the day, after breaking up fights over important things like ice, Gameboys and explaining for the hundredth time to my son why he has to stop pinning his sister until she screams, “tap out,” I enjoy my kids, even when I want to kill them. I got to be there for those nights where we read the same story, “one more time,” a million times and those nights where they were too old for bedtime and could hang out with their old mom and watch a movie. I have gotten to know and love their friends and been there to watch as they developed their first crushes and even had their first glimpse of heartbreak. I got to be their mother and that’s an awesome thing.

 

So for those who think I hit some awesome jackpot, I did, but it wasn’t financial. I collected support but I wasn’t looking to score. I was looking to be a mother and be there for my kids in all the ways that are important. Some people may think I’m a gold digging child support collecting ho, and I’m ok with that. Like I tell my kids, you can’t fix stupid, and there’s a lot of stupid out there.