03/1/23



Dear O and C,

Well, just as I suspected, your individual therapist told me that it is not her job to facilitate any communication between us.  Matter of fact, she basically told me that there is no reason for me to ever contact her.  I guess I have to be content with seeing you each for 30 minutes per week, until the court orders otherwise.  Here’s the deal.  I’m not a rocket scientist, but I do know this.  You are with your mother 10, 050 minutes per week.  You are with me, 30 minutes per week.  Your mother has the judge, the family court system, her attorney, your therapist, your doctor, your school, her family, her friends, her online support community, and possibly more people as allies in this custody battle.  I have my attorney, and the family therapist as allies in this custody battle.  Given the amount of time you spend with your mother, and all of the support and allies on her side, it is impossible for me to gain any ground in this custody battle.  It is impossible for me to build or form any type of relationship with you boys, with 30 minutes of playtime per week.  I literally spend 217 minutes per week with my students.  I am able to build better bonds and relationships with my students, then I am with you.  Any psychologist, therapist, teacher, parent, relative, friend, would tell you; the only way to build, develop, and maintain a relationship is by spending more time, and having more contact with the person you are attempting to build the relationship with.  I’m willing to say, and it is probably backed by scientific data somewhere, that 30 minutes per week is almost inconsequential when it comes to relationship building.  Almost all of the information exchanged during those 30 minutes is most likely lost from one week to the next.  What I’m dealing with is similar to when David battled Goliath.  It’s as if I’m trying to push a two ton, square bolder, up a hill, with constant avalanches breaking loose.  It’s  impossible.  But hey, many would argue the Egyptian Pyramids should have been impossible to build, and they got built.  So, I’m not giving up.  I will hang on to the tiny bit of hope that has been allotted to me, and run with it, for as long as I can.  Hang in there.  I love you boys.


Love, 


Dad

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