Apparently, my ex, Levi, caught wind of my lunch date with his sister, Erica. He called last night, said he wanted to have a "civil conversation." (I really must remember to send the man a dictionary with the word "civil" highlighted.)

Then he rambled on and on about how he "isn't going to do anything for Adrian just yet" and how he will "never go through me to have a relationship with Adrian, that he must wait until Adrian is old enough to formulate a relationship with him himself." Same old, same old.

Then he switched gears and told me that he is going to "come take him from me." More of the same. Listening to him now, I can't believe that I ever got myself so upset over his bullshit.

This time I simply told him, "Thank you for the update" and added, "It was nice catching up with you." Done.

Then I met Erica in the city for lunch yesterday. We met at the cafe outside of the zoo, ate, and then wandered around the animal exhibits. She tried to engage Adrian a few times, but he was way more interested in the monkeys and sea lions than in her.

It was only at the end of our day that she brought up Levi, and...their mother. (I still can't decide which one of them I loathe more.) Apparently, the mom wants to see Adrian but she doesn't want to see me. Levi has told his family that he is okay with them "filling in for him" — holding a place for him, until he is ready to be a parent. I told her that it wasn't the right time to talk about it.

But seriously, what can I do but shake my head in disbelief at the utter dysfunction that is their family?

After all of this back and forth nonsense with my ex's family, I've made a lunch date with Erica, Levi's sister. I came to this decision when I was discussing the dilemma with my best friend. She has dealt with a similar situation with her ex-in-laws, so she is my "go to" girl on these issues.

She told me that she had decided to embrace the ex-in-laws and, "treat them the way I would have liked them to treat me," and that it had really worked out well for her.

Heck, all of this arguing isn't working — so I figured, why not give it a try.

Besides, Erica isn't as bad as the rest of them. In fact, she's an absolute dream compared to the rest of them.

I decided that it would be best if we have a quick bite to eat in the park (as Adrian is somewhat of a monster in restaurants), and afterwards go take a walk through the Central Park Zoo.

Adrian, like all kids, loves the zoo. He runs around and says "hi" to everyone and everything. Like, "Hi, monkey!" and "Hi, man." It's absolutely adorable.  With that kind of distraction I don't think that there is any way that Erica and I can get into an argument.

Of course then I have all of these paranoid notions that she will see how perfect, cute, handsome, charming, and just absolutely amazing my son is and try to take him. To that my mom says, "You've got to stop thinking that everybody wants to steal your baby. Nobody in their right mind would steal a child." And she's right.

But we are talking about Levis' family here, remember?

My father showed up at my house yesterday. In case you don't remember, this is my father's story.

Along with being my father, he is also a drug addict and master manipulator. Until yesterday he was living down south, in and out of homeless shelters, in and out of psych wards, in and out of various churches and occasionally he slept on the street.

I have tried, and my family has tried, to help him several times; each time, we got screwed over.

Upon seeing him this time, I got such an instant headache that I thought my head was going to explode. I sort of just stood there with my mouth hanging open.

He explained to me that he was there because he wants to get help. He asked me to help him get help.

I called my mother and told her what was going on. (They divorced when I was a baby.) She was very short and obnoxiously said to me, "The only reason that you would do anything to help him is because you want attention. He has other people to help him, let them do it." I told her I had to go.

I was stunned by the way she treated me; by the tone of her voice, and by what she said. I tried to let it go but it kept creeping back into my consciousness as I was taking my father in and out of various doctors' offices.

I realized that I think my mother may feel guilty. I'm sure if I chose a total jerk to be the father of my child (which, actually, I did) — a total jerk that can't get his life together and is a huge burden on me — I'd feel badly about it also.

I wonder if this is a common problem for divorced parents. Does anyone else have any experience with this?

As is obvious from my previous posts I've had some struggles with dealing with Levi's family. It seems that just as the point came that I was very comfortable and very happy with never having to deal with them again — they barged back into my life making all sorts of demands of me and my time.

I thank you all for your advice and no doubt, I took a lot of it to heart. After writing about how they asked for me to keep their visits with Adrian a secret, and then reading your responses I came to the realization that I just don't have the emotional energy to expel on them.

I called Levi's sister and told her that the whole scene was making me uncomfortable and that I felt that they should deal with Levi, be upfront and honest about their feelings, and then they were more than welcome to see Adrian.

His sister became irate and hung up the phone. Ten minutes later I got this email:

Faith:

I appreciate that there are things you want from us that you have not received. I cannot get an email one day asking when we will see Adrian, giving the dates that you will be away and the next day getting a call that you don't know if you want us to see him.

You are not the only one with big problems and big issues to deal with. If you decide you want us to see Adrian without out any drama, fine. If not, then we will all have to deal with the consequences, most of all Adrian.

When Adrian grows up and wants to know why he has no relationship with his father's family, believe me, you will not be able to put it only on us.

I'm so tired of the shady nonsense that goes on in Levi's side of the family. As I wrote before, Levis' mom emailed and asked to see Adrian, then Levi's sister, Erica, also called and asked. We spoke and everything seemed fine.

I still had that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, but decided that it was just because of all of the drama that has transpired between us in the past few years.

Then I got another phone call from Erica. She sounded stressed out and out of breath, and asked if I could talk for a second. I said "sure." She reiterated again that she wanted to see Adrian — that her mother really wants to see Adrian — but that they were worried about the way that Levi would react.

She told me that they cannot control what Levi does, or in this case does not do, and that they decided that it is best that Levi not be told that they are taking an interest in Adrian.

Translation: Don't tell Levi that we are talking to you or your son.

I suppose that I really don't care. I mean, I believe that Adrian is really, at this point, my son and who he visits with is none of Levi's business. However, I'm not interested in anymore of their drama. And, knowing them, Levi will find out and inevitably somehow I will end up the bad guy.

So, I'm back to being torn again. Do I just play along and allow Adrian to develop a relationship with his aunt and grandmother behind his father's back? Or do I tell them to work out their issues with Levi — be upfront and honest — and then we'll talk?

What do you think?

Levi's mom emailed me the other day. She hasn't emailed me since the day after my Adrian was born. It was in that email that she told me that my son was "nothing that I should be proud of" that he "should have never been born" and that I should "give him up for adoption immediately" and that if I didn't, I shouldn't come "crying to them for help." She said all of that, amongst other things.

Needless to say, there was no love lost between the two of us.

So anyway, she emailed me last week, totally out of left field to tell me that she now feels that Adrian should have contact with them (herself and her husband) and she'd like me to bring Adrian to see them on Saturday.

My initial thought was to say something along the lines of f*#k you, you've done nothing but be horrible people for two years. I mean, not only did they condone their son's really shitty behavior but they also allowed us to suffer. They haven't offered a dime in child support to us or an ounce of help.

Seriously, they haven't even bought my son a t-shirt since he's been born, and they are more than capable financially. So when I say they've done nothing, they have really done nothing.

But instead of instantly reacting, I decided to think about it. I decided to think about what was really pissing me off. I came up with this:

Their behavior toward me after Levi left really hurt me.

The fact that they refused to acknowledge my son really hurt me.

The fact that they are more than capable to contribute to my son's life but didn't really hurt me.

The fact that they condoned their son's behavior towards myself and our son really hurt me.

See a lot of me in there?

The conclusion I came up with is that its really all about...me. I'm angry with them because of the way they treated me.

I distinctly remember the pills. When Levi left me, I couldn't sleep and my doctor prescribed me some pretty powerful sleeping pills — even though I was pregnant...

Sometimes when I have a calm moment, which are few and far between, I find myself thinking of all the things that have changed in my life over the last year. It reminds me of that quote, "The only thing that ever stays the same is change." I had never realized before how true that really is. Nothing stays the same — even the best things.

My divorce practically started on the eve of my son's birth. Several emotions all crammed into one — all conflicting — rendered me an absolute mess.

I remember thinking I would never be happy again. I remember worrying about how I was going to support a baby by myself. I remember scrounging for change in between the couch cushions for diapers, thinking things couldn't possibly be any worse.

I remember feeling abandoned and hopeless. I couldn't see the light.

I remember one night — which I haven't told anybody about until now — I was lying in bed, in a house all by myself, totally exhausted from being up all day and night with an infant, all by myself.

I remember realizing that it was cold and walking over to the thermostat to see that the temperature was dropping. No heat, no money for oil. I dressed the baby in warm clothes and put him in bed with me. I remember lying there, wanting to cry, but nothing would come out. I was too exhausted for tears.

It was then that I remembered the pills. My doctor prescribed me some pretty powerful sleeping pills when Levi took off — even though I was pregnant. He also gave me an anti-depressant.

I hadn't taken very many of them, but for some reason I still had them in the cabinet. I remember thinking to myself that I should just go downstairs and take those pills.

I wanted to give up.

What would you do if your ex called you and revealed all of his personal problems to you? What would you do if the ex in question was an ex like Levi? An ex that not only treated you like crap, but your son as well?

This is the place I suddenly find myself.

In a weird, out-of-the-blue phone call, Levi revealed to me all of his personal problems. And boy, oh boy, does he have a big one. I'm not going to go into all of the details just yet but I will say that he was recently diagnosed with a serious medical issue. Now he wants my sympathy. Now he wants my compassion.

Do you see why I wrote about my father earlier this week?

I'm trying to figure out why I even discussed this with him. Why I didn't just say, "It's not my problem," and hang up on him, as he would surely do to me. I must admit, though, that I was rather pleased with the fact that for once, we were not screaming at each other.

I cannot believe that at this very moment, I am sitting here trying to figure out ways to help him.

And this is how it goes. Every time I feel myself breaking away from him, I find myself being reeled back in.

I think right now, I have to adopt some of Levi's selfishness. I think that I'll be capable of sympathizing with Levi, on some human level; but I don't think it's my job to be his sounding board, or even to help him.

I've never been an "eye for an eye" type of girl, but man, I hope this will open up his eyes.

I know we're supposed to be talking about divorce here, but I want to interject for a moment, and tell you all about my dad. My therapist seems to think that my relationship, or rather, lack of a real relationship with my father, is extremely relevant to the topic at hand.

My father is an alcoholic and a drug addict. He's a lying, manipulative and abusive person. He makes me absolutely nuts.

I can't even tell you how hard it is for me to admit this, it's so embarrassing.

He's probably been this way my whole life, but being that I was so young, I didn't realize it. It all became apparent though, by the time I was 13, and he went to jail for the first time. At least the first time that I know about.

He went to jail, he got out, he made my life hell — taking me with him to cop drugs, driving around drunk with me in the car, saying nasty, belligerent and inappropriate things to me and to my friends — then he went back to jail again. The process would repeat itself over and over and over again. Except sometimes jail would be substituted with a stint in the hospital and a promise that everything was going to change.

It's 15 years later, and he's still doing the same thing.

He's in Virginia now — just got out of jail again. Of course, it was someone else's fault. It always is.

After he was released from jail this time, the state (I think) paid for him to stay at a motel, for a week. He called me while he was there, telling me that he had a job and a plan, etc. etc. etc. The next call I got was from a social worker at a psychiatric hospital, informing me that my father was there and that she'd like to speak to me.

My good friend was babysitting Adrian for me a few days ago. When I walked into the house to pick him up they were putting together a big wooden puzzle of the United States.

Adrian must have had the California piece in his hands because I heard Rachel say, "That's where daddy lives, in Hollywood."

Then she turned and saw me and the shocked look on my face.

She said to me, "Faith, that's really the only place for him, you know, being that he's such a superficial asshole."

I get it that my friends think Levi is an asshole. I get it that they are totally disgusted with him. Really, how could you not be.

But should this go on around my son?

No, it shouldn't.

But is telling Adrian that his "daddy" lives in California appropriate either? I don't know.

I've said all along that when he asks, I'll tell him the truth. But now, as he is talking quite well, and getting closer and closer to asking, I'm not really sure what the "right truth" to tell him is.

I guess the simplest truth is that he is in California.

Some people think that Levi will eventually come around. Come around, you know, be emotional, form a bond, take part in his son's life. Mostly though, the people that believe that don't really know him.