Tuesday 26 February 2008

JUSTICE

A couple of years ago the activist group Fathers For Justice were making regular headline news in the UK. At that time I was having particular difficulty maintaining a regular relationship with my daughters myself and felt a strong affinity for the heroes in daft costumes.

I might have joined the group had it not been for the fact that having not yet sold the house I had shared with their mother and having to rent somewhere else at the same time meant that I was literally starving and had a choice between paying the subscription fee and buying some more food.

Despite that, I have never missed a maintenance payment and have always made it clear that I want to see my daughters whenever I am not working, which usually amounts to every weekend. However, to this day their mother still contrives to prevent me from seeing them as regularly as I would like to while pretending to anyone who is still gullible enough to believe her that I am a terribly irresponsible absent father who doesn't want to see his children.

Last summer the tables were turned when she got first very ill and was then reported to Social Services by one of her friends for being drunk whilst looking after the girls. I had the children with me for about 3 months full time. How I could have easily sunk to her level, but I stuck to my principles and drove the children to see her every week during this time.

After the drinking incident I had a lot of contact with Social Services who had initially called me and advised me that I should not take the children back to their mother, but if she came to get them I must not do anything to prevent her. They advised me to call them straight away should this happen so that they could arrange to go and assess her. I asked her to voluntarily give me main carer status at this time, but she refused and eventually did come to take the children back. If I had refused, I could have been arrested for kidnap.

As soon as the children were back with their mother, I called Social Services as advised. Unfortunately, they called me back a couple of weeks later to tell me that she refused all contact with them, including when they just turned up at her door, and that unless one of the children presented physical signs of abuse or neglect they could do nothing to make her cooperate.

Isn't that GREAT? You have to wait until your children are actually harmed before anything can be done.

My point in relaying the story is that although the 2004 Children Act has improved the situation for unmarried fathers (and well done to F4J and others for precipitating this), if your children happen to have been born before that and their mother is uncooperative, you are pretty much f**ked.

My children's mother could emigrate with them without my consent and there is nothing I can do about it. I have almost no legal rights whatsoever, and the fact that I am by far the more responsible parent counts for nothing unless my children are actually harmed by their mother.

You might be able to imagine how frustrating that can be for a man who wants to protect his beautiful daughters.

Having said that, the law was made that way for a reason. I happen to have quite a few friends who are single mothers.

(I got my idea from Hugh Grant in About A Boy ;-) )

I have heard quite a few tales of irresponsible absent fathers who don't pay maintenance and don't try to see their children. Although I take these tales with a pinch of salt at first (knowing that my daughters' mother is probably telling the same ones about me), I have no doubt that some of my good friends are telling the truth about their less than responsible ex-partners.

I HATE THESE MEN WITH A BURNING PASSION. Not only because to shirk the responsibility of providing love and financial support for your children is despicable and cowardly, but because it is because of these CUNTS that the law was made how it is to protect mothers and their children.

When it comes to the legal system, I am tarred with the same brush as the fucking pathetic wimps.

Once I was sat in the pub. It was Christmas, shortly after I had been forced to move out of our family home. I hadn't seen my daughters for some time and wasn't all that happy about it. A chap noticed that I wasn't looking all that chipper for Christmas Eve and came to talk to me. Nice gesture I thought and I explained to him why I wasn't all that over the moon at the time.

Shortly after that, the fellow bought me a drink and started to explain to me how I could avoid paying maintenance for my children by declaring myself self-employed and hiring my services to the company I worked for at the time on a contract basis. That way I could pay myself a small salary and the rest of the money I earned could be 'ploughed back into the business'.

"Can I just stop you there, mate?" I said at this point.

"Yes, of course. What is it?"

"You, mate, are a TOTAL CUNT and I suggest you go very quickly a long way away from me or you won't be enjoying your Christmas Eve as much as you had expected either."



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