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Today you blew up again. He asked you when you wanted your daughter back, because it's been three days, and we haven't heard from you at all. He has school tomorrow, and he only has five months left. Five months until all of his hard work has paid off and he can begin his adventure towards becoming a journeyman outside of a classroom. Five months until he is able to spend these eight hours a day making money to provide for your daughter. Those five months don't matter to you, though. The years that he has spent in school don't matter to you.

So, today, you said "idk why tf you still gotta go to school. Just taking time away from your daughter".

You never graduated high school or went to college, so I know that you don't appreciate the feeling that comes with walking across the stage after all those days of feeling useless. I know that you don't understand how hard it is to find a sustainable job in the adult world with only a high school diploma, because you don't even work. I know that you're flooded with hormones, being pregnant again, and that dealing with the father of your youngest child makes dealing with the father of your oldest all the more exhausting. What I can't seem to understand, though, is how you don't see all that he and I do, and how you can put your feelings above her wellbeing and ability to thrive.

Today, I looked at my student loan debt knowing that I won't be able to pay it off or go back to school until he's done.

Today, I got home from a 10 hour shift, an hour away from where I live, at 3am. My feet were bleeding. I wanted to sprawl out in my bed and take a deep breath. Instead, I nudged him over an inch and curled up on the floppy edge of the mattress with what little bit of blanket remained.

Today, I wanted to do laundry, but instead, I rocked your daughter until she fell asleep.

Today, I wanted to clean the house, but instead I spent $50 that we really didn't have at the moment to buy your daughter everything that she needs to get through this cold as comfortably as possible.

Today, I wanted to go to sleep early, but instead I am awake past midnight, typing angrily while your daughter tries to fall asleep in my upright fiance's arms.

Today, I wanted to watch my favorite show that I haven't sat down to watch in over a week, but instead I wiped down all of her toys with disinfectant and talked to her.

This is the one and only time that I will "complain" or vent. You see, I have no problem doing these things. I love getting to do these things.

I have a problem with the fact that every weekend he tells you he can take her, but needs help on weekday mornings, you tell him that he can wait to see his daughter till the next weekend. You tell him that he probably just wants to "go party" with his "coke-head girlfriend", and so he pleads with you to get his daughter for his 3 days out of the week. What you don't know is that your daughter is the reason I don't even smoke pot anymore. I want to be able to pass a drug test should you ever throw my teenage years in my face in a sudden custody hearing. I want to be able to be clear mined should he call me needing anything regarding your daughter. I want to be productive, so that when we come home from work, we can relax. What you don't know is how tired he is right now, and he has to be up for school in five hours, but he's in there sucking out her boogers and feeding her medicine. What you don't know is what I willingly gave up to be a part of her life.

I moved around my bedroom, took down the trippy posters, removed the empty liquor bottles on display, bought her her own bed (something she hasn't had at his mother's), stocked my fridge with fruits and meats and veggies, child proofed every cabinet, appliance, and door. I gave up my college bachelorette pad to have a home covered in toys, and boogers, and trash cans full of dirty diapers. I gave up sleep for precious moments ensuring that she could breathe in hers. I have spent SO much money making my home safe for her. I even bought a baby gate for the stairs. Those things aren't cheap, you know. I did these things because after almost a year of being together, he lives here now, so she does, too. I did these things because I value your daughter's safety. I do these things because I see her as the most innocent and precious thing on this planet. I do these things because he needed someone to do them while he becomes a man.

You never gave him time to do that. You sat on your phone while the baby cried and the dishes piled. You applied for welfare instead of letting her go on to his insurance, knowing that it would cost more in child support. You moved three hours away, knowing that you ran the vehicle that he bought you into the ground, and that his was falling apart. For the months that you lived so far away, I drove us 7 hours each day to pick her up & drop her off. I feed her every meal and snack she wants and needs when she is with me. I keep diapers and wipes on hand every second of every day, because his time is spent creating a better future for her, so my time is spent busting my ass to give her everything that I can with what I can.

You still complain that we don't give you enough, even though I bought giant boxes of both diapers and wipes for you for baby's birthday. I gave you gift cards for yourself on your birthday, and even gave you a gift card for your new baby on Christmas. The only reason your daughter even HAD a birthday party is because I spent months saving for the venue, decorations, and presents. You NEVER remember those things, though. All you remember is that I have a gap in my teeth & that I experimented with drugs when I was younger, and that I get to sleep every night next to the man you wanted. You remember that he never fell in love with you & that he gave up on trying to make you guys a family. You remember that you dropped out of school when you were pregnant, and you remind us of all of these things every day. You never stop to wonder where she learned all of these new words from. You never wonder what she eats when she's with us, or how much sleep she gets, or what medicine we gave her. You only care about where we were on the Thursday night that we didn't have her.

You berate me constantly, and after looking myself in the mirror and wiping my own tears, I walk into my bedroom with a heavy heart. I know you never wonder, but can I tell you what I do next? I rub his back and wipe his tears and remind him that he's a damn good dad. And then, I pull the blankets a little tighter around all of us, and fall asleep with her arms around my neck, relieved that her cuddle buddy came back to bed.

And I know that you stopped caring what day you get her back, but she misses you and cries for you, and she wonders when she's going to see you again. I wish that you respected us enough to answer our texts so that I had something more to tell her than "I don't know peanut, but don't worry. You'll see her soon, and Daddy and Yaga are here for now".