OK, so maybe I am still sweating the small stuff.

But tonight Kenny and I started going through all the things we've acquired in our 17 years together and dividing them into "mine" and "yours." We counted and divided serving platters, wedding china, decorative wooden balls, and Pyrex baking pans. The piano is mine. The wedding silver is his (I'm sure his mother reminded him that it was a gift from her). And in the end, the conflict came down to a stand-off centered around 7 paintings and a vacuum.

The 7 paintings are 5 square canvases which I built and painted myself while I was pregnant with Zach, a 3' by 5' canvas which Chloe and I painted together during the spring of her Kindergarten year, and a large oil painting of a red flower which I bought at Ross for $50 and hung in the place where our ketubah (Jewish wedding certificate) hung for 10 years.
The 5 square paintings is just a ridiculous request on his part. They are nothing on their own, just geometric concentric squares painted with the same colors as our family room walls.
The painting Chloe and I did together was also done with the left-over wall paint and is a product of a wonderful week of afternoons spent in the garage together. Just the two of us.
The painting of the red flower...well, Kenny said that the day he walked into the house a few months ago and saw it hanging on the wall he knew it was the one thing he would absolutely take with him. Just because he knew I really liked it. What a spiteful asshole.

My initial reaction to this battle over art was to call him a spiteful-asshole-cock-sucker-mother-fucking-jerk, tell him how ridiculous he was being, and feel absolutely incredulous that someone could be such a jerk (although, really, it is precisely what I should expect from him).

My second reaction was to try to rationalize with him.
"Chloe and I created that painting together. It should stay with me."
His response: "My daughter painted it and I paid for the supplies."
"That flower painting was $50. It's not like it's a masterpiece, and it matches the room. I'll just go buy another one."
His response: "I'll just take them both."

We finished dividing possessions for the evening (with a few items left in the TBD collumn) and I went to my room discouraged and really upset about the artwork issue. HOW DARE HE!!! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!! HE IS CLEARLY (and he admitted so directly) DOING THIS JUST TO SPITE ME AND BECAUSE HE KNOWS IT WILL HURT ME!!!

After a few minutes of self-pity and Kenny-hating, I took a deep breath and considered what was really at stake here. things. just things. And I was reacting just how he wanted me to. I was giving him such power and such satisfaction in his ability to hurt and control me. I was confirming his belief that he is awesome and right and will "win" in all of this.

So, I walked downstairs and found him outside smoking (because he's super cool).
I suggested that he give me the painting that Chloe and I made together and take the blank canvas in the garage and make a painting of his own with his daughter. He accepted.
I then told him that he could keep the painting of the red flower. It no longer mattered to me and I didn't want it. It was only $50, and $50 was a small price to pay to get him out of my home. He didn't get it.

I don't want to let him get the best of me, but he is really good at baiting me into feeling defensive about things. When he is on the attack (which is constant), I have a very hard time not rising to defend myself.

I need to remember that he will only ever have as much power and control as I give him.
I need to set my boundaries and just not respond to his remarks.
When he attacks my style of parenting, I just need to repeat, "We have different styles of parenting and each has its value. Neither of us is wrong, just different."
I need to stop rising to his provocations. "My parenting is not wrong, it's just different than yours."

18 more days.
18 more days.
18 more days.