I couldn’t even start this column without envisioning
”
the courtroom
”
and feeling my stomach lurch.
I couldn’t even start this column without envisioning “the courtroom” and feeling my stomach lurch. If you have been following my column, you know that my husband is the custodial father of two, and I am the custodial mother of one. In my mind, this practically makes me an expert in courtroom etiquette. I have a pretty good idea of what you can complain about in court – and what not to say.
It’s been a long time, but I remember very clearly walking into the courtroom on rubber legs as a novice in self-representation. Here’s the scenario of that day:
It feels like I’ve waited an eternity, dreading this day, anticipating a favorable judgment on what I think is a no-brainer. I am in “propria persona,” meaning I’m representing myself rather than having an attorney. I have all of my documents in order. I have the “proof” ready to show that I’m telling the truth, and I will walk away the victor!
I listen to couples argue over matters similar to ours, and they make no progress. My stomach sours with disappointment having thought my complaints were original (and shocking) and represented “real problems.” After hearing a particular complaint that is exactly like mine, followed by the judge’s reprimand, I make a last-minute change to my opening statement. I hope I can remember it when it’s my turn.
With my heart pounding and my mouth dry, I present my issues in a voice that doesn’t sound anything like me. The respondent, also in propria persona, ignores what I have said and complains about something I am not prepared to defend. We are now off track and not discussing the matter at hand. (It’s very hot in here, and I start to sweat.)
The respondent argues out of turn, and my reflex is to defend the outrageous accusations that are being made about me. Now we both get scolded, and I appear to have as little diplomacy as my opposition.
My gut is now in knots because this is going all wrong. To make matters worse, we both appear to have lateral positions in this matter, I’d like a bathroom break and I’m horrified by this misrepresentation of my character.
And yet another date is set. There is a conflict in my schedule with the day that is chosen. I have a very important matter that cannot be rescheduled. Now I feel I am being perceived as uncooperative. We are told to go to mediation. We already did that. We couldn’t agree then, we won’t agree now and that is why we are here with our “proof,” trying to resolve this issue! I feel like throwing up. I need some water. And I am now expected to go outside and have a civil conversation with the respondent to schedule something that is agreeable?
Sound familiar? Things have really changed for me since then. I’m in no way qualified to give legal advise, but my suggestion to people who are facing court issues (in pro-per) is to sit in on some family law sessions. Watch and learn. Take notes. Then decide what works and what doesn’t before you file an Order to Show Cause, or OSC, over a trivial issue. Decide what is worth fighting over and what isn’t.
I’ve learned you have to make a decision within yourself to just let the kids go to visitation, or back to their home, and accept that the other environment is out of your hands. You can’t get upset about too many fast food meals, inappropriate sources of entertainment or personal hygiene. Forget about issues with sunburns, excessive bug bites or bad haircuts. You cannot control what goes on in another household. As long as the children are not being abused, there comes a time when you simply have to let things go.
Just remember that the only person you can control is yourself. If you stick with that, things will get better sooner or later. Don’t think of it as “giving in.” Think of it as avoiding conflict, for the kids’ sake.
And to all of you who are going to court soon … I completely empathize. I’ve found that the stomachache I get when I worry about an environment over which I have no control is much milder than the gut-wrenching courtroom stomach cramps I could be having. Think about it.
Lydia Eden-Irwin and her husband were both raised in Gilroy. They have three kids collectively and have spent the past four years meeting the challenges of blending two broken households into one great family. Lydia can be reached at ed*****@*ol.com.
