Mother's day for years has always been me giving the children some money, getting them to decide if they want to club together or do it separately and then taking them out shopping. On occasion stbxh might manage to get up and organise tea and toast in bed, but that was rare. This is first year without him. He texted one of the two at home at two a.m. The other, relentlessly from six a.m. I suspect in the hopes of them being too tired to get up and get me a cuppa. As it was dd came in at half seven, fed up with his texts but brought me a cuppa and lovely, thoughtful pressies followed by ds getting ready for work at eight. It was quite a nice morning apart from the fact that stbxh has dominated the whole day with his fucking texts. He must be loving this. I'm not, obviously, not just that as usual it's about him, but I'm having to reassure an already extremely fragile dd that I'm fine and not bothered by it. I shall ask solicitor tomorrow if we can at least stop him saying horrible things about me to them. We shall see.
Fucking arse!