Cause I'm the Taxman, Yeah, I'm the Taxman

It's that time of year - taxes. The past few years, I've done my own taxes without too much trouble. Due to my move, telework, piles of different forms, etc., I'll be getting my professionally done. No desire to be audited. Funny enough, though, I'll be doing almost everyone else's taxes it seems. Call me the taxman.

My partner, his brother, his friend. I'm a little nervous about how far this list will stem out. Each one doesn't take THAT long on it's own, but the repeated monotony of entering information when I hate doing it just for myself... cringeworthy. But I did volunteer to do my partner's taxes in order to alleviate what is, in my mind, a far worse alternative - that the biological mother's mother do them for him (again).

Apparently for the past few years - including the time when they were broken up and I wasn't yet living here - his ex's mother has been doing his taxes. Let the awkward feelings commence. I'm not sure if she has some kind of certification I'm unaware of, but I don't think she does (or if she does, it's certainly not one she relies on for her professional career). I should note that I have actually met his ex's mother and she was very kind to me. Unfortunately, it doesn't really alleviate the awkwardness of it all.

In years past (again, including those that they were apart and I was with him), he apparently claimed his ex as well as his daughter. This is in large part due to the fact that his ex gets paid under the table and doesn't have any documented income - someone needs to claim J, and they might as well claim her mother for an added bonus. The problem with this - besides the obvious discomfort it causes for me - is that it's pretty illegal. They don't live together, which is the number one criteria for claiming a significant other (non-married) as a dependent. He can, however, claim his daughter and fully intends to. Here's where the trouble begins.

This year, he informed his ex that he'd continue to claim J (because he holds more financial responsibility for her). His ex initially said this was fine, but based it on the assumption that her mother would continue to do my partner's taxes, that he'd still claim her, and that she'd get a cut of the refund. Uh, bitch please. He explained that he wasn't going to claim her and that someone else would be doing his taxes. Cue explosion... now.

At this stage in the game, I've filled out most of his return. He still needs, however, his daughter's social security number AND his AGI from last year's return to e-file. His ex's mother (again, quite civil) provided him with the AGI. But the social security number is still a holdout... because his ex refuses to provide it. She's trying to force him to either claim them both and give her some of the return, or has said that her own mother will claim J and her. The latter is distinctly impossible - they don't live together, and that's a pretty big piece of the dependent claiming puzzle. All of this has been a pretty big inconvenience for me - I don't really enjoy doing taxes, and just sitting around twiddling my thumbs when I just need a few digits of information is ridiculous.

The bigger problem remains - why on earth would his ex assume that he'd continue to claim her, share the return, and have her mother file his taxes? It's infuriating to me. I've spent much of our relationship trying to compartmentalize this woman into two persons - the mother of the child I'm growing to love, and my partner's ex. Moments like these make it very difficult for me, as the semi-step, to exist in the same space and to deal in a mature way with the situation. I'm mostly just angry, and there's not much I can do about it. This frustration only grows when I don't feel like he's properly sticking up for what needs to happen in this situation, but it's not something I enjoy expressing to him - it's something that pushes his buttons every time. He doesn't enjoy being told by others how to interact with his ex and co-parent. I get that. But at what point does he need to get over that in order to provide a safety net under my walking tightrope act?

Whatever the solution winds up being in this situation, it's moments like these that I think I'm a little in over my head. It makes me question how well I can continue my compartmentalizing and separation of my thoughts about her, and it's seriously confusing - how long do I keep the balancing act up?

"Don't ask me what I want it for
If you don't want to pay some more
Cause I'm the taxman, yeah, I'm the taxman."

"There is No Friend as Loyal as a Book"

Ernest Hemingway.

So my step is obviously not at the point of reading Ernest Hemingway - she is only five, you know. But she is at the point where she's learning how to read on her own. That is, when you can convince her to.

A few months back were parent teacher conferences. My partner went to it without the bio mom, and I picked up him afterward. The teacher had glowing things to say about J - she's intelligent, she's sociable, she's friendly, and she LOVES to read. When my partner told me this news with a wry smirk on his face, I nearly died of shock. Yes, J is smart, sociable, and friendly. But loves to read? I think not.

For several weeks, we were told by her teacher that she had to read one book every other day and log it in her homework folder. Let me put it bluntly: it was a struggle to complete this log. Some days, we weren't able to do it at all. Let's elaborate.

When J comes to our home, she spends the vast majority of the time chasing our puppy (Doyle) around the apartment. From there, we have the inevitable struggle to eat (see previous post), and then she either resumes play with Doyle or dives into some other activity (often coloring, a puzzle, or my old Polly Pockets). Generally, I don't mind this system (excluding the dinner part); the playtime is good for Doyle. But it doesn't leave much opportunity to wiggle in a book reading.

When we try, there's often a sigh or a groan - roughly translated, "Do we have to?" We sit on the couch, and immediately J's attention is elsewhere. In fact, it's more of a hover over the general vicinity of the couch. She's constantly scooching forward, perpetually on the edge and ready to hop off at the drop of a hat. Each page takes an eternity; each time she encounters a difficult word, we prompt her to sound it out. Most of the time, she responds with an "I don't know," and looks on the verge of tears. She's either VERY sensitive about this or she's just testing her boundaries to see if crying will get her out of storytime. After a few laborious pages, she starts bartering - one more page? Okay, two more? There are only five left, why not just finish the damn thing (I say in my mind).

All of this is particularly perplexing for me. Not only does her teacher claim that J loves to read, but I'm an avid reader myself. I always have been, in fact. From the time my oldest sister taught me to read, I've devoured book after book. My bookshelves are literally overflowing (pun intended). One of my parents' favorite anecdotes is how, on a family vacation to Disney World around the age of 7, I shut myself in the closet so I could read my book in peace. My sisters were too loud, I remarked casually when my dad opened the door.

So how do we reconcile this? How do we get J to find herself immersed in a story so good, not even the allure of a wild puppy can draw her away? How do we help her make this most loyal of friends, this bringer of adventures and faraway places?

I don't have an answer, but perhaps a little light reading elsewhere might help me find it. As C.S. Lewis put it, "We read to know that we are not alone."