Wanting What You Don't Have

I am so pissed off right now I almost can't see straight. For real; I'm not kidding. Oh, you guys will be too, just as son as I tell you the latest in the fucked up saga that surrounds anything to do with ex's fucked up family. AAAAKKKK!!!!!

Anyway, just a bit of background....

whathisname's "father" left his mom when he was around 10ish and had no actual relationship with him. Zero. Nada. Nothing. I was the one who encouraged the ex to get back in touch with the "father" because I thought it was a good idea. I'm not sure anymore.

The "father" lives maybe 20 minutes from my house. 20. Two-Zero. Twenty. That's it. Has that man, or his wife (Note-not the ex's mom) darkened the door of my home? Nope. They came to Cait's birthday party and to Tristan's birthday party. No phone calls. No cards. Nothing.

Well, perhaps not nothing...occasionally I get a message on FB from the "stepmom"-written in all caps-which I begrudgingly answer because it is usually heavy with guilt trip sauce...and I don't tolerate guilt trip shit from MJ so why would I tolorate it from someone else? I mean really people.

Anyway, I got a box via the US postal service today from, guess who...that's write. It was from them. The box is full of Christmas presents for the kids.

That's right, FF, those assholes could not even be bothered to drive 20 fucking minutes to come see my children and hand them their gifts in person. Nope, they mailed them.

Did I mention they live 20 minutes away?

Did I also mention that ex's Mom lives further away and drives to my house almost every time she is off work to come visit the kids? She usually only gets one day off a week, and she spends at least a few hours of it with those babies because they are important to her. Because of that, anytime we are anywhere near where she works we stop by and visit for a few minutes. I make an effort because SHE makes an effort.

If she isn't able to come by for a couple of weeks, she calls for a general update. Ok, so most of the time it's after she's around a 6 pack in so it's a short, but interesting conversation, but she tries.

What do I get from the others? Not a goshdamn thing. Actually, damn near less than that even.

Do they expect me to drive to their house, while they sit in their recliners, chain smoking in front of my children? Umm, yeah, NO! If my children are SOO important you can make an effort, therefore I will make an effort.

Now, I should know better because they never came to our house when we were married, so why us not being married anymore should make things any different, but...dammit! It just pisses me the fuck off.

And you know what, I bet they talk about me like I'm dog-shit because I do not go over there and visit with them. Once again, I bring up the smoke the billows out of the house when they open the door. Every time we took the kids as babies they cried the entire time and ended up with a cold because of the smoke. Plus, I have nothing-nothing-nothing-NOTHING in common with either one of those people, except the kids. I'm not all about a social call. I'm not about a "let's catch up". I don't really know them and from whe I can tell they don't really want to know anything about my kids.

Pop says to let it go and to not worry about them becasue the kids have plenty of grandparents. And I know I should, but it just gets in my crawl that those people are treating my babies like second class citizens that aren't worth thier time enough to come visit.

I know how that feels. I've been treated like that by MJ's mother since I was 11. (Don't ask, I still do not know what an 11yr old does to become oustrasized by her own grandmother. However, suffice to say neither me or my sister are, were, or ever will be the "Golden Grandchildren" that she gives two shits about.) And I didin't have anohter grandmother to pick up the slack. I was just grandparentless and I always felt like there was a huge, gaping hole in my soul where something should have been and wasn't. The idea that this person genetically bonded to me disliked me to such a degree that I didn't matter to them. I don't want the kids to feel that way. To feel slighted. My parents (along with ex's mom and my brother-in-laws parents) will defintely take up any slack, but I'm afraid as they get bigger they will always earn for that thing they will never get-just as I always have. The acceptance and love of those people who could fucking care less.

I mean, tell me a single person who would not just love these faces so much they wouldn't want to see them as much as possible....

Pops's right (as usual), screw them..my kids ROCK!!

That's What I Said.

Because I love the rawness and hilarity of her words, Pretty All True is one of the first blogs I read in the morning. In fact, I get a notification on my toolbar when a new post is published and I instantly click on it. (Although I have learned to look for the warning labels she is kind enough to place at the top of a post in case the kids are running around.)

Today's post was, like most of her posts, honest and raw, but this one had a different twist. This one hinted at a much darker time than she normally shares. It tasted of sadness and regret and I rolled it across my tonuge until I was sure to have sucked the marrow from it. Her mother admitted to never knowing what she endured at the hands of her father and a string in my soul was plucked and stretched farther than it has been in a while.

Not in sadness, you understand. No, in complete understanding. Below you will read my comment to her post and her reply. (You will so understand why I love this woman and totally want to be her friend in the most serious and non-stalker way possible.)

Jamie: I read the words of your mother and I hear my own voice-my voice from over a year ago, before I left my ex-husband. The guilt I had for taking my children’s father from them was overwhelming and suffocating at the time and I almost caved because how could I be so selfish to put my personal happiness above that of my children’s. I’ve been where your mother was.


It wasn’t until months later when my son’s nightmares finally stopped that I realized my ex was the “bad” guy in every single nightmare he’d had since he could tell me what happened in his dreams. (My daughter had just turned a year old and my son was almost three when I left.) He still gets shy around men he doesn’t know. Sigh. Now I tend to chastise myself for not seeing the world as it was before I finally worked up the courage to leave-when I was still a coward who thought she was lower than shit. I’ve been where you mom was.


Now my children are 2 and 4 and our happiness knows no bounds, or screaming, or harsh words, or icy glares and silences. To borrow a phrase from you…we are all kinds of awesome now.


Kris: I have no adequate words for what you have shared here.

Know that I love and respect my mother.


And I am happy she is not there now.


And I am happy that you are not there now.


And that instead you are all kinds of awesome now.


I am all teary.


Love you.

A Little Misty

Every morning and every afternoon I fall juuuust a little more in love with this guy I see while I'm driving to T's school. So, perhaps I'm not in love with him because I have no clue who is is (although I know where he lives). Seriously, I am only slightly exaggerating, because I think is just wonderful.

Ok, so let me just tell the story...

My normal route to the school takes me by Reserrection Elementary school and each morning I pass by a Dad (whom I lovingly refer to as Ultimate Dad) in some stage of walking his two children to school. I first noticed them leaving their house, which is just down from the school, with him pulling a little red wagon. I thought it was absolutly the cutest thing I had ever seen in my life. 

Since that first day I have seen them pretty much every morning. And to make matters even worse on my particular little, tender heart, I saw him walking the kids back from school this afternoon. I swear my eyes teared up and I sighed over the Ultimate Dad. Now, this is the part where I tell you that other than the bit of white in his hair, I have absolutly no clue what this man looks like. I only know that he's average height and has what looks to be a second grader and a preschooler.  Actually, not really him so much as the idea of him. The idea of the dad who walks his children to and from school (I think he works from home) just squeezes my chest until tears pop up. I SO desperatly want that for my kids.

I mean, I didn't think about them when I got married and they ended up with someone who woud have either found 10,000 excuses to NOT do it or only go with a beer in hand. While I never, never, never in a million years would ever, ever, ever, ever, ever want my ex back, I can't help but morn what I wasn't able to give them-an Ultimate Dad.  *sniff

However, I want to take a moment to thank Ultimate Dad and other Dads of his ilk for being phoneminal dads. I'm sure there are times when you may not be appriciated as you should, but know that your job is amazingly important. I thank you for you give me hope.

(And Moms married to these Dad's, please know that I am sinfully envious of you. Whenever you get a bit fed up with his shenanigans, remember how lucky you are to have a real dad for your precious children. Not all of were so lucky.)

Soap Box Over!

Thank you and Good Night.

Let it Burn!!

I just HAVE to tell you guys what happened today!!! I received a letter from the ex. (You, know, whatshisname.)

Anyway, I decided to read the letter because, "whynot right?" and I wanted to laugh out loud. Actually, I think I did laugh out loud. then I immediately handed it to my Pop to read and MJ read it after that. It was almost like I was in jr high letting all my friends read the creepy guy note after I'd already told him to buzz off. It was purely meant to humiliate the sender and vindicate my decision to tell him to buzz off. (This is a hypothetical situation only for me. I was never the mean girl, even when I really wanted to be (that's yet another post I guess). I was, however, often the "friend" that got to read the humiliating letters.)  

Regardless...he wrote to tell me happy birthday. In fact, the exact wording was, "I know you birthday isn't until next Monday..." 

BUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What an amazing testament to our eight (count them eight) year marriage. For those playing the home game, my birthday is on Tuesday the 28th, not Monday the 27th. Nice huh? Nine years together, eight years married, two children, and he still can't remember my fucking birthday.

Happily, I only laughed at both the gaff and the letter itself because, dear friends, it bothered me not! Absofuckinglutly not!! Go me!!  If you read the previous posts you probably have a vague idea about why, but if not suffice it to say that I believe I can finally and with all certainty close the door on all of that nonsense.

It feels good to be free. And, by damn, it feels good to be me.

Smack me in the Face and Let's Start Again.

As I'm lying down to sleep, which I dearly need to do right now, I begin thinking about this search that has gotten started. It's something very akin to The Great Guy Search. I realized that every time I find myself in the vicinity of a male I instantly check out that left hand. It's almost a compulsion now. It wasn't until I was standing in the check out line in Hell Walmart that I noticed I had made a mental note of wedding rings on every male around me.

When did I become this girl? I mean, I'm not feeling some deep societal push to couple up because all of my friends are like "Meh, give it time." I'm not feeling familial pressures because my Pop has already made that one abundantly clear. I believe the conversation went something along the lines of, "I hope to hell you think you have to get married again just to make it because that's bullshit and unnecessary." I might have missed a word here or there, but that was the general message. I've always thought my Pop had such a way with words...

So, back to the whole bed thing...I'm thinking about my newest obsession with wedding rings and realize that, again, I have listened to my Pop, but not heard him. I found the kernel of doubt that has me looking searching and thinking I need a man in my life because (drum roll please) I seriously do not think it will ever be possible for me to live on my own with Things 1 and 2 without any sort of support or help from my Pop.

I mean, examining the evidence in questions so far, it's pretty plain why that issue exists. 

• teaching adjunct online
• teaching adjunct at community college
• no full time job
• no one is hiring (or at least not hiring me)
• I actually had to swallow my pride and borrow money from my Pop for my bills last month. (I get paid very erratically from U of P and won't get a ju co one until the end of Sept. Let's just say that I cried, my Pop wrote a check and couldnt' figure out how to make me not cry. It was just beyond me, but yet, he understood. Yes, pride is my Sin of choice.)
• I have 2, count them 2, children. Two.

Now when I think about "How Long" it been I am slightly deceived. Although I have been "married since June of 2009 (I don't care WHAT the law says; in my soul I was NOT married as of May 21-when I came out of my haze. Damnit!), I have only lived with my parents since after Christmas. This is what? Month 8? now in my head I should already have everything in life 4x4, but I do realize that life just doesn't work that way.

Kinda like losing weight-it took years to put it on so it'll take years to take off. Great in theory, but shitty in practice. I just hate waiting. (Humm, do I smell another bout of pride? Why, yes, yes I do!)  And it's especially hard for me because, lets face it, numbers have never been my strong suit and I have no idea what it would take for the 3 of us to live without me having constant panic attacks over what bill gets paid this month.  I always think, it was easier having two incomes...well, not really. It should have been easier, but nothing was easy living with, you know, whatshisname.

He's the reason I'm still paying off a credit card that I haven't touched since Tristan was born. thank God I've gotten the others paid off finally, but that one has a pretty hefty balance left on it and every time the bill comes in I get so pissed off I can't even see straight because I know that is because of beer, beer, nights he "had" to get out of the house and drink beer in a bar, more beer, and taking me out to eat once in a bluefuckingmoon. Did I mention beer?

Sorry...bitter rant. Should have warned you. My bad. Anyhoo...

I guess  the long and the short of the issue is that I'm afraid. There I said it. I'm afraid and I'd like someone to swoop in and take care of everything and solve all of these problems that I can't see a way out of.

Problem!!!!

Umm, last I looked at my birth certificate, it didn't say "Princess" or place silver spoon here AND the last time I got married it didn't solve a single problem.

I need to remember what started this journey. I started it. And I started it so I could make sure that I had a firm hold of "Me" so if, by some chance, since I'm not all that unfortunate looking, someone does come along I never lose me again. I started it so I could rediscover my voice and my passions and my dreams that got lost amid beer cans and nights sleeping alone.

So, like Elizabeth Gilbert says in Eat, Pray, Love...

Operation self esteem. Day fucking one.

(Take, at least, two. SNAP)

Give me a Break

I just had a long chat with my buddy, Aggie, because I received the most interesting thing in the mail today.......

a letter from "you know who"

Yep, that's right. "he" (I wanted you guys to realize that isn't capitalized on purpose) sent me a letter letting me know where he was transferred and will spend his time as a "guest of the state of MS".


Of course, he just could not stop there. Oh no!!! he had to continue...

• he goes to counseling and AA meetings now (That might be better had he done that BEFORE there was a problem-just throwing that out there)
• he prays daily for the 3 of us and is in the search for God (Keep looking, buck-O!)
• he realizes how much he has hurt me (Umm, I'm not really sure he really has a fucking clue!)
• he misses the kids and realizes he has never ween Cait walk or heard her voice (Perhaps, as before, that should have been a thought BEFORE he decided to get stupid!! just saying)

As I red the letter I found myself getting more and more pissed off and then... WHAM...tears. WTFHell!!  I mean, it's been almost a freaking year and a half since the world slipped sideways and I thought I'd made great stride in my recovery.


Now, Aggie tells me that I have, in fact made amazing strides and that it is not strange that it triggered an emotional response. We were married for 8 years after all. But it still just flies all over me that I wasted another tears, another sniffle, another second of my life thinking about him and what he has done to the kids.


You see,  I accept my responsibility in what happened. I made the choice to marry him. I made the choice to not leave him when I first became unhappy and the marriage was slipping southward. I made the choice to have not one, but two children, especially when I actually knew in my gut by the time I was pregnant with Cait that he was having an affair. God, help me I knew and I couldn't prove it. I knew it and I never had anything by my personal instincts screaming in my head. For that I take responsibility, but I do not, can not, will not ever take responsibility for the behavior exhibited by that "man" (and I use that term loosely) and the things he did to my children.


Although I must say that all of the things he took away (traditional family until, home of their own, someone to call daddy), those two little monkeys are as happy as any other kids their age, and happier in some ways. They will never have to see me cry on a daily basis or feel so sad and listless that I can hardly get out of bed or fly into a manic episode of scrubbing the entire house and then fly into a rage because someone else got credit for it or any of the countless other attractive behaviors that were pretty normal during my marriage.


So, my final question is whether I write him back to explain that I will never give him access to my children-that he allowed that ship to sail when he started fucking someone who wasn't me. he will never receive a single picture, letter, card, or drawing from from one of my children or about my children. Perhaps his parents will oblige him, but not me. Nope. Nope. Nope. Absofuckinglutly not! If the kids want to seek him out when they are adults and he is no longer a guest of the state that is between them and their personal Jesus, but Mommy aint' having a damn thing to do with it. I will not watch him hurt them again while I am in control of their lives.

To write and express my true and deep feelings or not? The Aggie says no because I do not need to become tangled up in all of that shit again, but part of me really wants to inflict as much pain as humanly possible since I cannot actually put my hands on him and physically hurt him. I'm not normally a violent person, but I have been spoiling to hit someone or something for about a year now since I never got the opportunity to look him dead in his eyes and hit him with the biggest thing I could grab in my little hands. And trust me, I can sharpen my word into tiny, poisonous daggers that will need heal properly, but is it worth it? Will it just make it harder to leave it all behind me? Or will I just always want that last taste of finality that only a scathing letter can truly bring? Perhaps I should write it and not send it, much like my letter to that girl.

What say you, faithful few? I trust your learned opinions. Write and send? Write and don't send? Don't write and leave it alone? Leave me a little message so I can take everyone's pulse to help make my decision.

I will say this...I do forgive. It is not aulturistic though; I forgive him only because it is good for MY soul. Right now the only thing rconcerning around my little mind is the well-being of my little three person family-Me, Cait, and T. Everything else in the world is just lagniappe and I will deal with all of that as I feel like it...and right now, I'm not really feeling like it.

Strange Realizations

So, my friend, D, and I were chatting last night, discussing our amazing lack of lives, when I was totally caught off guard with what should have been obvious. When she and I talk about these things we want we are actually talking about vastly different things.

I said I wanted a social life. (Now this is the part where I admit that I actually sabotage myself from having a social life. The longer I at home, without said life, the more likely I am to stay that way. I even start to make up excuses and plot how to NOT go anywhere. It almost feels like I make myself agoraphobic. Now multiply that with the guilt I feel whenever I go somewhere without the kids and my parents watch them for me. Hell, I only went to the gym once this past week because I just felt terrible and selfish every time I thought about going. If the kids weren't asleep, I just couldn't make myself go. I feel like I have to work up as much good will with my mom as possible because my kids stress her out. She's a believer that kids should be seen and not heard and my kids just can't manage that one-my fault, I didn't raise them that way.) Anyhow, back to my story...

D, however, wants an exciting life. Now the description she presented of the "perfect, fantasy life of excitement" sounded like I would find it fun for about five minutes-perhaps ten, but definitely no longer than an hour.

I think excitement might be overrated or at least what most people consider excitement. I'm just not an adrenaline junkie. I can handle roller coasters about once a year (at best). While I drive a little fast, it makes me hyperventilate to ride with someone driving fast. I prefer to eeeeaaassse into new situations, not jump in head first. in other words, I'm a total scardy cat. I admit it.

However, I think there is something to be said about calm souls and enjoy quiet evenings as much nights out. That sounds like a whole lot of fun to me. I mean, me ex was the life of the party. Fun, outgoing, and totally bored by nights at home with me and the kids. In think that was one of the issues that prompted him to find, umm, another playmate-as it were. An evening playing with the kids and snuggling on the couch after they are in bed sounds as thrilling to me as an evening out...actually it sounds way more fun than a wild night at a club.

Ahhh my wild and crazy dreams...

The Wrap-up

So, its the end of this lovely weekend and although I should be in bed, I just can't freaking sleep. I have tried a dozen things to help me sleep, but I draw the line at warm milk. Sorry, if I don't like it cold, I sure at hell won't like it warm. Blech!

Anyway, this is my last ditch effort at sleep. I figure if I can write all of the random craziness in my brain I might, just might be able to get to sleep before my children wake up. OK now, let's start at the beginning...

Friday-massive cleaning tactics because of the Sadler invasion that evening. Picture it, six kids (whose ages range from14 to 2) and three adults in one small house. Fruit-basket-turn-over to be sure, but it was fun- claustrophobic, but fun.

I got to hear an almost play-by-play for a good friend of mine fall in love over the weekend. I'm so excited for her because she deserves to be happy so badly. She would send me random messages about things he would say or do. Totally swoon worthy! Although he has a brother, I'm actually wondering if I can get him cloned. lol  Actually, its the first time a friend of mine found happiness in boyland that I felt not even the smallest pang of envy because I didn't have one too. Maybe I've realized that it will come when it comes, or not. I certainly do not relish the idea of being alone, but I'm not afraid of it anymore. That's a big step for me. I'm letting go of my perceptions of pretty much everything. I'm going to create my own time and space from what works for me and not what is The Status Quo. I can now wrap myself up in the idea of being whole and solid on my own instead of needing another half.

I sometimes, wondering, because in writing it is so hard to detect particular inflections that show up verbally, if people mean comments the way I take them. In a chat it easier because you can ask, but on a random comment...all but impossible. However, I have decided that if it makes me happy to take a comment a particular way, I'm going to do just that because it hurts no one if I do.  So there. 

Today I watched my Brother-in-Law play beaseball with my kids (and his too). He ticked and hugged and even let Cait put bows in his hair and while I loved him for it, it didn't make me sad.  I think that's HUGE  for me. No, no, I know it's HUGE for me. I didn't think of what my kids were missing out on; instead, I simply enjoyed the moment of watching them play and of beign in the background.  (Seriously, by the 100,000th Mommy, you'd have to be deaf not to need a time out. I don't care what anyone says.) 

In the next few weeks, the final push to get whatshisname completely ripped from our lives will be in full effect. He will not have a single right to them AND they will have MY name and not HIS name. We will all have my name. While I am still in contact with his family, because his family didn't fuck everything up he did, I think it's better that the kids do not have that "name" hanging over them forever. Plus, it is be the sweat of MY brow that clothes, feeds, shelters, spoils, loves and discliplines them so they should have MY name. I don't even mind going back to the middle of the alphabet; at least the McCs come before the rest of the Ms.

Ah, so enthused by so little...Oh, I also have written absolutly nothing sice Friday. Nope, not a word, sentence, phrase, nada! Why? Umm, did you read above the vast number of people that were in this house this weekend? Yeah, that's why. I plan on making it up this week and continuing my push to finish. I think I will concentrate on filling in gaps that bother me since I've changed stuff half way in. I have copious notes of changes and additions that keep floating in front of my eyes while I'm writing so I guess I should go ahead and get that done so I can figure out the rest of the story. It's getting pretty good, but I still don't knwo who the bad guy is. There are several contenders who have motive and oppotunity, but I just do not know how it will turn out. I have no idea if that is good or bad either, but it certainly is the way it's going.

Ok, perhaps I can sleep now. I sure hope so since I can feel my eyelids sinking....G'Night!

Taking Responsibility

It's been a year now. A year since my marriage ended and time that I identify and take responsibility for my role in what was a "pretty on the outside and ugly on the inside" marriage.

Don't get me wrong, I certainly don't think I caused this, but I do not think I necessarily helped either. You see I had a list. Yep, a list of things that would make a good boyfriend/husband. I thought I had hit some sort of weird jackpot because he met every requirement on that list; in addition to that, he met lists that weren't on the list also. I used my head...checked off my list and pushed in my chips. Done.

What I didn't do was hand over the keys to me. I held back a small piece of myself that, truthfully, I've hidden from everyone. hell, I'd almost forgotten it was there until recently.  So, while I was throwing every once of attention, support, and loyalty into my marriage I ultimately left out two major things...love and trust. Why? Well, suffice it to say, I never really intended anyone to get them. They are messy and more likely than not, will end up exploding in your face. I thought I was safer to keep part of myself back. (Gee, no wonder I was so ecstatically happy all the time.) No shit, I thought him loving me as much as he did would be enough to carry me through life. I didn't believe in fairy tales...they just didn't happen to girls like me.

Strangely enough, as most chicks in my situation, the divorced-single Mom favor, as anti-fairy tale- No longer believing in love or anything resembling it. Me? I finally do.

Isn't that both fucked up and hilarious?!

Just when I should be raging against love, I finally think I'd like to try it. Why? I feel like I was saved from my life because something better was planned for me. I guess I prayed hard enough to God, The Universe, and every other Deity in the world that they collectively decided to give me what I least expected...happiness.

Now, I have found this happiness and love? Nope. Will I find this happiness and love? Truthfully, I don't know. I think I will, but I now know that nothing is certain in life. However, I think the greatest gift I've been given is the  realization that I short-changed myself and my ex-husband, and for that I am sorry. But I have the opportunity to make it up to myself and actually be willing to accept and give love. Will I go searching under every rock until I come find it? Will I create a page long list of requirements that this imaginary man must reach? Nope. I'm good. I did that the last time remember? I have totally learned my lesson.

Love will come to me when it does. When I have made my peace with myself, with my life, with those around me, with The Universe. How do I know this?

Because I deserve it AND because I now believe in fairy tales.

And I'm proud to say that that is the first time I have EVER been able to say that in my entire life.

Willing Ex

A friend of mine posted a movie poster on FB of The Expendables (I think that's what it was) which is an uber-guy, bang-bang-shootemup movie coming out in August. I was curious enough to at least SEE what the silly thing was about when I found myself staring at this beautiful man I'd love to be my next ex...Jason Statham. 

OMG, he's just SOOOO yummy!  I have no clue what exactly makes him sooo appealing to me. Is it the rough and tumble exterior that hints at a soft, dreamy inside? Mischievous twinkle in his eyes? hard, but not overly muscled body? The super sexy accent? (Humm, yeah, the accent is a REALLY big part of it.)

If anyone out there knows of a similar specimen please let me know because I'm totally game.