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!!

In Honor of Being Sneaky

I have been racking my brain since I signed up for my friend's blogfest at Cerebral Lunchbox to figure out exactly what to write about. You see, we are supposed to write about a time when we screwed someone over (or got screwed over ourselves) in honor of just how badly the native Americans were screwed over when the first "pale face" stepped foot off a boat.

Ahhh...that was a fine bit of nasty sneakiness wasn't it?

Of course, I totally feel remorseless because every person who would create the future genetics of me were either chillin in Ireland or being of the screwed over Choctaws. Therefore, I can SO talk all the shit I want.

But I believe I digress...I still have to think of something witty and creatively intelligent to say about being screwed over. Grrrr... So here's the thing, I started this blog because I was screwed over. Like Royally So! (If you are new here I really don't want to go into it but feel free to rifle through old posts to hear all about whatshisname and all of the fun we had while married. Whoa palatable sarcasm. Too much?) Anyway...

Since I can conjure up any examples of a time when I deliberately screwed someone over in a malicious way (I'm one of those people that's just too damn nice for her own good. It's disgusting really.) I figured I'd talk about how I subtly subject my little children to being screwed over in small amount each day. (Having half of my genes they too, are too nice for their own good too.)

Now, before anyone calls DHS on me, just read on because it's more about being sneaky than really being mean...because it's all about leaving the house.

You see my babies tend towards being Mommy Clingy (even now I'm typing this one handed because Cait is laying beside me holding my hand. Not hating, just saying.) and the love to go places. They love riding in cars (I'm so thankful they are good trip takers, but I think that's another post). They love going shopping They love people watching. Basically, it's obvious that we share genetics because I'm the same way, I just like to go and be out. Now most of the time I take them wherever I go, but there are times when Mommy needs a break. A Break, do you hear me?! 

I have never never never understood those "Martyr Mommies" that insist that they love to live for their children's every waking moment and breathe. Seriously? Did you just move here from Stepford or are you diseased? Don't get too close I'm afraid whatever it is you have will rub off on me and I will forget how to be Jamie. Personally, I think they are lying because they think that's what woman/mommies are supposed to do. Yeah, umm not so much here...Anywhoo, I digress yet again, sorry...

So back to my break. I do not get them very often, but when I do I am ready and out the door in 5 minutes flat!!! I do not want to waste a single second to sweet freedom and quiet, but I am almost always left with the problem of how to get out of the door unnoticed. Now Tuesday nights, when I have class, they are nonplussed about me leaving then because they know that mommy works on that night, but any other time I have tiny tots scrambling for shoes and trying to barricade the door by the time I get there. "I go. I go!!" Sigh

How do I get them out of the way so I can sneak out and enjoy my time alone? Oh, I'm a total sneak and, thankfully, my parents share this trait and have no problem with bribery. I usually send them into the den under the guise of "Poppa has a treat for you guys" and as soon as they round the corner to the den, I silently slide out the door.

Now it doesn't always work and there have been times I have left them yelling and banging on the door, and yes, as a matter of fact, I can here them as I walk to the car. And yes, I do continue to walk to the car. Why?

Three reasons:

1. My parents will bribe them with candy or food to make them stop.
2. They will be over it and be completely fine in 60 seconds.
3. By the time I'm willing to leave without distraction, I need to go. Seriously. Need. To. Go.

Does this make the world's worst Mommy? While so many think so, I tend to belive that perserving my sanity makes me a much better Mommy...sneakiness and all.  

Unreal

Do you ever get random calls on your phone from unidentified numbers? Yea, we all do, right? Truthfully I don't think about it because I have online students from everywhere and I tell them to feel free to call and leave a message. You see, I don't answer strange numbers.


Well, the past few days I've had a new number pop up, but not a new class. I should know all the numbers that call me. I just figured that whomever it is would eventually leave a message of he/she wanted to talk to me.


Anyway, the strange number totally left a message today...And guess who it was?


Come on, you can do it.


Just a guess...


Give up?


If you guessed my ex-husband you'd be right. Give yourself a cookie. I mean, really, what the Fuck people?! What in the name of hell makes that sonofabitch think I want to talk to him? Besides his obviously delusional state, that is.


How annoying? Not only do I have to get a letter a month, nut now phone calls too?!!!? Now, if I were receiving ANY sort of monetary support, I would be willing to endure some sort of contact, but I'm not now will I ever receive any...so Fuck him.


Seriously, how do I get rid of him? I want all of it to stop. Is everything he did and put me through not enough that must also put up with this shit too? For real? Dammit!!!


Of course, I was chatting with my Aggie friend and asked him to imagine how unbearable he'd make my life if he weren't actually in jail. His reply, "Jamie, you wouldn't have left him if he hadn't gone to jail." Sigh...damn I hate being known so well.

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