Whoa.
Hmmm.
Spaz was at the shop this afternoon when I got there after work. He didn’t have a particularly good day at school and told me his teacher was going to email me.. he then asked me if he could tell me something in the back.
So we go back there and he tells me that Bubba was being a real bastard :: my word :: this morning.
NOTE: Bubba and Spaz CANNOT be in the same room together without a fight breaking out. It’s to the point where Bubba is only home when he really has to be and Spaz can’t say a sentence without trying to blame Bubba for the ills of the world. It gets very tense.. very frustrating.. and makes it impossible to take them anywhere together or even be near them.
It got so bad that both of them couldn’t be at the store in the morning without fighting and bickering and baiting each other. So for the last few months, Bubba has been leaving for school from the house and I would bring Spaz to the shop.
Before we got the van :: did I mention we got a van? No? Oh.. we got a van :: Chief would sometimes have to take my Mom-Mobile to the wholesalers before the store opened which meant, inevitably, I would be late for work.
Now, with the van, he can do what he needs to do and I can still be out of the house by 7 and get to work on time. The only problem was WHAT TO DO WITH SPAZ?
The answer was simple.. they were going to have to grow the hell up.. act like they are 11 and 14 and leave for school on time. I did it when I was their age. Younger, actually.
So we tried it one morning and Bubba wound up staying in his room until it was time to leave so there was no drama.
The SECOND time Bubba pulled an attitude and said that he will THIS WAS THE LAST TIME that Spaz was going to leave from the house.
Like.. yea.. he has just SO much say.. the little prince.
So today, Spaz asked Chief if he could leave from home and Chief said sure. Bubba went off again and Chief ripped into him. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth so I didn’t hear what was said but when Chief hollars.. he HOLLARS.
So the day didn’t start off well… so when Spaz said he wanted to talk to me, I kind of figured it was about something that happened this morning.
He told me that Bubba kept saying the “F” word.
Right or wrong, FUCK is used alot in our house. And although it really isn’t a justification, it was already being used frequently by Chief and Weed when I moved in and I use it more then my mother would like so it isn’t unrealistic to think that Bubba would say it to. He doesn’t say it in front of me or Chief but I believed Spaz 100% when he said that Bubba told him to “… get the fuck out of the house” or called him “.. a fat fuck”.
What I do take an issue with is that he told Spaz that nobody loves him.. which is Spaz’s achille’s heel.
But worse then that, supposedly, Bubba told Spaz that their crack whore mother wanted to get an abortion when she found out she was pregnant with him.
THAT.. THAT.. was a low blow.. even for Bubba. I know he meant to be hurtful but I don’t think he knows just how deep Spaz’s baggage is when it comes to his mother leaving. It’s bad enough that she never makes time for him and it always seems like he has to beg for her attention. So hearing that was NOT going to help his self esteem any.
Right away, I got defensive for him and said, “… what does he know? He was like 3.”
Chief asked me what was going on and I told him.
He.. very non-chalently.. said, “.. Oh, she wanted to abort Bubba too.”
I gave him a look like .. SHUT UP!!. and rolled my eyes towards Spaz.
I was shocked. Maybe not really “surprised” given that there are times when Chief admits that Bubba and Spaz may not really be his.. and given the fact that she did nothing but .. well.. “run” I don’t think is an accurate description since she was stripping, prostituing and had a web-sex cam gig all while he was working his ass off providing for her and the kids.
Yea.. deep, right?
I told you she was a cunt.
I know how Chief feels about abortion. Being raised in the Pentecostal church, he is definately Pro-Life.. but he told me when we first met that he couldn’t tell a woman what to ultimately do with her body.
I guess he feels differently towards it when the woman in question is his wife but whatever… it just confirmed, for me, that maybe these kids aren’t his and that was the reason why she wanted to abort them.
Maybe it’s just … I don’t know.. the universe just feels a little off kilter right now.
I’m not going to bring it up.. I really have no reason to and what happened in their marrige really isn’t any of my concern or business.
It just makes me think.
LIVING ME 101 
What happened with Bubba? What did you say to him?
Ohhhh man, see this is where is get’s hard. A part of me (the small vindictive, vigilante part) hopes that you really ripped him a new one. Perhaps even spanked the crap outta of him.
Siiiigh
And then the person who went to psychology hopes that you sat down to have have conversation with him, to find out why he felt the need to say these things to his kid brother, why he felt the need to hurt his feelings so badly and address the why instead of the result.
And the other part of me stands there, arms crossed, with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow calling the psychology part of myself a slang term for a female cat.
But then again, reading this reminds me of what it was like when I was a younger. My kid brother and I were generally pretty protective of each other…but we had our moments. And I know we had one which was pretty bad. And I keep trying to figure out what I will do when I get into that position with my own kids.
See, I’m great with other peoples kids. People are always telling me how their kids behave so much better when I’m around, how much more respectful their children are, how I can get them to do anything or TELL me anything. And it’s true, a kid that’s been festering with attitude for months or even years, will open up like a geyser after knowing me for a few weeks. It’s part of the reason why I studied child psychology….
But I didn’t go into the field because I know that I have a savior complex and a vigilante one. I would want to save everyone and beat up the bad guys myself. All the time. And I’ve never really learned a happy medium on that. It’s easy for me to control when I’m not directly emotionally involved…I’m great at getting kids back on track or giving advice and follow through…but when it’s my own kids? I am afraid I won’t do so good at it.
But I suppose we are all afraid of messing up when we become a parent, aren’t we? Whether we gave birth to them or adopted them or they just kind of fell under our protection.
I would hope that I would listen to my kids, try to see what they are thinking or why they do the things they do. And I would hope that I remember that my own father only spanked me 6 times my entire life and I remember each one and why I got it and most importantly I knew then as well as now that I deserved each and every one. I also hope I remember that my mother’s numerous spankings and beatings and smacks did nothing to really guide me and I just remember them and not the reason’s (good or bad) behind them. Too much of a good thing is not good. Then again, spare the rod and spoil the child.
Hmmmmm……
This is a thinker.
Meanwhile….what happened?