Elvis Has Left The Building.. Kinda Sorta

I have to say this.

Anyone who knows me outside of this blog :: and some that know me only through this blog :: knows that when when push comes to shove, I’ll always do the right thing. And, I have a very strong moral compass. There’s just somethings you don’t do.. and things that you must maintain responsibility for especially when someone’s very existence is involved and even if things don’t turn out the way you wanted / hoped / thought.

Meet Elvis, Chief’s oldest nephew by his oldest brother, Houdini.

Houdini was young when he got Elvis’ mom pregnant :: come on, are you surprised?? :: and when Elvis was an infant, Houdini got into some kind of trouble with the law and booked. Just left his car wherever he had crashed it and took off to parts unknown. One of those “parts” happened to be the Philippines where he met a woman, may have or may not have married her and returned to the states.

From what I understand, he’s been in at least 40 of the 48 continental united and not only continued to spread his seed all over the damn place but does so under assumed names.

I honestly don’t think I want to know more then that.

Anyway..

Elvis’ mother left the area when Elvis was 6 months old.. hooked up with this guy and then that guy and wound up in a few different states before ending up in Vegas.

Elvis’ life was less then ideal. Never knowing his father. Never knowing that he had family who spent a great deal of time and money trying to find him before giving up when he was 6 because someone told someone who told someone else that Elvis had passed away.

What really happened was that Elvis’ mother had had another baby that, sadly, had died from SIDS and whoever the first “someone” was, didn’t really communicate the situation properly.

Elvis was a troubled kid who spent half his life (he’s now 30) in and out of jail for various reasons. Least of which was his inherited temper and need of anger management.

Last year, through the beauty of Facebook :: where else? :: Elvis started to loosely connect with the family his mother took him from… me being one of them.

And then he promptly went back to jail on a probation violation. Or a parole violation. I still don’t know what the difference is but he violated something and back in he went.

Me… being me.. and have this inane desire to heal wounded birds.. started writing to him in jail almost daily.. put money on his books every payday :: for those of you who haven’t had the fortune of supporting someone in jail, “putting money on the books” basically means adding money to his jail bank account so that he can buy things like deodorant, paper, envelopes, etc.).:: and basically filled him in on his family. I stayed in contact with his mother :: again, another FB connection :: and all his return mail was filled with optimism and how he was getting too old for this shit and how he wanted to change his life when he got out.

Now, I’m not fool. I know that people find God in war trenches and people in jail swear they’re going to change. But, like I said, I’ll give any one a second chance until they prove me wrong so while I was cautiously optimistic, I had every intent on doing whatever I could to help him out.

What I didn’t know then was that Elvis was also in contact with Chief’s OTHER brother, Douchebag.

NOTE: Chief has three brothers. Houdini is the oldest, Douchebag is the second born and then Chief and Sarge are the twins.

Douchebag is a douchebag for a lot of reasons. He thinks he is the center of the universe.. waxes poetic in 3am drunken rants about how important family is and how he’s the self appointed “patriarc” of the family (even though his father is still alive and kicking) but really doesn’t give a rats ass about anyone or anybody unless there’s something in it for him. He has one biological daughter, a lesbian with “daddy” issues that he can’t control :: she is 21 for Pete’s sake :: and does everything possible to make her life as miserable as she makes his. Let’s just say he has major issues.

When I found out that Elvis was in touch with Douchebag and that Douchebag offered to fly him out of Vegas to his compound in forrest, promising him the yellow brick road to getting his life in order I was more then suspicious. In fact, I didn’t think it was anywhere near a good idea for a few reasons but mainly because I felt that Douchebag had a hidden agenda. That being that he would be able to “control” Elvis in ways that he wasn’t able to control his daughter.

I voiced my concerns to Elvis’ mother.. and then once he was released, I voiced them to Elvis.

A lot of things happened in the time between when he was released to when he flew out here. Mainly, he had a argument with his mother’s boyfriend and got kicked out of their home. So he was on the streets in Vegas with no where to go .. no money.. and no options.

A lot happened and a lot of opinion changing was going on but that’s a minor point in the story so I’ll skip it.

Douchebag did fly him out here and after a brief pit stop at my house, Douchebag and his tw*t wife drove to my house to pick him up. I don’t like his wife. She’s phony and pretentious and has delusional thoughts. They’re a perfect match.

I had a heart to heart with Elvis about keeping his nose clean.. being a good influence on Douchebag’s daughter and not falling into his old habits of drinking and smoking weed. Especially because Douchebag drinks and his daughter smokes weed. I told him, basically, that he’s the only one at the table with anything to lose.. and what he would lose is everything. Keep his distance… be respectful and appreciative.. and most of all, if things start to turn into something that’s going to get him in any kind of trouble to call me.

I don’t live close to Douchebag. Forty minutes one way. But I kept extending the invitation for family dinners and twice I drove out there, picked him up, and drove him back. That was it. All the letter writing and money and support that I extended didn’t seem to mean anything because he took up with Douchebag’s daughter and her friend.. was getting drunk and getting high… and they would get drunk with Douchebag and his wife. Black out drunk.

Mind you, I find all this out through Facebook posts. I hadn’t heard from him after the second week he was in the state.

I was beyond offended but you know what? I have other things going on in my life and they’re all adults who know the game but it wasn’t until they all blew off the duel party we had for the baby’s 1st birthday and Bubba’s graduation AND Elvis friended the crack whore’s brother on Facebook that I was done.

The only thing that changed was who he was doing his shit with. So I “unfriended” all of them from my FB account. Wiped my hands and that was that.

Come on.. you know it wasn’t going to be that easy!

About three weeks ago, I get this bizarre email from Douchebag at 4am saying that Elvis is on his way to my house. Then, a few hours later, his tw*t wife called and told Chief that they had all been drinking the night before and Douchebag said something smart-ass about Elvis and Elvis freaked out and punched him. She didn’t want him on their property anymore and wanted Chief to drive out there.

Chief wasn’t about to do that. He was the only one who saw Elvis for what he is… that being his nephew, yes, but also a stranger who knew nothing except being in a cage for half his life. Yes, he wanted him to succeed, yes he wanted to develop a relationship with him eventually but he told Douchebag from the jump that he needed to treat Elvis like a man.. and make him find a job so that he could build a life.

Douchebag did the opposite. He kept him on the “plantation”, completely reliant on him for everything. He had him to odd jobs on the property to “earn his keep” without affording him the opportunity to make money and move on.

So this fight happens and guess what’s next? Yep, my phone is blowing up with calls from Elvis. Oh, now you want to contact me? Now you need my help?

I honestly thought that when everyone became sober and cured their hangovers, pride would be put on the back burner and at the very least, Elvis would be heading back to Vegas.

That didn’t happen.

Douchebag through him off his property.. told him not to come back or he’d call the police and charge him with trespassing and his tw*t wife took whatever belongings he did have and dumped them in a McDonald’s parking lot. They wiped their hands and that was it. Left him with nothing.. no money.. no people.. no phone.. no transportation.. Nothing.

He was fortunate that he had met a girl just before this happened and she let him crash on her couch but it wasn’t going to be a permanent thing and if his DNA holds true, the situation was going to get to him and he was going to find himself out on the street.

I had an attack of conscience after mulling everything over. We were the only other people in THE STATE the he knows. I don’t have the room for him to stay here.. in fact, my house isn’t big enough for the people who already live here.. but I thought that I could at least help him find a job.

So I’ve been trying to do it but it’s hard because he has a serious record.. he doesn’t have a local license.. he doesn’t have a phone.. every detriment you can think of, it’s on him.

But, in a way, he brought it on himself. He had just taken my advise and stayed away for anything mind-altering, things would be different. If he had stayed in contact with me, things would have been different. But everyone made their bad choices and I can’t be the one to keep cleaning up things for people who don’t appreciate what I’ve already done.

And the Douchebag? He brought him out her. Regardless of what happened, he was responsible for him. You just don’t cut someone loose with no options.. with no means of anything.

That didn’t sit right with Chief and piled on top of everything Douchebag had done, said and did in the last few years it would be best for his well being if he stays far.. far away from Chief.

I haven’t heard anything from Elvis since last week. I’m not sure if any of the story he gave me was true. One minute he’s saying how great this girl is and the next day it’s hell.

I want to help.. but I don’t know what I really can do.

Now.. where the hell is my reality show contract??? Shhhsh!!!

Baby Mama Drama -or- My Weekend In Dallas (No, Not Texas)

Dallas, Pennsylvania.

Who knew.

Anyway.. see that green star? That’s where the Baby Mama’s is currently residing in a half way house.

See that red dot where Philadelphia is? That’s where I live. Well, just a little further then a smidge south-west of the city.

Still.. we’re talking 100+ miles.

Pennsylvania is a big state. Not as big as Texas.. but big, none the less.

So just to give you a little ketchup .. ( ha! Ketchup = catch up!! I amaze myself sometimes with my silliness!).. Baby Mama was in jail when she gave birth on June 13th. She wasn’t released from jail until January something. I think the 4th or 7th or something. In the month prior to her release she called practically every night. I have nothing really to talk to the girl about. I don’t even KNOW the girl sober for crying out loud. But she was calling about her kid and at the time, it was a hell of alot more then Weed was doing.. and he was OUT of jail. So she would call and I would half pay attention to the 30 minute allotted phone call. And when it was time for her to be released, I took the day off from work and me and Chief drove up to the prison with the baby to pick her up.

THAT was a whole event in itself that’s for another post because.. O! M! G! .. who knew that the security guards treated the people picking up offenders like THEY were offenders themselves? Considering who is shipped to this prison, maybe they are.. but still.

Anyway..

I had kept the tree up.. had bought her Christmas gifts from the baby.. and not because I had any emotional attachment to this girl. BUT, she is the Baby Mama and (as I told her).. you only get one chance to fuck up. I’m all about second chances but don’t ever take my kindness for my weakness. Big no-no.

So she gets out and it’s awkward because I don’t know what to say to her.. she don’t know what to say to us.. we have her kid.. she doesn’t know who her son is as a little person after all these months.. etc. etc. etc. But, she knows that she can’t do anything to benefit his life and as long as she was walking the straight and narrow, we would have an open door policy for her to see him.

Now, that may sound very generous but remember, she’s a junkie and couldn’t wait to run across the open fields of heather with the breeze blowing through her buzzed hair into the arms of Weed. Weed was still using at this time.. was staying with Chief’s brother Sarge until he stole a bottle of Oxy’s from him (Sarge has a legal prescription from a back surgery gone wrong) and had been holing up with his crack-whore mother because he gave her half the bottle. Nice, right?) so I may not be the best at math but I do know what 2+2 equals.

She would come by to see the baby. Maybe twice a week.. maybe more.. maybe less.. can’t remember. But it wasn’t everyday and it wasn’t for long periods of time. And then by the second week of February, nothing. No phone calls, no emails, no text messages .. just dropped off the face of the earth.

We found out about a week and a half later that she had tested hot at her last PO visit and was sent back to jail.

NOTE: For those of you who don’t have to deal with junkie step kids and their jail records, “testing hot” means failing the mandatory drug tests that comes with probation. Just stick with me, you’ll learn the lingo quick enough. I did!

From jail she went to rehab and from rehab she was court ordered to a half way house.

We found all this out after the fact.

We had been receiving phone calls from a 570 area code but I’m not one that answers unfamiliar numbers and a voice mail was never left so I just figured my cell number was on some kind of list. It wasn’t until I got an email from her basically accusing us of changing our phone number because we didn’t want anything to do with her.

Like I said… drama.

So I emailed her back.. told her what I just told you. That’s how I found out her details and where the half way house was.

She started bugging us around May to take the baby to visit her. Bugging may not be the right word but she kept on asking. And I kept on telling her that it all hinged on my finances.

Could I have made the trip up and back in one day and a tank and a half of gas? Yes.

Could I do that with a baby who’s mobile and hates being in the car seat? Hell-freakin-NO!

So we would have to stay over.. which meant a hotel.. which meant food.. which meant a whole lot of things that isn’t in my normal budget. Anybody with any brain cells could comprehend.. but she’s a junkie, remember?

So the more I couldn’t take the baby to see her the more her warped mind went into fantasy-land. Her fantasy-land when it concerns the baby is a dangerous place to travel. Not that any court.. regardless of how much they want to (cough) keep the family intact (cough) .. would award her custody but it’s just the fact that I would have to go through the bullshit. And since she would have to hire an attorney .. I would have to hire an attorney and quite frankly, I would prefer to pay my electric bill then a lawyer.

So fine. You want to spend the afternoon with a 12 month old who wants what he wants when he wants it and all be damned if he can’t run across a room of broken glass barefooted? You want to spend it with a child who is just learning to use a spoon and therefore refused to be fed unless he can feed himself which means you’ll have more yogurt or cereal in your hair then he does? Don’t forget the flesh pinching (he thinks he’s tickling you).. hair, earring, necklace pulling..? Screeching.. pooping.. wailing… ?? You go right ahead.

Now, please don’t be mistaken. If it was solely up to me, I would have given her a not-so-polite PISS OFF. But in order to get the fantasy of having her son full time out of her head, she needed to spend sometime with him.

NOTE: I was less then thrilled with leaving him with her but Chief did a good job of explaining that he would be safe because it was a controlled environment. She isn’t allowed to be alone with him.. there were medical personal on duty at all time and other women who had raised children. I deferred. Reluctantly. Actually, kicking and screaming but (shrug).

So we decide to drive up on a Friday. Chief felt it would be better for the baby. I think he just wanted to have an extra-night’s sleep without dogs hogging the bed. We check into a Days Inn.. which was, you know, a Days Inn in Wilkes Barre, PA (where EVERYONE looks like a Walmart greeter).

Timbo loved being in a hotel room. He spent the next FOUR hours running from one end of the room to the other with his little arms up in the air making his “Deet Deet Deet” happy noises. Me? Not so excited. I didn’t want to be there. Was exhausted from not only the drive but from working a full day before we left. Did I mention I didn’t want to be there?

He finally fell out exhausted around 11:00 and since he was going to be sleeping on a bed, I laid on one side of him not getting any sleep at all because I was afraid he’d wake up in the middle of the night.. climb out of bed.. and make his way down to the truck stop and take candy from a guy with three names in a white panel van.

Hey listen.. everyone has irrational fears when it comes to their kids. Leave me alone!

So no sleep and a baby that woke up at 5am just as excited as the night before! Lovely.

Finally Baby Mama calls us right before we’re about to leave to see her and tells us that the address she gave us in the email? Yea, not the right one. That’s the address their mail goes to, but the actual place she’s staying is like 30 miles north of where we the hotel was.

30 miles. NOT a typo.

When asked for an address for the GPS, she comes up with some cockamayme address that it doesn’t recognize. Basically, she had no fucking clue and the search was on to find someone inside the half way house who DID know where the fuck they where.

Way long story short.. we finally get there and Chief was treated to the sight of skanky junkies sunbathing along the side of the road. He’s scarred for life.

But we did what we had to do.. met who we had to meet.. made sure the boy was going to be in good hands and reluctantly made our way back to the hotel to sleep for at least an hour before we had to go pick him up. Which we did and promptly took him back to the hotel to scrub the skank off of him.

We stayed another night at the hotel and left on Sunday morning. We took the back roads home because, you know, this was going to be the only “vacation” WE would have and at least wanted to SEE something other then skank junkies sunbathing to make the whole trip worthwhile. That took 4.5 hours because stupid us didn’t realize that that was POCONO DOWNS weekend and every race car enthusiast from as far away as Mars was in the area trying to get into the Pocono Raceway on a two lane road.

Anybody forget that there was a baby in a car seat that he doesn’t like being in?

By the grace of God we made it home safe and about 600.00 poorer. Like I said in another post, we live paycheck to paycheck and this is going to put a dent in our budget. Going up there meant I had to pay half on the utilities (the other half this coming paycheck).. reduce the food bill.. all that creative budgeting stuff.

And here’s the kicker. But first let me offer apologizes if my head explodes (again) while I type this…

When we went to pick up Timbo up, Baby Mama tells us that her stint in Dallas is over on July 22nd and that she’s trying to find a sober house closer to us in one of the other two counties (one of those counties currently has Weed as a resident).

Like, really?

REALLY?

So I just spent a hell of a lot of money to drive all the way up to Bum-fuck, Pennsyl-tucky and you’ll be moving within an hour from us in some direction on JULY 22ND????????

TWO WEEKS???

EXCUSE ME, MS. FEEL-SORRY-FOR-ME-BECAUSE-IM-A-JUNKIE-THAT-HAD-MY-BABY-IN-JAIL-THAT-THE-STATE-TOOK-AWAY-SO-IM-A-VICTIM.

NO.. you’re NOT a victim. You still do whatever it is you do and the only person who lost ANYTHING was me. I lost my ability to sleep when I want.. buy what I want.. go where I want.. do what I want. I’m the one paying the consequences for your mistakes.

And I unleashed all the pent up anger and frustration and everything else that was pent up because of this whole situation right on Rt 309N and next to the skanky junkie sunbathers.

Don’t get me wrong.. my grandson is the center of my universe. Everything I do, I do for him. He is the light in my life and a blessing each and every day I wake up.

I think you know where I’m coming from, though, right? Can you stop being selfish for one nano second and think of the people who are raising your kid.. and doing all with any assistance for anybody or any government agency?

Sorry.. I think I have to clean up the rest of my brains that exploded on the ceiling again!

Moving Forward.. Looking Back

I guess it would be best to bring everyone up to date on what’s been going on the past year but I’m not going to bore you with a million word post… I’ll bore you with a million little posts!!

But at least it will give you some idea on how the chess pieces moved and who’s doing what and the what-not:

CHIEF

Since bringing the baby home in July 2012, Chief’s been playing “Mr. Grand-mom”. There really wasn’t a choice. He hadn’t been seriously working since we closed our deli and the disaster that was his job at the country club. Not that I can blame him. When you’re a 4-star rated chef and promised a position (which turned out to be promised to everyone, including the potato peeler) and you were basically doing a job that pays better at McDonald’s, I’d wouldn’t have ditched them to. But everything happens for a reason and not two months after he quit, we had a baby to raise. I give him credit.. he takes care of the baby, Spaz, cleans the house, does the laundry.. and find’s time to do the “man” stuff like mow the lawn and fix the roof.

WEED

Still deciding if I want to dedicate ANY posts to him.. so weary of his shit.. but I do have to say that he is currently in a “sober house” in another county after doing yet another stint in jail and rehab. According to Chief, he’s doing good. He has a job, has to pay rent or he’s out on the street and meets with his P.O. ( that’s “parole officer” for those of you who haven’t had the fortune of having a junkie stepson!) monthly. Those monthly meetings are in our county so that’s when he stops over the house to see the baby. Mind you, I’m at work during these visits and never-rarely have the misfortune of having to actually speak or see him so the above is based solely on Chief’s perspective. Whatever.

BUBBA

Since his crack-whore mother put him out on the street when he was 16, he’s been living with the family of one of his friends. Best thing for him because he had to straighten up and fly right.. something he couldn’t do in a household that he felt was obligated to care for him and put up with his shit. He turned 18, graduated high school, works at Wendy’s and says he wants to enlist. He did go to the enlistment office but they were closed so .. who knows. He comes over on Sunday’s for dinner and I still have barely anything to do with him because with all the good he has accomplished, he still hasn’t offered anything close to an apology for the hell he put me through. For those that care, here’s a pic of him and Chief on his graduation day. Honestly, I just want to show off my husband!!

.. in case you’re confused, Bubba is the one in the cap and gown!

SPAZ

Spaz has actually turned out to be the best of the lot.. and yes, I will take full credit for that! He just finished his Freshman year of high school and has really pulled his academics around since moving to the new school district. Well, “turn around” may be wishful thinking on my part. Let’s face it, he’s not an Einstein but there wasn’t one day last year that he pretended to be sick to stay home from school. I’ll take it where I can get it! He is more upfront about his grades, doesn’t try to use bullshit excuses anymore, is taking accountability and all that. He’s also more respectful towards me and Chief and is doing little chores around the house without being asked. It helps too that his crack-whore mother is doing a stint in prison. The less she’s in his life the more calm and settled he is.

TIMBO

The baby is now 20.5 lbs .. even though my 48 year old back swears he’s 50 lbs. Is in the 45th percentile in high and currently has no residual affects from being born addicted to heroin. He’s walking.. faster every day.. his motor skills are on track (even a little advanced) and he’s just a happy, happy little boy.

ME

I changed jobs in may and am now a regional revenue cycle manager for a national company. Don’t be impressed. I ain’t all that! But I love my job and love the people I work with (actually, they were the original people I started working for 2 years ago but it’s too complicated to go into right now). Fortunately, I’m able to support my family myself. It’s still paycheck-to-paycheck but at least I’m not in the minus anymore on the Wednesday before pay!

So life is good. Life is always good, it’s just a matter of perspective and recognizing that what you went through then is what’s putting you here now. Go with the flow and manage the damage. And pray. Because if it wasn’t for prayer and faith, who knows how things would turn out.

Oh.. and the other cast of characters that routinely show up here:

The Crack Whore – like I said, she’s doing a stint in prison. Karma bitch slapped her because everything always comes back and bites you in the ass. Can’t say I don’t chuckle over her situation during the few times her name comes up.

Baby Mama – Like Weed, she’s in a half-way house upstate. FAR upstate. She got out of jail in January and went right back to doing her shit with Weed and landed back in jail in February. We took the baby up to see her last weekend. Another post for a later date. My mother, especially, was pissed that we made the trip but I’ll go more into detail when I post. If you’re a long time reader then you know that there’s a reason for everything I do!!

Elvis – Haven’t talked about Elvis before. He’s Cheif’s oldest nephew and became a semi big part of our lives fairly recently. But of course, where ever Chief’s family is concerned, drama ensues so I’ll have to go into all that at a later date

My laptop battery is dying so I’ll close for now.. but wow! aren’t you just looking forward to the details yet to come!! :)

FINALLY!! Free Time To Post!!

Knock.. Knock!!

Hello?

Anybody.. um.. out there??

Oh! Hey! How are you? Waiting long? Yea.. sorry. My days have been kinda consumed. (shrug).. I know.. I know.. no excuse but… Oh! Hey! Hold still a minute.. you have some cobwebs hanging off you.

There you go. Oh.. no problem. It’s the least I can do since you’ve been hanging around so long waiting for me.

What have I been up to?

THIS GUY!

Yep.. my 5lb 8oz drug addicted grandson is now a healthy, strong, stubborn 13 month old! It’s been a long year.. it’s been a fast year.. it’s been fun, frustrating, sleep deprived, rewarding, drama filled.. pick a word and I can guarantee that I have a story for it!

But I wouldn’t change any of it if it meant that I wouldn’t have that face smooshing mine.. or have those little arms grab onto my legs when I come home from work.

So listen.. I’m going to go grab some coffee and catch you up.

And hey.. thanks! It’s good to be back, too!