Archive for the ‘Chief’ Category

Dallas_PADallas, 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!

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!

.. 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!! :)

20120715-115925.jpg

.. that being what’s happening since I last posted.
If you need to know how the baby came about… Well, either your too young to be on this blog or you have more important things you should be researching on the Internet!

Anyway… Let’s start with Wednesday night and see how far we get. Exhaustion, y’know .. And chicken pecking on the iPad…

So..

Wednesday night I come home from work and Weed’s ass is parked on my couch. Of course it is.
Because the hospital INSISTS each adult living in the house HAS to spend at least one night with the baby I have to suffer through it Wednesday into Thursday in order for him to be released.

I come home thinking I’ll take a nap before going to the hospital because I figure I’m going to be up most of the night anyway.. Why fight sleep to boot.

So I go in my room… Put on the latest episode of The Glee Project and veg out.

And no.. I didn’t take a nap because I had to watch the latest Design Star, too.

Anyway…

A little before 7, Chief comes into the bedroom and tells me that he’s going to drive Weed back to where ever it is he goes to at night.

Oh??? Um, he’s not coming to the hospital?

Chief tells me, laden with sarcasm, the Weed told him he has ” something important” to do.

Really? Because.. Um… Seeing your infant son in the hospital isn’t important?

Chief puts his hands up in the don’t-get-me-started way and I shrug.

When he comes back, I’m already packed and ready to go so we loaded up the truck and moved to Beverly… Hills, that it.. Black gold.. Texas tea…

Heh… Sorry!! Sleep deprivation kicked in!

… We loaded up the car and drive to the hospital.

On the way there I asked Chief what does someone with no job, no place to live and a withdrawing baby have to do that soooooo important.

Chief said that Weed told him he was going to hang out with his friend, the bi-sexual prostitute druggie.

Only he said her proper name and I was like.. Are you FUCKING kidding me? I’ve known this girl for years.. All the rumors I’ve heard about her then.. And now.. Are true. ALL of them… And THIS is the something important????

Chief tells me when Weed told him where he was going to he put on the breaks and pulled the car over. He said to Weed, “Let me get this straight.. You think getting wasted and screwing the bi-sexual prostitute druggie while your son is in the hospital and his mother is in jail IMPORTANT???? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CAR”

… and he did. Think it was important and got out of the car.

Chief was BEYOND livid… And it only got worse.

I’ll post more about what happened when the baby came home and where Weed’s been for the past three days tomorrow after I find my laptop cord..

You won’t believe it.. I don’t believe it and I’m living it..

But I will part with these words of wisdom from Chief:

Let it go. I’ve been thru this with the Crack Whore.. You’ll get aggregated because they won’t tell you the truth and you’ll know they’re not telling you the truth.. It’ll bother you way more the n it’ll bother them.. That will play itself out. He’ll either get t together, OD or wind up back in jail.. In the meantime, we have this innocent little baby that will feel everything you feel.. That’s what happened with Spaz and the baby don’t deserve that because we’re suppose to be giving him a better life.

Words to live by..

Ohhhhh Kay….

… no, this isn’t my stepson. He weighs a lot more then Weed does

Weed gets out of jail Friday night. He comes over to my house Saturday morning.. stays all day. Comes back Sunday morning.. stays all day. He was a no-show on Monday and Tuesday and then yesterday and today his skinny, scabby ass was sitting on my couch not doing nothing.

Just sitting. Watching tv .. going on Facebook.. playing video games.. eating my food and using my facilities.

That first Saturday he was there, I told Chief that if Weed was planning on perching in my nest then he was going to have to put him to work doing SOMETHING. Since the baby was born, we’ve been spending a lot of time at the hospital so things around the house have been falling by the wayside a bit. The garden needs weeding.. the back porch needs cleaning.. the grass needs to be mowed. You get the idea.

Chief was completely on board with it.

… and then I mentioned it again on Sunday. And Wednesday. And before I left for work THIS MORNING.

Make him do something, Chief.. I don’t want his bony ass sitting doing nothing because he could be siting doing nothing in jail. He gets all oh-hell-yea and if he were Italian, he’d put in a fist pump for emphasis.

Right before this little convo, the baby’s Child Youth Service’s case worker called. We had to notify her that Weed was released from prison and she was calling to make sure that Weed was still on board for us to get custody of the baby. Since Weed has the Crack Whore’s phone, Chief gave her the number but told her it was 8:30am and she may not be able to reach him.

Now color me silly but to ME? .. this was kind of important, right? Like.. it’s the kind of information that you want to keep the person who’s life and finances are being altered because of this baby informed of. Right?

So after I have the convo with Chief on the front porch about making Weed do something, I drive to work and start my day.

By 3pm, I hadn’t heard anything from Chief so I give him a call and he’s all groggy because, once again, I interrupted a nap. I do feel bad about that because for one reason or another he doesn’t sleep much. Or at all, for that matter. But that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway.. so I call him and he’s asks me how my day is going and I tell him it’s going and then I ask him if anything was going on at the house.

He says something like if there was anything to tell he would have called me and I’m like.. are you kidding me?.. did the case worker get in touch with Weed? Have you heard from Weed? Did you hear from your dad? Like.. W! T! F! .. I don’t call to just shoot the shit.

He says he hasn’t heard from my father in law.. that the case worker did get in touch with Weed and he told her that he wanted us to have custody and that Weed was sitting there ON. THE. COUCH.

Oh? Well.. what was he doing?

Why, playing video games of course.

He goes on to say how pissed off he was and how he was going to tell him whatever he said he was going to tell him.

Whatever.

I was kind of put out that it was 3 in the afternoon and this whole conversation hadn’t happened yet and after hearing that you would think that he would know better then to ask me if I was going to stop at the super market on the way home to pick up dinner. Bad move. He caught on to my attitude pretty quick and apologized if he was frustrating me.

Too late, bucky.

So basically my afternoon was ruined and I got that pit in my stomach knowing that this kid was lumped on my couch doing nothing and I’m not even coming home to dinner. I don’t ask for much.. but after busting my ass all day, I like coming home and eating dinner. Call me silly.

So I got all this something or other churning around in my brain and when I get home, I am NOT in a good mood. Especially because I have to go home and then go food shopping.

I walk into the house and don’t say anything to anybody. Chief knows that I’m pissed so when I go into the bedroom to change out of my work clothes, he comes in.. closes the door.. and tells me that after he got off the phone with me he told Weed that he couldn’t hang at the house.. that he should be looking for a job.. blah blah blah fucking blah.

Whatever.

We leave to go food shopping and that takes forever. When we get home, Chief tells me that he’s going to get Spaz to help with the bags and that mentions something about IF Weed is still there he better get his ass out to help to.

Excuse me.. but where exactly WOULD he be?

Sure enough, he was there .. which meant he was going to be fed.. which really pissed me off more.

But let’s be honest.. there was NOTHING that WASN’T going to piss me off at that point.

So as we’re eating dinner, I passively aggressively ask Weed what the hell he thought his plan of life was going to be. I basically told him everything I felt Chief should have told him and added in that if he thought I was a bitch because of it then he better realize that he’s just getting poked by the tip of the iceberg.

I told him I didn’t want to here, “I’m trying”, or “it’s hard”, or “I can’t” or whatever because the only thing that would be acceptable is I START WORK TOMORROW. I told him it was pretty presumptuous of him to think that he can come up in here and act like he’s entitled to my castle like a prince with a crooked halo when I am literally flipping my whole life for 18+ years and changing every single plan I had made and taking care of his kid.

His first retort was that I didn’t have to.. that nobody is making me.. and I think when I shot up out of my chair he kind of realized he said the wrong thing because he backtracked real quick and said that he knew we didn’t have to and how lucky he was that we were. Then he kind of had a little meltdown and said through sobs and tears that we were worried more about the baby and not about him.

Not phased. At all.

I told him that HIS son was 23 DAYS old.. and HE was 23 YEARS old… get my point?

He had the good sense to shut the fuck up AND the good sense to not ask for a ride back to where he came from. When he did leave, he walked out the door the same way he walked in. No chariot waited.

Now let me just say this.. unless you walked in these Iron Fist clad feet, you have no understanding of the emotion and heartbreak and feelings of failure when your kid is a junkie. And while you can say you would do things differently.. and would have different results I’m here to tell you that those thoughts are bullshit.

I’ve watched enough “Intervention” to know that anything less then tough love is enabling. No one wants to see him get his life together more then we do. But understand, he’s not a kid. He’s an adult and if he can’t get his shit together now.. that what makes anyone think he’s going to get his shit together when he’s 25? 30? 50?

Who am I kidding.. he won’t make it to 50.

 

<– See this?

That’s me.

Well, the PICTURE isn’t me but the sentiment is the same.

Ok.. so first things first.

The baby is still in the hospital. He’s doing well.. gaining weight and filling out nicely. I’ll tell you, his ASS is healthy!! Boy of boy can that kid fill a diaper!!

I actually haven’t seen him since last Wednesday … almost a week ago.. because running off of 2 hour sleep, toast and coffee finally caught up with me and I picked up some kind of nasty something from the hospital that kicked my ass for more then a few days.

Honestly, I needed the break to catch up on the current season of Hell’s Kitchen.

Which, BTW, even I know how to cook a freakin’ scallop!! Come on, people!! :: smh ::

But I digress..

15 days old

Chief’s been going up to the hospital and even though there is no way in hell a camera in his hand is EVER a good idea, he was able to capture this little gem.

He’s a lot more alert and even though he still can’t be disturbed between his feedings, he’ll stare intently at who ever is holding him or feeding him.

Ok..

So that’s the update.

Now..

You KNOW :: or you should by now if you read me regularly :: that there’s a reason why I’m posting this here instead of on the baby’s blog.

So this past Friday night, Chief and I went to see my godson and his girlfriend. It’s usually an every two week visit because they just moved into their own place together and I like to keep tabs on him. Plus, how cool are THEY that they want to spend their Friday nights with the old folks????

This particular Friday it was out turn to go over there place and they were awesome to have bought the baby a bunch of stuff. My godson’s girlfriend is super duper excited about the baby and a fun time was had by all.

Until the ride home.

It’s about 9pm and the phone rings. It’s Weed from prison. On a free call. Which means one thing. They released him and he needed a ride home.

You want to talk about acid reflux shooting up your throat and burning a hole through your voice box?

I’m not going to go verbatim with the convos because this is going to be a long enough post as it is… but basically, Chief told him we were in another state and couldn’t pick him and to call the Crack Whore.  And then the texting started coming fast and furious and the silence.

The silence.

The silence is the worse thing of all because I know what I’M thinking… mainly.. you better not fucking tell him.. or her.. to drop him off on my doorstep.

I can only surmise.. because of the silence.. that HE’s thinking how the hell am I going to tell Leese that he’s going to be dropped off on our doorstep?

So we drive for like, another 20 minutes or so, and he’s not saying anything and I’m not saying anything. I’m not sure what his exact words were when he finally DID say something.. but it was something to the effect of “… she hasn’t texted me back so I’m guessing she’s going to pick him up”

To which, I replied “… or do you mean she’s going to pick him up and take him to our house?”

He said he didn’t say that to which I said that I didn’t know what he was saying because he wasn’t saying anything to which he responded that his mind was all spinning at a mile a minute.

Whatever.

He went on to read the text messages between them ending with the one he sent that said he didn’t care where she took him but he can’t come to our house.

Appreciated the support there but as I told him, she does what she wants to do regardless of what anyone tells her because she gets to dump her trash on anyone’s doorstep because thinks that people who work hard for what they have should have to handle whatever shit she throws at them because after all.. she doesn’t work.. she’s basically homeless.. she doesn’t have any money.. blah blah blah fucking blah.

Anyway.. I had promised Chief’s cousin Bird that I would go with her to the hospital to see her father who had had a second major surgery in 2 weeks. She had gotten a call that he was out of recovery so she had asked if I would drive out with her. So I called her before we got home and she literally pulled up my drive way behind me. I tell Chief that I’d be back soon and away me and Bird went.

It wasn’t a long visit.. I mean, by the time we got to the hospital it was almost 11pm, but we stayed a little.. spoke with the doctor.. got the tv and phone situated and that was that.

I expected Weed to be at the house when I got home but he wasn’t. I also know how long it takes to actually be released and figured it was still a possibility that he could.

Chief was sleeping and he had the phone charging in the kitchen. I checked the text messages and there was an unanswered one from the Crack Whore asking if Weed can stay at our home for just 1 night.

I texted “NO” and went to bed.

He never did show up but Saturday morning he texted and asked what time he should come over to sign the custody papers.

FUCK.

I texted back and told him that he could come over anytime but I was low on gas and wasn’t going to pick him up. He said he’d walk over. I found out later that he had stayed over a “friend” of his’ house and so the walk was probably about 4 miles. In 98 degree heat.

Serves him right.

He asked about the baby.. was impressed with the nursery.. and the bottom line was he got lectured and talked to and lectured and talked to and lectured and talked to the whole time he was sitting on my couch.

He said all the things junkies say when confronted with their junkie-ness… how he was going to stop.. get a job.. get a place.. blah blah blah blah fucking blah. But, you know, the proof is in the pudding. And when he said that he didn’t have anything because all his clothes had been tossed by the guy he used to live with I told him that it was better to have lost nothing at 23 then to lose everything at 30.

Luckily, the guy who had given him a job before he got arrested offered to take him on again and I so I told him that he had more going for him that most people who got out of jail.

Fast forward and Chief took him to go see the baby. I couldn’t go because I was sick but I thought it was something that I didn’t need to be a part of.

A few hours passed and Chief came home.. he had dropped Weed off back in the old neighborhood where all his junkie friends spend their nights crawling under park benches getting wasted. Nice.

When asked, Chief said that Weed cried when he saw the baby and got embarrassed when the nurse said, “.. oh! you’re out of jail!”. Chief told him that everyone knew what the deal was it was what it was. I asked him if he was optimistic or pessimistic after the visit. Like OH! I have a SON! I NEED TO GET MY SHIT TOGETHER! or oh i have a son i need to get my shit together.

Chief said he was optimistic so I was like, ok.. good first step.

Sunday he walked over again early in the morning.

Sundays are usually family dinner day with my father in law.. brother in law and his wife. This Sunday Bubba showed up.

I kept my eye on Weed and Bubba because I know that Bubba is following into the drugs and alcohol foot steps of his older brother. I didn’t think he was stupid enough to bring anything to the house but I figured if they were together whispering in a corner it wouldn’t be a good thing.

Chief wind up taking Bubba along to the hospital with him and Weed. Again, I stayed home.

Chief and I drove them both back to where they wanted to go and again, I wasn’t excited about the fact that Weed wanted to get dropped off in a parking lot outside the old town we used to live in. But still.. I’m trying to be positive.

Monday comes and Weed doesn’t come over to the house. He had called earlier and told his father that he had gone to see his parole officer and then was going to the drug place to sign up for his court mandated outpatient rehab. He said he wasn’t going to come over because he didn’t feel like walking.

Nice. And your…… son?

Okay.. so maybe because he had to walk to probation (maybe) and then had to walk to rehab (maybe) he was too tired to walk to the house.

Maybe.

Personally, I would walk 100 miles if my kid was in a hospital but you know.. I’m not a junkie.

So now it’s Tuesday.

Spaz turned 14 and both his brother’s said that they would be over to help him celebrate. I wasn’t thrilled about it but it was Spaz’s birthday not mine so I was going to suck it up.

I got home from work at at 630pm and when I walked into the house, Chief was in the kitchen.. Spaz was on the couch playing a video game. And that was it. No one else.

Spaz asked if we could go to a Chinese Buffet for dinner and since Chief had to pick up a motor for the pool filter near the buffet, we decided to go. I was waiting for a moment when I could talk to Chief and that came while we were waiting in line to be seated and Spaz went off to the koi pond.

I asked Chief if he had heard from his sons. He said Bubba called Spaz earlier to wish him Happy Birthday and that Chief called and made up some excuse about not coming over. First he said he had to go to his probation officer… to which Chief said that Weed said he had gone yesterday. And then… and then came the “um.. um.. um”‘s and that he meant the rehab place. To which Chief said that Weed said he went there yesterday too.

Weed didn’t have another excuse and Chief got pissed and hung up on him.

I got just as pissed hearing this. Not that I thought anything would change.. but I thought things would change. And now it’s painfully obvious that it hasn’t because what else would he being doing hanging around his old friends in the old town?

And just in case you think I’m exaggerating .. not that I think you are.. about how much of junkie this kid is here is a picture of father and son.

Does it make you want to throw up, too?

Mind you, the baby is tiny… just barely 6 lbs and he looks huge being held by a bag of skin and bones, doesn’t he?

So now, my cautiously optimistic attitude had turned into full blow CAUTION!

Thankfully, that court papers are filled out and will be filed on Thursday morning asking the court for full custody of the baby because both his parents are junkies with no permanent home, no jobs and no way to support either themselves or a baby.

Fingers crossed that this goes through without a hitch because I have a college fund I need to start saving for.