2013: The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

It’s kinda messed up when WordPress sends you an email calling you a loser for hardly posting ANY.THING in 2013.

Like, really, WordPress? REALLY?

At any rate.. in keeping with the tradition, we’re going to trip the light fandango and re-hash 2013 “Leese-Style”.

OMG! But let me just say that maybe.. JUST maybe WordPress.. I’d post more if the damn site didn’t change every bloody time I logged on! Jeez.. I mean.. I’m getting too freakin’ old and too freakin’ busy to have to relearn everything.

Rant ended

Okay.. so anyway, here we go!

The Good
T3 is now 18 months of boy-monkey stuck on extreme. Climbing everything and racing around the house bouncing off of walls like pinball. No seriously. He’s made “bouncing off walls” an art form with the bruises to prove it. His pediatrician tells me this is all normal.. that little boys are made of rubber and the only way they smarten up is to bang every part of their body on every hard surface available.

Yeah.. ok.. but you can’t blame me for sticking one of those Michael-Jackson-Kid-Disguises on him when we’re in public. Why waste CYS’ time with an investigation, right?

NOTE: That was a joke, people.

Anyway…

So he’s talking up a storm in his own made-up language :: I have to make time to take the Rosetta Stone course :: but does say “Hi”; “MomMom”; “Baba”; “Juice”; “Teddy”; “FuckYouBitch”.

Okay.. so maybe the last one he says in his made-up language but believe me, the body language is QUITE clear!!

Given his beginnings, he is a very healthy, normal, well-adjusted kid who gives BIG HUGS and kisses unless he doesn’t want to and then he just squirms out of your arms saying “NO MOMMOM!”

I do believe him scarring me will be far worse then any scars he’ll have from me!

18 Months Ago

Today (well about a week ago)

As for me, I’m loving my job as a Revenue Cycle Manager for a company that has 10 medical practices nationally. Not sure how much ranting, bitching and complaining I’ve done since last year but the thumbnail is that the company I started working for in May 2011 was sold in December 2011 to a bunch of Southern gentleman who had issues with Yankee woman.

I’ll be kind and just leave it at that.

At any rate, these lovely :: vomit in my mouth :: Southern gentleman made the decision in February 2012 to close my office effective September 2012.

“Oh Shit!” you might say on my behalf but the one thing these Southern gentleman would not give us Yankee woman credit for is “moxy”.

Ok.. ok.. BALLS.

Just to make this a little easier to understand.. I work in the area of healthcare that provides a specialty service. When I worked for Company 1, there were very few people doing what we did and if they did.. they were no where NEAR as successful because Company 1 was owned by the “founding father” of the service. But in all things healthcare, it’s the biggest fish in the pond that has all the bars of gold. It’s difficult to have a privately held practice anymore and so Company 1 had the “For Sale” stuck to it and offers from Company 2 and Company 3.

Company 2 was a bunch of Southern Gents that thought that God held them as high as He did Jesus. Company 3 were newer to the industry and didn’t have as much money to hook the sale.

So I became a number in Company 2’s files.

But they didn’t like to play nice in the sandbox and more importantly, the didn’t know what they didn’t know so processes that proved very lucrative were abolished and our lives quickly spiraled down to Dante’s 6th level of hell.

And when I tell you we were miserable.. we were M.I.S.E.R.A.B.L.E.

So my boss.. the least liked of the Yankee woman.. went to Company 3 and said, “.. listen, if you want to be the biggest, baddest mother fuckers in the industry, take Company 2 down and make a whole bunch of money while doing it then I have a whole office of people that can start on Monday“.

And that’s basically what happened. We all gave our notices.. left on Friday and started working for Company 3 on Monday and it’s been awesome. Chaotic, yes. Plenty of WTF moments but the staff that came with us and the staff that we hired fit like puzzle pieces and we’ve been achieving great things.

Plus my boss is The. Best. CEO. Ever!

He’ll never ever ever ever read that but I know how blessed I am to not only be working but doing what I love and loving who I do it for.

For those of you who remember Consuela, I’m sad to say that she’s gone to the great RV park in the sky and was replaced with Estelle.

Okay.. so we raped Consuela for all her parts and appliances and rebuilt Estelle from the ground up but it was a necessity. Consuela was HUGE and was a pain in the ass to haul around. Plus, I was spending 75.00 bucks a pop to store her. Estelle fits nicely in our driveway.

As far as the kids go, I guess it would fit into the “good” category since adding “indifferent” to the title would just seem like a bitchy thing to do.

Spaz is 15 now.. doing better in school and really isn’t so much of a “spaz” anymore. I would change his name but after what? 7 years of calling him “Spaz” it would just be too confusing to change it. Most of his time is spent in his room on the computer. I don’t look in there. I’m afraid.

Bubba graduated high school this past June. A feat that was either going to have the angels singing or the four horseman clopping down the highway. He was suppose to enlist but didn’t. He was suppose to get a job but didn’t. He was still living with is friend’s family up until last week when he suddenly wanted to move in with Chief’s brother Sarge. Don’t know why. Don’t really care.

Weed is supposedly doing well (that indifferent thing again). From what I am made to understand :: let’s not get into that now :: he is living in a sober house, is working, has a girlfriend with a 6 year old daughter :: let’s NOT get into that now :: and less then hardly ever sees T3 let and never calls to ask how he is.

Bubba and Weed not being around definitely puts my life in the GOOD category!!

The Bad

I can honestly say that there hasn’t been any “bad” this past year.

Yes, things were hard. Money was tight. I’ve grieved for people I love who have passed on and have been aggravated, pissed of, sad, angry, depressed, etc. etc. etc.

But I really can’t say anything was “Bad”

Or maybe I’m intentionally blacking out the memory. :: shrug ::. I’ll take it!

The Ugly

The only thing that belongs here is T3’s mother. And no, I’m not referring to her looks :: although the Ronald McDonald red hair gives sooooo much fodder :: I’m referring to her involvement in T3’s life.

Let’s be blunt.

I want her no where near him.

But, ultimately, it’s Chief’s decision because he is the one with the custody. And let’s be frank, shall we? He doesn’t have the balls to keep her away the same why he didn’t have the balls to keep the Crack Whore away from his own kids. So he’ll trump me and it pisses me off and then I get pissed at him and then he gets stupid because he doesn’t get why I’m pissed and it’s this whole merry-go-round of drama that I’d rather avoid.

Tried the ride the first time and threw up my lunch, so.. You pick and choose your fights, yknow?

Anyway, on the flip side of that, I have to say that she actually has an interest in her son.. wants to spend time with him and buys him stuff when she can.

A HELLA lot more then Weed does.

She isn’t allowed take him anywhere on her own (I so won that battle) so when she does take him, she’s either with her sister (who’s a parent and a relative good standing member of society) and/or her mother who we see regularly because she cuts our lunch meat at the deli counter in the super market we go to. Pays to be friendly to the lady cutting your lunch meat.. even if you ARE raising her grandson with not one phone call, visit or offer to help with anything. So far there was a zoo trip, park trip, orchard trip and trick-or-treating.

Her sister passes along stuff like jackets and snow suits and things that her 4 year old son had grown out of and now that she’s working, she spent tons of money that she didn’t have to on buying T3 toys and clothes and stuffed animals for Christmas.

But do I really have to explain how my stomach twists inside and out when she’s around him or takes him somewhere?

And I guess that’s the root of it. I’m raising him. I do the dirty work. I put the blood, sweat and tears into raising a well adjusted boy so he won’t grow up to be a broken man. MY life came to a screeching halt 18 months ago when I lost the ability to sleep when I wanted, buy what I wanted, go where I wanted when I wanted, remove myself from the center of the universe and put T3 in my place… and I resent the fuck out of the fact that she can breeze in when she wants, play mommy when she wants and then goes back to living her life the way she wants to.

Don’t get me wrong.. I do NOT regret my grandson. I do NOT regret raising my grandson. Coming home from work and having him race across the room yelling “MomMom” is far better then any ugly she brings into the fold.

It just sucks.

It’s close to midnight so I hope every one of you has great things in store for you in the coming year. I hope you are blessed beyond your own limitations and that you and your loved ones are safe and prosperous in 2014!

 

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!!!

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!! :)

Grrrrrr….

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.

 

… Excuse Me While I Push A Railroad Spike Through My Eye

<– 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.