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.

Wisdom

One of my father’s favorite sayings was:

HOW MANY TIMES DOES A DOG HAVE TO BITE YOU BEFORE YOU STOP TRYING TO PET IT

I learn lessons the hard way.

I haven’t been posting because there’s been a lot of turmoil.. and drama.. and W! T! F!s .. and it was bad enough living it let alone blogging about it. I had to come to terms with a few things.. whether I would accept them.. or distance myself from them or have-n0-clue-which-turn-to-take because of them.

Make no mistake.. I am a fighter. But I also know not to waste strength on a losing battle. I don’t see it so much as giving up.. rather, putting my best efforts to where they are 1) wanted and 2) most beneficial to me.

I’ve wasted too much time.. too much effort.. suffered through too much heart ache to continue being miserable.

I’m generally NOT  a miserable person.. I generally make the best of thing and GENERALLY let crap go where it belongs but enough is enough.

I have some heavy decisions to make about my future.. I have decided on the important things, it’s just the logistics I have to figure out.

To those who have been following, I’m going to use this post to put the puzzle pieces together for you and fill you in on what’s been going on but I don’t think I’m going to continue doing that. For those that know my email address and want to be kept updated on the saga, feel free to write me..

So..

You all know that I put the computer on lock-down because Bubba refused to do what he was suppose to do regarding the whole cyber-school thing.

Aside from the reports that the cyber school generates.. I’ve been keeping my own log on Excel. God bless the day I fell in love with Excel!

I know exactly how much time Bubba has spent on school work .. which assignments are over due.. the length of time he’s spend on each assignment down to the second .. everything. At a glance. He might THINK he’s smart because he can get over on his parent’s, but with me? No. I just have my hands tied as to what to do about it.

Anyway..

So last Friday, I had to drive Chief up to his job to fill out some paper work or something. We left at around noon. Bubba was still sleeping because even though the computer shuts off at 11pm, he was still staying up to the early morning hours watching tv and playing video games.

We get a text message from him around 1:30pm asking for the password to the computer. I was driving and couldn’t text him back so I told Chief to tell him that he needs to do his school work first.

Now, the day before I told him that he didn’t have to do his mandatory four hours if he completed all the master tests that needed to be done. He jumped at the chance because THIS IDIOT didn’t know how many tests he actually had to complete.. and to complete them all would take WAY more then four hours.

So about 2 or 2.5 hours go by and he texts again for the password. Chief was going to give it to him but I was like Uh-Uh. No.. ask him how many tests he completed first. The response came back that he did 3.. which, you know, if I BELIEVED him would have sounded about right. I half expected him to say all of them.

I still told Chief not to give him the password.. that he needed to wait until we got home to verify his work. Chief texted him back and when Bubba didn’t text back, I thought that was weird. No begging? No pleading? Nope. Because the fucking idiot GAVE him the password.. not only did he give him the password, he also have him the ADMINISTRATOR’s password.

Honestly, if we didn’t have our seat belts on and I wasn’t on the highway, I would have beat Chief silly with a tire iron.

We finally got home a few hours later and Bubba was gone.

Of course he was. He knew what was coming.

I checked the cyber school logs and not only did he NOT do the tests.. he didn’t do ANYTHING.

Shoving the laptop screen into Chief’s face, I asked him how it felt to be lied to.. how did it feel to have a 16 year old sucker you.. repeatedly? Just how DID it feel knowing that your 16 year old son thought you were a pussy and treated you like his bitch?

I’ll tell you .. he didn’t like it at all when it was said out loud.

He went on ranting and raving about what he was going to do.. (right) What he was going to say to him (don’t hold your breath).. And how things were going to be (suuuure they are) ..

I told him that he was all big and bad venting to me but as soon as Bubba walked in the door, he was going to be a cream puff.

I actually didn’t think Bubba was going to come home that night… but he did.. well after Chief was asleep and he knew better then to try and get on the computer because HE knows ME .. and he knows that I was going to do everything short of sinking the damn think in concrete and since I was the only one up, he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask me for a goddamn password.

So Saturday morning comes.. rather, it was Saturday afternoon before Bubba rolled his lump of flesh out of bed. And as expected, Chief did say something to him about being lied to.. but, as expected, followed it by asking if he wanted him to make him something for breakfast.

That’s his MO .. act like a parent then feel guilty afterwards.

Bubba complained that it was Saturday.. Chief said that he didn’t care.. Bubba said that HE did.. (I would have popped that son of a bitch in the  mouth right then.. but that’s me) .. Chief pulled out the list of all the tests he had to complete.. Bubba complained that there was 8 hours worth of work.. Chief said to only do 4 hours.

Both of them needed to be popped in the mouth then, by my estimates.

I was in the bedroom working on a project. Chief comes in and starts watching a movie. I tell him that he needs to be out there staring over Bubba’s shoulder. Chief is confident that Bubba will do the work.

SSSS.  UUUU.  CCCC.  KKK. EEE.  RRR

Not a half hour goes by and I smell the nasty ass cologne that the Crack Whore gave Bubba for Christmas. I thought I heard the front door but the dogs hadn’t stirred so I wasn’t sure.  I get up to look and sure enough, Bubba high tailed it out of the house. Mind you, this is a BIG kid.. we have hard wood floor  that vibrate whenever he moves around so I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did his best to sneak out. May have even used the back door because it’s furthest from where we were and would explain why the dogs didn’t bark when the front door was opened.

I went back in the bedroom and casually asked Chief if he knew Bubba had skipped.

“I do now.” he answered, and then went back to watching his movie.

Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously. Are you FUCKING kidding me?

He got all cocky with me and said, “.. what am I suppose to do? Call the cops?”

No.. you simple assed idot.. YOU CALL HIS CELL PHONE AND TELL HIM TO GET HIS ASS HOME RIGHT NOW

Nope. I was told he wouldn’t answer his cell phone anyway and why get more aggravated?

Well.. simple ass.. because YOU aren’t even aggravated! I AM! You see what’s wrong with this picture?

Bubba didn’t come home Saturday night. He texted my cell at 11pm and said “.. sleeping out”.

My response?

You can run away from your responsibilities but that doesn’t make them go away. Leaving only made things worse.

No return text.

Sunday night he texted again saying that he was sleeping out. The school’s had off on Monday so I didn’t count on him coming home Sunday.

He did come home on Monday. At 10:30pm.

Chief was already asleep and I had absolutely NOTHING to say to him. I thought about it long and hard over that weekend and realized that this isn’t anything CLOSE to being a family. I know other step parents are able to discipline their spouses’ kids.. step up to the plate and be a parent.. but those have supportive spouses. I don’t.. and if Bubba’s father isn’t going to be a father.. then I refuse to be the one who lays down the hammer all the time.. when I did, I only had it thrown back in my face.

But there’s more.. because there’s always more.

Tuesday rolls around and it’s another late afternoon rise for Bubba. I had gone out for most of the afternoon and while I wasn’t planning on returning to far into the night, circumstances dictated that I returned to the house around 4 or 5. I passed Bubba on the computer to get to my bedroom and while I was getting changed, he knocked on the door and told his father that the Crack Whore was picking him up so that she can help him study for his driver’s test.

Chief responded, “.. if THAT’s what your going to do”

Bubba says it is and leaves.

He hasn’t been back to the house since.

Around 11:00 that night, I said to Chief, “.. guess Bubba isn’t coming home” and he got all defensive saying, “.. he’s at HIS MOTHER’S.” .. like that’s any better then staying at his friend’s? Because she has a computer and you know he’s going to be up all night being the Top Cop of Pretend Town .. exactly what he wasn’t allowed to do here.

Wednesday morning I went out and when I returned home, the Crack Whore had sent a text saying that she had had a long talk with Bubba and that he wasn’t going to go out driving unless he does his work and to have his social security card and birth certificate for when he goes for his permit.

Chief then tells me that he sent her a message via Yahoo and told her about Bubba and his school. Whatever.  I’m the one who knows where they’re at and guess what? You’re going to see just how spiteful a bitch I can be. Because like I said before, bigger and better have tried to roll me.. I’m not about to let a 16 year old do it.

Thursday comes and goes with Bubba doing about an hour’s worth of work.

Friday comes and goes with Bubba doing no work at all.

Saturday .. Sunday.. nothing.

Today? 8 minutes.

The Crack Whore sends a text message. I didn’t look at it, just handed the phone to Chief and told him the message was for him. She must have asked him to call her because he dialed and asked “what’s up” when she answered.

She said that Bubba wanted to go back to regular school .. that he’s been asking to go back to regular school and Chief won’t send him (lie) .. Chief told her that he did inquire but that if he went back, he was going to fail the year because he’s too far behind .. he told her that he wasn’t trying to be a dick towards him… he’s just worried about his future (when exactly did we move to dilusion-ville?) .. he told her she had to be a bitch to him about his work because the only reason why he’s there is because he can’t do what he wants to do here.

She said fine and that she was going to swing by after she went where she had to go and pick up some of Bubba’s clothes.

This was at 8pm? It’s now 4am and the clothes are still on the dining room table because she never showed.

Considering the vast amount of chemicals she ingests, do you really think she’s going to get Bubba to do his work? Do you really believe that Bubba doesn’t know that she goes into a drug induced coma leaving him free to do what he wants to do?

Are you asking the same questions I am?

Don’t bother.. you’re wasting your time and I am the expert in wasting time asking logical questions of the illogical. The answer is that she will do whatever she can do to disrupt anything in the kid’s life. I’m also expecting custody papers in the mail because you KNOW she’s not going to have him living with her and NOT try to get some monetary gain .. especially since Chief is working now. The last time Bubba stayed there, she filed for custody the next day.. so you know, I’m not going to be surprised when they arrive.

As far as Chief goes? I really don’t know why he wanted custody to begin with ..

Me? Well, I finally stopped trying to pet the dog.

Even thought I know he doesn’t realize it, our relationship has changed. I don’t have the hopes.. the dreams of the future.. the silly giddiness I used to have when being around him. Anymore I just feel regret and contempt. I don’t look at him the say way .. I’ve lost respect for him as a man and a father..

It’s time for me to go..

 

THIS Is Why Things Are The Way They Are..

The other night when Chief and I were walking the dogs, I happened to look up at Weed’s window on the second floor and saw some kind of sheet or curtain half hanging off .. it’s one of those two windows right next to the other kind of deals so whatever was hanging was hanging half of the left one  like it was just stuck on a nail.

If there’s ONE thing I CANNOT tolerate it’s Ghetto Window Treatments.

I mean, I’ve actually moved one time when the neighbor across the street was tying their curtains in a know instead of investing $1.50 in a freakin’ bracket set.

So when I saw that, I pointed at it and said to Chief, “.. WHAT the HELL is THAT!!” .. and not in a questioning kind of way .. if you know what I mean.

Chief understand far to well my obsession with Ghetto Window Treatments so he called up to Weed and told him to take it down. Weed does and I tell him that I have curtains for him to hang up there.

Mind you, this room was empty prior to Weed moving back in here and I had taken the curtains down to wash and iron when I had cleaned the room many many months before.

At any rate ..

We go into the house.. I get the curtains.. and I tell Chief that he’s coming upstairs with me. He’s reluctant .. and I know why. He know I  know why but if I had to carry him up there myself, I would have.

The room is a disaster .. and not just by MY standards .. clean clothes all over the place .. dirty clothes all over the place.. soda bottles.. dishes.. food wrappers.. cutlery .. glasses.. cups ..

Oh HELL TO THE NO!

I told Weed that THIS wasn’t going to be ROOM NUMBER THREE that he trashes in this house .. and the only reason why he was even here in the first place is because we THOUGHT we were moving and now that we’re NOT.. he’s always going to be thisclose to being thrown out on his simple, non-working ass.

Chief tells him to get a trash bag.. I tell him that there’s an empty closet with a universe full of hangers and two.. COUNT THEM.. two empty dressers for his clothes.

Get to it.. and get to it NOW.

I hang the curtains while he’s picking up the shit and then I go downstairs to do what I had planned to do .. dye my hair and take a shower.

When I was finished, I went into the bedroom and asked Chief if Weed had finished cleaning his room. He said he had. Taken out his trash? Yep. Brought down his dirty clothes? Yep.

Why.. oh.. why did I believe this man?

The following day, a Saturday, I take the dogs out for their morning walk and one of the trash cans had fallen over in front of the back steps.

An empty trash can.

Hmmmm…

I check the second trash can.

Empty.

Double Hmmmm…

Trash pick up was Friday morning .. Weed was suppose to have cleaned his room Friday night .. so.. um.. where exactly was his trash bag?

So after Chief gets up that morning, I ask him again. “Weed cleaned his room, right?” .. Uh-huh. “So.. um.. where did he put his trash?”.. Outside in the can? “Hmm.. because the trash cans are empty” .. Well, the trash came. “Yea.. right.. that whole thing with Weed? That was Friday night.. not Thursday night.”

He started to wimper .. I donnnn’t knnnowww… I saw him take a trash bag down ..

So at this point, I know he’s lying and I decide to wait until I can go upstairs while Weed and Chief are occupied.

Because I know what I’m going to find.

That came yesterday afternoon .. Chief had to drive Weed somewhere and while I was gone I went upstairs and sure enough all the clothes are piled where they were piled and the trash bag, half full, is sitting in the middle of the floor.

When Chief came home, without Weed, I told him about the room.

His response?

I told Weed to clean his room because you were going to go up there!! I told him that if he didn’t I was going to here it and I know all about how things trickle down!!

He was like.. what? Almost giddy that he was right? Like, he had gotten the right answer on Double Jeopardy after wagering his whole pot?

And I looked at him like he was the simple assed inept mother fucker that he is.

Because it shouldn’t have Leese is going to check.. or Leese wants you to do it.. or you better do it before Leese starts on ME about it ..

It should have been CLEAN YOUR FUCKING ROOM RIGHT NOW

I couldn’t even say anything to him.. I had to walk away and go OUT of my way not to be in the same room with him because there’s no telling what was going to come out of my mouth.

I had to mull things over .. had to digest the situation more then I’ve been.. and the bottom line is that it’s not 2 against 3 in this house.. it’s 1 against 4.

In this house.. and to everyone beside me that lives in this house, I am a joke.

And Weed’s room is still not clean …

 

I’mmmm Baaaaackkkk…

So!

Remember about a week or so ago there was a confrontation at dinner regarding Bubba and his online school work?

Ok… there’s ALWAYS issues.

Touche’

At any rate .. the deal is that Spaz gets on the computer at 7pm and stays on until he’s ready to get off sometime before his bedtime at 10pm.

He can stay on five minutes.. he can stay on  until 9:59pm .. his choice. Spaz is out of the house most of the day because of school and since Bubba spends every waking moment in front of the monitor, I think that’s fair. Actually, no… it isn’t fair.. Spaz should be able to go on whenever he wants to after school because at least HE’S DOING HIS SCHOOL WORK!

Neither here nor there …

So anyway .. Wednesday night we eat dinner relatively early. We try to time it so that we’re finished by 7 and there’s no opportunity for Bubba hog the ‘puter and eat at Spaz’s time. But Wednesday we got done early and me and Chief were in the bedroom trying to fix the blinds that one of the cat’s had messed up when Spaz comes into our door way and asks his father to tell Bubba to let him on the computer.

It was 7:10pm.

Chief tells Bubba to get his ass off the computer and Bubba starts whining that he’s “… doing something”.

Chief yells that he’s “.. always ‘doing something'” and if he didn’t get off RIGHT. NOW, Chief was going to pull the plug on the computer.

Bubba did get off but not without calling Spaz a fag*ot bitch.. Chief threw down the screwdriver and went out to the living room with a few choice words for Bubba.

Me? I had had enough of this every single night so in the wee early morning, I got on the desktop and removed the passwords that Bubba and Spaz had on their accounts. I never wanted them to have their own accounts but they did and while Spaz’s password was more of a copy cat move, Bubba’s password was designed to keep everybody out of his account. He had even made himself an administrator.

Yea.. that went out the window too.

I also set time a time limit on each account so whoever was on it, the computer would shut down at 11pm. And there was nothing that Bubba could do without MY password.

So Thursday comes around and when Bubba wakes up, Chief tells him about the computer. He didn’t get ornery * surprise surprise * but he wanted to make sure that he had free reign to stay up as long as he wanted on Friday and Saturday night.

Now Friday comes.

Around 5pm, I check his online schooling log and it only showed him doing about an hour’s worth of work. I show Chief.. Chief tells Bubba and Bubba says he’ll do more.

A little while later, he asks Chief for the password of the admin account so he can do whatever. Chief asks me and before I give it up, I check his online school log again .. 27 minutes.

Chief’s not happy and let’s Bubba know it.

I wind up falling asleep and a few hours later, Chief wakes me up asking for the password on Bubba’s request again.

I gave it up because 1)I wasn’t thinking right and 2) I was still asleep enough to not feel like going online and checking his log.

But that’s ok because things happen for a reason and I’m pleasantly surprised with how this all turned out.

I wind up waking up around 3:30am .. Bubba is still up. In fact, he didn’t go to sleep until around 4:30am … but when I checked the log, it only showed him doing EIGHT MINUTES of work before he asked Chief for the password when I was sleeping.

You done did it now, Bubba!

I patiently waited until Chief woke up.. and was fully awake before I busted Bubba. And you know, I told him that as much as he makes fun of me for watching Judge Judy, he needs to watch her more because he believes everything that Bubba says even though he’s a known liar and manipulator and he never questions it.. never drills down to the truth like I do.

So I told him that I was locking down the computer until Monday and then the only thing Bubba will be able to do on Monday was his school work. EVERYTHING was going to blocked. And that’s exactly what I did..

I also put a nice little note on the computer that said:

Don’t even ask about the computer.. it’s locked down. Last night you were to do more school work and you only did 8 minutes. So since you continue to play this way and not do what you’re suppose to do, the computer is off until Monday.

I put it there because since Bubba didn’t go to sleep until 4:30, I didn’t know when he was going to wake up and me and Chief had errands to run, etc.

We happen to be in our bedroom watching a movie when he rolled out of bed. Chief jumped up and went into the dining room where the computer is at and confronted Bubba.. finishing with the fact that all he does is play a game pretending to be a cop instead of putting his nose into school work and trying to become one.

I had to laugh at that. Bubba isn’t going to be a cop like he’s not going to go into the Marines. He was only saying that because it sounded good and kept people off his back.

Bubba says that he’s going out because he can’t be on the computer so Chief picks up the phone and calls the Crack Whore to tell her that if Bubba show’s up there, he’s not allowed on the computer and why. I heard him say, “.. he’s playing you” so I’m sure Bubba had already called her and started playing his “poor me” violin.

But when Chief hangs up the phone, he tells me that SHE got a letter from the school the other day saying that Bubba had gotten an F in one of his classes and she called and told Bubba about it.

Now.. MY first response was “… why didn’t she tell YOU about it when she got it?” which,  you know, is a redundant question but needed to plant it in his head that there are things being mailed from the school going to her address that he’s not aware of.

He wasn’t dealing with that.

But Bubba is still sitting in the living room and Chief goes out to to blast him again about the F.

There’s a knock at the door and Bubba leaves with his friends.

Chief comes back in the bedroom and starts bitching and complaining about Bubba and the what not and when he was finished I said simply, “… it’s your fault” and went on to explain that Bubba knows that he doesn’t follow through with anything and all he has to do is wait it out until he becomes complacent again and Bubba gets to do what he wants.

When he said that he has a confrontation every week about Bubba and school, I told him that it shouldn’t have continued after the FIRST week.. because what was done with the computer should have been done back then instead of always giving Bubba the benefit of the doubt. Case in point, the 8 minutes. He just took him at his word that he did more work instead of checking up on it.. I also told him that it’s tough being hard on him but the ends justify the means and if he wanted a son that he could be proud of, then he was going to have to be a father to be proud of.

Mind you, I really could give a rat’s ass about Bubba and his school work and whatnot. I’m not proud that it’s gotten to this point but really, when I said I was done I meant it. Now, I’m just the mosquito buzzing around in the middle of the night making his life miserable.

If he comes out better for it .. thumbs up.

If he doesn’t.. well, he really isn’t going to amount to anything the way he’s going now so it’s not like he’s going to be disappointing me any.

And besides, it doesn’t phase me one bit whether he calls me a bitch or not.

I’ve been called worse by better.