.. because you asked

… so I’ve gotten some pretty interesting questions since I started posting again.

They MAY have come from WordPress, come to think of it, to KEEP me posting. Dunno! :)

But some have come from :: who knew! :: readers who’ve been reading for a long time.

Imagine that!

Of interest was the reaction of both Weed and the GF (still can’t think of an appropriate tag for her) when I asked her about being with a deadbeat when her own son’s father wasn’t in his life.

I wasn’t looking at Weed so I don’t know what his “face” looked like but I can say :: most surprisingly :: that the GF responded that she’s been telling Weed to spend more time with T3. To which, Weed replied that it’s been tough because he really doesn’t have any money. TO WHICH I replied that phone calls are free.. and so is the park.. and so is Sunday dinners at my house.

The GF had mentioned earlier that her car was being worked on because of a minor fender bender that left the rear off-centered but she did tell Weed that they could take public transportation down to my house. No easy feat considering where they live and where I live but at least appreciated that she was more pro then con with Weed being involved in his kid’s life.

To be fair :: there was too much ” grrr ” last night to be objective :: she seems like she’s an okay person. She lives with her parents, has a degree in elementary and special education and has a real job working with kids as an educator. She comes from a fairly affluent community :: which means absolutely nothing except that she isn’t living in a crack den :: and she met Weed in a program because she had become addicted to pain meds after a serious car accident a few years ago. On the surface, it would appear that if he had to be in a relationship with anyone at least this girl appears to have her priorities in order.

What I don’t know is if she is strong enough to handle Weed’s persuasions. Charm is built into these boy’s DNA :: from their father’s side :: and they’ve only been “in a relationship” :: according to Facebook :: since November 21st.

Yes, I stalk. Report me!

But.. as with everything.. time will tell.

I’ve also been asked what ever became of Elvis, Chief’s jailbird nephew who was was brought out to PA by Chief’s douchebag brother.

Not sure where I left off on THAT story.

The thumbnail is that Elvis has been in and out of jail for half his life and through Facebook, connected with his PA family for the first time. His mother had high-tailed out of the area when he was 6 months old and never had any contact with his father’s side of the family.

His douchebag uncle paid his way out here, put him up and basically treated him like a plantation slave.. never really giving him the opportunity to venture off the property to find work to sustain on his own. Couple that with alcohol and the fact that douchebag’s wife has an Oedipus complex and hates, hates, hates anybody or anything that diverts the douchebag’s attention away from her.. shit was a powder keg waiting to explode.

And it did.. one drunken night when Douchebag said something that Elvis took the wrong way and Captain Morgan set those powder kegs on fire.

Elvis was banished from the property.. his clothes dumped in a McDonald’s parking lot.. and he was left stranded in a state where he knew know one.

Of course, he knew me.. but communication between me and him stopped when he went to live with Douchebag. All extensions of hospitality were met with “sorry, can’t” or “busy” or whatever excuse came my way.

So I wasn’t in a too charitable mood when all of a sudden he’s blowing up my phone with text messages needing help.. money.. a place to stay.. etc.

However, I’m not heartless and sometimes the best way to help someone is to make them help themselves.

I reached out to a homeless shelter that’s affiliated with the Salvation Army. I explained the situation and they gladly offered him a place to stay, food, clothing vouchers, etc. while helping him find a job.

For someone who said that they were committed to turning their life around and all they needed was the opportunity, you’d think that one would take THIS opportunity and fly with it.

He flew alright.. all the way to Oklahoma.

What happened was he started to get too involved with the people he was living with.. all kinds of people who’s circumstances made them opportunists. I had told him to keep his head down and stay out of any issue that didn’t directly concern him. He didn’t listen and was either thrown out or asked to leave :: still don’t know which :: and since he was already working for a landscaping company :: that the shelter helped him get :: he decided he was going to get his own place.

According to his story, he had to sleep on the streets a few nights but finally was able to rent a room from a guy who had once been a resident of the shelter.. made good and now wanted to give back. He would rent rooms to those who were in the transition part of their lives.

His mother put up the first week’s rent because Elvis was between paychecks but sometime after he moved in, I get the phone call asking if I can help him because he didn’t get his check and his rent was due. I told him to talk to his landlord and explain.. even have his landlord talk to his boss. Something adult and reeking of responsibility.

Never knew what happened because the next thing I know is that he’s trying to get money for bus fare to Oklahoma because he had to leave right! away!.

Putting the puzzle pieces I had to work with in place, I think what happened was Elvis wanted to live his way and the landlord had rules regarding who or what goes on in his property. Elvis started posting pictures of tattoos he was doing and I’m sure the caliper of people who would get tattooed by someone like Elvis aren’t the kind of people the landlord wanted hanging around.

Elvis also has a quick temper and I’m thinking that something went down.. the police were called and he decided his best move was to get out of the state.

Don’t really know.. and really, don’t really care. I’ve been bit by the dog too many times to keep trying to pet him.

Elvis kind of fell off the face of the earth so I really can’t give you a current update.

… well, baby’s up from his nap which means my time no longer belongs to me!!!!

 

 

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!!!

… How We Got To Here

.. 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..

It’s An Infants World

.. Just popping this post in on my Ipad so excuse the shortness!!
I promise I’ll fill you guys in shortly but the bay came home from the hospital on Thursday and since then I think I’ve gotten 2.927 hours if sleep!!!

Anyone who’s ever lived with and infant knows what I’m talking about!!

So give me a little leash to get used to my new normal and I’ll fill y’all in..

He just fell asleep so I’m going to follow his lead and hit my pillow!!

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.