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!

 

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.

THIS Time I Have A Good Reason To Be M.I.A

I know … I know… I made a promise but my intentions, and the road to hell their paved on, are good!

I want to introduce you to the new man in my life:

This little man is Chief’s grandson, born 6/15 and weighing 5lbs. 8 oz and 17.5 inches long.

He was born 5 weeks premature… addicted to heroin… but for as bad as it could have been, he’s doing just fine.

Oh.. and did I happen to mention that both parents are currently in jail and have been since May 24th?

I started another blog dedicated specifically to him and the journey we’re on with him now. If we roll like that, shoot me an email and I’ll send you the link. I’m not going too public with it because their’s an infant and a whole lot of legal mess involved.

So just cruised by to share … !!

Here’s a few more:

Oh.. and PS my texaskid bestie, I can’t post from my iPad because the chicken pecking takes forever and I usually end up accidentally deleting the post!! Call me old school!! Love you!

 

I know… I know… I went missing again!!

… no, I didn’t die.

And my apologies to the family of Mr. Gerald Leese but come one, I couldn’t resist!

AND it’s 3:20am

Really, what the hell did y’all expect!

Anyway…

So I’m not going to give any excuses as to why I haven’t posted since January.

Blame it on work and the crazy hours of overtime I’ve been pushing… blame it on the home life.. blame it on moving… blame it on American Idol … none of that’s acceptable and for that I do apologize.

Oh.. but you CAN blame it on the iPad2. That thing is literally like crack and you’d be hard pressed to find it NOT in my hands from the minute I come home from work until the minute I fall asleep with it on my bed watching reruns of something on Hulu.

But once again I am promising to post more.. and one again you will roll your eyes and say “whateva” in your best Philly accent.

I get it.

BUT.. there are some interesting things on the horizon and who the hell else would I vent to? .. or AT.. as the case maybe!! LoL

Okay.. so let me catch you up with the Den of Dysfunction.

Briefly.

Or else this post is going to be a million words long… but really it’s because it’s almost daylight and I still have a pool to paint AND drive to another state to pick up my cell phone that I left behind in one of those go-visit-cousins-new-apartment-that’s-OMG-in-the-ghetto-so-lets-take-off-just-as-fast!

On to it:

CHIEF: Still not working… still hasn’t done a damn thing about his health insurance OR getting his driver’s license back BUT he has succumbed to being my house bitch so dinner is on the table when I get home.. laundry is done :: but not folded, so let’s say he’s a house bitch in training :: .. and he completely re-landscaped our whole property.. put in a garden.. built a front porch.. etc. etc. etc. So I have no complaints really. I don’t classify him as a bum because.. well, I already had one of those and I know the difference.

SPAZ: Must say that Spaz is less.. well.. SPAZZY. The little gnome has shot up and at last check he was as tall as me. His attitude has calmed down since he isn’t around his brothers or crack whore mother and he’s doing better in school. Not ALOT better but I’ll take what I can get. He cleans his room without being told… doesn’t get all bitchy when he has to help his father with yard work.. so he’s really made a turn around after the move.

BUBBA: Heh. Bubba. Did I tell y’all that he left our home a year ago because we were forcing him… FORCING HIM.. to go to school and that he went to live with the Crack Whore who provided no supervision, guidance, consequences, etc. so now he spends his days/nights drinking and smoking pot? Oh.. but see.. it gets SO MUCH BETTER!

You see.. they were living with this dude and because she is who she is and does what she does and lives how she lives, the dude was kinda getting pissed that she wasn’t holding up her end of the “bargain” :: insert anything you want there. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too far off the mark :: so a week before Bubba’s 17th birthday, she kicked him out over something stupid :: because she is, after all, an idiot :: and then high tails it out and moves into one of the seediest, ghettoist, crime ridden and drug riddled towns in my county… where she was promptly given a sash, tiara and corner to work.

Kidding about the last part.

They didn’t give her a tiara and sash.

But I digress…

We didn’t find any of this out until a month later when she supposedly was in the hospital with either pneumonia or breast cancer… can’t tell you which because she’s claimed both so it’s probably neither…. when she sent a text saying how rotten a father Chief was because he didn’t know she had kicked his son out  a month earlier and he was now living with a friend and it was all MY fault.

Yes, dear friends, all that happened because of me.

Whateva

So Chief goes into father mode.. contacts his son.. brings him to the house.. buys him some clothes :: because, you know, when she kicked him out and ditch the dude she was living with she left all their stuff there :: makes arrangements for him to live with Sarge which of course, the kid doesn’t want to do because then he wouldn’t be able to drink and get high.

But he is going to school now.

So he says.

Whateva.

WEED: Oh.. this is actually going to be huge in the coming months because did you know that him and his skanky girlfriend are having a baby? Yes.. my friends. A baby. Born to a father (maybe) who finally landed a job but spends his paycheck on drugs and a mother who is the same.. and yet the father (maybe) gets pissed off at the mother for doing drugs but doesn’t stop himself.

I have to say I had to do a lot of soul searching on this one … and have some pretty thick calluses on my knees from being on them all night praying for guidance.

Will you PLEASE get your mind out of the gutter!!

Thank you.

That’s going to be a post on it’s own because a lot happened.. a lot didn’t happen.. and a lot will be happening and all of it is going to land right smack dab in my lap…

So I suggest you buckle up your seat belts.. it’s going to be a bumpy ride!