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.

Nothing Changes If Nothing Changes

Who would have thought I’d remember the password!! LoL!!

I just wanted to thank everyone who allowed me my space to figure stuff out and all your kind words. Much love to those of you who busted out your Sisterhood Membership Cards and fisted pumped along with my venting!!

Anyway …

So I guess y’all deserve an update… some things changed.. some things remained the same.. some got harder.. some got easier. That’s the thing with life.. you never know!

Okay so here we go:

Bubba never did come back from the Crack Whore’s. He told her he didn’t want to live here because of the rules and she, with her Mother of The Century Tiara, didn’t see a problem with that. He did his routine of promising to do his school work and even though I continued to monitor it and sent her daily spreadsheets proving that he wasn’t, she took his side. Until the school called her and told her what I’ve BEEN telling her. She texted me and told me she was taking him back here and I told her ABSOLUTELY NOT.. this isn’t his home anymore and he wasn’t welcomed here. The locks have been changed and if for some reason he gets in, he’ll be asked to leave POLITELY at first and then by use of a little call to 911 if necessary.

Actually, no one wants him back here. One  less thing his father has to deal with … Spaz has been a lot less Spazzy .. my food bills have been almost cut in half along with the water bill, shampoo bill, electric bill and everything else. The house is actually peaceful.

He did return to regular school where I think he will be until he’s at least 25 and trying to master 9th grade. Not my problem.

She did ask for his clothes.. and I gave her everything that was clean. The majority of his clothes were dirty and still piled on his bedroom floor so I threw them out. Have no guilt about them being his “favorite” clothes. Consider that my little pay back.

I did find out that when the Crack Whore goes on her weekend get-a-ways, Bubba and his band of 16 year old misfits hold drinking parties at her apartment. Not my problem.

His bad behavior was also rewarded by her allowing him to get his driver’s permit. Her car.. her insurance. Not my  problem.

And since the child support order was nullified because each has one kid (yes, she got away with not paying the 800.00 she was in arears for) AND she recently lost her job because she was caught stealing.. I’m sure there’s going to come a time when she starts bitching for money. Not gonna happen. I control the bank account, barely giving Chief a few bucks daily for coffee or cigarettes. Not my problem.

Spaz, though, is doing well. His teacher left mid-semester and was replaced by a male teacher. This is the first time Spaz has had a man leading the classroom and he really had a positive impact on him. The teacher and I have actually formed a friendship and it’s great to know that there are still some teachers out there who insist on using a red pen!! The teasing is still going on and has gotten progressively worse. So much so that Spaz has been reverting back to his old behavior and I went to talk to the principle yesterday. I heard the “Zero Tolerance for Bullying” speech but pointed out that while that all sounds good on paper, the fact that this kid gets teased unmercifully.. had food thrown at him in the lunchroom.. has horrendous rumors started about him and these kids aren’t reprimanded in anyway because they are in Emotional Support class tells me that their zero tolerance is bullsht. Fortunately, Spaz’s teacher agreed with me.. even going as far as stating for the record that nothing he does to control them is working.

We’ll see where that goes..

Weed is still living with us but it’s turned into a non-issue. He is trying to find a job but his past keeps catching up with him. I do give him a little money for doing things around the house that I really don’t want to do .. mow the big ass lawn .. clean out the attic .. that kind of stuff. He usually negotiates a payment that is WELL below what I initially intent on giving me but that will be our little secret!

What else…

Well, Alfonz the cat.. that I originally thought was male …and then was told was fixed.. is now pregnant and about to have kittens. I’m still trying to convince myself that her bulging belly is just a tumor.

We started converting to alternate methods of energy but that’s a post all on it’s own. You wouldn’t BELIEVE it even if you were here so you’ll have to trust me on that!

For the first time in like, a hundred years, I went on a job interview last Monday which resulted in another interview this past Friday. It was all pretty damn positive so I may be gainfully employed soon. Fingers crossed for that one since it means I’ll be more financially independent and can move along with the plan.

So I think I took up about as much of your time as I should … I promise I’ll get back to regular posting. I know you missed it!! LoL .. I’ll also catch up on YOUR blogs.. because I’ve missed it!

Thanks again for all your support .. it meant the world to me.

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..