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!

 

Baby Mama Drama -or- My Weekend In Dallas (No, Not Texas)

Dallas, Pennsylvania.

Who knew.

Anyway.. see that green star? That’s where the Baby Mama’s is currently residing in a half way house.

See that red dot where Philadelphia is? That’s where I live. Well, just a little further then a smidge south-west of the city.

Still.. we’re talking 100+ miles.

Pennsylvania is a big state. Not as big as Texas.. but big, none the less.

So just to give you a little ketchup .. ( ha! Ketchup = catch up!! I amaze myself sometimes with my silliness!).. Baby Mama was in jail when she gave birth on June 13th. She wasn’t released from jail until January something. I think the 4th or 7th or something. In the month prior to her release she called practically every night. I have nothing really to talk to the girl about. I don’t even KNOW the girl sober for crying out loud. But she was calling about her kid and at the time, it was a hell of alot more then Weed was doing.. and he was OUT of jail. So she would call and I would half pay attention to the 30 minute allotted phone call. And when it was time for her to be released, I took the day off from work and me and Chief drove up to the prison with the baby to pick her up.

THAT was a whole event in itself that’s for another post because.. O! M! G! .. who knew that the security guards treated the people picking up offenders like THEY were offenders themselves? Considering who is shipped to this prison, maybe they are.. but still.

Anyway..

I had kept the tree up.. had bought her Christmas gifts from the baby.. and not because I had any emotional attachment to this girl. BUT, she is the Baby Mama and (as I told her).. you only get one chance to fuck up. I’m all about second chances but don’t ever take my kindness for my weakness. Big no-no.

So she gets out and it’s awkward because I don’t know what to say to her.. she don’t know what to say to us.. we have her kid.. she doesn’t know who her son is as a little person after all these months.. etc. etc. etc. But, she knows that she can’t do anything to benefit his life and as long as she was walking the straight and narrow, we would have an open door policy for her to see him.

Now, that may sound very generous but remember, she’s a junkie and couldn’t wait to run across the open fields of heather with the breeze blowing through her buzzed hair into the arms of Weed. Weed was still using at this time.. was staying with Chief’s brother Sarge until he stole a bottle of Oxy’s from him (Sarge has a legal prescription from a back surgery gone wrong) and had been holing up with his crack-whore mother because he gave her half the bottle. Nice, right?) so I may not be the best at math but I do know what 2+2 equals.

She would come by to see the baby. Maybe twice a week.. maybe more.. maybe less.. can’t remember. But it wasn’t everyday and it wasn’t for long periods of time. And then by the second week of February, nothing. No phone calls, no emails, no text messages .. just dropped off the face of the earth.

We found out about a week and a half later that she had tested hot at her last PO visit and was sent back to jail.

NOTE: For those of you who don’t have to deal with junkie step kids and their jail records, “testing hot” means failing the mandatory drug tests that comes with probation. Just stick with me, you’ll learn the lingo quick enough. I did!

From jail she went to rehab and from rehab she was court ordered to a half way house.

We found all this out after the fact.

We had been receiving phone calls from a 570 area code but I’m not one that answers unfamiliar numbers and a voice mail was never left so I just figured my cell number was on some kind of list. It wasn’t until I got an email from her basically accusing us of changing our phone number because we didn’t want anything to do with her.

Like I said… drama.

So I emailed her back.. told her what I just told you. That’s how I found out her details and where the half way house was.

She started bugging us around May to take the baby to visit her. Bugging may not be the right word but she kept on asking. And I kept on telling her that it all hinged on my finances.

Could I have made the trip up and back in one day and a tank and a half of gas? Yes.

Could I do that with a baby who’s mobile and hates being in the car seat? Hell-freakin-NO!

So we would have to stay over.. which meant a hotel.. which meant food.. which meant a whole lot of things that isn’t in my normal budget. Anybody with any brain cells could comprehend.. but she’s a junkie, remember?

So the more I couldn’t take the baby to see her the more her warped mind went into fantasy-land. Her fantasy-land when it concerns the baby is a dangerous place to travel. Not that any court.. regardless of how much they want to (cough) keep the family intact (cough) .. would award her custody but it’s just the fact that I would have to go through the bullshit. And since she would have to hire an attorney .. I would have to hire an attorney and quite frankly, I would prefer to pay my electric bill then a lawyer.

So fine. You want to spend the afternoon with a 12 month old who wants what he wants when he wants it and all be damned if he can’t run across a room of broken glass barefooted? You want to spend it with a child who is just learning to use a spoon and therefore refused to be fed unless he can feed himself which means you’ll have more yogurt or cereal in your hair then he does? Don’t forget the flesh pinching (he thinks he’s tickling you).. hair, earring, necklace pulling..? Screeching.. pooping.. wailing… ?? You go right ahead.

Now, please don’t be mistaken. If it was solely up to me, I would have given her a not-so-polite PISS OFF. But in order to get the fantasy of having her son full time out of her head, she needed to spend sometime with him.

NOTE: I was less then thrilled with leaving him with her but Chief did a good job of explaining that he would be safe because it was a controlled environment. She isn’t allowed to be alone with him.. there were medical personal on duty at all time and other women who had raised children. I deferred. Reluctantly. Actually, kicking and screaming but (shrug).

So we decide to drive up on a Friday. Chief felt it would be better for the baby. I think he just wanted to have an extra-night’s sleep without dogs hogging the bed. We check into a Days Inn.. which was, you know, a Days Inn in Wilkes Barre, PA (where EVERYONE looks like a Walmart greeter).

Timbo loved being in a hotel room. He spent the next FOUR hours running from one end of the room to the other with his little arms up in the air making his “Deet Deet Deet” happy noises. Me? Not so excited. I didn’t want to be there. Was exhausted from not only the drive but from working a full day before we left. Did I mention I didn’t want to be there?

He finally fell out exhausted around 11:00 and since he was going to be sleeping on a bed, I laid on one side of him not getting any sleep at all because I was afraid he’d wake up in the middle of the night.. climb out of bed.. and make his way down to the truck stop and take candy from a guy with three names in a white panel van.

Hey listen.. everyone has irrational fears when it comes to their kids. Leave me alone!

So no sleep and a baby that woke up at 5am just as excited as the night before! Lovely.

Finally Baby Mama calls us right before we’re about to leave to see her and tells us that the address she gave us in the email? Yea, not the right one. That’s the address their mail goes to, but the actual place she’s staying is like 30 miles north of where we the hotel was.

30 miles. NOT a typo.

When asked for an address for the GPS, she comes up with some cockamayme address that it doesn’t recognize. Basically, she had no fucking clue and the search was on to find someone inside the half way house who DID know where the fuck they where.

Way long story short.. we finally get there and Chief was treated to the sight of skanky junkies sunbathing along the side of the road. He’s scarred for life.

But we did what we had to do.. met who we had to meet.. made sure the boy was going to be in good hands and reluctantly made our way back to the hotel to sleep for at least an hour before we had to go pick him up. Which we did and promptly took him back to the hotel to scrub the skank off of him.

We stayed another night at the hotel and left on Sunday morning. We took the back roads home because, you know, this was going to be the only “vacation” WE would have and at least wanted to SEE something other then skank junkies sunbathing to make the whole trip worthwhile. That took 4.5 hours because stupid us didn’t realize that that was POCONO DOWNS weekend and every race car enthusiast from as far away as Mars was in the area trying to get into the Pocono Raceway on a two lane road.

Anybody forget that there was a baby in a car seat that he doesn’t like being in?

By the grace of God we made it home safe and about 600.00 poorer. Like I said in another post, we live paycheck to paycheck and this is going to put a dent in our budget. Going up there meant I had to pay half on the utilities (the other half this coming paycheck).. reduce the food bill.. all that creative budgeting stuff.

And here’s the kicker. But first let me offer apologizes if my head explodes (again) while I type this…

When we went to pick up Timbo up, Baby Mama tells us that her stint in Dallas is over on July 22nd and that she’s trying to find a sober house closer to us in one of the other two counties (one of those counties currently has Weed as a resident).

Like, really?

REALLY?

So I just spent a hell of a lot of money to drive all the way up to Bum-fuck, Pennsyl-tucky and you’ll be moving within an hour from us in some direction on JULY 22ND????????

TWO WEEKS???

EXCUSE ME, MS. FEEL-SORRY-FOR-ME-BECAUSE-IM-A-JUNKIE-THAT-HAD-MY-BABY-IN-JAIL-THAT-THE-STATE-TOOK-AWAY-SO-IM-A-VICTIM.

NO.. you’re NOT a victim. You still do whatever it is you do and the only person who lost ANYTHING was me. I lost my ability to sleep when I want.. buy what I want.. go where I want.. do what I want. I’m the one paying the consequences for your mistakes.

And I unleashed all the pent up anger and frustration and everything else that was pent up because of this whole situation right on Rt 309N and next to the skanky junkie sunbathers.

Don’t get me wrong.. my grandson is the center of my universe. Everything I do, I do for him. He is the light in my life and a blessing each and every day I wake up.

I think you know where I’m coming from, though, right? Can you stop being selfish for one nano second and think of the people who are raising your kid.. and doing all with any assistance for anybody or any government agency?

Sorry.. I think I have to clean up the rest of my brains that exploded on the ceiling again!

Moving Forward.. Looking Back

I guess it would be best to bring everyone up to date on what’s been going on the past year but I’m not going to bore you with a million word post… I’ll bore you with a million little posts!!

But at least it will give you some idea on how the chess pieces moved and who’s doing what and the what-not:

CHIEF

Since bringing the baby home in July 2012, Chief’s been playing “Mr. Grand-mom”. There really wasn’t a choice. He hadn’t been seriously working since we closed our deli and the disaster that was his job at the country club. Not that I can blame him. When you’re a 4-star rated chef and promised a position (which turned out to be promised to everyone, including the potato peeler) and you were basically doing a job that pays better at McDonald’s, I’d wouldn’t have ditched them to. But everything happens for a reason and not two months after he quit, we had a baby to raise. I give him credit.. he takes care of the baby, Spaz, cleans the house, does the laundry.. and find’s time to do the “man” stuff like mow the lawn and fix the roof.

WEED

Still deciding if I want to dedicate ANY posts to him.. so weary of his shit.. but I do have to say that he is currently in a “sober house” in another county after doing yet another stint in jail and rehab. According to Chief, he’s doing good. He has a job, has to pay rent or he’s out on the street and meets with his P.O. ( that’s “parole officer” for those of you who haven’t had the fortune of having a junkie stepson!) monthly. Those monthly meetings are in our county so that’s when he stops over the house to see the baby. Mind you, I’m at work during these visits and never-rarely have the misfortune of having to actually speak or see him so the above is based solely on Chief’s perspective. Whatever.

BUBBA

Since his crack-whore mother put him out on the street when he was 16, he’s been living with the family of one of his friends. Best thing for him because he had to straighten up and fly right.. something he couldn’t do in a household that he felt was obligated to care for him and put up with his shit. He turned 18, graduated high school, works at Wendy’s and says he wants to enlist. He did go to the enlistment office but they were closed so .. who knows. He comes over on Sunday’s for dinner and I still have barely anything to do with him because with all the good he has accomplished, he still hasn’t offered anything close to an apology for the hell he put me through. For those that care, here’s a pic of him and Chief on his graduation day. Honestly, I just want to show off my husband!!

.. in case you’re confused, Bubba is the one in the cap and gown!

SPAZ

Spaz has actually turned out to be the best of the lot.. and yes, I will take full credit for that! He just finished his Freshman year of high school and has really pulled his academics around since moving to the new school district. Well, “turn around” may be wishful thinking on my part. Let’s face it, he’s not an Einstein but there wasn’t one day last year that he pretended to be sick to stay home from school. I’ll take it where I can get it! He is more upfront about his grades, doesn’t try to use bullshit excuses anymore, is taking accountability and all that. He’s also more respectful towards me and Chief and is doing little chores around the house without being asked. It helps too that his crack-whore mother is doing a stint in prison. The less she’s in his life the more calm and settled he is.

TIMBO

The baby is now 20.5 lbs .. even though my 48 year old back swears he’s 50 lbs. Is in the 45th percentile in high and currently has no residual affects from being born addicted to heroin. He’s walking.. faster every day.. his motor skills are on track (even a little advanced) and he’s just a happy, happy little boy.

ME

I changed jobs in may and am now a regional revenue cycle manager for a national company. Don’t be impressed. I ain’t all that! But I love my job and love the people I work with (actually, they were the original people I started working for 2 years ago but it’s too complicated to go into right now). Fortunately, I’m able to support my family myself. It’s still paycheck-to-paycheck but at least I’m not in the minus anymore on the Wednesday before pay!

So life is good. Life is always good, it’s just a matter of perspective and recognizing that what you went through then is what’s putting you here now. Go with the flow and manage the damage. And pray. Because if it wasn’t for prayer and faith, who knows how things would turn out.

Oh.. and the other cast of characters that routinely show up here:

The Crack Whore – like I said, she’s doing a stint in prison. Karma bitch slapped her because everything always comes back and bites you in the ass. Can’t say I don’t chuckle over her situation during the few times her name comes up.

Baby Mama – Like Weed, she’s in a half-way house upstate. FAR upstate. She got out of jail in January and went right back to doing her shit with Weed and landed back in jail in February. We took the baby up to see her last weekend. Another post for a later date. My mother, especially, was pissed that we made the trip but I’ll go more into detail when I post. If you’re a long time reader then you know that there’s a reason for everything I do!!

Elvis – Haven’t talked about Elvis before. He’s Cheif’s oldest nephew and became a semi big part of our lives fairly recently. But of course, where ever Chief’s family is concerned, drama ensues so I’ll have to go into all that at a later date

My laptop battery is dying so I’ll close for now.. but wow! aren’t you just looking forward to the details yet to come!! :)

FINALLY!! Free Time To Post!!

Knock.. Knock!!

Hello?

Anybody.. um.. out there??

Oh! Hey! How are you? Waiting long? Yea.. sorry. My days have been kinda consumed. (shrug).. I know.. I know.. no excuse but… Oh! Hey! Hold still a minute.. you have some cobwebs hanging off you.

There you go. Oh.. no problem. It’s the least I can do since you’ve been hanging around so long waiting for me.

What have I been up to?

THIS GUY!

Yep.. my 5lb 8oz drug addicted grandson is now a healthy, strong, stubborn 13 month old! It’s been a long year.. it’s been a fast year.. it’s been fun, frustrating, sleep deprived, rewarding, drama filled.. pick a word and I can guarantee that I have a story for it!

But I wouldn’t change any of it if it meant that I wouldn’t have that face smooshing mine.. or have those little arms grab onto my legs when I come home from work.

So listen.. I’m going to go grab some coffee and catch you up.

And hey.. thanks! It’s good to be back, too!