Sunday, July 14, 2013

Blame, Avoidance, and Denial, Oh My

Bitches be blogging about George Zimmerman, but not me.  I'm way too self-absorbed for that.  Besides, as a white woman living in a progressive state, what new dimension could I really bring to the discussion?  Race relations in this country are as bad as they have ever been?  Possibly.  Our hearts go out to the Martin family?  Definitely.  

<polite yawn, thank you, Klonnie, next blogger, please>  

Just because I *can* blog about something, doesn't mean I should.  By the same token, just because I'm not blogging about the current issues doesn't mean I shouldn't blog at all.  So instead I offer the following, another chapter in the ever-growing tome titled:  My Book About Me.

Today's blog post is brought to you today by Anger
It's one of those days, you guys. Riding the rollercoaster. They don't call it "rapid-cycling" for nothing. Dear Lance Armstrong. I ride this cycle more rapidly than even you, and I don't take steroids, I take mood stabilizers. Whatever.

Hey, I'm fragile lately. Troubled moved back home last week and the clusterfuck, temporarily suspended, resumes.  My soon-to-be-ex, never my ally when it came to raising our kids, showed his ultimate true colors by encouraging, financing and facilitating my daughter's relationship with her loser, drug-dealing boyfriend, throwing me under the bus and destroying our family in the process. Now she wants to come back home and once again, Mr. Fucking Useless Passive Adolescent Addict So-Called Parent refuses to set any kind of limits, citing his reasons to be that 1. I fucked her up with my anger issues and 2. I don't have a say because I left.


I tried to get Mr. K. to lay some ground rules for her being there -- for example, she has to be in school, there can't be any drugs in the house, and Juvie can't be here.  Ever.   At all.   She was hostile, sullen, resentful, and mocking when we sat her down to lay this out for her.  Of course Mr. Fucking Useless Passive Adolescent Addict So-Called Parent was apologetic and conciliatory.  Five bucks says Juvie will be back in the house within ten days.

<frownie-face emoticon>

And guess who's going to be gone for two of the next three weeks on business, but "whatever you decide to do, you have my complete support"?  Mr. Fucking Useless Passive Adolescent Addict So-Called Parent, who has never done one thing to support me in running this family except stand aside and mock me and judge me. 

<whereupon Klonnie bursts into yet another round of ridiculous and useless tears and runs away>

This dynamic permeates all of our family relationships.  Mr. K. wrings his hands over The Gamer -- "He plays video games all day.  I'm so worried about him.  I offered him some alternatives. I tried to make him stop but he won't."  Of course he won't, he knows you are Mr. Fucking Useless Passive Adolescent Addict So-Called Parent.   Step aside, let me show you how it's done.  I go in to The Gamer's room and start dealing out instructions and consequences and not backing down and of course everyone is horrified. I am a mean bitch.  Really?  Really?  That's fine with me because (stop the presses) mean bitches GET SHIT DONE. 

From making sure *his car* gets smogged because the registration is due next week, while he leaves important papers for me to find days after action was required,  to flicking the switch in the circuit breaker that turns off video games in The Gamer's bedroom, while he looks for the charger to his iPad, I GET SHIT DONE.  From holding the line on spending so that PreMed's tuition gets paid, while he plans a trip to Portugal, to calling Social Services and counselors and everywhere else I can think of to deal with the trainwreck that our household has become, while he has "just a quick nap," I GET SHIT DONE.  

From kicking ass to taking names,  I GET SHIT DONE.  

While Mr. Fucking Useless Passive Adolescent Addict So-Called Parent sits in sullen silence, like the teenage children I am trying to raise.  Watching, judging, and blaming.

But I'm sugar-coating it.  Some day I'll tell you how I really feel.  



  1. Sounds like you moved back home. True? Separate rooms? Or only staying there so he can leave the country?
    Namaste to you to hun.

    1. You are a saint among sinners... Its funny how those of us who are a little "touched" seem to have it more together than those who are less than special. It can either get worse or get better... Either way you're probably just as screwed, so make it as interesting a ride as possible. Who needs TV when your blog is more interesting.

  2. Perhaps releasing those 'ridiculous and useless tears' are what paves the way for you to get shit done.

  3. I love you. Hand to fucking tiger.

  4. I heart you. Bitches get shit done. Get shit done while he's away. An awful lot of nutjobs have your back.

  5. mixed emotions here. you left and still want a hand in the every day stuff...this is tough to manage. i understand you haven't relinquished your "right to parent", BUT you did remove yourself from day-to-day parenting - if only physically. this sends a message to your children and the soon to be ex. if you want to be a part of it, you have to be a part of it - not pick and choose when you can handle it and run when you can't. all you can control is you. and your kids when they are under your roof. i don't believe it's right to leave him with the kids and then complain when he continues being the (non) parent he has always been. you have no excuse to not have seen this coming. i have followed your situation and i know most people support you in your situation and decision making, as i usually do. this time, i cannot...your kids need a schedule for when they are with you and when they are with him. if he is out of the country, then they are with you and they follow your rules. i generally see where you are coming from - but this time, i hear you doing some blaming and denying as well. the avoidance part...not so much - you are, after all, GETTING THINGS DONE! :)

    keep on keepin on, just remember that your kids didn't ask for this situation - well, not really - you still have to be the parent even when you want to curl up into a ball and disappear.

    Namaste <3

    1. So many things to respond to here -- first of all, I don't have a roof. I have a room where I stay because I couldn't handle my husband's bullshit. Not my kids. I am the house with the kids every day after work till about nine. I have not relinquished anything but the misery of being disrespected and undervalued by my husband. He didn't want my input as to the decisions we were supposed to be making jointly, so I left him to clean up the mess. At the same time, he wrings his hands over the situations that HE CREATED when he chose his parenting style and blames me when I step in to right the ship.

      Meantime, my son knows that I have not abandoned him. He knows that his dad and I do not speak with one voice. This has been clear in our family dynamic for decades. And this is the difficulty. The week that I lived at home while my husband was traveling was possibly the best of the summer so far for my son. Really very little had changed except for my sleeping in the master bedroom instead of going home at bedtime. But each day my son had done chores, gotten outside, gotten exercise, prepared dinner, and at the end of the day had face time with me and his sister over a board game.

      If I sound defensive it's because I feel defensive. I totally blame my husband for the current implosion of our family and I have never made that a secret. And I have been the parent, the grown-up, the responsible one -- every minute of every single day of my entire fucking life. Even when I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. Even then.

      Namaste to you as well.

  6. i hear everything you are saying - i really do. is there no way to boot his ass and get on with your family, in your home...minus him?

  7. Obvious you are a good mommy....keep on getting shite done and take care of you too.....much aloha

  8. Hearing and listening are 2 very different things. Much of which those in our lives make the *choice* not to seperate, leaving us the bad guy cuz its easy when youre already labeled.

  9. I completely relate to this post, honey. Completely. Misery loves your company. So thanks for the hilarious ways that you immortalize our pain and pain in the ass exs who ruin everything. I'm raising my raising my glass (of water as I take my meds) to you, sister. Love you. Truly.

  10. As the only adult in my fucking household (which no longer includes the abusive worthless ex husband but DOES somehow now include his 19 year old girlfriend AND her kid who is in no way related to me OR MY KIDS), I feel you. I am the only one getting shit done here too. The ridiculousness with which my exhusband handles the most basic of adult nonsense is just mind boggling. He didn't want to drive to my small town where I continue to raise our two boys basically on my own (except for the 4 days a month he's father of the fucking year) TWICE this week despite making promises to my Big Kid that he'd take him for Halloween so he wanted him to miss his super important counseling session (necessary because you know, see above about worthless abusive ex) AND school. When I said no, I'm the monster. And now I suspect Big Kid is going to be let down about Halloween and I'll be the monster again. Whatever. Someone's got to be an adult around here.So yeah, get it. If you need me, I'll be sipping a xanax-laced-chamomile tea for the rest of eternity and just trying to hold my anxiety and depression together. Love ya girl.