Mortality and Regret

It’s funny. All of the issues I had with my marriage came from my upbringing. Being the child of an alcoholic wasn’t easy. My father was an easy target for the small-minded townspeople that I grew up with. I heard about it at school. I heard it from my so called friends, but mostly kids that weren’t my friends.

When my mom finally left my dad and, the following year, we moved away from that small town and those small people. I was so terribly sad that my dad didn’t want me. He didn’t beg us to stay or ask me to stay with him. You know that scene in “Hope Floats” where the little girl has her suitcase packed ready to go with her dad. Then he pushes her away and tells her “I’ve gotta go” and then he drives away and she’s left sobbing hard. I felt her pain. I know that pain. That scene has always struck a chord with me. It always made me sob.

Then I grow up, meet a man. He’s great. Wonderful. Miserable. And I was in love. He was just like my dad. My therapist gave me insight after I had my son. I asked her why I married someone just like my dad. She simply said, “because you want to change the outcome.” How incredibly true…and sad.

Now, today in fact, I find out my dad is dying. He has inoperable pancreatic cancer. He has three to seven months to live. I am terribly sad. But I also find myself hurt and angry with him, just like the day we left him. But my daddy is dying. I will never be able to change the outcome. Never.

I have always had my head full of words and thought up conversations I would have with him. Expressing my feelings to him and whatnot. But my dad is not someone you can really talk to. Or maybe I could have and I just didn’t feel comfortable. Maybe I didn’t trust him with my feelings since I was hurt so often. But whatever, it is pretty painful to know that I will not be able to have that conversation with my dad. I so wanted our relationship to be better, closer.

There is no moral to this story. There are no winners. Just some losers, including me. I am losing a dad. My dad is losing his life. This is sad. No matter what, I still love my dad and I know my dad loves me.

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You know what I said in A New Journey…

Well, it has happened.  I have given J until the end of May to find a job and leave my home.

Saturday morning, about 8:00am, he came into my room to lay in bed with my son and I.  We were just about to get up anyway, so I did not make a fuss.  We left the room and him.  I made my coffee and prepared breakfast for my son.  Finally, I got to go to the bathroom.  As I was heading down the hall, I heard him talking…in English.  The people he mainly speaks to he speaks to in Spanish.  I knew something was up and I knew then that I could not trust him.  I tried to listen at the door, but I heard him say “Just a minute” which was my queue to step away, he must have heard me.

I have become more patient since all of this mess began three years ago.  I didn’t rush in and confront him.  I let it lie.  I would wait for my moment.  M had a soccer game Saturday morning and we would be soon getting ready to go to that.  But I wasn’t sure I should wait too long, the evidence might be erased.

After I got out of the shower, I got J up and told him he needed to shower quick, as we were running behind.  Apparently my mind was elsewhere and I lost track of time.  After he got in the shower, I found my chance to look at his phone.

Since it is locked, I figured it might take me a while…but it didn’t.  My third try I had his code entered and the phone unlocked.  I looked at his call log.  There was a “415” number and someone named Nosila.  Ah, clever.  Nosila…Alison spelled backwards.  I did not care about the calls.  I decided to take a look at his messages…that is where the content lies.  And boy, did I find me some content.

There were numerous messages between them.  Professing their love for one another.  “miss my ally”.  Ugh.  My head began to burn with anger.  I scrolled up a little further to see two pictures of her tits.  Yep.  Her tits.  I can appreciate a nice rack as much as the next girl, but this chic.  Nasty.  Her boobs sagged to her stomach and she had, what I like to call “bologna nipples”.  You know the ones…the boobs with quite large aureola that cover most of the breast itself.  I wanted to vomit.  I wanted to kick him in the gnads!  But alas.  I plainly stated to him that he needed to get out of my house.

And then I told him what a disgusting human being he was and the like.  You know, stuff.  The kind of stuff that was true…

He is sober now, but that has not fixed his lying.  He still lies.  Lies pretty bad too.  I told him that I can not trust him.  Ever.  He apologized.  Begged to stay.  Then found some way to blame me for him doing what he did.

The weekend is over and he is still apologizing.  Still finding reasons why it is my fault.  One of the best ones thus far…it’s my fault because “I am here and you just treat me like your maid…doing your dishes, cooking, cleaning.”

Yep.  ‘Cause he has a shitload of other things to do.  But alas, I didn’t ask him to do any of that.  He wanted some projects, so I asked him if he wanted to organize the storage closet and take down the Christmas lights.  I told him he didn’t have to, but if he wanted something to do…it was there for him to do.

He did that and he has been cleaning.  He even kept asking me if he could do my laundry…I kept saying no.  I am particular about my laundry.  Well, he did it anyways and needless to say, all my white shirts are now blue and/or grey since they were washed with the dark clothes.  Oh well.  Nothing a little beach won’t fix.  I let him know Friday that I appreciated everything he has been doing…and just wanted to let him know that.  I used to feel I did not appreciate him enough…so I thought I would make sure he knew…

Through all of his apologies, he kept bringing M into it.  When I would tell him to leave…he would ask M…”do you want daddy to leave?”  That is pretty low.  I had to take my son aside and have a long talk with him.  It’s difficult with a five year old.  What do you tell him that is going to make sense?  M was beginning to stand up for his dad even though he saw me sobbing.  Well, whatever I said…it worked.  I finally got J to stop talking about the issues in front of him…and I have it set up so that if he does, M knows to run to my room and shut the door.  He knows that mommy’s and daddy’s problems are between them.  He knows not to take sides and he knows that we love him no matter what. I explained to him that mommy needed to stop hurting so she can take care of herself and take care of him.  So mommy needs to eliminate the source of the pain and hurting.  That mommy and daddy do not get along…and we still love him.  But we are better being apart.  It helped.  He stopped accusing me of punishing his daddy and he stopped taking his dads side.  He is silent on the issues and he runs away if J begins talking about our problems in front of him.

And…ugly tits.  That is how he repays me.  Betrays me.  His excuses.  His lies.  Why!?  To what end!?  Well, he got his end.

The end.

Oh, and by the way…I think I just found a new nickname for his trampy girl that likes to date married men.  Ugly tits!



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A New Journey

Once again, it has been a while since I posted.  Life has been great, peaceful, quiet, all is in order.  When life is good, I fall off the writing wagon.  But alas…a new journey has just begun.

J has finished a rehab program.  He is clean, he is sober, he is apologetic.  He admits he should have been there for me and M.  But whatever.  He has come back to be a father, as he should have been for the last three years.  He also wants me back in my life.  He has even begun wearing his wedding ring.

We are not on the same page.  I told him that I still don’t like him.  I don’t.  I have good reasons.  I have great reasons.  I refuse to give in to hate, but having him here makes it difficult.  Having him in the distance was much easier.  It made it easier not to hate him.  He is still friends with his girlfriend on facebook, she still exists on his phone.  He keeps his phone on silent.  He brought coffee for me from Hawaii.  Wait.  She just came back from Hawaii.  The coffee is from her to J.  Not for me at all.

I asked him to not be friends with her.  I have asked him to turn his phone volume up.  He makes excuses.  “We don’t even talk anymore.  We don’t even message each other.”

Then what does it matter if you still have her on facebook or your phone?  No answer.

I told him I want her out of my life if he is going to be in my home.  He has not heeded my pleas.  I broke down into tears.  He came to my side apologizing.  He threw the coffee in the trash.

His phone is still on silent.  He is still friends with her on facebook.

And so begins a new journey.  If he continues to disregard my feelings, he will not be in my home much longer.  That is just how it is going to be.

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Anxious for the Holidays

Who isn’t anxious around the holidays?  They are stressful, even when everything should be fun, happy and not too crappy.  Since having my child, I have found the holidays to hold that “magic”, once again.  It has been nice, really nice.  The last couple of years, not only have they had that magic, they have been very stressful. 

I can find stress in anything, I really can.  This Thanksgiving is no different.  We are staying with my mother this week.  She lives about forty minutes away.  I still have to work, so I am commuting eighty minutes everyday.  I enjoy the decompression time of the commute.  I miss a good commute really, but I do not miss the cost of gas to get me there and back.  Not only that, I am going home on my lunch breaks to feed the fish and to grab things I may have forgotten or that my child has requested I bring.  Yesterday was my first day going home at lunch.

Leading up to lunch time, a horrible, freeze of anxiety fell over me.  I felt like I was back in my postpartum depression days….it was that deep.  I did not want to go home if my child and my dogs weren’t there.  I imagined that going to an empty, quiet home would be much like none of the “noises” actually existed in my life.  No child.  No dogs.  Nothing.  They are my life and they are my center.  My home is my center.  I can’t imagine a life without.  This stressed me out more than not having enough money to afford the kind of Christmas we deserve. 

About six months after M was born, I hit a wall of depression and anxiety.  It was a point when he began chomping on a few solid foods, like crackers or teething biscuits and he also became more mobile.  This added to the already heaping pile of stress on me.  I began going to groups and I confessed my deepest darkest thoughts.  What if I was living an alternate reality?  What if my child had choked on that cracker or cookie and he didn’t make it and he had died?  What if I was living as if he did live and I was just really crazy, moving through my days as if he were alive and he really wasn’t?  What if I was THAT kind of crazy?  I mean, I had day and night dreams about it.  I even thought that I had possibly accidentally drown him in the tub.  I was stressed and my imagination was working overtime to keep up.  I ended up taking Zoloft for about two months, I kept attending counseling and group sessions and I finally saw the light at the end of that tunnel.  Things were clearing up, I was able to leave the house and the horrible dreams were gone; however, the clarity of the stress I felt had just began.  I hated being married to the person I was married to.  I thought he would be different when M was born.  I thought he would shape up.  Be a great husband and father.  That never happened.  He fell short, way short.  But either way, I dealt with my stress then and I will deal with it now.

I am home sick even though I am only staying forty minutes away.  During these times of stress, I just want to be home, in my comfort zone and in the center of the noise that is my life.  Silence is golden, but the noise of my boy and those dogs are better than all of the gold in all of the world.

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I Will Be Your Guardian

Last year I rented “Rise of the Guardians” for my son to watch.  We both ended up watching it and it quickly became one of our favorite animated films.  I still cannot get enough of this movie.  It has such an awesomely, special message.  If you haven’t seen it, here is a short synopsis:

Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and the Sandman are all “Guardians” and appointed by the Man in the Moon to be guardians of childhood.  They all fight the evil “Pitch” who is the boogie man, basically.  Enters Jack Frost, newly chosen to be a guardian.  He fought the appointment and wanted to be rogue.  They all end up coming together to fight Pitch and his evil nightmares to save the day and children’s dreams.

It is really an uplifting movie and my synopsis does not do it justice.  I just love the message that it sends.  It is just a neat idea that these icons of childhood are the guardians of childhood.  Not only is the message phenomenal, but so is the animation.

Later in the year, I had the opportunity to order books through my son’s school Scholastic book program.  I decided to order a book called “Man in the Moon” by William Joyce.  The cover looked so fantastic and felt the illustration would be equally so.  When the book finally arrived, I read the book flap which revealed that William Joyce was also behind the Rise of the Guardians.  I read this wondrous book to my child at bedtime.  What an amazing book!  I highly recommend this book and the film.  I cannot wait to buy other books from the series.  There is another picture book called The Sandman and there are other chapter books that he has also written for the older book reader.  I hope beyond hopes that my child loves to read as much as I do and I also hope beyond hopes that he will enjoy the chapter books by William Joyce.

After reading “The Man in the Moon” to my son, he asks if I am a guardian.  I of course tell him yes.  I am the guardian of your childhood and I will watch over you, “guide you safely from the ways of harm and keep happy your heart, brave your soul and rosy your cheeks.  I will guard with my life all of your hopes and dreams, for you are all that I have, all that I am and all I will ever be.”  What better message from a parent to a child.  (the passage above is not necessarily verbatim, but you get my drift.)

I will always be your guardian, my boy.  Always!

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You Know That Guy?

You know that guy?  That douchebag that used to tell you multiple lies, get so lost and entangled in them, he didn’t know which way was up? The one that you knew was always lying, but you couldn’t prove it, it was in your gut? And even when you did prove him wrong he would tell more lies to get out of the ones he just told? Yea, him.

He just can’t help himself, but you can. Be confident you know the truth because you do. Your intuition IS RIGHT.  You don’t have anything to prove.  You knew he had money in his account to pay child support, but he kept telling you he had to borrow money from his poor family to pay you.  He did that to make you feel bad, to make you feel guilty, to manipulate your feelings so he could get out of it.

He has issues, you don’t.  You are strong, he is weak.  He wants to get out of paying his share for your child.  And what is worse, he doesn’t even pay his full share.  He pays a lot less than his share.  You accept less because there is less of a fight, fewer guilt trips and fewer moments of unrest.

It is amazing that I feel empowered by knowing this. His lies no longer have control of me or how I live. I took control.  I got what I wanted and what I needed by choosing not to believe or even be phased by his lies.

What a wonderful feeling.  He’s that guy.  The one that cannot take responsibility, the one that plays the victim, the one that lies.

Me and my guy say, “Fuck you!”

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Things HAVE Changed. I Have Changed.

It’s amazing what can happen when you let go.  And I have truly let go.  I am so far gone from that stoop that I teetered on a year ago.  On occasion, I do get frustrated, but not like I used to.  My anger level has waned since I prepare for the worst of dealing with my STBX.

My son is now used to not hearing from his father.  He swoops in for a bit then swoops back out.  My STBX was doing well there for a moment.  He’s gotten a new job, he paid one installment of child support and he was sober and calling our son for a month.  Now, he has disappeared again.

He disappeared after he left me a voicemail message.  At first I thought it was a cryptic, drunken message where he forgotten who he was or maybe he was sleeping while leaving me a message and woke up thinking it was just a dream.  It started like this:

“Hey, Kristi.


Uh huh.

Um, yeah, where’s M.

Uh huh.

Yeah, let me call you back…”

It went on for an entire minute.  I don’t understand why someone would leave a fake message for an entire minute. He could have hung up after the first “Let me call you back” but he didn’t.  It went on to say something less than audible…like “Yeah, I put 40 in.”  Ha!  I think that is what it said, but he hasn’t put money in my account for at least two weeks. He had told me he would put money in for M’s doctor bills, but nothing.  He told me he would put money in for his order of M’s school pictures, but nothing.  I really didn’t expect him to.  I figured it was worth a try though.  I keep him informed and my job is done.  I have let go of the anger that came with expecting him to follow through on his monetary promises.  I know it’s not going to happen.

As for the reason for the long, fake message, I am sure it was for the benefit of his girlfriend with whom I am sure he is back with if he is leaving this long of a lying message.  Poor, stupid girl.

He probably called her right after he called me two weekends ago.  We were getting ready for bed; it had been a late night.  The phone rang at a little after 10pm.  Of course it was him and I have no idea why I answered.  M told me he didn’t want to talk to him so it was left to me.  I informed him we were getting ready for bed and it is late.  He wearily told me he loved me.  I told him I had to go.  He told me again and begged for me to say that I loved him.  I could not.  I hung up on him instead.  I don’t love him.  That love has long since been destroyed by our respective demons.  His are still not conquered.  I have mine under control, mostly.  I have my moments…but I grow every day and I am proud of who I am becoming.

I am a great mom and focus 100% on my child.  I give him what he needs and on occasion, give him what he wants without spoiling him.  He earns his “treats”.  He gets all of my love and attention.

So, how have these changes affected me?  My acne has all but subsided.  I cannot believe the change in my skin since I have stopped letting him get under my skin.  The subsiding stress has relieved many things in my life, but this was the most irritating to me.  i still break out a little around that time of the month, but it’s nothing now.  Just a couple of blemishes instead of about twenty.  I get a lot more sleep.  I have a lot more fun.  I enjoy my boy so much more.  I don’t get sad anymore because his father doesn’t pay attention to him.  I don’t get sad anymore because my son doesn’t really seem to care.  He is used to, I guess.  It is the norm and my son has adjusted and adapted, so I adapted right along with him.  He is really an amazing kid.  AMAZING!

So, this is it.  The only thing I have left to decide…do I stay here in Georgia where I might be able to purchase a house or move back to California, where I know I will never be able to purchase a house or even a condo for that matter.  My time limit to think on this is next summer.  I am just not sure.  A big part of me wants to lay down some roots and buy a home and live there for the rest of my life and give my kiddo more stability than he has ever known.  Yet, another part of me misses having friends.  I am not sure how much of my life I should give up for my child.  How much happiness should I deprive myself of?  Will this fix itself in time?  I guess only time will tell.  Changes are coming whether I try or not. And maybe friends will come too.  New friends.

I don’t know.  This is so hard.

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In Heat and Nowhere to Go

The most difficult part of dating as a single parent is not dating at all.  I have zero social life, as my son is with me all the time and I have zero friends in which to socialize with.  I do not think it would be much fun if I went to a bar by myself or even with a book to pretend I have something to do at said bar.

How do I meet guys?  The internet?  Sheesh.  I did try that.  I did sign up for and I really did not find it an honest forum where people could meet.  Nor did I find anyone that I was honestly attracted to.  Do not get me wrong, there were attractive people that were interested in me and I in them, physically, but nothing more than that.

While I am in heat right now, I flip flop between wanting something physical and wanting something emotional and long-lasting.  Because of my twisted female brain and hormones, I do not want both at the same time.  I just keep flip flopping.  So, instead of going online, even craigslist, to search out a victim of my feeling randy, I normally contact people I have had contact with in the past.  Anyone that I think might respond and I usually get my plaything for the next few days.  The only problem with this method is…well…all of them live outside of the state I live in.  So, I don’t actually get laid.  I get p-laid or e-laid, but no skin on skin.  Man, I do wish I had some though…you know…skin on skin.  That would be loverly.

I guess getting e-laid will do for now.  I ain’t got no time to actually get laid or meet some fool that I do not have time for.  It would be nice, but maybe this is my life’s way of saying “Don’t fuck me up now, it’s just getting nice.”



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Soccer Mom Woes

I am certainly not mom of the year and I certainly do not feel like it lately.  I know I have let my son down and I refuse to let myself continue on this destructive path.

His pouty behavior during a couple of soccer games has angered me and I punished him for the behavior after the games.  I do not know why I got so angry about it.  He gets so frustrated with himself because he is not winning or the kids take the ball away from him and it doesn’t give him the chance to win.  I have never told him he has to win, I only want him to try his hardest and I want him to have fun.  But also, no where in there did I say, stand in the middle of the field and pout.

I have encouraged him throughout each game, told him how awesome he was doing, even if he didn’t touch the ball.  He was obviously having fun.  He has done well most of the time, even if he is just running in circles…at least he is trying.  This weekend was my biggest fail as a mom.  I knew he was having a hard time and I just could not figure it out.

When the game ended, he got a treat and a fruit punch.  He was so excited by the package of Oreos he got and came to me and said “Mom, look.”  I quickly snatched the treat away and put them in his bag.  I told myself at the moment it was the right thing to do because he didn’t earn it.

I did not punish him further and I wasn’t really mad at him.  I felt sorry for him.  I decided to do some research on why he is like this.  Why he has this self-defeating attitude when it comes to pretty much anything.  I am not like that.  I am competitive and I feel like I can do just about anything.  If I can’t, at least I try.  I came across a great article in Nashville Parent called “Yes I Can! Coaching Your Child to Counter Self-Defeating Thinking.”  What a great article.  I learned a lot about my child and what I have been doing wrong.  It is a lot to take in.  I examined every bit of what I say to my son and how I handle his

I woke up in a cold sweat at 4:00am last night, horrified at what I had done.  The little bit of joy my son got out of the game on Saturday, I snatched it away.  Those Oreos were the only thing that made him happy and I just meanly snatched it from him, along with his joy.  This is a moment in time I wish I could take back.

My boy.  I am so sorry I have been a bad example for you.  I cannot believe I have done this to you.  As the article points out, my boy has learned this self-defeating behavior from me.  Not only in the way I speak about little mishaps that he get’s upset about, but all of the moments that I have been impatient with him.  Last night, I took a shot at changing the way I address his frustration and way of thinking and I had two such occasions.

First, he was trying to stack some small parking cones we have so he could bowl in the living room.  They were not staying stacked and he was unable to knock them down with his soccer ball.  The end result, he was frustrated and throwing the cones.  I stopped him gently and told him to come sit in my lap.  I explained to him that the cones are really built for stacking and they are difficult to knock down.  How about we figure out a solution together instead of getting frustrated?  If you ever get frustrated and you cannot think of a solution on your own, come and ask me and we will figure it out together.  I think we have some plastic cups in the pantry that would work so much better.  They stack and they are good for knocking down.

Later that night, getting ready for bed, my boy was his usual rambunctious self and refused to settle.  He kept putting his butt in my face which I find amusing the first few times, but then told him to calm down so we could read his book.  Well, he didn’t and he ended up falling on me and elbowing me in the ribs.  “OUCH!”  I did not get angry, but told him to be more careful.  This threw him into a fit.  He get’s so angry when he accidentally hurts me.  It usually comes after I have told him to calm down numerous times.  Sometimes I get frustrated with him when he ends up knocking a glass of water over or hurting me because he cannot seem to calm down at night.  Sometimes, I lose my cool over it…but most of the time I do not.  Those times I do lose it, well, it damages him.  He becomes upset with himself and with me for getting angry.

But not last night.  I did not lose it, but instead pulled him close and spoke to him about what happened.  I walked him through the chain of events and asked him what had happened.  I asked him if mommy was angry.  I asked him about a solution instead of getting frustrated.  We came up with a solution together.

Since before I can remember, I get very amused when someone get’s hurt (but not gravely hurt), just tripping or clumsy mishaps.  It strikes my funny bone.  So, I told him to laugh at me when I get hurt.  I am not sure if this is the right way to go, but we agreed and we moved on and he didn’t stay mad.  It is usually pretty difficult to get him out of these funks of frustration he gets in.

But at 4:00am, I could not help but think that I have been a bad example to my son.  I am not the nicest person in the world.  I try to be kind when driving or in the grocery store or wherever I might go.  But I do not go out of my way to be kind.  I do not help whether asked or needed.  Sometimes I do, but I do not put myself out.  I am selfish.  I am also very self-deprecating.  I always tell my son that something is my fault if I see him beating himself up about something.  But now, I am going to be solution oriented.

I am going to take my son out and practice soccer more during the week to build his confidence in his skills.  I am going to engage him in figuring out solutions to hypothetical problems that occur when he’s playing a game.  I am going to stop taking control of situations when he is doing something.

I am going to figure this whole mother thing out little by little.  I want to raise a confident boy.  And up until now, I thought he was confident.  He is so very social and makes lots of friends.  But he is confident in himself when it comes to kids liking him.  He is not confident in his skills.

This article provides me lots of tools to use with my boy.  Also some tools to use on myself in making sure I do not speak negatively to myself, others, and most importantly, HIM!

I got this.  I can change the outcome.  I do it for this face!

Can you believe anyone could get frustrated with this face?

Can you believe anyone could get frustrated with this face? Peace, Love, Soccer!

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