People talk of true love as if it is something only found in a fairy tale. Too many fairy tales talk of romantic love, not nearly enough about the other types of love that are true and steadfast in our lives. Maleficent taught us all that true love is the love of a parent and child, that unbreakable bond that is forged through selflessly loving another being, caring for them when they are so small and vulnerable, and raising them to be safe and loved as themselves.
I wish I could convey this feeling to others who...just can't seem to "get' it. I wish a lot of things.
Tonight I was woken up by the sound of the bedroom door opening followed immediately by the sound of loud sobbing. Addison. She began rattling off a tale that only made me angrier the longer I listened. Jamie was telling her (two days before the money is due) that he can't afford to pay his half of the money for her senior graduation cap & gown and club dues. Half asleep and incensed at every word, I tried to understand the next part, but I still don't really understand, but he proceeded to tell her that she should have thought about all these things before she wrecked her car? All I know for sure is that I told her that she has to stop talking to that motherfucker. Like right now. And tell him that I fucking said so!
New boundaries are being set. As I write this, I am still processing.
It was the second time that she came in sobbing that made me get all the way up. "Jesus Fucking Christ," I was cursing the summoning-Jesus-curse as I was climbing out of the bed and as many times as I have said it, he just doesn't show in these tough moments!
Who is this fucking monster trying to hurt these children like this? Their father? NO. This is the man who donated his sperm, nothing more. If he can't do anything but hurt everyone around him all the time then he just doesn't get the opportunity with us anymore. I set my own boundary about this long ago and have been reinforcing it. But here is the new one.
No more of this. No more phone calls or texts from him after bedtime. It's just not allowed anymore. And whatever way we have to, we will work out the costs of their care on our own, because asking him for anything always comes with strings attached. No more cars or phones. No more guilt trips and put-me-downs.
The best (perspective, Perspective!) part of this whole scenario is that this is the same guy who encouraged us to move back down here and then--like a father probably should--he (mostly) paid the rent where we were living in the once-a-trap-house-but-always-a-trailer that he rented from his dumbass landlord for $350 each month. The times that he consistently paid for the rent at that place--well, that's about as much child support as I ever have or will receive from this motherfucker. And when it came to the point that he didn't want to pay the rent anymore, he kept telling me that I was going to have to move. He kept saying it like it should be my idea, only it never was, and it wasn't until he and the landlord--at least this is what I think happened--that they decided to tell me that the landlord was selling the place to get me to move out. The landlord came over with a piece of paper that said I would move out immediately and tried to get me to sign it. And then he looked absolutely flabbergasted when I said that I wasn't signing anything like a contract without my lawyer looking at it first and the dumbass was actually like you have a lawyer!?! Anyway, long story short, I told the guy that I would try to be out in about 30 days but that I would never sign any paper saying so...I think it was a whole convoluted mess to try to get me out of there because Jamie didn't want to have to fork over $350 dollars every month. So we moved out without a place to go lined up.
So the kids went to stay with their dad temporarily and suddenly he got to understand just how much it actually costs to raise children. They would complain to me that he would come home from work, stinking, and sit at the kitchen table and drink beer until he passed out in his dirty work clothes. He never bought dawn--they couldn't wash the dishes like he was asking them to do. He would send Addison to the store for him or demand that she take him wherever, whenever. In the summer, he was waking her up in the middle of the night to take him to the motel to meet people. Who does that? Was it for sex or drugs? Was he dealing and or using again?! So many questions?! There was so much I only found out in retrospect and so much more that they probably haven't even told me!! In the last weeks that they were there they called me in the middle of the night because he wanted them to use rags to wipe their asses with because he could go by the store every day after work to get beer but not toilet paper. I took one roll to them and then took them to buy a pack with his money. I think that was the last time that I ever did anything like that for him. Never gonna help that piece of shit again.
When he found out that I had gotten an apartment big enough for all of us and we would move in at the beginning of October, his behavior turned from bad to worse. They said he constantly found ways to pick at them or put them down or complain about what they were doing or weren't doing. He told Addison that if she moved out of living with him and back to living with me that she could never come back!!! This was so upsetting to her! I told her, assured her, that as long as I have a roof over my head, my children are always welcome to stay with me. Who says that to a child???
Silver had looked at living with their dad as an opportunity for Jamie to really show them that he could be a good dad, provide for them, spend quality time with them, and really step up in the father department. It was an opportunity for Jamie to do just that, but it was an opportunity that he squandered being drunk, irresponsible, and childish. Imagine your own children thinking of you as nothing more than an overgrown teenager in temperament and attitude--and imagine them NOT BEING WRONG ABOUT IT!?!?! I had to go pick Silver up on several occasions that Jamie was screaming at him so much and he was so upset that he couldn't calm down and couldn't even eat because of not wanting to be in the same room as Jamie.
Fast forward a whole month of me living here at the apartment and Addison has recently had a car accident and can't drive the car that her dad was letting her drive because it was totaled in the wreck--don't even get me started on how this asshole picked a fight with the very kind police officer who was at the accident scene before the call even went out and helped our daughter out of the overturned vehicle. I was out of town at a pre-planned concert event with Sarah and couldn't make it back for like 3.5-4 hours when I got the call, but I told her that I was coming and sending my Dad to meet Addison at the hospital because we were so far away. They made the mistake of going to Jamie's house and informing him of the accident. He was passed out drunk when they got there and woke him up to tell him. He made his way over to the hospital and proceeded to make a fool out of himself by being drunken and disorderly and very disrespectful to the kind officer who was there simply doing her job. Family and friends who saw his unhinged Facebook posts about the incident were left scratching their heads--yeah, he was unnecessarily angry about the cop and even more so about the car being towed and the phone being lost (or, as he accused the tow staff, "stolen") somewhere along the way, but what about Addison, how was she? Crickets. Addison has a concussion that has gone undocumented and untreated because, when I went to her primary care office to follow up after the accident, they asked for an insurance claim number and when we called Jamie to ask about it, he started yelling at us so I just hung up the phone. The kind receptionist told me that her doctor would likely just send her right back to the ER that she had just been to, and they still might want a car insurance claim number or whatever. I told her that Jamie would need to take her and sign paperwork with the necessary insurance information. Of course it never happened. After about a week or so her dizziness and nausea went away. She's much better physically now, but, emotionally this whole ordeal has taken a toll. Her dad keeps asking her to call about getting new car insurance so he can "help" buy "her" a new car. Wanna know why he can't have a car? Because he got another DUI recently and lost his driver's license FOR TEN YEARS. Wanna know why he wants these kids to have a car so badly?!?!? So he can order them to drive him around in it simply because he bought it "for them" and "pays for everything."
I feel like their father is the Kevin Federline of bumfuck Kentucky.
When we moved in here, first Silver and I, and then after a few weeks, Addison moved all the rest of her things in, and it was immediately better for everyone. The kids were resting better and felt less anxious. Everyone thought that things would get better and they did. And things will continue to get better. I don't think their dad is gonna get any better, but I can't fix him or that situation. But, what I can do, is try not to have to depend on him for anything too important. Isn't that really sad?
My heart breaks for my children. All I ever wanted was for them to have a family that loves them.
All I want is for them to be treated better by their father.
You know who's a good Dad? Mine. Even my kids know that. On more than one occasion they have told me that they wished they had a dad like mine.
I wish that they did too.
I talked it over a bit with my confidant and feel much better because, despite the fact that their father will never be a good father to them, there are so many other people in their lives who can show them true love.
I will continue to give my love unconditionally. To the children I say,
"...Come To Mama
Tell me who hurt ya
There's gonna be no future
If we don't figure this out
Oh, come tomorrow
Who are you gonna follow?
There's gonna be no future
If we don't figure this out..."
If you can just go ahead and read If by Rudyard Kipling again, that'd be great. But, like, really read it. Like analyze it and shit--ruminate, if you will. Please, for the love of god, learn something!
...a lot of people ask me about writing things, and I know I keep saying this, but I can't do any of the writing that I want to do for fun until I finish with some of this shit. so, while this is for me, when you ask me to write, just be careful what you're asking for, because the things that were omitted from the blog before were omitted because they SUCKED SO BAD and I wasn't ready to unleash the horrors
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