OK, I’m not really going to make my own Facebook post to combat Asshat’s but I do want to reflect upon what I’m grateful for.
Unlike Cousinfucker I don’t have to reach out to my kids through Facebook (even though my daughter has him blocked and our son doesn’t even have a FB page). I see them every day. I tell them every day I love them and to have a good day. Unlike him I know that they hear me when I say those things because I get an, “I love you,” right back.
On Wednesday before Turkey Day my daughter took me out for breakfast. Her treat. And she was the one who asked me if I wanted to go. We ended up having the best time. She just talked and talked and told funny stories. She had me laughing constantly. I’ve missed that. I feel like I’m missing out on so much of their lives, especially with this crazy schedule I’ve had lately. Going in at 1:30 in the morning I’m going to bed around 6. I get 2 or 3 hours tops with my kids. But on Wednesday Rock Star and I ate breakfast, went shopping, and talked and laughed.
I took Picasso to get his hunter’s license on Thanksgiving so his uncle could take him out. We had a good conversation, too. He got a little frightened with my driving for some reason, apparently thinking I can’t judge distances too well, but I assured him that if anyone died in the crash it would be me. He told me he didn’t want me to die and when I told him he didn’t need to worry about having to go live with his dad he told me he didn’t want me to die because he loved me. Contrast that with his declaration that his dad is dead to him. While he thinks he’s too big to sit on my lap anymore (okay, he is about 5’10 and weighs a good 220 but he’s still my baby and my lap is always open) he is always leaning in to kiss me and tell me he loves me.
In other news as expected Cousinfucker is getting plenty of sympathy on his Thanksgiving Facebook post. Someone (I believe I refer to her as Daniella later on) that he used to work with told him not to give up on them, just to keep letting them know how much he loves them. Eventually they will come around and be able to make their own decisions.
That’s adorable. I’d love to throw caution to the wind and reply on his page: Your sympathy is admirable but save it for someone who really needs it, like his kids. This is the first time he’s mentioned his kids since June. He walked out the door in February and hasn’t set eyes on them since. To be clear, it isn’t because they’ve told him not to come see them. He hasn’t even bothered to ask. This FB post is as far as he’s going to go to reach out to his kids. He doesn’t call; he doesn’t text. Aside from their birthday cards they haven’t heard a peep out of him since June. He lived with his kids for six months after they got the news we were divorcing because of his affair and he didn’t bother with talking to them, reaching out to them, or offering to take them anyplace during that time either. He hasn’t sent child support since May. He forced them to move out of their home and transfer schools. He couldn’t pay for his own daughter’s $80 Homecoming dress but he could spend over $300 on a dress for his whore’s daughter. He didn’t have the money to pay his half of the household bills (or to pay for the damn dress for his daughter) but he had over $4k to spend on an engagement ring for his mistress. In that same month she was able to spend over $400 on sports equipment for her kids, another $167 at Vera Bradley, over $400 on utility bills, and hundreds on eye care- all out of the joint checking account they opened while he was still married (and before his wife even know he was having yet another affair with her) and taking from his own children to support her and hers. He couldn’t be bothered to be engaged with his own kids while he plays Daddy of the Year to four kids who already have a father. His kids have nothing to do with him not because of their evil mother’s influence but because he’s a selfish, entitled asshole who chose a whore and her four kids over his own. He’s never offered a heartfelt apology to either of them. He never bothered to reach out and check on them after finding out we were forced to move out of the state. Never asked a single question about how they were adjusting, how they liked their new schools, how it was living where they were living. Certainly never apologized for forcing his daughter to transfer schools right before her junior year.
Here- let me sum this up in a much more concise statement: Outside of Facebook he never gives them another thought. Facebook is nice and public so everyone can see his grand declarations. It’s no fun texting or calling your kids; no one can see that! He posted that drivel so everyone could see his very public gesture and in turn would feel sorry for him. You all fell for it, suckers!
You know what, readers? In the end, no matter what kind of bullshit he pulls, no matter how bad off financially I am, I have won. My kids love me; they value me. He has no idea what kinds of things they like, who their friends are, what they want to do with their lives. He doesn’t get to talk to them, joke around with them, eat dinner with them, drive them around. He has no idea who they are as people. He will never watch our kids graduate from high school. Neither of them want him there. Hell, he doesn’t even know which schools they attend. He will never watch Picasso at an orchestra concert or watch Rock Star cheering. If our son ends up playing football he won’t be around to give him tips, coach him from home, or watch him play. He won’t know if or where our kids end up going to college or what they choose to do for a career. He will not be the one to walk our daughter down the aisle should she ever marry; he won’t even be invited to the wedding. He won’t be around for our son’s wedding either should he ever marry. If grandchildren are a part of the future he will never know them. He won’t even know they exist.
The sad part is I’m sure he would say the whore is worth it. She has to be now that he’s lost everything. I don’t really care whether he thinks she’s worth it or not. I know I’ve got the better deal. For that I’m grateful.