I’m Still Around

No news on the CF front. I’m still mulling over options before I email him. I can only imagine his happiness upon finding out I’ve computed his new child support amount finally.

I really feel like he must have found a new job. These last two months he’s been a mere $700 shy on spousal support. I can’t see him handing over that amount of money if he was truly out of work. Quite honestly I was shocked he sent anything for spousal support.

My fear though is that he figures he did such a great job of self modifying child support that he’s just going to go ahead and self modify spousal support as well. So I know a confrontation is inevitable.

We are still muddling along. My daughter bought a new car last week. Well, my mother loaned her the money. She’s supposed to be paying her back. She’s finally got a job at the hospital which she had been trying for since she got home. She starts in July and she can continue to work while she’s going to school. Of course, she’ll have to come back to work a Friday or Saturday because she can’t actually work while she’s down at school. But… with this new car she’ll be able to drive herself to and from school.

I’m happy and sad about that. Happy because I don’t have to wonder how I’m going to get her to and from school. But sad because that’s more time I won’t be spending with her.

I have been crazy busy these last few weekends and weekday writing doesn’t seem to happen often. Before I took my vacation right before Memorial Day I was busy with my new project- the mobster’s 2 year anniversary gift. Several times the mobster has remarked that I should write all of our adventures down in one place so we could go back and read them. Turns out, I did just that. I am poor and didn’t have a lot of money to put into a gift so I wrote a book for him. By the time I took it to Kinko’s to get it spiral bound it had 157 pages. It wasn’t all writing. I included lots of pictures as well.

I never did proofread the damn thing. I ran out of time. Believe me I started this about a month in advance! I remembered how long it took with the Box ‘O Love and I didn’t want to repeat that. A month, maybe month and a half, in advance I wrote down all the dates and where we went; I wrote down all that we did; I made page breaks so that if I went back and added to one story it wouldn’t affect what happened to the subsequent stories. I even went ahead and wrote the prologue and the epilogue, which were basically love letters to him.

I gave myself a goal of writing one story at a time because I felt that would give me plenty of time to focus on each adventure. I wouldn’t feel rushed and I could really give each one a special touch.

I used Google to look up places we had been. I know we ate at a restaurant in X town but I don’t remember the name. I know! I’ll Google breakfast diners in X town. That’s what I did.

I checked our Facebook page where we log all of our get togethers. He was pretty good about listing everything we had done- so long as it was actually logged on that page. Some of our adventures weren’t.

I also checked our regular Facebook pages to see if there were any clues that might prove useful in telling me what we did each weekend.

I checked for proper spelling of names and places. Google. Facebook. Whatever it took.

Another cool feature I discovered was Google Map’s timeline. That thing is amazing! And a bit scary. There were times, a year or a year and a half later that I truly couldn’t remember everything that we had done. Let me tell ya- you click on your timeline and go to that date and it will tell you everywhere you’ve been! It was wonderful! It helped me fill in a lot of blanks. There were a few times I had to write: I really don’t remember what all we did this weekend. Or: This weekend was a blur. Once I learned that timeline trick- it was mostly a piece of cake!

The writing was done over a week before I left, I believe. It was getting all the pictures that killed me.

Let me tell you about the pictures. I have an Android phone and a MacBook Pro. The two do not mesh well. All of the pictures I had on my phone had to be downloaded onto an external hard drive. This has happened twice. Any current pictures on my phone had to be sent to myself via email. I ended up copying a lot of pictures from Facebook. Thank God for our adventure page and our regular Facebook page! At one point I just flat out asked him to post pictures from this event and this event and that event and this event. I gave him a list of about five different get togethers where I didn’t have many good pictures.

Most of the pictures I was able to download into my iPhoto Library. Others I had to download onto the computer and then rename so that I would know what I was inserting into the document. It took FOREVER! Hence, the lack of proofreading.

So, as he read it I told him to let me know if he saw typos or thought of something I missed. I’m also still trying to add pictures. My intention is to get it hard bound for him. I realized after buying 2 black ink cartridges and 2 color ink cartridges that it really won’t be much more expensive to send it off as a file and do it that way. Merry Christmas!

The interesting thing is we’ve had 35 adventures together in the two years we’ve been together. It was a lot of fun recounting those times, although I will admit sometimes I adapted one of my blog posts instead of rewriting everything over again.

My son has added a whole whopping five minutes onto his driving experience. We went down to see my dad on Father’s Day. He lives out in the country and his late in-laws lived just down the road. My stepmom kept encouraging Picasso to at least drive out of the driveway and over to her parent’s home and then back again. With great reluctance he did. Only another 39 hours and 45 minutes until that license is his! After he takes Driver’s Ed, of course.

I’ve been doing a bit of this and a bit of that on the weekends. The weekend before I left I offered to go to garage sales with my mom and Sweet J wanted me to go to the DAV to go dancing with her that night. The following day I attended a graduation party. That was my weekend that was supposed to get me all caught up with the mobster’s book.

The next weekend was T’s graduation and party and the following week and weekend after that was spent with the mobster.

Next Sunday my mom and I went up to one of the touristy towns in Michigan and walked along the pier, ate lunch at one of my favorite places, bought some special dog treats for the dogs, and then I went and had a wine tasting at one of the wine bars.

I went on a wine walk with my niece and mom in mid-June. That weekend was Father’s Day which I have already written about. The mobster was willing to get together that weekend but I convinced him he should probably really spend it with his kids even though they are all adults now.

I think he realizes it was a wise choice as they all did some really sweet things for him. I know they took him out to lunch and then C and CeeCee had him over to their house for a cook-out for both of their dads.

Last weekend I wanted to get together but there was a big sale going on at Kroger’s and he had to be around for that. Instead, I went grocery shopping on Saturday. It felt like an all day experience! Later that night I went out dancing at the American Legion with Sweet J and some other friends. I know it might sound weird but one of our old friends from high school teaches in a town east of us. She works with two different ladies, both of whom are either married to or dating a man who plays in a band. Every time we go out dancing we are going to listen to one of these guys in their band. Then on Sunday my mom, Sweet J and I all went for a walk.

Which brings us up to this weekend. This time he was hoping we could get together. Alas, it was not meant to be. My niece is getting married in September and this Saturday was her couples shower. My mom, Rock Star and I headed down to Indianapolis and met my cousin, his wife, and their two adorable little girls (3 and not quite 1) for lunch. After that we went to the shower which was very nice. Ironically, the bride’s mother was in charge of it and she rented out an Air BnB in which to throw the shindig. I didn’t even realize they did that sort of thing.

Today I went shopping and I made dinner. Quite the exciting life.

Next weekend I finally get to see the mobster. First time in over a month! That’s why we’ve only had 35 adventures together in 2 years! We get lucky for a short period of time where we meet up every two or three weeks for a month or two and then it’s once a month for the next two or three months. Of course he always tells me to concentrate on the positive. He likes to look at it as we’ve had many great times together and we’ve done so much. That is true. We have done a lot.

So that’s what I’ve been up to. A whole lot of nothing!

The End Of the Road

I am surrendering. My attempt to garnish him is over. The caseworker confirmed that even if CF and I were to agree to the modification, have it signed by the judge, and filed with the courts in Virginia, we would STILL have to have it modified by a judge in Kentucky. I think my chances of him agreeing to a modification are slim to none. In that case I would be paying probably close to a thousand dollars in order to get this modified all so that a judge in Kentucky who doesn’t know our story can give him a giant break on child support.

It is all done according to the worksheet they complete. That worksheet, by the way, has me listing out all my expenses once again and trying to justify getting what I get. I’m fairly certain he gets a chance to do the same and I’ve already seen the exorbitant expenses he has living with the whore and the mulligans. Between the fact that our incomes (assuming he’s using the $100,000 figure from his last job) are pretty evenly matched after he pays spousal support and I receive spousal support, plus the fact that he seems to have extraordinary expenses I would be surprised if I even receive the $700 the state calculator said I would receive.

She advised me that they can make notes but the judge wouldn’t see them- only the attorney from the child support office can review them. Furthermore, while he would need to appear in court to give his testimony, I would be represented by the papers I submitted and the summary of the interstate appointment. In other words, he gets a chance to plead his case and explain to the judge why he should get a substantial break, while I’m back at work trying to make enough money to send my daughter back to school.

I’m prepping myself to email him with all of my information- current pay stubs, pay stubs showing differing pay amounts, insurance amounts. I’m going to suggest that he go ahead and do the calculations since he’ll be doublechecking anyway. Now that I’ve typed that out I realize he’ll probably balk at that and refuse to do so. Once again I’ll be told my lawyer needs to contact him. And I’m going to tell him to go fuck himself unless he’d like to pay the legal bills.

At one point I thought I was going to fight to get him to at least cover Rock Star’s share of the insurance premiums, and to use my share at the $46/month rate from July-December.

I thought of asking him to pay for half of my legal bills, seeing as how I incurred this expense because of him.

I thought of getting bold and asking him to agree to pay 50% of Rock Star’s medical bills. If I were really bold I’d think about asking for 50% of college expenses, including sorority fees.

In the end I think I’m just going to go with the straight forward calculations. Here is what I made back when this started. Here are my new pay rates. Here are the insurance premiums for 2018 and 2019. And I will undoubtedly end up eating all of the damn legal fees.


The only thing I have going for me, my ace if you will, is simply that he’s never modified the court order and most judges don’t like having their orders ignored. The end result? He doesn’t owe me the small difference I would be getting for child support for Picasso. He owes me over $11,000 going by the original order. That, and the fact he still hasn’t paid the $25,000 he was ordered to pay in legal fees. As I like to remind myself, if we go to court and I’m wrong I still leave with an increase in child support and around $2000 in arrears (not to mention hopefully the $25,000). If he’s wrong? He owes me over $11,000 in back child support plus he’ll be facing another contempt hearing for that $25,000.

Unfortunately, I’m probably overthinking this. I can’t figure out how this will play out in court if I do take him back. Yes, he’ll have to explain his non-payment of the court fees. Yes, he’ll have to explain why he wasn’t more proactive in modifying the support order. But I’m not sure the judge would actually order him to pay the $11,000 in arrears. I feel like taking him back to court because he won’t sign off on things I know won’t be court ordered will reflect poorly on me.

I’m expecting it to go badly. He always ends up winning. Seriously. Even my win in court wasn’t really a win. He was imputed at $70,000 more than he actually made. He was ordered to pay child support and spousal support (for 16 years) at a rate much higher than he wanted to pay. But he only paid child support for two kids for a mere six months. The minute he felt he was able he prorated his daughter’s support down to the half hour she graduated. He paid spousal support in full for 14 months. I’m on month five of less spousal support than he’s ordered to pay. Only nine more to go until payment in full equals under payment! I’m counting on it! You know why?

Because NOBODY will fucking help me! Because that bastard made it impossible for me to hold him accountable. He moved us to Virginia where our divorce took place but scampered back to Kentucky as soon as possible. Lost his fucking job which forced me and the kids to move to Indiana. Instead of one state handling it all it’s now three states with their hand in the pot. Brilliant move, Cousinfucker! Brilliant move.

Because my lawyer works at a snail’s pace, constantly puts me last when it comes to her workload, and instead of doing as I ask repeatedly tells me my state should be able to do this for free. Because my state (where I’ve just paid an additional $2200 in taxes) wants to hand everything over to Kentucky and let a judge there decide my fate. Because everyone tells me they can’t guarantee that they will go after spousal support and it’s ridiculous to piss him off when they’ll only be garnishing a small amount of what he actually owes me. Plus, the motherfucker is already voluntarily paying me more than he would be ordered to pay me if it went to court in Kentucky.

I’ve run the numbers. I have two options. I can opt to drop the rope and not continue on with the modification; I can eat the shit sundae that is letting him win and get away with doing whatever the hell he feels like. Or, I can continue to fight him on this for what will amount to $179.24 more per month.

I’m not rich. I don’t make a lot of money. Hell, I can’t afford to support myself in my own place. It’s not that I’m scoffing at the possibility of an additional $180. That could easily be a utility bill or two. Two months of Rock Star’s sorority dues. Almost two months worth of cello lessons for Picasso.

I also realize that some money is just too expensive. I’ve already paid somewhere between $600 and $1000 to my lawyer for the first go round. Honestly, I haven’t been able to open the bill and actually look at it. I have a feeling if I continue down this road it will cost me another $600-$1000.

Essentially I will end up paying a year’s worth (maybe more!) of that additional support to my attorney, in order to reap the benefits for two years.

I guess it won’t hurt to offer up the new numbers. I’ll have to think about whether or not I want to deal with the egg on my face when he flat out refuses to include Rock Star in the premiums or to split my legal fees. Is it worth the additional $87.91 to fight with him? I think he might actually pony up the additional support amount.

I know I’m tired of fighting him. I also know no one is going to help me. It’s all on me.

Father’s Day 2019

How was Father’s Day for all of you out there? Mine was lovely. Honestly, my whole weekend was lovely. Normally I am a total couch potato all weekend long. Like, stay in my pajamas all weekend long. However, this weekend I was quite busy.

Saturday I was all set to accompany my mother to the art fair. It was better than the other option, which was yard work. Thanks to the rain gods and the ominous dark clouds (don’t tell my mom I did a quick rain dance) the yard work was a no go. Alas, on our way to the outdoor art fair it began to rain. We headed downtown instead and went into the shop where I bought my adorable pink hat years ago.


The owner is retiring at the end of this month so everything in the store was 50% off. I found some really cute things. Afterwards we went to a New Orleans themed restaurant where I enjoyed a soup flight and an order of beignets and my mom had a Cobb salad. I did share the beignets.

I had already agreed to dinner with Sweet J a day or two prior so I went home and chilled until she came over. We ended up going to Logan’s for dinner. I thought we were just going to go to dinner and catch up, but she wanted to go out to the mall and to Kohl’s to get her dad a gift. After we did all of that she wanted to know if I’d like to go to a movie. We saw “Men In Black International”. It was great. Very funny. And I didn’t get home until 1 in the morning! I’m rarely out that late!

Sunday Picasso and I went down to see my dad. I had planned on calling the mobster on my way down there but I ended up having a two hour conversation with my son instead. It was wonderful! He’s an incredibly funny, intelligent, sensitive kid. He’s also very quiet and keeps to himself. OK, quiet is probably not correct. I constantly hear him yelling while he’s playing the Xbox with his friends. What I should say is he’s a hermit, immersed in his online gaming. So, it was quite nice to be able to spend those two hours in the car interacting with him.

My dad, on the other hand, is a completely different story. He’s suffering from some sort of dementia so he didn’t really know me but he’s not in pain. He’s still walking around. He still enjoys his dog. He’s just not fully there anymore. My stepmother keeps a pretty close eye on him. We’ve never been close and this is the first time I’ve been down in years but I thought it was important that I go.

The boy and I did have a good time. My dad’s dog is a giant Great Dane. The dog comes up past my hips. He’s huge! Plus, they just found a kitten that my stepmom thinks someone just dumped. She’s about six months old and so sweet. The dog really likes her, too, and she gets along with him. I really miss having a cat but I don’t miss having a litter box.

When I got home I happened to go upstairs. Sitting on my computer was a note and an article of clothing. It was folded up so I didn’t know what it was.


I have the sweetest daughter.

There are so many days I let the bad things overwhelm me. There are an equal number of days where I think to myself, “I am not where I want to be almost four years later.” It’s easy to get depressed and to get down on myself. Days like this though, when I get these sweet notes and acts of appreciation from my kids, it’s hard to feel bad. I may not be able to support myself, or my kids, but they love me. I keep telling myself that’s the real measure of how well I’m doing.

I Almost Forgot What Day It Was

Some things have such a devastating impact on your life you think you’ll never forget the date. That was the case with June 10th.

Long time readers might remember that June 10th, 2016 isn’t DDay. Rather it’s the day CF texted me to let me know he had lost his job, sending me into a free fall of financial insecurity.

This year I completely forgot the date until the day was almost over. I was reading old blog posts and read last year’s post about June 10th when it hit me that today was June 10th. It was 10:45 at night.

I work at a bank. I am aware of the date all the time. Significant dates usually ping my brain, no matter how much I may try to stop them.

Not this year. If I hadn’t been re-reading old posts the day probably would have passed by unnoticed.

That’s a good thing.

What Do You Call Each Other?

It is way overdue to lighten this up a bit. As you all may know I recently turned 50. I’m also dating the most fantastic man on the planet! My mobster.  What to call him though when speaking to others?

Boyfriend and girlfriend at our ages sounds kind of ridiculous. I had boyfriends when I was in my teens and twenties. I started dating again in my 40s. I need something better than boyfriend.

The number one new option seems to be partner. I’m not a fan of that one either. It seems very clinical. Also, what kind of partner? Are we starting a law firm, playing tennis, or having some hot and heavy sex?

Significant other is another one that seems to be popular. Again, not a fan. I think it’s pretentious. Plus, it’s way too many syllables. Six for significant other to two for boyfriend.

I’ve heard of other half, or better half, but that makes me think of co-dependence. He’s my other half? Really? Like, I cannot survive without him? Sorry. I managed 47 years without him. I’d hate to be without him now, but I can definitely manage. He is not my other half. I am a fully functioning, independent person without him. Plus, once again it’s a super saccharine term- my other half. Why don’t I just call him my fucking jigsaw puzzle while I’m at it?

Better half isn’t any better. Why better half? What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you making improvements? What makes that person so much better than you? Are you content with that? Are you going to rest on your laurels and continue to let them be the better person while you roll around in your own filth?

Others I found that were absolutely, positively not going to make the cut were: boo and bae. I’m trying to find something a little more grown up than boyfriend, not take a step backwards. Boo or bae makes me sound like a teenager.

Also offered up was my old man. Now that’s old school. I’ve always hated that. I’m equally opposed to the old lady, the ball and chain, the old ball and chain, and my man. Coming in a close second would be hubby (God, I can’t stand that, not to mention we’re not married).

The mister and my guy don’t offend me but it’s nothing I want to call him.

Similarly I do not wish to be referred to as wifey or the missus (again, not married) although I don’t mind my lady or my girl. Strange, huh?

Beau was offered up and I do like that one, although it would be a bit strange to use that these days. I might try it though. “This is my beau, the mobster.” I think it suits me. And him. Beau makes the short list.

My love was another offering. While I do refer to him as my love I don’t generally use that when I’m speaking to others. “Hello, I’m Sam. This is my love, Mobster.” It’s more of a, “I’m going to visit my love,” or “I can’t wait to see my love,” kind of usage.

Another suggestion was man friend, or woman friend. I guess that’s for those who feel boy and girl are a bit too demeaning. I don’t see the difference honestly. Plus, it’s just weird. “This is my man friend, Mobster.”

Merriam-Webster offers up these words related to boyfriend- fellow, swain, admirer, crush, steady, gallant, suitor, wooer, beloved, darling, dear, favorite, flame, honey, love, lover, soul mate, spark, sparker, squeeze, sweetie, sweetheart, sweetie pie, valentine, fancy man, gigolo, date, and escort.

I don’t know what the hell a swain is, for starters. Most of those are words I might use as a pet name for him but nothing I would use for an introduction. “This is my flame, Mobster.” Nah. And I’ve been told he would be mortified if I introduced him to others as my lover. Which really makes me want to do it, FYI.

Fellow brings back bad memories of the ex and her explanation of where she was when she had disappeared for a weekend. “I was with a fellow.” You’re married, bitch!

For a person who didn’t believe in soul mates I feel like he is my soul mate but I still wouldn’t introduce him as such. It would probably make people vomit. “Let me introduce you to my soul mate! Where is he? Honey? Darling? Sweetheart? Where are you?”

Escort and gigolo make me think of paid dates, and not someone I’m in love with or have a relationship with.

I do like fancy man but again, it’s not one of those terms that rolls off the tongue. “This is my fancy man, Mobster.” I will put that on the short list, along with beau, but I don’t think I’ll be calling him that.

Your Dictionary offers up a few new ones: companion, gentleman friend, inamorato, gentleman caller, paramour, true love, and main man.

I’m 50, not 80. I envision an 80 year old woman calling her new conquest her gentleman friend or gentleman caller. Not for me.

I have no idea what inamorato is.

Main man makes it seem like I’m dating multiple men and I’m not. If I were he wouldn’t be my boyfriend. He’d be “that one guy I’m dating.”

Paramour is what the Virginia courts call the mistress, so that’s out.

Companion makes it sound like he’s my seeing eye dog.

True love, and beloved (not listed, but thought of by me) are lovely terms but again, are more pet names or terms of affection than anything I would actually use to introduce him or refer to him as.

The mobster came up with infinity partner. He really likes that one. I think it’s beautiful but too many syllables and I think people would make fun of us.

I have a term I like although the mobster is not fond of it. I was coming up with naughty terms, like my favorite hide the salami partner. He was not a fan of that one! Hell, I told you he was not a fan of lover. This other one was a hard no!

His oldest son though came up with an amazing term at C’s wedding. At one point he made the comment, “He should be taking her to Pound Town right about now.” I died laughing when I heard that. I have frequently teased him since October with that term, asking him if he’s going to take me to Pound Town. Then I heard it again while watching “Lucifer”.

I mention that because while Pound Town is a destination if you will, I tweaked it a bit and offered up my favorite Pound Town tour guide as an option. I got another big fat no. I’m still keeping it on the list, though.

His ex seems to be fond of sleepover friend. I’m going to give that one a hard pass.

Seems to me I’ve narrowed it down to beau, fancy man, infinity partner, or my favorite Pound Town tour guide. Guess which one is my favorite? I’ll give you a hint…



The County Is Coming For You!



Good Lord, woman, punctuation is your friend! I guess I shouldn’t have bitched about those misused commas. This is simply awful! You give English teachers everywhere a migraine.

He didn’t unblock her but he was searching in his history when he saw this. I guess crazy doesn’t like to be ignored.

First, let’s do this:

You think I’m kidding? You wait. The county is coming for your ass.

Much better.



Only took her 17 minutes to work herself up into a rage because her first try didn’t illicit a reaction. Poor thing!

I’m curious how her boyfriend, you know, the one she left her husband for, would react if he knew about her childish threats and tantrums because her husband moved on. Wonder if she cried to him about it that night?

I’m intrigued though. What will the county do? Is she expecting the county to come arrest him for having a “sleepover” friend?

Um, hello? Is this the county? Yes, I’d like you to go arrest my husband. He has been having a “sleepover friend” stay at our house.

No, I- I don’t live there. I break in occasionally but I don’t actually live there. There’s some kind of paper that actually prohibits me from being on the property but that’s not important. What’s important is that she shouldn’t be there!

How old is my daughter? I’m not sure. 18, I think? Maybe? I’ll text her and get back to you.

You can’t do anything? But he’s having her sleep over with my minor child in the home!

What? 18 is no longer a minor? When the hell did that happen? You know what? I don’t care! I want him arrested. He cannot have sleepover friends! Only I am allowed to have sleepover friends! And I never did it in our house. I always did the courteous thing and disappeared for days at a time until I finally just walked out on him one day.

I’ve already told her that adultery is a class 4 misdemeanor. No jail time. Unlike say, perhaps, a DWI. Plus, you need proof. I have a houseful of people who would testify that the mobster gave up his room so that Rock Star and I could have it. He slept on the couch. Am I never allowed to stay overnight, period? It’s a long drive! Or can I stay overnight if I’m part of a large group? I was one of eight people, not including the mobster and his daughter, that was spending the night that weekend.

She is a mess. Her behavior actually worries the mobster a bit. He fears she could become unhinged and do something horrible.

I, on the other hand, told him he needs to text her back and tell her not to contact him again and then let her know that if she ever does send another text to him he will file a restraining order against her.

Don’t worry. I’m still sitting on my hands. Instead of texting her I’ll just say as they do in the south, “Well bless her heart. I’ll be praying for her.”


Another Take On Graduation Weekend

Obviously this was written before she went on her texting spree. I’m finding it hard to muster any sympathy for her now. I’ll write tomorrow about the second text she sent, soon after she sent the first text.

I wrote earlier about the mobster’s ex crying at the party. I don’t know anything about it except what I was told, and that’s not a lot. I never saw her crying. I’m also fully aware that the woman, much like CF, is a professional victim so I take her tears with a grain of salt.

I suppose that the mobster and I had a chance to switch places this weekend. Last year it was him feeling somewhat sorry for my ex because it shouldn’t have been that way. He shouldn’t have been sitting by himself, away from the rest of the family. We should have been together as husband and wife, celebrating with our extended family the graduation of our smart, beautiful, talented daughter. At least according to the mobster.

I get it. CF shouldn’t necessarily be pitied because he chose this, but the situation is sad. It shouldn’t have been like that. It’s a situation that should never have occurred. But because he made really bad choices there were consequences; the fact he made those bad choices is sad. The fallout to his kids is sad.

I think, too, that for most of the population who has a heart it can be hard to see a person suffer, even if they are suffering due to consequences levied because of their own behavior. I’m not a heartless person. The mobster is not a heartless person. Therefore, when we see a person suffering it is difficult to rejoice even when that person has brought the suffering upon themselves.

I don’t generally feel sorry for the mobster’s ex. She chose to drink. She chose to ignore the help offered at every turn. She chose to cheat. She chose to lie. She chose to walk out on the mobster and their kids. She helped turn their lives upside down in every way imaginable.

Yet I understand what the mobster felt when he attended Rock Star’s graduation. It’s a sad situation. It never had to be like that.

For all of the snarky, condescending things I could have said to her what I think I really would have said, given the chance would be this:

How could you give all this up? He loved you. He adored you. He never would have given up on you. I never would have been here if you had done what you were supposed to.

Do you have any idea how many times I have felt like I couldn’t compete with the memories the two of you made together? You were a family.

He did so many things for you. He bought you a new stove when you got out of rehab because you loved to cook. He bought you roses and painted cityscapes on snow banks.

He worshiped you. He didn’t want a divorce. He wanted you to get better and to be the woman he married so long ago. If you hadn’t made the boneheaded choices you made along the way there would have been no room for me. He defended you at all costs. He was willing to separate himself from his family for you. You always took precedence. He even valued your well-being over that of your children. You were always the first priority. He was a man who absolutely believed that you leave your family and become one with your spouse. He absolutely believed his wife came before anything. He lived that and you didn’t appreciate it one little bit. You took it for granted.

You had a beautiful home back in New Hampshire. You had a pool. You had four amazing kids that loved you. Your husband worked hard to support you and those kids so that you could stay at home and take care of them and homeschool them. Do you have any idea what a gift that was? Yet you threw it all away- first with the drinking, and then with the cheating. He even forgave you but you continued with both.

The ex in my situation provided for us financially but that’s about all I can say for him. He didn’t run around doing sweet, romantic things for me. He didn’t want to participate in family life. He had no interest in doing things with me as a couple. It was like pulling teeth to get him to do things with us. Surprise me with a new stove? Hell, show up unexpectedly with flowers? Never in a million years. He bought me some nice Christmas presents but he never went that extra mile, like the mobster did for you. I could barely get him to participate in date night.

If I had had your life I never would have messed it up the way you did. I would have been so grateful to have a man who loved me, who spoiled me, who put me first, and who wanted to be a partner and a family man. You had all of that and you threw it away like it was nothing.

I don’t hate you; I pity you. You had everything and you didn’t appreciate a bit of it. Now you’re finding out the grass isn’t greener and that must really suck. But I didn’t do that to you. You did it to yourself.

It should have been a happy day. T shouldn’t have had to deal with her mom showing up to her graduation drunk. She shouldn’t have to worry about conflict between her mom and her dad’s girlfriend. She shouldn’t have to hear her friends make jokes about me being the good mom because the reality is I’m not the mom. No matter how much she may come to love me, no matter how big of a role I may end up playing in her life, I am not her mom and that is a loss she will always feel. That beautiful young woman deserves a mother who is fully present and can participate in her life with her, not show up on the outskirts of it.

Her sons shouldn’t dread having to go outside to talk to her. For the most part they stayed away from her. Their girlfriends or wives shouldn’t dread seeing her, or completely dislike her because of her odious behavior. Yet that is a reality. She has failed all of them in astounding ways.

And you know what? It makes me sad. It makes the mobster sad. He never wanted any of this. He wanted to raise his kids in a two parent family and grow old with the woman he married. It’s the difference between what should have been and what is. He tells me he is so much happier and he should have divorced her sooner; yet, he wishes it didn’t have to be that way. In a perfect world both of our spouses would have done right by us, and right by our children. We’d be happily married to the people we chose over twenty years ago. Unfortunately, that’s not our reality.

The mobster’s reality is that his wife walked out and she walked away from her kids and any responsibility she might have had. On one hand she was bawling and carrying on; on the other hand she was walking around the place like she owned it. She was in many respects an outcast at her own daughter’s party while I was busy setting up and preparing food. Yet, she felt entitled to bring her boyfriend, the man she was fucking behind her husband’s back, to the party the mobster was throwing and paying for. Her kids reluctantly went outside to talk to her. His family awkwardly made conversation with her. The day of the breakfast she sat outside with no one unless her sister was with her. She had to deal with seeing me walking around her old home, fixing myself a cup of coffee and playing hostess. She had to deal with the knowledge that her sister and brother-in-law were spending the night in the same house as the mobster and I were. None of this would have been palatable to me if the roles were reversed. So I have a bit of sympathy for her in that regard. However, I also know she was sending the mobster messages telling him she hoped he went to hell the night before the party. I know she loves to play the victim, just like my ex. I know she’s manipulative and lies. Quite honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if none of this bothers her. Oh, I can believe it bothers her she’s not the center of attention, and that her kids aren’t fawning over her. But I don’t think she really cares about everything she lost. If the mobster were still mourning her and begging her to come back… if her kids were still begging her for attention… if everyone had made all over her and acted like they were so happy to see her… she wouldn’t have shed a tear. She wouldn’t have given a single thought to everything she discarded.

If I’m completely honest I’m pissed that she threw this all away so easily. Perhaps she simply figured that he would always be there. He would endure endless amounts of her shit to keep her in his life. I don’t know. What I do know is she got to live the life I always wanted. She got the four kids I wanted and was denied. She had someone who loved her, who put her first, and who always defended her no matter what. CF didn’t do that. He threw me under the bus every chance he got. She had someone who wanted to do things with her and do things as a family. Again, CF didn’t do that. It was rare. The mobster gave up a seven figure profit sharing plan and a lot of money in order to be there for his kids. To this day they are his pride and joy and he doesn’t regret giving that up one little bit (although he does say it would be nice to have that profit sharing right about now).

I also know she brought all this on herself when she walked out. In the end, I guess I don’t feel all that bad for her. I mean, I do when I think about it from my perspective. Her kids want nothing to do with her. She’s lost the most amazing man. But then I remind myself she doesn’t think the way I think. What’s important to me or to the mobster, isn’t what’s important to her. She made her choices and she gets to live with them. As Justin Timberlake would say, “Cry me a river.”

Sitting On My Hands- HARD

If any of you read the mobster’s blog, too, then you already know BSC sent him a text today.


Just like I know kayaks can be deadly but they’re so fun I know I shouldn’t respond but I so want to! I’m going to try to be good and respond here instead.

Hey Batshit Crazy!

Got your text. Few corrections for you.

  1. I’m NOT an online tramp! Online would imply that our relationship exists only online and that we’ve never met up in real life. If that were the case you wouldn’t have seen me at T’s party and you wouldn’t be having your little tantrum.
  2. It is not your house. You are no longer allowed inside without the mobster’s permission. I, on the other hand, am welcome anytime. Did you like what I did with it? The newly painted walls were my idea. I told him he really needed to get rid of that god awful wallpaper so he did. Next to go will be those hideous Harley Davidson orange walls you were so fond of.
  3. You aren’t entitled to 50% of “your” tax return because you are still married. You are only entitled to half when you actually get a divorce. The mobster could have put his entire paycheck into an account with only his name on it and you wouldn’t have been able to touch that money as a married woman. The only way you can force him to “share” if you will, is by divorcing him. Then he has to cough up half. And if you’re honest, which we both know you never are, you would acknowledge that he has offered to pay you your half the minute you sign your divorce papers. You are the one preventing yourself from getting your share. Also, if you’re upset about not getting your “half” of the tax refund you’re going to be really pissed when he sells the house and takes all of the proceeds. Again, as long as you refuse to divorce him he can do with it what he wishes. Half only works when you’re actually divorced.
  4. You’re going to have him “arrested” for adultery? Seriously? You are the one living with another man and have been for the last two years. At least he waited until you left before he started dating again. You are the one who cheated on him repeatedly. You are the one that disappeared for days at a time. You are the one who walked out on him, abandoned your kids, and moved in with another man.
  5. For all your blustering Virginia classifies adultery as a Class 4 misdemeanor which is the lowest criminal offense and only 8 people have been convicted of adultery over a 10 year period. There is no jail time. Sorry to disappoint. At most, he would face a $250 fine. Then again so would you. FYI- I would gladly pay that fine for him. He is that good!
  6. Please learn to spell. A-D-U-L-T-E-R-Y
  7. Virginia is not a state. It’s a commonwealth. Please brush up on your state government/history.
  8. Also, periods are your friend. They denote the end of one sentence and the beginning of another. A comma does not. What you have is a very long run-on sentence. Or, put in a way you might understand: Also, periods are your friend, they denote the end of one sentence and the beginning of another, a comma does not, what you have is a very long run-on sentence.
  9. A judge might order a no sleepover clause… if the child in question was 8. T is 18. She is a legal adult. If Virginia won’t impose child support for a child who is 18 and has graduated high school, and they won’t force a parent to help pay for college costs, I have a hard time believing they’ll put anything into a court order about not allowing him to have a “sleepover friend” with his 18 year old, legally an adult daughter in the house. But you go right ahead and try that.
  10. This daughter you’re so concerned with… Is this the same daughter who you have not helped to support at all since walking out without saying a word more than two years ago? Is it the same daughter you’ve seen only a handful of times since you walked out? I will acknowledge the fact you’ve shown up to her softball games. Generally you were barefoot, cheering inappropriately, or your boyfriend was trying to guilt her into talking to you. You also typically left before the game ended so you never actually interacted with her. Is this also the same daughter whose television you stole and then, when confronted, told her to prove it? Ultimately, you trashed her TV, never apologized, never replaced it, and continue to act like YOU are the victim.
  11. Enjoy the orange. Hmmm…. so many ways to go with this one.
    1. I didn’t realize a fruit basket was included.
    2. The mobster’s favorite- Thanks! I loves oranges!
    3. I guess if he needs any tips you’re the person to go to. God knows you’ve been in jail often enough.
    4. Again, pot, meet kettle. Somewhere in all of this there is a joke about orange being the new black.
  12. This has nothing to do with your text but I want to make it clear that I offered to stay at home and skip T’s graduation and party. The mobster wanted me there. T wanted me there. For her there wasn’t even a question as to whether or not I would be there. When she was told our concerns that you might show your ass if I was there her response was that if that happened YOU would be escorted off the property. Yes, I know that’s mean. No, I don’t care. You have brought all of this on yourself. Stop whining. Stop playing the victim.


The woman who has been described as “a blessing” to the mobster and has been held up as the reason why he is “like a completely different man” by his family (I’ve also been told it’s nice to see him smiling again.)

Whew! I feel better. I guess we know why she was crying now, huh?

In many ways I feel bad about making light of it. I can imagine for a person who is used to being the center of attention it must be difficult to see another woman in her former house. It must be difficult to see your own family members embracing her. It would be difficult for me to know that my own family was staying with the ex and the new woman instead of with me. To be fair, in my situation I was the one who was cheated on; in her situation she was the one who cheated. I’m sure it was hard seeing me help myself to coffee or bustle around the kitchen preparing food for the party. Or seeing his family talk to me and interact with me. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out she absolutely hated the fact that T wanted to get a picture with me, or that she hugged me and thanked me for her party. And as the person who always had her new boyfriend with her she has never been on the other side having to watch her ex with someone new.

Ultimately though just as I said above she brought all this on herself. She walked away. She was so full of herself and so confident that nothing she did would ever make him leave. She thought he would always be her back up plan; she thought he would never move on. He was supposed to be her whipping boy, mournfully awaiting her return, loyal until his dying day.

Sadly for her it didn’t work out that way. Instead she pushed him too far, before he ever knew I existed. He filed for divorce. He decided he was done with her. Then he met me and he’s never looked back.

The moral of the story is: Be careful what you wish for. The other moral of the story is: She’s batshit crazy!