Meme Queen

They were having some fun over on Chump Lady this weekend, creating memes. I somehow got sucked into it and have created over 50 of them. It’s been so much fun. I thought I would show off some of my artwork. Enjoy!

More Victim Morphing

As I said previously Rock Star and her father had a texting conversation.  Wouldn’t want to actually talk because that might be awkward.  I think she was texting yet again about her allowance.  That child is like a dog with a mighty meaty bone.  She was not letting go!  She later told me about it because, well, let’s face it, I’m the only parent she really has.  In fact, she’s said that to me before.  “I’ve gotta keep you healthy, Mom; you’re the only parent I’ve got.  If anything happens to you I’m NOT going to live with my dad.”

She’s relaying this conversation to me and the whole time I’m thinking, “This is interesting.”  And it was.  You see, the very interesting part comes in when you see this person clearly.  You see him for who he is and you can spot his faults and not make excuses for him any longer.  The victim morphing he was doing was worthy of an Academy Award.

He tells her that he cries every day.  Really?  He’s going to tell his fifteen year old child how much he cries and expect her to feel sorry for him?  Are you freaking kidding me?  He did this to himself!  He walked away from his family!

He tells her how he goes to lunch with his best friend (did I nail it, or what?) and his buddy just listens to him cry and he’s there for him.  He knows that she’ll never believe anything he says ever again and she’ll probably never look at him as her father either.

As she tells me this I cock my head, like a dog does when it’s confused or hears a strange noise.  The entire time I’m thinking that he’s not actually apologizing for anything that he’s put them through.  He’s giving her a long song and dance about all his failings and expecting her to come riding to his rescue and tell him he’s not that bad.  As I said the other day, “Sorry, Charlie.  They’re on to you.”

He tells her that he only has a little over $1000/month to live on; he gives us 70% of his paycheck so that we’re supported.  And he never contested the amount of money he has to pay me.  Cousinfucker, you’re a lying liar who lies!  He did, too, contest the amount of money he had to pay me!  Our lawyers got together and came up with a figure.  He balked and lowballed me.  My attorney came back with another number and he balked at that one as well.  Let’s put it this way:  The amount my attorney came up with was over $2000 more than the number he countered with.  My attorney then returned with a figure that was $1000 more than what CF was wanting to pay and was pretty much in the middle between the beginning figure the attorneys came up with and what CF offered originally.  I ended up getting just $600 more than his original offer.  How he can even say with a straight face that he never contested the amount is beyond me.  Oh wait- no it’s not.  He lives in a fantasy land!  As for his sob story about living on just over $1000/month?  Let me count the number of lies in that sentence!

Lie #1- that figure isn’t even accurate!  He told his attorney he was making slightly more at this job which would mean his take home pay is not LESS than what he was taking home before.  I KNOW how much money he had left over.  It’s close to three times that amount once he’s done paying support.  So cry me a fucking river, CF!  Even if it were true he did it to himself.  Lie #2- I would be willing to bet he is living with his best friend and best friend’s family.  For simplicity’s sake we’re going to call best friend Blockhead.  Now, I don’t know for certain CF is living with Blockhead but seeing as how he didn’t take a single thing with him and didn’t even take all of his clothes my guess is he’s not in his own apartment yet.  That means, once again, every dime he has after he pays support is his- no car payment, no insurance, no rent, no utilities, blah blah blah.  It does appear he now has a cell phone bill to pay because the calls come from the whore’s town but that could still be paid for by his new company even if he did have to go out and get the phone himself.  The only thing he pays for is Harley and her daughter’s cell phone bill and potentially his own cell phone bill.  He has a credit card that is in his name only but most of the charges on it are for her and her kids.  I suppose it’s not so much a lie as it is pointing out that while he may not have a lot of his paycheck left over once he’s paid what he owes us, everything after that is his.  He actually has more spending money than I do because I’m paying all of the bills.  Plus, he doesn’t have those pesky kids around asking for nonsensical things like lunch money, field trip money, pants that fit, new tennis shoes, club fees, money for going out with friends, food… ah yes, the list goes on and on.

He goes on to tell her my absolute favorite lie which is that he had no choice but to move out of state because I would no longer let him live at home.  That one still makes me laugh.  OK, we’ve already covered the fact that he *could* live at home; he would simply have to pay rent.  We’ve also covered the absurdity of the idea that his only solution to being “thrown out” of the family home was to quit his job, move out of the state, move in with Blockhead and get a job working with him.  Yes, I can see how some might think that was the only solution.  He messed up, though, because he did admit to Rock Star when she asked, “Why there?” that it was because Blockhead was his best friend in the entire world.  Again, makes complete sense.  You know, I kinda miss my BFF, too.  I think I’m going to desert my kids and move in with her.  I’m shaking my head at the idea that you’ll move away from your kids so that you can be closer to your best friend.  I did mention that he’s seen Blockhead six times in the last twenty plus years, didn’t I?  There’s a slight possibility he saw him at some point when he was traveling, but I know he hasn’t seen him more than ten times in twenty years.

Blockhead is also the person who outed me and my fake FB page.  I believe that is what started Cousinfucker on his downward spiral.  It led to him voluntarily committing himself.  Guess who didn’t come to visit him?  Blockhead!  He did come a few months after Cousinfucker got out; I’m sure it was so he could talk him into leaving me or assuring him that his affair with Harley was a wonderful idea.  I don’t really care for Blockhead.  Neither do my kids.

He did admit he was still with Harley which led to Rock Star telling me that he obviously wasn’t that sorry about what he had done.  I know there was also some exchange where she told him to go have fun with Harley’s daughter, to which Cousinfucker wailed, “We’re not that close!”  Let’s all cry for him.  Hey, if not being that close results in a new iPhone, my cell phone bill being paid, a $300+ dress, the promise of a car, a brand new dog, $200 worth of Christmas gifts, and my truck being repaired I say, “Hey kids, strive for a not close relationship with your dad!”  Hmmmm…. I wonder if this means that his attempts to bribe them with bling isn’t working.  I knew they trash talked him behind his back; I didn’t realize they didn’t put on a big performance for him in his presence.

Another favorite of mine was when he told Rock Star that he respected me very much as a mother.  Really?  The jackass has left the state, leaving his kids behind with me.  Telling either of them he respects me as a mother is just…. sad?  Obvious?  A hollow compliment?  He left them with me during a hurricane warning.  He left them with me during a blizzard warning.  He left all of their care and upbringing to me the entire time we were together.  Telling them he respects me as a mother is just…. I don’t know.  It’s like saying the sun is hot.  Or that rain is wet.  What does that say about him if he doesn’t respect me as a mother?  Maybe it’s the fact that I look at that “compliment” as bread crumbs being thrown my way.  Apparently I’m a lousy wife, worthy of being cheated on, but I do ok as a mother.  Halle-freakin’-lujah!

Finally, he told her he is still working on his mental health issues and it’s coming along slowly.  Oh please!  I’ve got to be honest.  I don’t believe the man has a single problem.  I spent twenty years babying him.  It wasn’t that long ago that we were planning a move across the country.  He was freaking out about everything.  Even being gone during the showings stressed him out.  Now he can suddenly move out of state without a single issue but we’re supposed to believe he’s “working on” his problems?  Or how about the fact that when he was waiting for the offer to come through for the job here I told him that maybe he should consider leaving his present company and going to another one?  I was told that that would be too stressful and he couldn’t deal with the change.  Wow!  But now that he’s struggling with these so called mental health issues he can suddenly switch companies and even move out of state.  That’s amazing! Oh, let’s not forget that when we were getting ready to sell the house he was worried about not being able to sell it and not making enough money to cover the loan.  Again, I will remind you that back *then* we had a guaranteed buyout.  They wanted him out here so even if our house appraised lower than the loan (we bought just as the housing bubble was beginning to pop) they would undoubtedly once again pay the difference.  We also had all closing costs and commission fees paid for by the company.  Now?  We have none of that.  But apparently that’s not a problem anymore.  Then there’s the fact that shortly before he began his affair he was telling me how he could barely function and even driving to work was almost more than he could bear.  Again, what an amazing recovery!  He can now drive hours to get to his whore every weekend.  He can drive at night.  He can drive during the day.  He couldn’t manage to go Christmas shopping with me, or to a baseball game, or sit out on the porch, or go to dinner with the kids on their birthday, but now he can wander shopping malls on Christmas Eve to shop for kids that aren’t his; he can go out to restaurants.  He can attend class reunions.  Folks, I think we should all alert the VA and let them know that the secret to curing any mental health issues for our vets is to simply advise them to have an affair with their cousin!  Problem solved!

Finally, we had the obligatory:  Your mom and I weren’t very close.  I’m torn on this one.  On one hand, things were getting so much better after the discovery of his first affair.  He was finally engaged in family life.  On the other hand it’s really hard to be close to a person who is constantly shutting you out.  I don’t want to spend my life shut up in a bedroom.  I’m all about watching TV.  I have nothing against it.  But could we please do that in the living room instead of being shut away in the bedroom?  It’s hard being close to someone when they don’t ever want to do anything.  It got to the point where I’d have the kids ask him if he wanted to go someplace with us because he wouldn’t turn them down as easily as he would me.  He is trying hard to rewrite history so that it appears I was this cold calloused wife that cared nothing about him and his feelings, and who left him behind while I pranced around the state doing fun things with everybody except him.  I’m sure there will be those who believe him.  Those people are stupid. I did everything I could but finally I got tired of trying.  It was never enough.

I called him a poopy head to my mom the other day, and I think that fits him.  He is juvenile, childish, entitled, selfish… need I go on?  He is living in a fantasy land that is eventually going to come crashing down around him.  I am still struck by how everything he says is a justification for what he has done.  It is all about painting himself as the victim.  Oh, look at me!  I’m so sad. I cry all the time.  I bet you hate me and don’t even want to think of me as your dad.  I’m a failure.  I’m such a terrible human being.  Tell me it’s not true.  Tell me I’m great.  Never once does he apologize to her.  Never once does he come close to admitting that what he has done was wrong.  She even went so far as to tell him that he ruined her life.  I’m not sure what he had to say in response to that.  Undoubtedly something that portrayed him as the real victim in all of this.  He is a champion at this game.

Seriously?

Remember how I told you that very few things have made me laugh during this whole ordeal?  Great news- I have found one more thing to laugh about.

Rock Star had a texting conversation with her father the other day.  Many things were said but the thing that struck my funny bone was when she asked him why he moved out of state.  His reply, I kid you not, was:  I didn’t have a choice!  Your mother told me I had to be out of the house by X date.

Holy guacamole!  Is he serious? When I was recounting this conversation to my mom I actually began laughing.  The image of it cracked me up.  Folks, if you need an enforcer apparently I am your gal.  By merely having it written into the court order that he needed to find other accommodations or begin paying me rent by X date I forced him to quit his job, get a new job and move out of the state!  I am all powerful!  Hey, quick question, Cousinfucker- if I’m so powerful why couldn’t I prevent you from cheating on me?  I’m kinda thinking that’s where my awesome powers should have started.

I would love to hear from people.  Hell, if you don’t want to comment publicly email me: spaghettisam2016@gmail.com.  Is this the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?  He’s actually trying to sell the idea to his teenage daughter that I forced him out of the house.  OK, that’s lie #1.  As I explained, he had a choice.  Choice #1 was to move out.  Choice #2 was to begin paying rent.  In other words, I didn’t say he had to be out.  I said if he was going to continue to live here he was going to pay rent; he wasn’t going to get away with using all of his money to dote on Harley and her kids while I paid all the bills for another five months or more like he had been doing.

Lie #2 is this insane (key word I believe) idea that if he can’t live at home then he must give up his job and move out of state!  That’s the part that made me laugh.  I could envision the thought process:  Oh no!  I have to move out or pay more money to my wife; I know I don’t want to give her an extra dime.  What am I going to do?  I’m going to have to quit my job!  There’s no way I can move out of the house (or pay rent!) and continue to work at my current place of employment.  I know!  I shall ask my best friend if he can help me get a job where he works.  And perhaps he will even let me live with him and his family.  That way I can continue to pay my whore’s cell phone bill!

The sad part is he really believes all this crap.  Because he believes it he also thinks his kids will buy it.  Sorry, Charlie; they’re on to you.

The Bissextus, Meeting My Soul Mate, and Other Random Stuff

Anybody have any big plans to celebrate the bissextus? Yeah, me neither.  What is a bissextus, you ask?  Why, it is the extra day added to the Julian calendar every fourth year.  I’m so glad you asked.  I am a vocabulary geek.  I LOVE new words.  Some of my favorites are from a 12th grade vocabulary list and they all begin with “O”:  obstreperous, ostentatious, obsequious.  I wish I could find a way to work them into my every day conversations a little easier.  My best friend and I have a little game we haven’t played in years where we begin taking turns listing words that begin with “V”.  Last person to say a word is the winner.  Not geeky enough for you?  I have the dictionary.com app on my phone so I get a nice little word of the day.  Some I save and others I say, “Oh, that’s nice,” and I immediately forget the word completely.  Here’s another one for you:  poikilothermic.  As in:  Cousinfucker is a poikilothermic snake and I hope the karma bus visits him soon!  I learned that one when I accompanied said best friend to a biology lecture.  The poikilothermic part, not the karma bus.

As I referenced above I believe I met the love of my life/soul mate on Saturday.  OK, so I didn’t really meet him and I know nothing about him.  He’s probably married even.  My kids and I were out to dinner celebrating my birthday.  Our chef was telling us that the guy at the table next to us had eight kids.  I didn’t think anything about it at first but eventually I happened to look over there.  Here was a guy at a Japanese steakhouse with SIX kids- all by himself.  I don’t know what happened to the other two if he did indeed have eight, but there were six with him that night.  I counted.  At least three times!  The oldest didn’t look to be much more than 8 or 9, and he also had a baby with him- maybe around a year old.  I’m looking at this scene and thinking, “OMG!  I love this man!  If I were still capable and not so old I would have his babies!”  Cousinfucker couldn’t handle TWO- AT HOME.  If I had told him he had to take our two out to dinner his head would have exploded.  I remember throwing up and having diarrhea and he was going out to the drugstore to get me some medicine.  He actually asked me if I wanted him to take our two with him.  And when I looked at him like he was dumber than a potato and said, “Yes!” he whined, “I was just asking!”

Anyway, I say that stranger is my soul mate but is he really?  I briefly thought about stopping at his table and commending him on taking six kids out by himself but I didn’t.  Shortly thereafter I was telling my mom that men are always applauded for that kind of thing.  Had I seen a woman there with six kids on her own I probably would have thought, “Wow- that’s really brave!”  But I’m not sure I would have lauded her as a hero or thought about becoming a lesbian because I had met my “soul mate”.  A man volunteers at school and it’s headline news.  I make SpongeBob cupcakes complete with homemade frosting, chocolate candy figurines and an entire underwater beach scene and it’s just something moms do.  Let me tell you, those cupcakes were work!  I had to make the separate royal frosting so the seaweed would be stiff and stay upright in the cupcakes. I think I gave up on the royal icing flowers and just piped in a flower.  The candy figurines had multiple colors so I had to do one color, spread it in the mold, chill it, and then work on the second color, finish all the different colors, and then fill the mold.  It took me HOURS to do this because the mold only held 5 figures and I had to do that probably 5 or 6 times to account for all the kids!  Did any man say, “Oh, my gosh, that woman is my soul mate!  I want someone who spends hours hand designing cupcakes for my children!”  No!  A man takes his six kids out to eat and I’m suddenly willing to marry him.  Do you think he would be impressed if I had taken six kids out for dinner?  Probably not.

I will go on to say, however, that it was fantastic to see a father who was capable and involved.  It once again shows that Cousinfucker was full of shit and was a lazy, selfish, entitled sonofabitch who cheated his kids out of way too many experiences.

Speaking of piece of shit fathers, have any of you seen Kelly Clarkson’s performance on American Idol?  I saw her song was #1 on iTunes and I started to listen to it.  It didn’t do much for me.  Then, it kept popping up on my Facebook feed:  Watch Kelly Clarkson’s moving performance.  See what had everyone in tears.  So I watched it.  And I cried.  I’m a sympathetic cryer to begin with but this was just heartbreaking.  I’m really listening to the words this time around because I want to know what has everyone so choked up. Keith Urban has tears in his eyes.  Kelly has to stop at least three times towards the end of the song because she’s getting choked up.  In case anyone hasn’t heard it it’s a song about a father who abandons his child and now that child has a child of her own.  The last verse is:

Piece by piece I fell far from the tree

I would never leave her like you left me

She will never have to wonder her worth

Because unlike you I’m gonna put her first

She told Ryan Seacrest that she wrote it for her own daughter.  I’m sure it resonates for many children.  I’ve watched it twice and each time I think of my own kids who have been left behind by their father.  Then I think of Harley and how “happy” she is and I wonder how it is that anyone can find happiness at the expense of children.  Finally, though, I think of myself and the fact that I’m not going to leave them.  I do know their worth and I will always put them first.  All is not hopeless.  I think that kids can learn how to be an awesome parent simply by refusing to repeat the mistakes of their own mother or father.  My brother is a shining example of that.

Our dad was not around much.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say he abandoned us but we certainly weren’t a priority.  My brother on the other hand is an excellent dad.  He loves his kids.  He likes spending time with them.  He is interested in their lives.  He’s a lot more understanding and patient than any of us thought he could be when he was a young hothead.  My son has said he wishes he had a dad like his uncle.  To my brother’s credit he did say he is willing to step up for my two, knowing they don’t have an active father in their lives.  My hope is that my son emulates my brother and not his father.

Other random stuff that has been happening in my life- more bad dreams/night time experiences.  I’m sleeping better if you count sleep interrupted by rude dogs who demand to go out at odd times of the night as good sleep.  I’m still, however, having bad dreams.  Actually, I’ve had one bad dream and two bad/eerie experiences.  Two nights ago I fell asleep on the couch.  I don’t know why I don’t just go upstairs when I’m getting sleepy.  Instead I “rest my eyes” and it inevitably ends up with me waking sometime in the middle of the night. So, the other night I fell asleep on the couch early- like 9:00.  I woke up because one of my dogs wanted to go out.  Looked at the clock and found out it was only 11:00.  Great!  So I let the dog in, I go upstairs, get ready for bed, and go back to sleep.  Sometime after I fall asleep I hear a door creaking open.  For a minute I forgot I was in my bed and thought I was still on the couch so I begin to freak out because I think someone is coming into the house through the door in the living room that leads outside.  Fortunately, it took only a few seconds for me to remember that I was indeed in my room, upstairs, and I realized it was my son peeking in to see if he could sneak into bed with me.  Unfortunately for him the dogs were spread over the bed and there was no way he could comfortably sleep with me so he went on back downstairs.  That was bad/eerie experience #1.

Last night I had a horrible dream.  OK, it was one part horrible and one part awesome.  Anyway, in the dream two men broke into my house, raped me and slit my throat.  Not pleasant.  I told you it was a horrible dream.  The awesome part comes from the fact that this violent death led me to have a Highlander moment.  For those of you who have never seen the movie the protagonist discovers he is immortal when he is killed on the battle field.  I, too, became immortal.  That was awesome, especially because the two rapists/killers decided to come back a second time and I ended up killing them.  Now, why they would come back is beyond me.  On some level I’m thinking if they’re going to try to kill me again they obviously know I can’t be killed.  Duh!  Regardless, that was the awful dream.  Then on top of that I had once again fallen asleep on the couch and a dog wanted to go out.  I let her out, she comes back in, goes to the laundry room where their food and water is, and then she begins to BARK!  WTF?  I had no idea what she was barking at.  I thought possibly a cat had slipped upstairs but she probably wouldn’t have just barked at it; she would have tried to chase it and there was no chasing.  Only barking.  I did briefly think maybe someone had broken into the house but I didn’t hear anything else, plus I had another dog soundly sleeping despite his sister’s noisy antics.  He’s pretty protective of me so I didn’t think a human was in the house.  That’s when my mind raced to SNAKE!  I’m terrified of snakes.  I don’t live in the country; I’m in a subdivision, in fact.  But the two landscapers from the past summer told me they saw a snake in one of the trees and I have been terrified ever since.  I faced my fears, however, and have done two loads of laundry so far this morning.  Unless the snake is hiding behind the washing machine or dryer then there was nothing there and my dog is simply crazy.

And that is all I have for you on this glorious bissextus!  Enjoy and go do good things!

A Letter to My Kids

Hey Kids,

The time has come for you to find out that your mom is not all powerful.  That I am, in fact, human and I make mistakes.  So I want to apologize to both of you.

I’m sorry I picked such a wretched excuse for a human being to be your father.  He has failed you in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine.  For years I listened to him whine on and on about his father and how he was rejected by him.  But you know what?  He always financially supported him and that’s more than I can say for your own dad.

I’m sorry I chose to be a stay at home mom instead of working a job so that when this time came I could support you without his help.  Don’t get me wrong.  I loved being at home with the two of you.  I loved being the one to take you places and plan school parties and volunteer at your schools.  I loved going on field trips and being here at home at the end of day.  I loved being able to watch you at all of your meets and games, being the one to drop you off and pick you up, being able to travel with you.  I truly did.  In hindsight, though, I never should have done it.  I should have worked.  I should have told your dad that his career wasn’t more important than my own job.  I should have followed my passion and done something with my life aside from being your mom.  I know that sounds like a shitty thing to say and I don’t mean it to be because, again, I loved being here for you.  I still do.  But I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place now.  I’m sinking fast and I’m taking both of you with me.

I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to him more and baby and cater to him less.  Maybe if that had been the case he would have left sooner and I would have more options.  Maybe it would have helped and he never would have done any of this.

I’m sorry I can’t keep you here through graduation, Rock Star.  I cry every time I think about it even though everyone tells me you’re going to be fine.  I’m going to end gymnastics for you forever.  I’m going to take away you being captain for your team.  I know high school gymnastics was not what you wanted and won’t take you to college but it was better than no gymnastics at all.  I’m taking you from a place where you are a very big fish in a pretty small pond and I’m going to turn you into a goldfish in the ocean, if goldfish could survive in salt water.  I feel like I’m ruining your high school experience and I am so so sorry for that, my sweet girl.  Once again, I listened to your dad whine for years about how he was constantly moved as a child and never attended the same school each year.  He never switched high schools though, a privilege he is denying you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t do whatever it was that I needed to do to stay married and give you two a stable home, even if one of your parents wasn’t always sane or even around much.  If I knew what I did wrong, or what I didn’t do that he wanted me to do, I would have taken the appropriate action.  But I have no idea what it is I did or didn’t do that made your dad choose to have an affair.  Honestly, I know  that I can only be responsible for my own actions and he is responsible for his.  I am truly sorry, though, that I couldn’t make this marriage work.

Finally, I am so sorry I agreed to this move.  I am so sorry I tore your lives apart for this shit storm we are in now.  I’m sorry for the pool that we are probably never going to swim in even though we’ve spent a crapload of money on it.  I’m sorry about your friends and your sports and your schools.  I’m sorry about everything that you’ve had to lose and all that you’re still going to lose.  I’m sorry I don’t have a home of our own to move us to.  I’m sorry for all the dreams you have that aren’t going to come true because we have to leave.  I’m sorry for all the plans that you are making that aren’t going to happen.  I’m sorry we’re going to be poor and your lives are going to be turned so far around you aren’t even going to recognize them.  I’m sorry for everything.

Your uncle tells me every time I say that that it’s not me who is ruining your lives- it’s your dad.  I’m here, though, and he’s not.  So I’m the one who is apologizing.  I cannot apologize enough for what is going to become of your lives.  I would say I should have picked better but then I wouldn’t have you two.  At any rate, I failed you both, and for that I’m sorry.  I’ll do my very best to make it up to you somehow.  I promise.

Love,

Mom

Is My New Lawyer Psychic?

I saw another lawyer last week.  I liked her and I decided to switch.  I have many reasons for making the switch but key among them would be communication and the fact that I think my previous attorney botched my case.  Not an all out, Oh my God, I’m ruined, kinda botched.  But he definitely did not do me any favors or get me the best deal possible.

First interesting moment of the conversation with her was when she told me that everything in the court order is modifiable.  And there is a lot I’d like to see modified.  The funny part though is due to Cousinfucker quitting his job and leaving the state I now have a material change in circumstances.  Of course, I can be granted anything by the court but it doesn’t mean shit if he’s going to defy the court order or believes he’s untouchable because he’s out of state.  He probably thought he was going to screw me by getting everything excluded from his annual salary except his base pay and then turning around and getting a new job with a potentially higher base pay, even if the bonuses aren’t as good.  He thought he would screw me by promising half of his bonus check and to pay off the pool with that money and then leaving his job and doing neither of those two things.  Turns out the joke’s on him because with him taking this new job I can now go back and ask to have support re-evaluated.  And this time, when he has to throw in extra to cover marital debt my attorney is going to have that excluded from spousal support.  It will show up as a contribution to the marital debt, which it is, instead of as spousal support to me.  And as far as the bonus check is concerned I still have hope that he actually received it before leaving his company, but if he didn’t I would love to drag his ass before a judge and have him explain why he agreed to something only to turn around and voluntarily resign from his job no more than six weeks later.

The second moment was when the lawyer told me she was concerned for his mental well being.  She said there were a lot of red flags coming up for her and she was very concerned that he was going to have a complete mental breakdown, especially when Harley dumps him.  I explained that two years ago when he was confiding in Jezebel about his affair he told her that Harley made him happy and I remarked that according to Harley he is Daddy of the Year and she’s never been happier.  This is where it begins to get really interesting.

She looked at me and said, “Are you really going to take her word for it?  She’s a married woman with four kids having an affair with her cousin.  He’s a paycheck to her, a sugar daddy.”

Wow!  Here is a woman who has never met me, Cousinfucker or Harley and yet she has said the exact same thing that I have said, that family members have said.  I’ll admit that sometimes I wonder if I’m wrong and that she’s not the real love of his life.  I wonder if I say she’s just a gold digging whore to make myself feel better.  But here is a woman who has seen many, many divorces over the years.  She’s been doing this a long time.  And she has made the same observation.  In many ways it’s validation.  I continue to wrestle with the idea that this is not my fault.  Rationally I know it is not.  But in my insane moments (yes, I do have those!) I keep coming back to the old, “What if I didn’t do this?  What if I did that?  Maybe I should have done this.”  This lady put it all in perspective.  I am correct!  He’s a paycheck to Harley.  She’s a desperate, gold digging mother of four who has found a sugar daddy.  I’m hoping to help him run out of sugar quite soon.

The other thing she said that really resonated was I am the one that kept him grounded.  She had already told me how there were a lot of red flags for her when I told her my story.  She then mentioned that he has this nice little fantasy life going on and once things crumble she’s not sure he’s going to be able to keep it together.  She is very worried that he will end up having a complete breakdown and lose his job.  As she put it (and I’m going to paraphrase here):  When things come crashing down you’re not going to be there to help put them back together this time.  And I have a feeling you were that person- you kept it all going, even if he refuses to acknowledge it.  Again, I have to pump my fist and shout, “Yes!”

I was indeed that person.  I don’t think he has any idea how much bullshit I put up with in order to keep things going.  I took care of the house, the pets, the kids, him.  I cooked.  I cleaned.  I did his laundry.  The man never had to put away his own clothes for crying out loud!  I washed them, dried them, folded them, and put them away!  He never had to wash a dish.  He was the pampered king.  When he would freak out over something small and insignificant I was the one being the soothing voice of reason.  I was the one who would take charge, make the phone calls, get the job done, and interact with the people.  When he got sick I was the one taking care of him, calling the doctor’s office, taking him to the doctor’s or the ER, sitting with him, running interference for him.  In short, I was awesome.  He no longer has me around to do all of those things.  I can’t be certain but I have a definite feeling that Harley is not going to do those things either.  She’s in it for the money, the good times, the attention.  She is not going to be eager to deal with the real him and she’s certainly not going to be standing by him if he ever loses his job and spirals down into a heap of self pity.

So now in addition to being left after twenty plus years, abandoned in a new town that he insisted we move to, him deserting his two children, and him quitting his job and moving out of state I also get to wait for the inevitable breakdown.  I’ve gotta be honest here.  I’m kinda looking forward to it on the one hand.  On the other hand, he’s not going to be of any use to me in a psych ward, or as an alcoholic who can’t keep a job.  It’s a real quandary, I tell you.  I’d love to see him suffer (hey, I’m only human!) but I’m beginning to think that if he suffers the kids and I will suffer as well.  What to do…. What to do….

Just When You Think He Can’t Sink Lower…

Today has sucked.  I got through Valentine’s Day no problem.  That day does not bother me at all.  I woke up today and all Hell has broken loose.  So much for cleaning up my potty mouth because I am pissed beyond belief.

I woke up with a message from my pool contractor, asking me if there was any news or if they should get a lawyer.  I replied that my lawyer was working on it and that I thought Cousinfucker would pay; he was just taking his sweet time.

For some reason I decided to look at my bank account and see if the support payment had been made.  Since September Cousinfucker has had payments directly deposited into my account.  It wasn’t there.  Shit!  Has he decided to fuck with me since he had to move out?  Or is it something far more nefarious?  That little nagging voice in the back of my head wouldn’t go away.

I call my lawyer and tell him my support payment has not been deposited.  I go on to tell him that I have no idea if he’s quit his job, moved out of state, just wants to fuck with me…. I have no clue.  I do tell him that as long as we’ve been married his company has always deposited his paycheck early if payday occurs on a Sunday or a holiday.  He tells me to give it until 2 pm tomorrow in case there is simply a small snafu with the holiday schedule.

While I had been chatting with my mom I texted Cousinfucker’s boss and asked him if Cousinfucker still worked there.  A few hours later I get a reply.  Sam, Cousinfucker resigned several weeks ago.  I wish you both the best.

First of all, WTF?  And second of all, WTF?  I think the best for me has just flown by.  My husband is fucking his cousin and has abandoned me and my kids.  It’s a little late for well wishes!  And seriously?  Did the asshole really quit his job?  Oh yes he did!

I quickly sent another text asking him if he knew whether or not Cousinfucker had received his bonus check before resigning and if he knew where he went.  Remember, Cousinfucker is not responding to me or to his kids.  Turns out part of the reason behind that is because his phone was company property so he no longer has it.

In the meantime I find out that he has left the fucking state.  Yes, that’s right.  Cousinfucker moved me and my kids here, ripped our lives apart, and then turns around and a year and a half later LEAVES THE FUCKING STATE!  Dammit!  I was just beginning to feel settled somewhat.  I had a plan.  Some of my fears were being alleviated.  I knew where to get insurance.  I figured out how I was going to pay for my daughter’s graduation party. I had a plan for how I was going to pay my taxes.  Now?  Poof!  All of that is up in smoke.  Son Of A Bitch!

His boss eventually texted me back and let me know that Cousinfucker was going back home (no, he’s not) and that all other questions should be directed to him.  I texted back:  Thanks for all of your help.  The kids and I sure do appreciate it.

As it stands I don’t have a way to contact him unless I use my kids as a conduit.  I guess I could correspond with his family but I have no stomach for that.  I could possibly also unblock him on Facebook and send him a message that way.  He has left without a word to either of his kids.  His support payment is not in the bank. I don’t know if he plans on paying it or not.  I don’t know if he got his bonus check or not.  I think he probably did because his last direct deposit was January 31st.  I have no idea when, or if, Cousinfucker is planning on paying off the pool.  I have no idea, when, or if, he’s planning on paying me my portion of the bonus check.  I don’t know if he still has insurance on me and the kids.  I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get the bonus included in his annual salary now that he has quit.  I don’t know if he’s making a ton more money at this new job.  I don’t know what’s going to happen with all the unvested stock he had.  I mean, I know he’s not entitled to it but I don’t know if he’ll have to reimburse me for a portion of what I would have received, or if they will be able to use that in income calculations.  He walked away from a job of 15 years.  Oh, God!  I don’t know if my original plan is going to go through.  I had wanted to stay here until my daughter had graduated.  I hate the thought of moving her her junior year.  I really do. Hell, for all I know this new company will offer him a buyout on the house and I’ll either have to accept it and get out now, or he’ll try to make me take on the house and any losses associated with it.  I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to swim in this damn pool that we’ve paid so much fucking money for. I have no idea what he’s planning on doing as far as taxes go.  Is he going to file jointly, or married separately?  Who the fuck knows?  And how will I get any portion of the refund, or will that be yet another thing he tries to keep from me?  I don’t know anything right now.  This sucks so hard!  I hate him.  It’s really hard to get to “Meh” when he keeps fucking with me and the kids.

The good news is I received a lovely gift basket from a fellow cheated on mom/friend.  It included wine!  And I’ve gained about 10 pounds of the 25 pounds I lost originally on the divorce diet.  Thanks to asshole and his machinations I have felt sick to my stomach all day and have had nothing more than a grilled cheese!  Maybe I’ll drop 5 pounds.  Motherfucker!

Things I Worry About Today

Yesterday was a melancholy day for some reason.  I thought maybe writing out some of my worries might help to alleviate them.  Worst case scenario I can look back in a year or two and laugh.  “Oh, Sam, can you believe you ever worried about *that*?”

I worry about what I’m going to do when we’re finally divorced.  I’ll have no insurance.  No prescription coverage.  No dental.  No vision.  I’m a relatively healthy person but it would be just my luck that when I have no insurance I would be suddenly hit with a catastrophic accident or illness.

I worry about the house and what’s going to happen there.  On the one hand I know I don’t want to stay here for the long term.  I’m hoping for another 2 1/2 years.  By the time we are finally divorced it will be less than 2 years I’ll need a place to stay around here.  I don’t want to be left trying to sell the house on my own.  Quite frankly I think if we end up taking a loss he should be responsible for 100% of it seeing as how it was his own bone-headed, erection-driven decisions that led to us selling 2-3 years after buying it.  I also know I absolutely cannot refinance the house in my name alone, and even if we did a quit claim (?) I’m back to the whole “I don’t want to be responsible for selling the house and dealing with any repairs plus any huge financial losses”.  But I’m also not sure where I can rent in my kids’ school district that will also accept pets.  Did I mention I have 3 dogs and 3 cats?  See, I used to own my own home and I kind of arranged my life around that.  I didn’t make decisions based upon, “What if my husband leaves me for his skank ass cousin?”  This is now my dilemma. My hope is that the divorce is not finalized until late this year and that a judge, if it goes to court, will give me 12-18 months before I need to put the home up for sale.

I worry about what’s going to happen when my daughter graduates.  I know I still have time, but a year ago I would have said that she was going to have a fabulous party and we’d give her a wonderful graduation gift- probably a destination trip.  Now I have no idea what I’m going to be able to do.  Graduation gift?  Don’t make me laugh.  I’ll be lucky if I manage to scrape together enough money to throw a graduation party for her- a graduation party that will be sparsely attended for that matter.  I have like 3 friends here- 2 of them have daughters that will have already graduated by the time mine does so I’m not sure how much I’ll be interacting with them.  Most of my friends are in YYY state.  Cousinfucker and his family won’t be in attendance.  I’m going to have a party with less than 20 people in attendance.  For a graduation.  I’m thinking she will be better off just going out to dinner with us.  That goddamn motherfucking pig shit wearing waste of oxygen breathing cousinfucker has taken all this away from my child!  And I hate him for that.  I honestly do not care about him at all as a husband.  Run away, Cousinfucker!  Go fuck your cousin and tell your mommy all about it.  But DO NOT FUCK WITH MY KIDS!  I’m thinking about the graduation announcements and senior pictures.  Hell, do we need to rent or buy caps and gowns?  I graduated over 25 years ago; I honestly don’t remember what we did, and even if I did I’m sure it has changed.

I worry that my kids will have issues down the road.  And I sometimes wonder if my son is taking this too well.  Sometimes I tell myself that it is the benefit of having a father who wasn’t very involved anyway; the kid doesn’t miss him.  But other times I wonder, “Is it natural to be this blasé about your father’s disappearance in your life?”  My son has actually told people, “My dad is dead to me.”  He cares nothing about him.  My daughter is still willing to text him in order to get her allowance or to wish him a happy birthday or even to thank him for the Christmas gift.  My son?  Does.Not.Care.  He’s said outright he does not care if his dad ever gives him another dime.  He tells me there’s nothing he needs.  When I told him he needed to at least text his dad to thank him for the gift card he told me he didn’t have his number; he had deleted him from his contacts.  And he has mentioned more than once that he can no longer trust his dad, that he thinks his dad just used him to try to get him on “his side”, as my son puts it.

Honestly, I figured if one of the kids was more reluctant to take sides it would be him.  He longed for a relationship with his dad.  But he’s the one that he has really distanced himself.  That boy could give classes on No Contact.  My daughter is more practical.  She’s willing to deal with her dad in order to get her allowance and her long promised car.

That brings me to my next worry.  Her having a car would really help me out.  She could drive herself to her own practices.  She could drive herself and her brother to school.  That would give me a little more freedom in regards to getting a job.  However, my guess is Cousinfucker is once again going to plead poverty when it comes time to buying her a car.  Let’s give the poor guy a break.  He’s already promised a car to Harley’s daughter and it’s really tough buying two cars.  If you have to choose between your whore’s kid and your own child what sensible person is going to choose their own?  Am I right?  And seeing as how I’m already paying *his* car insurance I’m not seeing where he’s going to stand up and pay for her car insurance.

I worry about her a lot.  I worry she’s putting too much pressure on herself.  I worry she won’t have good relationships with boys.  I worry about her migraines.  I worry about the anxiety she says she’s feeling.

I wonder (not worry) whether or not I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.  Will I ever find someone else?  Someone who will treat me right.  Someone who will want to go places with me and do things with me.  Someone who will want to be a part of my family.  Someone who will embrace my kids and enjoy hanging out with them, too. Someone who isn’t a drama queen.  Someone who isn’t a miserable shit eating chimp and who won’t bring everyone around him down with him.  Someone who won’t fuck his cousin.  It’s those little things, ya know?

Honestly, I know I don’t *need* another man in my life.  If I look back over the last twenty-one years I feel like I was pretty much on my own the entire time.  I guess maybe we had a good five years before kids came along and he became a gigantic pain in my ass.  Becoming a parent changed my life.  It didn’t seem to change his, though.  And that’s where the problem is.  He still wanted a doting wife that tended to his every need.  After I took care of everything else.

But I would *like* to have someone I could share my life with.  It would be nice, as I said above, if there was someone out there who was willing to go places with me, do things with me.  When I am reluctant to do something, or don’t have the energy to do something, it would be nice to have someone cheering me on.  “Come on, Sam; it will be fun!  I’ll be right there with you.”  Instead I got, “Okay, let’s just go home.”  Or even better, he just wasn’t there to begin with.

I see friends who have husbands that actually *interact* with them and with the kids.  I think that would be nice.  Not a necessity but nice.  The guy that is, not the interaction.

In the end it’s all the not knowing that worries me the most.  I suppose time will tell.  Here’s to hoping that when I look back on this list in a year I’ll be able to laugh.

Some Days I (Want To) Cry, and Others I’m Just Pissed Off

 

It is no secret I’m a big fan of Chump Lady.  And if you don’t know that by now I am obviously not gushing over her enough.  I think she rocks.  She has explained a number of times that she uses the language that she uses on her blog to get people angry, to jolt “chumps” out of their chumpdom.  I say, “Thank God!”  Because I do tend to try to stay very level headed.  I try very hard not to let him get to me and not to let the rage simmer over into a full boil.  It would be so easy to let the rage consume me and let myself completely lose control and go ape shit on his ass.  But I don’t.  I’m looking long range.

There are times though that I get really pissed.  It pisses me off when I think of how blithely he lied to me.  He flat out lied to my face without a second thought.  He waltzed into our bedroom and announced he was thinking of birthday gift ideas for his mom and perhaps he would get her and his stepdad new phones and pay the bill since they only had pay as you go phones.  LIAR!  But, man, was he smooth as silk.  I had no idea my husband could lie to me that easily.

I texted him all summer while the kids and I were away visiting friends and family.  Every morning (or most mornings, I should probably say) I would snap a picture and send it to him with a little message.  Usually that message was simply, “Hi,” or “Good morning.”  And every day he played along, despite the fact that he was texting his whore and probably jerking off to her messages.  We talked about sex and looking forward to it once I got back home.  LIAR!  He just kept conning me.

He callously allowed me and his therapist to “coach” him through his drive for a supposed business trip.  I say supposed because there is some doubt that he was on this trip by himself.  Regardless, we coached him and stroked his ego and told him how he was a big boy and he could do this!  And he probably walked out of there thinking we were two of the biggest idiots he had ever encountered.  Motherfucker!

He casually mentioned going to his mom’s after the business trip.  You know, because he was so close to her house and he could just never forgive himself if he didn’t make the trip.  In hindsight he wasn’t that much closer to her house when he was on the so called business trip than when he was at our house.  Again with the lies.  Again doing it so casually.  And yes, that pisses me off.  To think that he was filled with such hubris.  That he thought he was so much better and so much smarter than me.  To think about all the ways he was pulling the wool over my eyes and not losing one bit of sleep over it.  Like an idiot I fully supported him, told him I had no problem with that.  He even had the audacity to ask me, “Are you sure you won’t be mad?”  I replied, “Of course not.  She’s your mom!”  Joke’s on me because dear old mom had already encouraged Harley to give her dear son a call, and there was a family reunion that they all attended.  HIS family wasn’t there.  Hell, we weren’t even informed about the event.  But he was there, and Harley was there, and they were hooking up a year to the day that our furniture was delivered to our new house from across the country.  You sonofabitch!  You had better thank your lucky stars that I haven’t had a chance to get down to New Orleans because once I do I’m buying a voodoo doll and I’m cursing your ass!

I get pissed when I think about him telling bald face lies all summer long about how he’s helping his mom out with grocery money and using his niece as a cover story.  “Oh, I’ve got to help them.  She’s my niece.  She’s young and she has a baby and she’s pregnant again.  Mom can’t keep up with feeding her and her boyfriend.  I’ve just gotta help!”  And because I’m a nice person, a kind and loving person, a big-hearted person, I thought nothing of it.  Of course we’ll help.

I think that’s the part that chaps my ass the most.  He used everything that I knew about us as a couple and who we were and used that against me.  We did help out our relatives.  I’m not saying we were dropping hundred dollar bills on them constantly, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary  for us to buy groceries, pay rent, send care packages, offer to pay a dentist bill, pay for airfare…  That’s why it was so easy for him to lie to me and get all of this by me.  You want to buy your mom a phone and pay her bill?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  It’s not like we haven’t paid her rent , bought her groceries, made a car payment for her, or “loaned” her money before.  We’ve got it so why not?  You want to send your mom money for groceries?  OK, that sounds reasonable.  You sent her $500 to repair her car?  Um, ok.  You sent her $500 again?  For what purpose?  And then you turned around and supposedly paid $172 for a single fucking tire at a Walmart in the whore’s town?  This is getting suspicious.

But no!  He didn’t know why that charge came up as Whoreville!  It was supposed to be some other town, much closer to his mom.  And he gave her more money because he just knew they were really hurting and needed it.  His mom didn’t ask for it, of course.  He’s such a good son he simply gave it to her because he could anticipate a need.

Yes, that shit pisses me off.  Again, you entitled jackass!  He LIED right to my face, disrespected me, disrespected our kids, our marriage, our everything.  And he used our past and my good nature to sell that lie.

I get pissed when I think about him refusing to take our daughter to his cousin’s funeral because that was just a front to go fuck his cousin.  I get pissed when I think about how, once again, he told me one bald faced lie after another.  What was supposed to be a quick one day trip turned into a five day adventure.  He was supposed to leave on Thursday, attend the funeral on Friday and return that day.  Instead he left on Thursday, told me on Friday that the funeral had been switched to Saturday (but by golly he swears they told him Friday!), and then plans to come home on Sunday.  When I ask him on Sunday, around 3 if he’s heading back soon he tells me he’s not leaving until 8.  What????  This is a man who had to be coached to drive on his business trip less than a month ago.  This is a man who until recently claimed that just driving to work (a mere 10-15 minutes away) was causing him great distress and anxiety.  Now, not only can the enflamed baboon’s ass drive hours and hours, he can even drive in the dark!  Praise Jesus!  It’s a miracle!  But wait!  It gets better.  I get a text at 11:00 at night letting me know he accidentally left with his mom’s keys in his briefcase.  Oh, how silly you are, Baboon Ass!  What a cute story!  Your mom’s keys are in your briefcase because you drove to the funeral.  On Saturday.  And your mom never needed her keys again between Saturday and Sunday.  Oh, that’s a laugh riot.  Now, he has to turn around and go back to Mommy’s house where he will spend the night.  He will come home the next day.  Yet somehow he doesn’t manage to get his ass home until after 5 in the afternoon.  It’s a 6 hour drive.  It also culminated in him rear ending a truck and him needing his own car repaired.  What’s wrong, Boo?  Were you thinking of sliding between your whore of a cousin’s thighs and forget to stop at the light?  Serves you right.  Too bad you weren’t going 70 mph when you slammed into it.  Hey, I told you I was pissed.

All those lies told to me and not one ounce of regret.  He could lie like a pro and not blink an eye.  That pisses me off.  It infuriates me.  You know why?  Because he’s saying, “You’re so stupid I can tell you anything and you’ll believe it.”   That’s insulting.  No, you flaming turd shot straight from Satan’s ass, I wasn’t DUMB; I was TRUSTING.  I trusted my lying, cheating husband of almost 21 years to be honest and faithful.  I misjudged your character.  I thought you had some and it turns out that much like your hair, you don’t have any.  He used our past and my kindness and understanding against me and then has the balls to believe it’s all because he’s such an impressive person who is so much smarter than the average bear.  Word to the wise, don’t ever mistake my trust and kindness for weakness.

I get pissed when I think about how he would SLEEP with his phone, and then make up lies.  “I don’t want to miss a call from my mom; I was afraid I wouldn’t hear it.”  What are you- six years old and away at sleep away camp for the first time?  Was he afraid I would find it and read their nasty ass texts?  You had a thumb print passcode, you jackass!  That was probably a huge lie, too.  “Oh, the company wants us to have our phones password protected so that if we ever lose them proprietary information is safe.”  Just to up the ante and play on my good nature he offered to add my thumb print as well.  “I trust you.”  Sam, you were an idiot of proportions so huge I can’t even begin to find an appropriate adjective.  You were off the charts stupid!  Yes, that’s me talking to myself.

I get pissed when I think about him boldly texting her AT OUR HOME, IN OUR BEDROOM and then lying to me when I ask him who on earth he’s texting that late at night.  “Oh, I’m not texting.  I’m playing Words With Friends.”  Seriously?  You don’t think I know the difference between a text screen and a game screen?

Then I get pissed at myself because I think to myself, “Why were you such an idiot?”  I don’t know!  Yes, I do.  I didn’t want to believe he could be cheating on me again.  I didn’t want to believe he could blow up our lives like that.  I liked my life.  I wanted to keep it.  So I buried my head in the sand and I believed even when I shouldn’t have.  It reminds me of the time we went to the zoo and watched as this chimp would stick his finger in his ass and pull out a shit-covered finger.  He would look at the finger, cock his head, sniff it, and then EAT the shit off of his finger.  Over and over again.  We stood there transfixed for more than a few minutes before we had to turn away.  He’s my shit eating chimp.  I couldn’t walk away!

I get pissed when I think about him checking me out only days after his return from the funeral and getting a hard on looking at me.  You fucking pig dipped in cow shit covered with flies and maggots!  You’re fucking your white trash cousin!  Don’t be checking me out.  I wouldn’t let you touch me if your dick was encrusted with diamonds!  I wonder though, would it piss you off to know that the reason I was so dressed up that day was because I was going to visit a lawyer to see what my rights were and how much you would end up paying me in child support?  Because I did.  Yes, you see, the very next day after I discovered you were back to fucking around with little Miss Harley I started calling lawyers.  I didn’t fuck around this time.  I started lining up my ducks.

I get pissed when I think about him taking off only a few days later to visit “his best friend.”  I mean, it was only fair since his friend had come to see him last time.  This time it was his turn.  Oh, had he forgotten to tell me that this was the weekend he was going?  He thought I knew.  And, of course, he was planning on telling me goodbye but I had just taken such a long time on my errand that he needed to leave before I could get back.  No, Satan, I think you mean you waited until I left to run an errand so you could get your damn suitcase out to the car without me being any the wiser.  Thankfully, I was already on to him, though so I knew it was all a lie this time.  Nonetheless, it pisses me off every time I think of him asking me why I hadn’t sent him a picture of my boobs.  Um, because, Dickhead, you’re fucking your cousin.  It actually puts me into a white hot rage some days.  The hubris.  A man gets brave when he’s screwing a piece of strange, even when that piece of strange is a white trash, gold digging whore.  Considering I’ve been told he has shown naked pictures of me to the whore I wonder now what his purpose in asking me to send him those pictures was.  Did he want to show her?  Is she eyeing some plastic surgery to be equal to me?  Did he want to show her so they could laugh together about how stupid I was?  Did he just want to test me, to see how far he could push me even when he was being a cheating, lying dick?  I don’t know.  I don’t care.  it just pisses me off.

I get pissed off when I think of how he so blithely spends his work days here at this house and then packs his bags and leaves to spend the weekend with his mistress and her kids.  Seriously, is that some entitled shit or what?  Is he just daring me to say something to him?  She can have you and all of your issues, too.  But it is still some entitled bullshit with a side of “Fuck You” tossed in.

I get pissed off when I think of all the money he has given to her, or spent on her.  That and the fact that he had the audacity to tell our son I “took all his money”.  No, Asshole, I simply made it more difficult for you to continue giving Harley every cent we had.

Similarly, I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “I’m not going to continue to allow you to steal every dime I make!”  You wouldn’t be making the kind of money you make now if it weren’t for me, you lying, cheating douchebag.  And I didn’t steal YOUR money.  That was OUR money and you were giving it to YOUR WHORE without MY permission.

Simply looking at his pathetic face pisses me off most days.  I suppose it’s a good thing he does slink in and out of the house.

I was pissed off the day he told me, “This can still be civil.”  Fuck that!  I’ve been civil, you pompous, self-righteous incestuous bastard!  Very, very civil.

I get pissed off when I think about him trying to paint himself as the victim to our kids.  How dumb do you think they are?  This isn’t your mommy and your sister.  Those two idiot enablers don’t live with you, but your kids do.  They’ve been here for the last fifteen and thirteen years.  They know exactly what’s gone on in this house and how you’ve acted.  Your daughter called you out on your shit and your son doesn’t believe a word that you say.

I get pissed off when I think of him telling me, “Why don’t you use some of that money you took to pay the bills?” and then smirking, “Someone’s angry,” when I let loose on him.  I understand why the show, “Snapped” exists.

I think sometimes my biggest regret is not raging against him.  I sometimes wish I had Facetimed him when he was “visiting his best friend” and told him I knew, showed him the picture of his car.  Busted!  I wish I had told him not to come home and that I had thrown all of his shit on the front lawn with a big ol’ sign that said:  Cheater lives here! I moved my entire family across the country so I could fuck my cousin!  Along with a lot of smaller signs simply saying:  A cheater lives at xxxx YourStreet!  Enjoy fucking your whore the rest of the weekend, you asshole!

I get pissed off when I think about him giving a performance of a lifetime as Daddy of the Year for her four kids while he neglects his own.  I realize his relationship (or lack of one) with his kids is his own.  He’s going to have to own it and they aren’t cutting him any slack.  But it still pisses me off.  All these fucking years he shut himself away in his bedroom and left me to fend for myself as a single parent.  He fucks a whore and it suddenly jumpstarts his paternal instinct, although honestly, I think he’s just putting on a very good act.  He’ll get tired of it eventually.  And it pisses me off (and makes me a little bit sad for my kids) when I think of how she brags to people about what a wonderful father he is.  Is he?  Because his own kids don’t think he’s doing such a bang up job.  In fact, they’ve said he sucks as a dad.  But it’s so good to hear he’s treating your kids well.  I suppose when you’re fucking their mommy and she’s still married to their daddy you need to be especially nice to them.  What better way than to buy them off?

I get pissed when I think back to asking him for money to buy a Homecoming dress for our daughter and him telling me he didn’t have the money at this time; he’d have to give it to me next paycheck.  Yet somehow he was able to pay over $300 for a dress for a kid that isn’t his.

I get pissed when I think of how he’s ignoring his kid’s text messages, asking if he’s going to give them their allowances, because he’s too much of a chicken shit to actually admit that he’s not.  Now that he actually has to pay support he is apparently going to take the position of:  I pay child support and that should cover everything you need.  Ever.  That, despite the fact that he has NO BILLS outside of his support payment.  He lives here rent free, pays no utilities, pays no share of the marital debt, has no cell phone bill, no car payment, doesn’t even pay his car insurance.  I get a lump sum and I pay for EVERYTHING out of my money.  But he can’t cough up any extra for a yearbook.  Hey, here’s an idea.  Take that $200+ you spend each month on Harley and her daughter’s cell phone bill and use THAT to pay for your kids’ allowances!  Instead of blowing $300 on a damn dress for her daughter maybe use that money to treat your own damn kids!

I get pissed off when I think about how I’ve done all the grunt work over the years to get him to where he is and she’s going to plant her ass in one place, never moving her kids or her own self and he’s going to work around her.  Or at least that’s the plan.  Wonder how well that will work once he begins his new job and realizes he hates that one just as much as he hates this one because once again he has a boss?  That boss might have the balls to tell him no, or to overrule him on something or not let him have his way on everything.  Then he realizes in order to keep his pussy supply going he can’t move very far and now he’s stuck.  Boo hoo.  I feel so bad for you, CF.

I get pissed when I think about how he never arranged his jobs around OUR lives and US.  No, we were always expected to go wherever he took us.  But now, now he’s all about looking close to wherever the pussy is.  And how ridiculous is it that he was looking at a job smack dab in the middle of both of our home towns?  Seriously?  For over twenty years you couldn’t manage to look in that city which would have put us 2 1/2 hours away from your family and 3 hours away from mine?  That was too overwhelming for you but somehow you can now take on a divorce, your kids hating you, trying to sell a house (probably at a loss) with no guaranteed buyout, and a job change?  Once again, alert the fucking press because a miracle has occurred!

I get pissed when I think about the fact that he could have been promoted instead of us making another lateral move, thousands of miles away, destroying our lives.  But no, that all came to a screeching halt the first time he was fucking around with the dumb bitch and they came up with their little plan to move all of us closer (Why all of us?  Couldn’t he have moved and left us behind?).  He started the wheels turning way back then and we all got stuck with it.  So, instead of us remaining where we were, living the lives we loved while he was promoted and traveled, essentially rendering him a weekend husband and father, we’re here in BFE.  She’s the one that gets the weekend partner and father, instead of us.  Come to think of it, one of the reasons he gave for not wanting to travel so much was he didn’t want to miss out on his kids’ lives.  O.M.G.  That is hysterical!  He doesn’t seem to give two shits about his kids and what they want or what they’re doing.  And isn’t he basically doing the exact same thing he said he didn’t want to do?  It’s just that instead of staying at a Hilton or a Marriott, he’s staying in the family home while he’s away at work and then he drives the six hours to spend the weekend with his fake family.

I get pissed when I think of how casually he told me he was “grateful” to me for moving all over the country for him and his job.  Grateful?  How about acknowledging the fact that you’d still be a fucking 2nd shift supervisor if not for me?  Or perhaps a superintendent if you were very lucky.  The fact that I was willing to relocate instead of stomping my feet and insisting that I couldn’t be moved away from my family meant that you got to “self-promote”, as you liked to call it.  But he’s grateful.

Just like he also “respects me as a mother.”  Considering the fact that I’m the one that has done all of the parenting I would sure as hell hope you respect that.  Not to mention the fact that you run off every weekend to go fuck a whore and play family with her kids, leaving your kids with me.  I would hope you respect me as a mother seeing as how you LEFT YOUR FUCKING KIDS WITH ME DURING A STATE OF EMERGENCY DUE TO A HURRICANE!  And then again during a blizzard (also after a state of emergency had been called).

It pisses me off when I think of everything he has put all of us through.  We all gave up so much for HIM, to make HIM happy.  The end result is he didn’t give a shit.  It was never enough.  My daughter could have been a collegiate athlete; he took that away from her.  So HE could be happy.  My son is not happy here; he’s given up all of his friends, the one sport he loved to play, and the cello.  Again, all for his father’s wishes and desires.  My daughter is suffering- frequent migraines, anxiety, possible depression.  She has lost her drive.  My son is miserable here and wants to go back to YYY state.  I left behind friends.  I dropped all my activities.  For HIM.  Because he was unhappy where we were.  So I did what I always did and told him we would all go wherever he wanted to go.  My mother has said more than once that he couldn’t have left us in any worse financial shape.  Seriously- who the fuck puts an expensive inground pool in their backyard and then leaves their family?  A selfish asshole, that’s who!  He moves us here and now he’s planning on leaving?  WTF!  It’s like he dropped a bomb on our lives and once we had partially rebuilt them he tosses in a few hand grenades.  SURPRISE!

It pisses me off when I think of how he thinks he’s just going to walk away from all responsibilities.  He doesn’t worry about who is taking care of the kids.  He doesn’t worry about who will watch the dogs when he goes away.  Doesn’t give a shit who will watch them if we go away.  He isn’t worrying about finding another house in the kids’ school district, or one that will accept pets.  Hell, he’s not even concerned about getting our backyard back into shape in order to sell this damn place, and he sure as shit isn’t planning on doing any of the cleaning or chauffeuring dogs around when it’s time to show the house.  Nope, he’s free and clear.  He’s a bachelor with no kids, no pets, no responsibilities.  He’s planning on ME doing all the heavy lifting, just like I always have.

If I think way back to when I found out about him and Harley the first time it pisses me off to think of how *I* was the one who was expected to change and dance for him.  Oh, baby, tell me what I can do to make this all better?  What do I need to do so you don’t feel the need to seek out other women?  Let me know how I failed you so that I may improve.  You know who should have had a list of things to work on?  You!  You should have been the one dancing like mad, trying to woo me and win me back.  You should have been doing everything you possibly could have to keep me happy and to make me want you because YOU are the one that fucked up.  Not me!  Here’s the kicker, folks- I wouldn’t even want him to feel like he had to constantly prove himself to me.  I never wanted him to dance for me.  But if one of us is going to have a list I think it should be ME presenting a list to HIM.  I didn’t cheat.  I didn’t lie.  Instead he let me know what all *I* could do.  Unfortunately, I was so stupid I went along with it.  I wanted to save my marriage.  I wanted to prevent my kids from growing up with divorced parents.  In hindsight I should have kicked his sorry ass to the curb and got on with my life.  In YYY state, with my daughter still competing in gymnastics, my son still playing hockey, and me still surrounded by great friends and a support network.

In a similar vein it pisses me off when I think of how he would plead for me to “just leave her alone; let her and her husband work things out for themselves while we work on our own stuff.”  Or how he explained the text she sent to him and his wimpy response.  He didn’t want to hurt her anymore; he felt bad because he knew he had already hurt her when he picked me.  Oh, barf!  She was your potential fuck buddy for less than four months.  I’d been your wife for over 18 years at that point.  He is a liar and a coward and a cheat.

It pisses me off whenever I think about the fact that while he was more than willing to stick up for his whore he refused to stick up for me.  I would let him know it bothered me that his family continued to fawn over the dumb whore and his response was always, “I can’t control them,” or “What am I supposed to do?  They’re grown adults.”  He refused to talk to them about their behavior, instead expecting me to just get over it.  And of course, whining about me not wanting to have a relationship with his traitorous family.  Even when I could overhear his mom telling him how she wanted to work on her relationship with me he wouldn’t ‘fess up and tell her straight out:  Stop interacting with Harley!

It pisses me off every time I think about how he would throw me under the bus with his many fucking lies to anyone who would listen.  He was always the victim and he loved to paint me as a heartless, vicious bitch.  He never corrected any of the fallacies.  Oh no, that might jeopardize his victim stance!  He actually had the gall to tell another sister that I filed for divorce and he had no idea why!  Um, that’s a lie, but if we’re going to go down this route then might I suggest you read your damn divorce papers?  I told you exactly why; I even gave her name and listed her address.

Then he turned around and told this same sister I threw out all of his clothes.  Because he never corrects his inaccurate statements I’m sure everyone in his circle still believes to this day that I’ve thrown out all of his clothes despite the fact that they were all nicely hung up in the guest bedroom.  You see, Cousinfucker fully intended to remain in the master bedroom, watching TV on the 42” TV, sipping wine, texting his whore while I slept on the couch or in the guest bedroom.  He, the cheater, would retreat to his spacious suite all during the week and then on the weekends he would leave to fuck his whore, returning back to the master bedroom sometime Sunday evening or Monday morning.  Unfortunately for him he made the mistake of accusing me of stealing “every dime he made”.  Picture me as Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”:  Big mistake.  Huge!  I kicked his worthless ass out of the master bedroom; I wheeled his dirty clothes into the guest room and moved all his shit out of the closet that weekend.  I think I should get bonus points for actually hanging them up instead of throwing them out onto the lawn.

It pisses me off when I think about HIS MOTHER encouraging Harley to call him.  What kind of an idiot encourages her son’s whore to give him a call because he’s “so sad”?  Seriously??? Don’t you think maybe that’s something you should be discussing with his WIFE?  Oh no!  Let’s call up the whore and see if she can work her magic.

It especially pisses me off when I think of her sitting in my kitchen asking me why we aren’t Facebook friends and telling me that she wants our relationship to go back to the way it was when we were so close, talking about how CF and I have been together for 20 years and that’s a long time.

It pisses me off that she can then turn around and write on my daughter’s Facebook page that she loves her with all of her heart even with everything that’s going on and then beg her not to shut her out.  YOU CAUSED THIS, YOU DUMB BITCH!  Your granddaughter is going through hell because you chose to enlist the help of her father’s whore instead of talking to his wife, her mother.  You have condoned this.  You’ve welcomed her with open arms.  You’ve basically told both of your grandchildren, “Deal with it!”

It pisses me off when I think of *everyone* who has been working behind the scenes to help destroy our marriage.  There was his “best friend” who so helpfully told him about my other page.  Did he really think that was going to help CF?  I mean, I realize I’m just the woman who has lived with him for over 20 years (incidentally, that is longer than anyone else in his life) so as his college roommate he undoubtedly knew CF way better than I did.  Let’s fast forward and get to the conclusion:  No, it didn’t help.  In fact, it put him into a suicidal state.  Was the best buddy around for that?  No.  He had his own life to live.  Just let the cold hearted bitch take care of him.  He actually had the gall to hug me the last time he saw me, all the while undoubtedly encouraging my husband to trade me in for a newer model.

There was his sister who begged him to leave me, who told him he deserved so much better than me.  Where was she when he was in the hospital?  Oh, that’s right!  She left him with that horrible wife and never bothered to come visit him.  At least now she’s not the only one who has cheated and left her spouse for another.  Welcome to the club, baby brother!

Going back even further it pisses me off when I think about how he wanted me dependent upon him and how nonchalantly he went about achieving that goal.  And it really pisses me off when I think of him wasting 20 plus years of my life, making me dependent upon him, and then discarding me like yesterday’s trash once he has decided he’d rather build a life with his cousin.

If I’m honest with myself this whole situation pisses me off.  Being moved 2000 miles across the country, our lives systematically dismantled for his amusement (and happiness, of course; can’t forget his happiness), money poured into a new house, new car, new furniture, new pool, all the things we promised our kids, the lies he told them about this brand new life out here, and then BOOM!  Lies, lies, lies.  As he blows up our lives completely.

THIS is precisely why I try so hard to take the high road and stuff all of this down.  No, not so much stuff it down.  I try to let it roll off my back, like water on a duck’s back.  This is somewhat ironic because I remember standing in the hair salon with my maid of honor and future sister-in-law, aka Jezebel, the morning of my wedding.  We were wearing button down shirts so as to not mess up our hair once it was done.  Our hair was brushed but that was all, and no makeup was worn.  I let my soon to be sister-in-law go first so my best friend and I were standing around talking.  To keep my emotions from welling up and to prevent the tears from falling I kept saying, “I’m a duck.  I’m a duck.  It’s all like water off a duck’s back.”  Who knew that I’d be saying that again at the end of our marriage?  Such irony.  Can we call that the circle of life?  I digress.

I let it all roll off of me, keeping only enough to power me through to do what needs to get done, because if I didn’t I would be consumed by the rage of everything he has done.  Voodoo dolls would be the least of his concerns.  Another Jedi would fall to the Dark Side.  I’ve got kids to raise; I don’t have time for that shit!  So… I let it roll off my back and only every now and then do I allow myself to take a moment to dwell on the Dark Side.

I Gave You 21 Years; Why Couldn’t You Give Me 2?

 

I’m probably dating myself here but I feel like the newspaper carrier in Better Off Dead.  You know the one?  The little kid that keeps screaming, “I want my two dollars!”  That’s me.  Only my rant is, “Why couldn’t you give me two years after I’ve spent our entire marriage coddling you?”

Honestly, our entire marriage I babied him.  I gave into him.  I let him call the shots almost always.  I moved even when I was perfectly happy.  He screwed around with Harley, lied about it, tried to cover it up, and then *I* was the one that made all these changes.  He didn’t change a damn thing.  I gave and gave and gave.  I put up with his “social anxiety”, his “PTSD”, all his bullshit “issues”.  I dealt with him acting like every damn cold he had was the Black Plague and death was imminent.  I accepted the fact that I was going to have to do a lot of this parenting stuff on my own.  I accepted the fact that we wouldn’t do a lot of things as a family because he had better things to do.  I accepted and dealt with a lot. But after the first discovery he couldn’t give me even two years.

It wasn’t just two years to “get over” his first emotional affair.  It was two years to get over that, to accept that he had done it, to try to move on and forgive him and put it all behind us.  But it was also learning to accept the fact that his family betrayed me and supported Harley.  They refused to cut ties with her, citing the fact that she was family; they gave her a ringside seat into my life, our life.  Every reconciliation site advocates no contact but it didn’t really matter if CF and I had no contact with her; everyone he saw when he would go back home to visit had contact with her.  They fawned over her.  I had to learn these new parameters and try to rise above, be the bigger person and tell myself, “I can accept the fact that his mom has a relationship with her and one with me.”  Yeah, if that currently describes you STOP IT!  I was an idiot.  I ate way too many shit sandwiches.  But at the time I knew it made Cousinfucker unhappy when he had to choose between his family and me.  I told myself that if our marriage was going to get back on track that at some point I was going to have to drop the rope and be the bigger person because his family is too stupid and insensitive to ever realize what they’re doing is hurtful, and I can’t keep making him choose between us (despite how right I really was!).

It was learning to accept the fact that his sister would stab me in the back every chance she got.  She never supported our marriage once he began his affair with Harley as far as I’m concerned.  When he told her he was messing around with Harley the first time her advice was to do what makes him happy.  When he complained about the money I would spend she would agree with him that I wasted money.  Funny that neither of them actually knew how I spent the money.  Yes, I was wasting it on frivolous things like groceries, the mortgage, utilities, car payments and insurance, sports for the kids, clothes for the kids, pet food… the list of financial abuses goes on and on!  After sending me a friend request on Facebook over a year after his EA was discovered she whined to him that I had declined it and she was just done!  I could hardly blame her though.  After all, she had reached out to me dozens of times at that point- calling, texting, emailing, FB friend requests.  Oh wait- that never happened.  Yes, this savior of our marriage NEVER reached out to me.  When I discovered his little exchange with his nephew about the tattoos and marrying the whore I texted her and told her to check up on her brother.  That was the one and only time that we had any kind of exchange.  It was started by me and she never checked up on me again.  And of course he once again had to play the poor, pitiful victim.  He couldn’t have a relationship with her if I didn’t like her.  Oh, she just loved and supported her little brother unconditionally.  It made him so sad that he couldn’t have his sister visit our house.  Believe me, I did set him straight on that one!  I reminded him that his sister hadn’t visited us in more than ten years at that time; she didn’t come to our house because she didn’t want to come to our house and I was not going to take the blame for her no longer being “welcome” at our house.

I’m sensing a theme here and it goes kind of like this:  Sam, you just need to understand that you are at the bottom of my priority list.  I’ll throw you under the bus to anyone who will listen and when they stab you in the back while you’re trying to climb out from under the bus tires, I’m going to need you to smile real pretty for them.  You gotta make nice because these people, though I whine and complain about how they’re never there for me and your family is more of a family to me than mine is, are way more important to me than you are.

It was discovering they had made plans to move me and his kids closer to her so that they could carry on their affair and then being asked to trust that everything was over and that this move he wanted was not about her.  Oh, and did I mention that this occurred months after DDay?  Yes, my one year anti-versary was spent in a brand new house only hours away from Harley the Whore.  I moved across the country narrowing the distance between my husband and his mistress by about twenty hours and he wants to go around telling everyone I hate him.  You entitled, selfish ass!

To sum up: I find out in August, the day of my daughter’s birthday party and only days after my stepfather has died, that my husband has been lying and cheating all summer long.  Two months later I find out he was making plans to marry the whore and they were going to get tattoos together.  Three months after that he accepts the offer for the new job which will take us hours away from her.  And he had been talking about this move the whole entire time, offering to give it up for me because even though he was miserable he would be willing to live in misery so that we could all be happy.  You are such a fake, Cousinfucker.

I then am being asked to acclimate to a new town, one that is much smaller than any we’ve lived in for years.  I’m asked to leave all my friends behind.  I’m asked to leave all my volunteer activities behind.  I can’t find anything similar out here and can’t really find anything to do.  I have 3 or 4 friends.  If we want to count people that I’ve met as friends then I may be up to around eight but it doesn’t mean I actually do anything with these people.  My support network is gone.  My tight knit group of gymnast moms is gone.  There’s no more traveling for gymnastics so no more team dinners and sightseeing with a bunch of friends.  No more Bunko.

I’m watching my kids, specifically my son, struggle with this change.  I know he misses his friends.  I know he misses hockey and playing the cello.  He missed his last year of elementary school because at his new school 6th grade is the first year of middle school, instead of the last year of elementary school.  He missed out on the Valentine’s Day dance, the DARE program, 6th grade graduation.

My daughter adjusted beautifully but it was still painful for her to leave behind gymnastics.  She has continued on in a lesser capacity but it’s not the same.  She knows she’ll never improve.  It was, and still is, difficult for her to watch as all her teammates advance and learn new skills.  She recently said to me, “Think about how good I would be now if I hadn’t had to quit.” When asked if she would give up her new life and all the new experiences she has been given in order to be a Level 10 she answers without hesitation, “In a heartbeat.”

I came back from visiting everyone this summer renewed and refreshed, ready to tackle the world and to grow deep roots in my new community.  I needed less than two damn years to get over his emotional affair, to accept the new relationship with his family, and to adjust to a new town.  TWO!  But apparently that was too much to ask of him.  It needed to be instantaneous or he felt unloved, hated even.  I didn’t trust him; I would never be able to get over what he had done.  Cousinfucker, you are a pathetic piece of human excrement.

I gave him twenty-one years of my life.  Twenty-one years of babying him, holding his hand, propping him up, dealing with his various issues, moving all over the place, taking care of him, telling him he was the most special boy who ever lived, and defending him ferociously against anyone who would go against him.  Twenty-one years of listening to him whine, bitch, and complain.  Twenty-one years of doctor’s appointments, ER visits and the like.  Twenty-one years of him being miserable and unhappy about one thing or another.  Twenty-one years, everybody. He couldn’t give me two.