So maybe two posts…because the last one was well…depressing and shitty…as those type of things tend to be…but still needed to be said before it rattled around my brain any more.

So maybe an update of sorts…

I met this most *amazing* guy.  I totally less than three him. 

I am working still…which most days makes me laugh…and wow could I tell you stories…but I’ve found that alot of my stories involve shit or the cleaning up there of…or tales of silly things that have happened that really don’t make sense unless you know the residents I work with.  Let’s just say I think my dad put it best…one day he said…’I'd ask how your day went but I’m afraid that you’re going to tell me’.

Z is going into 4th grade…the Princess is going into 1st.  Time for more hair dye.

The Captain sucks ass…as does his family…and they are probably reading this…so wave…and then they can go back to their ass sucking ways.

Um…and yeah…I need to work on my creativity and inspired writing…anyone wanna be my muse?

Yes…it’s August…dead baby month…time to blog again. 

He would have been 3…this summer…I cannot wrap my head around it.  We were talking about post mortem care at work today.  I couldn’t put into words why the prospect didn’t bother me.

I’ve held a dead baby in my arms…

And it doesn’t get more shitty than that.

I threatened to kill my dad tonight in McDonald’s.  After he bought me supper.  Yeah…I’m shopping for bikinis because I’m totally going to hell.

I mean…it wasn’t a death threat exactly…okay it was…but let me plead my case.

The ‘rents took my kids and my nephews to McD’s to get some dinner and play at the playplace tonight.  This of course required my presence…but hello…free food…I was all over it.

Only problem was there was a school there having a fundraiser tonight so it was crazy. 

So we finally have eaten and find a place to sit.  My dad and I are talking…he waits until I look away…then he takes his empty paper cup…points the opening towards me and thumps his finger really hard on the bottom.  Making a loud and startling sound.

After finding out how annoying it was he did it several more times.

Okay…I may have issued the death threat the first time…and he got a few more in just in case it was his end time.

Yeah…I need to take stock out in air conditioners…

I don’t know why I haven’t written.  I mean…I have a thousand reasons.  Alot of them valid even.  But I don’t write.  I don’t write here…I don’t write on my book…I probably don’t even return your e-mails…and god…let’s not even talk about my Facebook status.

Maybe because life is good.  Or hectic…or…or…or.  I just don’ t know.

Working has been a huge shitty overwhelming transition.  I like my job.  It’s intresting…and fun…and god do I have alot of stories…that could translate into some funny stuff here.

But tomorrow I’m going to miss the kid’s performance at school.  And on Friday I’m going to miss Zak’s field trip.  Yes yes…I got to go to the one last Tuesday.  But somehow in this whole single mom thing I feel like I’ve failed miserably…I can’t be everywhere at once.

And the Captain sucks.  I know…no surprise there.  To say he is a flake is to put it mildly.  It probably doesn’t help matters that he wants to rock the boat at every opportunity. 

But today I wrote.  Maybe a story about my patients…but that’s another post in and of itself.

Wow.

Where should I start?

Yeah…it will be a Captain O entry fer sure…

Picture it…Sicily 189…er…sorry I was channelling Estelle Getty.  It’s Sunday night.  The kid’s stay at the Captain’s house and he brings them to school in the morning.  So I don’t see them until they are out of school in the afternoon.  Digressing…I know.  I call Sunday night…Zak says Abba has hit her head.  I try to talk to Oblivious about it…he says he’ll call me back.  He doesn’t.

So I call him back.  Abba was jumping on her bed (which is a box spring and mattress on the floor…so not super high) he said she did not hit her head…she just cut her lip.  Abba has gone to bed by the time I call back…so I have to take his word for it.

I pick her up from school yesterday…as soon as she sees me she is complaining that her head hurts.  Then as soon as we get to the car she throws up.  She tells me she did hit her head at O’s house.   I call the doctor…who wants her seen in the ER…right then.

We go to the ER…we got in rather quickly.  The pedi doc comes in.  She’s asking Abba questions.  Asks her what she ate for the day.  Abba says Cheetos.  That’s it.  The doctor is now looking at me.  I say…didn’t you have something else for lunch?  She said…’I didn’t eat my hot dog…I didn’t want it’.  So I look at her and ask if she took school lunch.  She says.

Wait for it…
Wait for it…

Daddy packed me a hot dog for lunch.

WHAT?

Captain packed her a COLD hot dog for lunch…so the kid didn’t eat.

Now when the doctor goes to do the exam she says…let’s just check you and make sure you didn’t get any bruises or anything when you fell.

Now they think my kid is abused or neglected.

Great.

Thanks Captain…thanks alot. 

Her head hurt so bad because she was freaking hungry…and got so hungry she was nauseous.

Yeah…that’s exactly why he’s the ex.

Bastard.

Just quickly the bare bones of it all…

-The Captain stopped behaving.  I knew it wasn’t going to last long.

-I love school.

-School is keeping me busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest.

-I haven’t been allowed to give enemas yet.  Although there is one girl in class that if she does not shut up will be getting on in the parking lot…WITH A GARDEN HOSE.

-I’m tired…oh so tired.

Th-th-th-that’s all folks…

Does it make for bad blogging if the Captain has been on good behavior? 

It does, doesn’t it? 

So…we won’t talk about that much…except to say…that he has been…even brought me chicken soup when I was sick…and helped me figure out buying a car.  Okay…in all honesty…for a second I was like…maaaaaaaaaaybe.  Then I thought NO.  It would never work.  And it would always be what it was.  And it will be that way again in 10 seconds.  Hey…I was deliriously sick…cut me some slack.

Okay.

But I have a car ya’ll.

A car.

A new car.

New to me.  But I don’t care.  It’s mine.  It’s paid for.  I can go the grocery store when I want…even if it’s to just buy one thing.  I know…how frivolous is that?  In fact…maybe that will be my plan…I’m gonna go and just buy a candy bar.  And maybe some vitamin water.  Wait.  That’s 2 things.

I’m totally digressing here…

The timing is excellent…because class starts on Monday.  I got my book…I have to read the first 3 chapters before school starts.  I of course skipped around, through and ahead.  Did you know I can give enemas?  I know…right?

Is it bad that I’m looking forward to it?

I’m a sadist, aren’t I?

Shush…we’ll just not go there for right now…

It’s been awhile since we’ve had a Ricky story hasn’t it?  Hush.  I know it’s been awhile since we’ve had any stories round these parts.  I can see your sarcastic little grin right through this computer screen.  Okay…I can’t…but it made you feel creepy for a minute, didn’t it?

I needed to put something up in each of the kid’s bedrooms tonight.  I went to get my power tools.  Okay…it was a drill…but it makes that whirring sound when I press on it…so it’s a power tool, right?  Just say right.  Thank you.

Looking through my tool stuff reminded me of Ricky.  Was it because he was so handy around the house?  No.  It’s because they are my tools.  And they were even mine when he still lived here.  Boyfriend didn’t even have a hot clue about what to do with a screwdriver.

Okay…so that was less a story…and more just me remembering how sucky he was.  Wait…is.  It’s just that he sucks on someone else’s time…not mine.

And…and…and.  I’m starting my class next week.  4 weeks and I’ll have my CNA as well as my home health aide.  I think that means I have to wipe shat off people.  Wait…I do that now.

It’s my million step process to being a nurse. 

My next step is getting an LPN…then an RN.  I should be done by the time I’m 85 and too old to work. 

But it rocks…it’s on my terms…and at the end of the day…I’m happy.  Power tools and all. 

We’ll talk about the hole in my ceiling later…

It’s been warm here the past 2 days.  By warm I mean above zero…and maybe some melting ice and snow.

Smooch took this opportunity to wear a dress out yesterday that had spaghetti straps.  It was a little big.

And as we are waiting for her haircut…she takes off the light jacket that I insisted she wear over it.  She then looks down at her chest…and announces loudly for all to hear.

OH NO…MY NICKLES ARE SHOWING.

Yeah…nickles.  Between this and Zak’s explanation of a period I think I’m rocking out the sex ed thing.

Or not.

I really hope my kids knew what they were doing when they picked me for their mom.

I made pancakes this morning.  Okay.  And by made I mean the frozen ones that you put on a plate and cook in the microwave.  Geez…I’m not all June Cleaver up in here. 

So…I’ve buttered them…and have syrup on them…and I’m cutting them.  When somehow there was like a jolt in the space/time continum and the plate slipped…causing the pancakes to become airborne.  Being that it was early in the morning my ninja-like reflexes weren’t sharply honed…so they landed on the floor.  Smack in the middle of the pile of floor sweepings I had just scooted in the corner with a broom.

I’ll be honest with you.  I probably looked at those pancakes for a good 10 seconds…wondering if they could just be put back on the plate…crunch and all.  I mean…kids need fiber right?

Until I hear a voice say…’mom…I saw that…I want new pancakes’. 

I don’t think most kids need to monitor their moms on this stuff.

Just sayin…

I’m sad.

I really miss Joseph.

That’s all I wanted to say.

Dear cat,

Thanks for puking hardcore all of the downstairs carpet.  It was a lovely gesture.  I especially love how you did it in the middle of the night so it had the appropriate amount of time to sink in before I could clean it.

Sincerely,
Me

P.S.  Good luck scooping out your own litter box.

I hate laundry mats.  Okay…well…I guess that no one really likes them.  To be honest I’ve never heard a person say they love going.  Okay…but shhhh…maybe the cool snacks in the vending machines they have make it rock just a little bit.  But only a bit.

My washing machine started leaking last night.  Why last night?  Because it hates me and knew I had a ton of laundry to do.  Why else?

So off I went to the laundry mat today. 

I felt like a caged animal.  Wanting to leave…but knowing I couldn’t.  I didn’t want anyone making off with my super cool undies after all.

As I’m sitting there trying to zone out…one of the other people at the mat (see…that’s how I roll…I’m now just calling it the mat)…is trying to get out the front door.  Now…it used to be an automatic door…but isn’t anymore.  It’s just one of the ones you pull/push on.

But yet it doesn’t go exactly how you think it would go.  She had her hands full…and was assuming she could push.  Which just made her bash into the glass a little.  And me…in my caged animalness…thought I could get a leg up on karma and get out of my seat to open the door for her.

But I’m like halfway out of my seat and she opens it.  So we made eye contact as I was halfway back down to sitting.  And yeah…I’m pretty sure I looked like as much of an idiot as I felt like.

Then I figured I’d bribe the kids with some vending machine snacks.  So I say loudly to one of them…’do you need some quarters’.

This is as the stetchy guy that’s been there washing his comforter walks by…and he assumes I’m talking to him…so he halfway takes some dollars out of his pocket.  Then he spies the kids and realizes I’m not talking to him.

For the record…he *did* look like as much of an idiot as he probably felt like.

Just saying…

Where do I start with the recent stories of the Captain.  I guess I’ll just go with the recent one since it’s freshest in my mind.

Captain Oblivious has been falling down severely on the job of being a dad lately.  This is partly because I’m not there to cover up for his shortcomings…and…oh wait…the fact that he is a big ole jerk.

Abigail has protested visits with Oblivious lately.  She says her stomach hurts too much…she can’t go.  Once she was upset saying she needed to come home…but he wouldn’t bring her.

Last night they went with him for their scheduled overnight.

They called and said goodnight.  The rule is…asleep by 8 on a school night.  I’ve had to have many talks with him about this.  Asleep by 8 does not mean…going to the laundrymat at 9 in your pajamas…crap like that.

I’m fixing my dinner…cleaning the house.  My phone rings at 8:15.  It’s Zak.  He says his throat feels like it’s going to close up.  He hasn’t eaten anything that would do that.  And we had an incident of this a week or so ago…when he was so nervous and stressed out about the school performance that he ended up down in the nurses office feeling the same thing.  It was anxiety.

Zak wanted me to come and get him.

Oblvious lives a good 1/2 hour away.  Why…cuz he’s a jerk.  I think I might have mentioned this in chapter one somewhere.  I called back on the way to see if Zak was okay.  Oblivious said he was fine as soon as I said I”d come and get him. 

I didn’t tell him I was taking Abba as well…because I knew he wouldn’t let me through the door if I said that.  She wanted to go as soon as she saw me though.  And I’m not leaving her out there by herself…period end of statement.

I walk in…there is only one working smoke detector in the place.  He told me this was taken care of…as well as the fact that he was putting up carbon monoxide detectors…which he hasn’t.  I mentioned this to him…and he said…well…there is a smoke detector on the counter there.  Hey genius…smoke rises…it needs to be installed… on . the . ceiling .

This morning he is supposed to pick them up for school.  It’s part of the agreement.  8 passes…no word.  At 10 past he says he’ll be here by quarter past…but it non specific about where he actually is.

When he arrives at 25 past…he is in a sweat suit.  Unshowered…unshaved…looking horrible.  Says he’s calling into work because he hasn’t been sleeping well.

I spoke to him a bit ago…he didn’t call in…went home to change (50 extra miles) and is now at work.  I’m betting he still didn’t shower.

Advice?
Thoughts?
Contributions to a mob hit?

Yeah I’m a bad blogger.  I know.  I own it.  That counts for something, right?

So…it’s day 5 of the new year.  I was so glad to see 2008 go.  I was hoping Adam Viniteri would show up to kick it out in style.  But he didn’t.  Jerk.  I don’t like him anyways…going to the Colts and all.

Wait.  I’m digressing.

So I think I’m supposed to have new years resolutions or some crap like that.

I guess I sort of do…but they haven’t made it to paper.  Wait…if I write them here…that sorta counts doesn’t it?  Yeah…well…I say it does…so there.

So here goes…in 2009 I want to…

Live life my eyes wide open…without being scared.  Without being scared of the future…and without being in bondage to the past. 

Love the people in my life with my whole heart…and make sure they know it.  This involves lots more hugging and kissing the kids…which they will detest and probably try to squirm away from.  Don’t laugh at me or your next on my hugging/kissing list.

Breath more deeply.

Look at the stars more often.

Write.  Wherever…whenever.

And I suppose I should have something practical…

get more calcium maybe? 

Although I personally think that looking at the stars beats calcium out with a stick anyday…

Word to the wise.  If you don’t have a grown up marriage with someone…don’t expect it to be a grown-up divorce. 

Captain Oblivious was around these parts for the holiday.  It was how we had worked it out this year…it will NEVER be worked out in such a way again.  But that’s a whole other entry in and of itself.

I haven’t been around my house much lately.  My brother is in town and I have shit feces to do.  And when I’ve been here I’ve used the bathroom upstairs.  Today was the first time I had a chance to survey the damage he may or may not have done to the downstairs one.  Now…he told me he now cleans up after himself. 

Hopeful, right? 

Right?

No.

I went in there…and there is piss urine all over the back of the toilet as well as the BACK of the floor.  I don’t get it.  I was thinking to myself…what the fuck intercourse…does he just walk in the bathroom and call it good enough? 

Because I’m thinking that’s what happens.

And mom…I tried to clean up my language…seriously…I tried.  Did you see my little strikethroughs?  It’s an attempt anyways?  I’m evil…what can I say.

Captain Oblivious is a creeper.

Part of it is my fault.  But still…he be a creeper…no way around it.

I had taken away his key…and then gave it back a little while ago…because the children got locked out of my house once when he had them…and it upset them.  See…I’m a sucker when it comes to my kids.  The deal was…it was only for emergency kid locked out purposes.

There was a bad ice storm here this past Thursday.  I lost power (as did most of the city) in the wee hours of Friday morning.  Which meant no heat.  So I went to crash at my mom’s house.  For whatever reason she had power…even though her neighborhood was way harder hit than mine.  Captain O also had no heat/electricity in the city where he lives.

My mom made me call him and extend the offer that he could stay at her house as well for the night…as he had no place to go.  He basically said something along the lines of…no way in hell.  Whatever asshole.

Saturday morning the kids wanted to call him…so I phoned him up.  I asked how cold his house was…and he said…hold onto your hat…I mean it…hold the fuck on…

I DON’T KNOW…I STAYED AT YOURS.

What??????????????  First of all…you didn’t ask.  Second of all…if you were going to stay at a place with no heat…stay at your own stupid house.

We didn’t have alot of time to go over this issue…I was watching 4 kids…and I will not get into ugly fights with him in front of my kids.

I get home at 10 last night.  I finally have heat.  It felt so good to be home…and like I had been away for a million years.  I go upstairs to put the kids to bed…I go in my room. 

Quite obviously he had slept in my bed.  Let’s rewind that and say it again…

HE SLEPT IN MY BED.

Not only did he come in my house without permission…he brought his own pillows and deliberately slept in my bed.  Not on the couch…not in either of the kids beds… in . my . bed .

We’ll go over the conversation later that followed…because by then the kids were asleep and we could have the conversation…and it was interesting to say the least.  He has no idea why I’m having a problem with that.

Let’s just say I did not sleep in that bed last night.  Not until I can wash everything.  How do I have any guarantee that he had underwear on.  Someone like that would probably enjoy spreading their dirty butt crumbs in someone else’s bed.

Not only am I getting the key back…I’m having the locks changed.

Warning…hostility ahead.  Just sayin’…

Divorce and civil just shouldn’t be in the same sentence.  Especially if you have to say something like…my exes name is Captain Oblivious.  Because really…anyone with the name Captain O (and ha!  let’s just face it…it ain’t THAT O) cannot carry on in grown-up proceedings.

Since seperating from the Captain…I have felt I have been on good behavior.  He still insists on coming to the same church..therefore when people ask me why or what happened.  I’m vague with details.  Even though I’d like to give them the list…I tend not to discuss it other than the fact that I’m happy and it’s what I want.  Let’s also just say that NO ONE has ever assumed that he left me…or he wanted out.  Because come on…that’s just ludicrious.  Really.  Most of them probably just assumed that I got tired of puking in my mouth a little every morning when I woke up.

I invited him over to my house for brunch on Thanksgiving…because it felt the right thing to do for the kids.  And my parents had him come over for the rest of the day…again with the right thing to do…and he had no where else to go. 

I went to his house to help him clean and organize.  Not because I wanted to…but because my therapist told me it would be disturbing for my children to think about him living there in squalor.  I’ve reminded him to take his medicine.  Oh.  Wait.  He even thanked me for that one.  If you call screaming at someone that they are a FUCKING BITCH and then storming off a thank you…then yes…he showed his thankfulness then.

I make sure the kids call and tell him good night.  I don’t speak badly about him to them.  Even when he puts them to bed 2 hours late and makes them too tired for school.

I’m not a martyr by any means.  But I think I’ve done well…especially since…well…considering it’s me.

Until today.

I spoke to him for a short amount of time.  Trying to figure out if he was doing okay.  I nicely asked that the kids be in bed by bedtime…sleeping on school nights…and not out at the laundry mat because he ran out of undies (this is due to his laziness and lack of counting abilities).  I’m not even going to get into the whole conversation.  Okay…maybe a little more.  I told him I was concerned because he is showing up (on work days) obviously unshowered…hair all scruffy…unshaved.  He works in sales.  I spoke my concern about him going downhill and working a job that is currently paying just about nothing.  Literally.  Commission only…no selling = no money.  Again…let’s go over the bad with math thing.

At some point he started screaming at me.  It’s not the first time he’s blown up like that…there have been plenty of times during the past 11 years.  More than I’m going to think about now.  And he made it clear that his intention is to fuck me over…and if the kids get in the way of that…then oh well…I chose this. 

Yes…I did choose this.  And I’m happy.  Because I will not sit here for one more minute and let another person speak to me or treat me that way.

This still isn’t the whole list…but let’s go over some reasons why I could not be married to him for   one . more . minute (maybe I’ll forward these on to my ex-SIL and she can tell me what the bible says about this):

1.  In the past 11 years there have been 18 job changes.  Alot of these have been firings…and/or leaving right before someone can say…you’re fired.

2.  While he has been gone from the house for alot of hours (and likes to say…I work alot of hours for my family) this is untrue.  Napping at your desk…sneaking out to your car for a nap…drinking so much prune and tomato juice that you literally shit a brick in the bathroom for a whole day…and playing on facebook to the point of getting fired do not constitute “work”.  Although I’m sure the janitor had to work hard to rectify the bathroom after he was done with it.  I mean…I feel for the guy…been there…done that.

3.  He took me to Starbucks for our 10th anniversary.  It gets worse…hold onto your hat.  With a gift card my mom gave us.  No flowers.  No nothing.  He was supposedly saving to take me somewhere…but then spent it.  On what he wasn’t sure.  But I think lottery tickets were involved.

4.  He is a big freaking child who cannot and/or will not clean up after himself.

5.  He pissed all over my bathroom.  Since he’s been gone I clean it at my own leisure for the fun of it.  The things that happened in there before that…just shouldn’t happen…EVER.

6.  He refuses to shave for days at a time even though he has bald spots in his moustache and chin area.  Plus the hairs all grow in different directions.  It brings nasty to a whole new level.

7.  He is a miserable person to be around.  When I say he killed a little piece of my soul every day…I’m not kidding.

Okay…I’m stopping now.  I’m just getting more upset.  And I have like a million more things to add to the list.

Yeah…so I’m pretty pissed.  No way to wrap this up.  Must stop writing this entry now.  Backing away slowly…

From the outlaw front.  This is the status on Captain Oblivious’ sisters page.  Got that?  My ex-SIL.

*Psycho crazy lady* is thankful for marriage…because God gives so much grace and mercy when I CHOOSE to do what’s right even when I don’t FEEL like it!

Really?

REALLY?

Let me just tell you something.  This grace and mercy stuff is good…but don’t you think god also has a sense of humor?

I mean…you HAVE *seen* your brother, right?

The kids and I were leaving my parents house a little late last night.  They (the kids not my ‘rents) were being crazy and giving me a hard time.  I finally had them stuffed into their jackets, shoes, hats and gloves.

Zak was wearing a hat that one of the outlaws gave him at some point.  It says U S A on it.

So my mom was giving him a mini-lecture about not giving me a hard time…and trying to behave…and she says…see your hat says…

U Sweet Adorable (I think she added another word…but it escapes me)

So…we were having fun with it…making up new words.

Then my mom says…U Smelly Armpit.  This of course made the kids go wild with laughter.  Not to be outdone Zak says.

U Smelly Asshole.

WHAT? 

Yes…I have a potty mouth…but not in front of my kids…NEVER in front of my kids.

Okay…maybe I heard him wrong…so I asked him over.  This time he said…U Smelly Butt.  Okay…not only do I know for a fact he said asshole now the first time…he also knows what it means.

My mom tries to give him the benefit of the doubt…thinking that we just misunderstood.  So I ask him what he said the first time and he says…

U Smelly Asshole.

It was hard to have the teaching moment because I was trying to stifle back my laughter.  And my mom was no help…she had to turn around and chuckle. 

“Zak…where did you hear that word?”  Hoping it wasn’t from me…hoping it wasn’t from me.

“Destiny”…the child…not the concept.

“Okay…well…we don’t say those words”…and by we I mean you…because when you are on your little overnights…I say them. 

Yeah…Destiny…wherever you are this morning…perhaps snuggled down into your little bed somewhere…sleeping peacefully like the rest of the 3rd grade world…I have to say thanks…thanks alot.  Oh…and thanks to your parents…they are obviously doing such a wonderful job with you.

But mostly…I have a hat here for you.  Only in your case…it stands for…

U Suck Asshole.