She Hate Me
This weekend was quite eventful. Friday, I went to the Sweetwater concert and danced myself silly. I recommend it to everyone within the sound of my voice or viewing this page. My only complaint, I would have loved for Jill Scott and Erika Badu to perform a little longer. All of the ladies did a wonderful job and the crew was good at moving the show along.
Saturday, we moved. I swear, at the risk of sounding racist, prejudice, self-hating or otherwise, next time I hire a moving company I’m requesting Mexican workers. Brothas want to holla and be up in your business one minute and then complain about the flights of stairs the next, instead of just doing their jobs. One of the guys was clearly overweight and trust to want to be smoking cigarettes, all the while telling me I need to stay off of the third floor. Naw, bruh you need to lay off those damn cancer sticks and the KFC and maybe you could carry the furniture and the boxes without feeling like you are going to pass out.
Sunday, I went to pick up my older children in Alabama. They were with their father (Ex-fiance not to be confused with BD) after the woman who had them called me telling me she wanted to go out Saturday and “we” needed to come up with something. I called their dad and told him to go get them. He was happy to have them and they were happy to be there. When I got there I made sure to watch myself while I was there. I asked to go to the bathroom. I asked to go into the kitchen, etc. Of course he looked at me like I was crazy because he isn’t use to me behaving like that, but I’m trying to implement the suggestions I have been given.
I met his girlfriend/babysitter and new baby momma (#4). (The other summer when the kids were there he swore she was just the babysitter.) Their baby is 5 months old and very cute and chunky. About 30 minutes later, baby momma number 3 showed up with her children. I was surprised to see her, but I got up and gave her a hug and we greeted each other like old friends; me and her got history. It was like a scene out of a movie. Baby momma numbers 1, 3 and 4 and all of our children there, at his place, with all of our children running around and playing together. Just so the readers can picture this:
I (Number 1 aka Dr. Evil per number 3) have 3 children, 2 of which are his. I have his oldest child and until recently I had his youngest child.
Number 3 also has three children, only one of which is his. She has his other son.
Number 4, who lives with him, has his baby girl.
There we are, sitting in the living room laughing at the situation. I know I was tickled to death at how it all fell out like that. He was nervous as hell and had the nerve to tell me to behave myself, like as if I was going to do anything. I have long since been over him. He is #4’s problem not mine, and I think me and #3 realized after the fact that the situation may not have been as funny to her as it was to us.
Number 3 filled Number 4 in on a little bit of our past history. We traded stories about our interactions with Nana Pat. Unfortunately, none of us has had a good relationship with our children’s grandmother, #3 hasn’t even met her. I commented on how the day would have been complete if #2 and her kid showed up, but other than that I kept the comments to a minimum and let #3 have at it. At one point he did come in and point to a poster on the wall. Apparently, it’s the cover for his yet to be completed spoken word album. Isn’t that wonderful. I told him to go ahead and let the producers or whomever know that they can make the check out to me to cover his back child support owed. Number 3 chimed in that it would have to be split across families; yeah ok, but you might want to go get your court order first.
So after about an hour of watching him squirm and walk in and out of his own home to avoid some fall out he had pictured in his head, I was able to tear my kids away from playing and be on our way home. He walked the kids down to the car and tried to sneak a peak before I pulled off. I let him know he had two waiting on him upstairs that he could be on, but this shop was closed to his advances. That’s when he starts singing, “but I only have eyes for you”. He is a straight mess and always will be.
One of my girlfriend’s commented on how I always end up in “situations”. That one was definitely not one I would have ever planned out ahead of time.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Is That a Compliment or What?!
I just received a reply email (she will probably kill me, but I had to post it):
"Leave me alone -- Since Young and the Restless and Bold & the Beautiful have gone off for the day I'm busy reading Eva's revenge. :-)"
Where's my Day Time Emmy nomination?
"Leave me alone -- Since Young and the Restless and Bold & the Beautiful have gone off for the day I'm busy reading Eva's revenge. :-)"
Where's my Day Time Emmy nomination?
I Have No One to Blame But Myself
About 9 years ago I attended a counseling group session for women with disabilities. I'm not disabled, but a friend I had then was and she asked me to come along with her. At the time, I had just started learning some truths about the person I was dating and I was out of work and living off of credit cards. So I figured I could go find myself some support in the process of supporting her at this group.
The first thing that struck me as I listened to each of the women's stories was how their relationships with men kept them down more so than their disabilities. It was a little unnerving for me because all of these women were at least 15 to 20 years older than me. I can remember thinking, "It doesn't get any better with age?" Eventually, all eyes were on me and the group facilitator was asking me to tell my story, which I did. And then came the profound question of the hour. Mr. Psychiatrist asked me why I (we) was so willing to give up my trust to a complete stranger rather than making him earn it. I replied with some answer about giving people the benefit of the doubt, yada, yada, yada. When he continued to press me, I really didn't have an answer and I just sat there staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
I hadn't even remembered that day until this weekend. I was in the shower going over in my head the argument that spanned Friday evening and part of Saturday morning with BD that ended in him telling me (us) to have a nice life because he was done. I was past done and had said anything and everything about his fake ass marriage to his part-time fatherhood, that came to me and I had been holding in over these past few years.
I have to admit, it felt good to know I still had my gift for leaving my opponent curled up in the fetal position mentally (and sometimes physically) without ever laying a hand on him/her.
It felt even better letting him know that I know his secrets, those deep seeded secrets that he even tries to hide from himself 1) he's not perfect and 2) although he knows on an intellectual level the right things to do for family, community, etc. he doesn't know it at his spiritual core hence the two faces of HE.
But I digress from my original story...
I keep an ongoing journal. I started keeping one in junior high or high school as a way of working through situations and continued doing so because, hey, someone has to write my story and it needs to be as accurate as possible. (I would like to take this time to shout out My Girl, future author of MY STORY.) Anyway, recently I went back in my journal to the beginning of my relationship with BD and began reading to try and figure out what had gone so terribly wrong, aside from the obvious, and to figure out what the take home lessons were from this experience.
I discovered that shit was shaky from the beginning. Hindsight is indeed 20/20 because when you are close to a situation you really can't see the fault lines. I gave him chance upon chance "to make things right" even when he didn't deserve it. (I believe this may have been what Da Professa was talking about in his blog about single moms, but I would like to think it was just my nature not my motherhood that lead me to such behavior.)
I was doing in this 'relationship' what I had done in my relationship with my ex-fiancé, the very thing Mr. Psychiatrist had questioned me about. BD would provide a little truth mixed in with a lot of lies and I gobbled it up like a bag of plain Ruffles Potato Chips. He didn't even have to provide an excuse a lot of times for his questionable behavior because I had already filled in the blanks for him. It was like what R Kelly sings about in WOMAN, "Ya'll love us so much 'til our lies become the truth." There it is. I hadn't taken time to learn the lessons from the previous relationship, so I was doomed to repeat them in this one.
A girlfriend advised me that I need to go out and 'find another man to get over this man'. I think not. First of all, she's the last person that I would take advice from and secondly, that's what got me into this mess in the first place. No, I think I will continue to chill and see my part in the whole thing and continue my journey and hopefully come out a better person on the other side of the valley.
The first thing that struck me as I listened to each of the women's stories was how their relationships with men kept them down more so than their disabilities. It was a little unnerving for me because all of these women were at least 15 to 20 years older than me. I can remember thinking, "It doesn't get any better with age?" Eventually, all eyes were on me and the group facilitator was asking me to tell my story, which I did. And then came the profound question of the hour. Mr. Psychiatrist asked me why I (we) was so willing to give up my trust to a complete stranger rather than making him earn it. I replied with some answer about giving people the benefit of the doubt, yada, yada, yada. When he continued to press me, I really didn't have an answer and I just sat there staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
I hadn't even remembered that day until this weekend. I was in the shower going over in my head the argument that spanned Friday evening and part of Saturday morning with BD that ended in him telling me (us) to have a nice life because he was done. I was past done and had said anything and everything about his fake ass marriage to his part-time fatherhood, that came to me and I had been holding in over these past few years.
I have to admit, it felt good to know I still had my gift for leaving my opponent curled up in the fetal position mentally (and sometimes physically) without ever laying a hand on him/her.
It felt even better letting him know that I know his secrets, those deep seeded secrets that he even tries to hide from himself 1) he's not perfect and 2) although he knows on an intellectual level the right things to do for family, community, etc. he doesn't know it at his spiritual core hence the two faces of HE.
But I digress from my original story...
I keep an ongoing journal. I started keeping one in junior high or high school as a way of working through situations and continued doing so because, hey, someone has to write my story and it needs to be as accurate as possible. (I would like to take this time to shout out My Girl, future author of MY STORY.) Anyway, recently I went back in my journal to the beginning of my relationship with BD and began reading to try and figure out what had gone so terribly wrong, aside from the obvious, and to figure out what the take home lessons were from this experience.
I discovered that shit was shaky from the beginning. Hindsight is indeed 20/20 because when you are close to a situation you really can't see the fault lines. I gave him chance upon chance "to make things right" even when he didn't deserve it. (I believe this may have been what Da Professa was talking about in his blog about single moms, but I would like to think it was just my nature not my motherhood that lead me to such behavior.)
I was doing in this 'relationship' what I had done in my relationship with my ex-fiancé, the very thing Mr. Psychiatrist had questioned me about. BD would provide a little truth mixed in with a lot of lies and I gobbled it up like a bag of plain Ruffles Potato Chips. He didn't even have to provide an excuse a lot of times for his questionable behavior because I had already filled in the blanks for him. It was like what R Kelly sings about in WOMAN, "Ya'll love us so much 'til our lies become the truth." There it is. I hadn't taken time to learn the lessons from the previous relationship, so I was doomed to repeat them in this one.
A girlfriend advised me that I need to go out and 'find another man to get over this man'. I think not. First of all, she's the last person that I would take advice from and secondly, that's what got me into this mess in the first place. No, I think I will continue to chill and see my part in the whole thing and continue my journey and hopefully come out a better person on the other side of the valley.
Get Your Hand Out My Pockets
Hello great people! I have been gone too long so you know I have a lot to say. Right now though I have to keep it brief since I have a meeting to get to in about 26 minutes. Big brother said I couldn't cuss my sister so I have to get my frustration out here.
This B I gets the Oscar for "Ooh Darryl". She had the nerve to call me after 10pm last night and before she could say hello, how are you doing, how are the kids, this byatch screams into the phone "Where's my money?" Your who? Your what? This missing in action byatch (truly no pun intended here...she's in the service) wants to know why I haven't cut her check after selling the house. As has become my trade mark when dealing with these so-called family members, I give her vague answers and let her know that after waiting on their asses for 8 LONG years I'm not pressed about getting information or anything else out to them. Of course, she just dismisses that and starts yelling about who she's going to call to get some answers because "I need my money". To be fair, I will give everyone what they contributed over the eight years.
Let me pull out my record book...
Sheila, Sheila, Sheila, oh ok here we are...
Sheila's contribution in man labor to the upkeep of the house? 0 hours
Sheila's contribution to the well-being of her baby sister? $0.00, 0 hours
Sheila's contribution to the mortgage? $0.00
Sheila's contribution to the bills at the house? $0.00
Sheila's contribution to the estate expenses? $0.00
Sheila's take home from the sale of the house: $0.00
I ain't MasterCard Bitch!
Don't call me with no bullshit! I know how to change my number.
This B I gets the Oscar for "Ooh Darryl". She had the nerve to call me after 10pm last night and before she could say hello, how are you doing, how are the kids, this byatch screams into the phone "Where's my money?" Your who? Your what? This missing in action byatch (truly no pun intended here...she's in the service) wants to know why I haven't cut her check after selling the house. As has become my trade mark when dealing with these so-called family members, I give her vague answers and let her know that after waiting on their asses for 8 LONG years I'm not pressed about getting information or anything else out to them. Of course, she just dismisses that and starts yelling about who she's going to call to get some answers because "I need my money". To be fair, I will give everyone what they contributed over the eight years.
Let me pull out my record book...
Sheila, Sheila, Sheila, oh ok here we are...
Sheila's contribution in man labor to the upkeep of the house? 0 hours
Sheila's contribution to the well-being of her baby sister? $0.00, 0 hours
Sheila's contribution to the mortgage? $0.00
Sheila's contribution to the bills at the house? $0.00
Sheila's contribution to the estate expenses? $0.00
Sheila's take home from the sale of the house: $0.00
I ain't MasterCard Bitch!
Don't call me with no bullshit! I know how to change my number.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Must Be Nice
Hello great people. I have started a new study at work (leading to my escape from Debulon!!!) and the move from one side of town to the other is almost here! Add it all together and that means less computer time for me, not that I use the computer at home anyway, I just wanted to put that out there. Anywho, it all means I have less time to blog and read your blogs. I was suffering through the last two days. I even had someone go to my comments and read them for me. Sad, sad I know, but I'm hooked. This from the girl that fought tooth and nail back in the day to save my typewriter. "I don't need no stinking computer!" All seems like another lifetime right about now.
*****************************
A friend of mine sent me an IM that he and his woman would be having (clears throat, no pun intended) fun tonight. I HATE YOU PEOPLE WITH AT HOME PU$$Y and D*CK. It must be nice to know you going home to something or to roll over to something! That’s ok, I have my chocolate, my Absolute and whatever, my Dynamic Booty V video and an array of toys. I’ll be having fun too dammit.
*****************************
But anyway, Da Professa (see link in the sidebar, yes it’s lazy, but it’s lazy of you to think I have to do everything for you) asked a question of folks (in general, right?) to take a look at themselves in the mirror. I really appreciated that posting because there was a time when I couldn’t do that and when I did, I wasn’t happy with what I saw. NOW, I’m finally shaking off the “victim” layer, I’m coming out from an 8 year cloud of grief and I’m embracing adulthood and taking a good long look at my finances and making some adjustments. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of me. I’m modeling good behaviors for my children and I’m conquering issues (puberty, sex, money, etc.) that are normally taboo in the family, particularly the black family. I don’t want my children starting out behind the eight ball. I love my mother and I know she did what she knew best to do and now, I’m building on the foundation she laid for us. My father taught us a thing or two as well, and I have finally come to closure and forgiveness where he's concerned. I can even embrace those parts of me that are him. When I look in the mirror these days, I love what I see (I’m learning to love my booty) and it feels good.
*****************************
A friend of mine sent me an IM that he and his woman would be having (clears throat, no pun intended) fun tonight. I HATE YOU PEOPLE WITH AT HOME PU$$Y and D*CK. It must be nice to know you going home to something or to roll over to something! That’s ok, I have my chocolate, my Absolute and whatever, my Dynamic Booty V video and an array of toys. I’ll be having fun too dammit.
*****************************
But anyway, Da Professa (see link in the sidebar, yes it’s lazy, but it’s lazy of you to think I have to do everything for you) asked a question of folks (in general, right?) to take a look at themselves in the mirror. I really appreciated that posting because there was a time when I couldn’t do that and when I did, I wasn’t happy with what I saw. NOW, I’m finally shaking off the “victim” layer, I’m coming out from an 8 year cloud of grief and I’m embracing adulthood and taking a good long look at my finances and making some adjustments. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off of me. I’m modeling good behaviors for my children and I’m conquering issues (puberty, sex, money, etc.) that are normally taboo in the family, particularly the black family. I don’t want my children starting out behind the eight ball. I love my mother and I know she did what she knew best to do and now, I’m building on the foundation she laid for us. My father taught us a thing or two as well, and I have finally come to closure and forgiveness where he's concerned. I can even embrace those parts of me that are him. When I look in the mirror these days, I love what I see (I’m learning to love my booty) and it feels good.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
You Can’t Please Everyone
I am giving you fair warning, this blog is all over the place just like my thoughts.
I called around yesterday checking on family and friends who had the unfortunate pleasure of being in the path of Dennis. Everyone was relatively ok. One friend had a tree come through her den, but she was taking it all in stride. The last call I made to my uncle and his family. They live about an hour away and are on the GA/AL line. Turns out the other family members I couldn’t reach (including the sister that was suppose to have my kids this summer) had been hiding out at their house to escape the wind and rain in lower AL. They had been there since Friday and yet no one picked up the phone to call. I don’t know why it surprises me, they don’t call any other time, they don’t send invitations to weddings (and then get mad when you don’t show, I guess I’m psychic) and they don’t give you information about family gatherings until the last minute. Let me step back, I can’t lump my uncle into that because he has invited us to several events, unfortunately the last two I was unable to attend.
We were once a tight knit family, or so I thought. Then my mom died and people started seeing dollar signs and pirate’s hidden treasures and it all changed. Without really getting into all the ridiculous details, people’s feelings were hurt and things went said but not to the right people and eight years later, there’s a strain. That thought I was having of my feelings being overlooked and what not, it was here, in this place, in this family. Although none of my older siblings (with the exception of Big Brother) stepped up to the plate to handle business after our mother’s death, they all have their hands out now that I’m finally able to close the estate. Every time I speak to someone in my family the conversation always goes back to, “Have you sold the house yet? How much did you get?” None of your gosh darn business muffukkers!!!! I spent the last 7 years struggling and sacrificing for the cause not you. *Sigh* I need to go back to my little island and let them be them.
***********************************
I received some comments on yesterday’s blog that have caused me to think, must be why my head is hurting now. Ya’ll know I don’t like to use the brain power if I don’t have to; I come to work to relax! I have to take a step back out of Eva’s reality play world and realize that everyone doesn’t see things the way I do because we all come from different backgrounds and have had different experiences and influences. SO just because Eva sees the day when we (me, BD and Wifey) can all come together and hold hands all the while singing Negro Spirituals doesn’t mean that’s going to happen. So, I will go back to analyzing the data so that the results show some other reality, collect more data and synthesize that into something we can all live with happily ever after.
************************************
Some of the most judgmental people are the one’s who think they are the least judgmental. You know who they are. They are your friend and mine. They offer advice tempered with little insults on your imperfect character, never taking time to notice how you’ve grown. They base their comments on the IMAGE of You that they have formed in their own head. Protest all you want, but it will do no good. You can’t tell them who you are. You can’t show them who you are. They know you better than you know yourself. It’s a dead end conversation; just let them have their say and then change the subject.
I called around yesterday checking on family and friends who had the unfortunate pleasure of being in the path of Dennis. Everyone was relatively ok. One friend had a tree come through her den, but she was taking it all in stride. The last call I made to my uncle and his family. They live about an hour away and are on the GA/AL line. Turns out the other family members I couldn’t reach (including the sister that was suppose to have my kids this summer) had been hiding out at their house to escape the wind and rain in lower AL. They had been there since Friday and yet no one picked up the phone to call. I don’t know why it surprises me, they don’t call any other time, they don’t send invitations to weddings (and then get mad when you don’t show, I guess I’m psychic) and they don’t give you information about family gatherings until the last minute. Let me step back, I can’t lump my uncle into that because he has invited us to several events, unfortunately the last two I was unable to attend.
We were once a tight knit family, or so I thought. Then my mom died and people started seeing dollar signs and pirate’s hidden treasures and it all changed. Without really getting into all the ridiculous details, people’s feelings were hurt and things went said but not to the right people and eight years later, there’s a strain. That thought I was having of my feelings being overlooked and what not, it was here, in this place, in this family. Although none of my older siblings (with the exception of Big Brother) stepped up to the plate to handle business after our mother’s death, they all have their hands out now that I’m finally able to close the estate. Every time I speak to someone in my family the conversation always goes back to, “Have you sold the house yet? How much did you get?” None of your gosh darn business muffukkers!!!! I spent the last 7 years struggling and sacrificing for the cause not you. *Sigh* I need to go back to my little island and let them be them.
***********************************
I received some comments on yesterday’s blog that have caused me to think, must be why my head is hurting now. Ya’ll know I don’t like to use the brain power if I don’t have to; I come to work to relax! I have to take a step back out of Eva’s reality play world and realize that everyone doesn’t see things the way I do because we all come from different backgrounds and have had different experiences and influences. SO just because Eva sees the day when we (me, BD and Wifey) can all come together and hold hands all the while singing Negro Spirituals doesn’t mean that’s going to happen. So, I will go back to analyzing the data so that the results show some other reality, collect more data and synthesize that into something we can all live with happily ever after.
************************************
Some of the most judgmental people are the one’s who think they are the least judgmental. You know who they are. They are your friend and mine. They offer advice tempered with little insults on your imperfect character, never taking time to notice how you’ve grown. They base their comments on the IMAGE of You that they have formed in their own head. Protest all you want, but it will do no good. You can’t tell them who you are. You can’t show them who you are. They know you better than you know yourself. It’s a dead end conversation; just let them have their say and then change the subject.
Monday, July 11, 2005
Friends After Lovers
So BD came over this weekend so we could discuss what transpired last weekend. OK. I tried really hard to check myself before he got there. I put the “evil bitch” in my pocket, but it wasn’t long before she took over. (That damn purple people eater.) It seems like the more I talk to him, the more I’m confused by him. When we first met all he could talk about was family and how involved he was with his and how much he wanted a family. I’m not sure he understands what that is. When I told him that his mother had asked why I wasn’t attending the reunion even when he didn’t have sense enough to invite me, his reply was that his mother had no place to invite me because she too was a guest. WTF I had to let him know that given his reasoning, then he too should be considered a “guest”. He tried to clean it up and give his explanations, (something about his wife being there, the family happy to see her surprised to see Ayan had returned, extra surprised that they were there together, fukkers) but I had to cut him short and let him know that I was more upset about being shoved aside and him not having this conversation with me before now, before last Friday.
Funny how once you break shit down for muffukkers, it takes the steam out of their argument. There was actually a moment when we were both on the same page. Eureka! By George I think he's got it!
And then he begins to speak some more.
Apparently, he corrected his wife and sister because he thought they hadn’t spoken to me when I came into the house on Saturday. (They had, but he missed it…I knew something was up when his sis came back to speak.) Well, Wifey didn’t appreciate that, particularly since she felt I needed some correcting of my own. You see, it seems that they “both” consider the house to still be her home except that when she comes to visit she doesn’t roam, she stays in whatever room he is lounging in at the time. I didn’t do that Saturday and neither did my kids. We are so comfortable being there that we just go where ever without asking permission. But it really pissed her off that we just walked in without ringing the doorbell. (Now whether my kids rang the doorbell or not I really can’t say as I am usually the last one to hit the door because I’m always stuck getting the junk out of the car.) He says he told her that the kids are use to coming in and out as they please and that she was being petty. (Yeah, right.) He tried to attribute it to “women being territorial”. I was disgusted.
I’ve been here before, but I just couldn’t place it. My feelings being overlooked, another person’s being justified where have I felt this before…
The conversation switched to him talking about all of us getting along especially in light of the fact that they have talked about getting back together and he knows she wants to come home, but she’s hesitant for a lot of reasons. (Why does he always speak in terms of what the other person wants? What about what he wants? Is he afraid of hurting my feelings? Is he trying to leave the door open as a just in case? Stop being so passive-aggressive negro and say what you want...Hmmm, I'm not bothered by them getting back together. I guess that's progress.)
He’s rambling about his stepmother and her foolishness. (What does that have to do with us, unless you think one of us will respond to the situation like that?) He’s trying to use that situation to explain why he was uncomfortable with me being around last weekend. Ok, I have to break it down for him again. First of all, I didn’t ask for an invitation to their marriage, I was thrown into it. Second, his family is going to follow his lead and if he treats me like an outsider that’s how they are going to treat me. And last, if I go, my baby goes. He didn’t plant his seed in the ground and she didn’t spring up from the earth. She has a mother and one who refuses to sit in the background and pretend not to exist. I’m more than willing to make this as comfortable a situation as possible. (Anybody seen She Hate Me, I can get with that, but it takes a special man to make it work.) And all of that aside, with me and my friends, their house is my house and my house is their house. We don’t “ask permission” to walk around, and if you did, that would be an insult.
Now my faithful four, (I don’t know, there could be more of you that read this blog, but only 4 that comment) I need your comments. As I was sitting on my high horse and watching “Diary of a Mad Black Woman”, getting angry at how the “other woman” just came in like she was at home, the thought occurred to me, Is that how I was acting on Saturday? I didn’t think so, but maybe she perceived it to be that way. I don’t know, but I agreed to temper my movements whenever she was around (as I was thinking I just won’t come back over to your friggin house. I got my own place to roam, dammit!). But does she have something there?
My other issue is this whole thing of being “just friends”. I thought we had been working on that these last five months (after I got over my feelings of wanting to hurt him). He’s not sure, again. We have always had sex come up at some point, but I’m getting better at being “disciplined” not to mention, this enlightenment period has pushed my sexual addiction to a lower status on the radar, right below my ice cream addiction. So I’m sincerely trying to make this parenting partnership work and I was willing to establish a relationship with Wifey, but I suppose I have to be patient on that one. I tend to want things right when I want it. According to him, she doesn’t want to “share” him with us. (It’s not like he’s going to be sleeping in my bed and then sleeping in hers…at least not now.) One of my aunts and My Girl told me that I have to go in order for them to reestablish their marriage. Ok, but again, if I go, so does Ayan.
Funny how once you break shit down for muffukkers, it takes the steam out of their argument. There was actually a moment when we were both on the same page. Eureka! By George I think he's got it!
And then he begins to speak some more.
Apparently, he corrected his wife and sister because he thought they hadn’t spoken to me when I came into the house on Saturday. (They had, but he missed it…I knew something was up when his sis came back to speak.) Well, Wifey didn’t appreciate that, particularly since she felt I needed some correcting of my own. You see, it seems that they “both” consider the house to still be her home except that when she comes to visit she doesn’t roam, she stays in whatever room he is lounging in at the time. I didn’t do that Saturday and neither did my kids. We are so comfortable being there that we just go where ever without asking permission. But it really pissed her off that we just walked in without ringing the doorbell. (Now whether my kids rang the doorbell or not I really can’t say as I am usually the last one to hit the door because I’m always stuck getting the junk out of the car.) He says he told her that the kids are use to coming in and out as they please and that she was being petty. (Yeah, right.) He tried to attribute it to “women being territorial”. I was disgusted.
I’ve been here before, but I just couldn’t place it. My feelings being overlooked, another person’s being justified where have I felt this before…
The conversation switched to him talking about all of us getting along especially in light of the fact that they have talked about getting back together and he knows she wants to come home, but she’s hesitant for a lot of reasons. (Why does he always speak in terms of what the other person wants? What about what he wants? Is he afraid of hurting my feelings? Is he trying to leave the door open as a just in case? Stop being so passive-aggressive negro and say what you want...Hmmm, I'm not bothered by them getting back together. I guess that's progress.)
He’s rambling about his stepmother and her foolishness. (What does that have to do with us, unless you think one of us will respond to the situation like that?) He’s trying to use that situation to explain why he was uncomfortable with me being around last weekend. Ok, I have to break it down for him again. First of all, I didn’t ask for an invitation to their marriage, I was thrown into it. Second, his family is going to follow his lead and if he treats me like an outsider that’s how they are going to treat me. And last, if I go, my baby goes. He didn’t plant his seed in the ground and she didn’t spring up from the earth. She has a mother and one who refuses to sit in the background and pretend not to exist. I’m more than willing to make this as comfortable a situation as possible. (Anybody seen She Hate Me, I can get with that, but it takes a special man to make it work.) And all of that aside, with me and my friends, their house is my house and my house is their house. We don’t “ask permission” to walk around, and if you did, that would be an insult.
Now my faithful four, (I don’t know, there could be more of you that read this blog, but only 4 that comment) I need your comments. As I was sitting on my high horse and watching “Diary of a Mad Black Woman”, getting angry at how the “other woman” just came in like she was at home, the thought occurred to me, Is that how I was acting on Saturday? I didn’t think so, but maybe she perceived it to be that way. I don’t know, but I agreed to temper my movements whenever she was around (as I was thinking I just won’t come back over to your friggin house. I got my own place to roam, dammit!). But does she have something there?
My other issue is this whole thing of being “just friends”. I thought we had been working on that these last five months (after I got over my feelings of wanting to hurt him). He’s not sure, again. We have always had sex come up at some point, but I’m getting better at being “disciplined” not to mention, this enlightenment period has pushed my sexual addiction to a lower status on the radar, right below my ice cream addiction. So I’m sincerely trying to make this parenting partnership work and I was willing to establish a relationship with Wifey, but I suppose I have to be patient on that one. I tend to want things right when I want it. According to him, she doesn’t want to “share” him with us. (It’s not like he’s going to be sleeping in my bed and then sleeping in hers…at least not now.) One of my aunts and My Girl told me that I have to go in order for them to reestablish their marriage. Ok, but again, if I go, so does Ayan.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
She Got Kids
I was talking to a male friend a few weeks ago about the ever continuing insanity that is my relationship with my baby daddy. While trying to be supportive, this friend makes the statement that he (baby daddy) should have been more responsible when dating me because as a single mom I'm more vulnerable. EXCUSE ME!?! He tried to explain his way out of that one, but the damage was done. I was quite offended. Since when did being a single mother make me "vulnerable"? If anything it has taught me more about what I can accomplish on my own, what type of mate I can/want to be and what I want in a relationship.
I could see if he had said something to the effect of BD should have been more responsible in dealing with my children. That would have made more sense to me. I make it clear to people that I date, that they are dating me and not my children. If the relationship becomes serious, I will eventually introduce them, however, my children have parents, and therefore I am not looking for any replacements. If you make it to the point of being introduced to the children, then their feelings have to be considered and boundaries established so as to spare them any undue harm. BD interacted with my children, even babysat for me when I had to work late. They grew to love him and looked forward to seeing him. My son at one point asked me to work late so they could spend time together. (Or it could have been a ploy to play X-Box. It's all the same to him.) And of course, I had a child with him. That's where things got really muddy and ugly. He didn't want to spend time with the kids any more and didn't feel it was his "responsibility" to watch them for me. Funny, because it was all good when you were pretending to be single and you were hitting that. I guess he must have been having a moment, because he does watch them on occasion and he has invited my son to RoP, something I'm not so convinced is the right thing to do. You really have to be careful about who is modeling "manhood" for your man-child. But that's a whole 'nother subject.
I use to be the type that my male friends would always say things like, "I can't wait for the day when some man tames your ass". When did I become the one they take pity on?
I could see if he had said something to the effect of BD should have been more responsible in dealing with my children. That would have made more sense to me. I make it clear to people that I date, that they are dating me and not my children. If the relationship becomes serious, I will eventually introduce them, however, my children have parents, and therefore I am not looking for any replacements. If you make it to the point of being introduced to the children, then their feelings have to be considered and boundaries established so as to spare them any undue harm. BD interacted with my children, even babysat for me when I had to work late. They grew to love him and looked forward to seeing him. My son at one point asked me to work late so they could spend time together. (Or it could have been a ploy to play X-Box. It's all the same to him.) And of course, I had a child with him. That's where things got really muddy and ugly. He didn't want to spend time with the kids any more and didn't feel it was his "responsibility" to watch them for me. Funny, because it was all good when you were pretending to be single and you were hitting that. I guess he must have been having a moment, because he does watch them on occasion and he has invited my son to RoP, something I'm not so convinced is the right thing to do. You really have to be careful about who is modeling "manhood" for your man-child. But that's a whole 'nother subject.
I use to be the type that my male friends would always say things like, "I can't wait for the day when some man tames your ass". When did I become the one they take pity on?
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
People Really Need to Check Themselves
LMAO
I'm a planner. I have to know what I'm doing the week before, the month before, etc. Not that I can't be spontaneous, but the important things need to be planned. (Hell, I am now planning a reunion that is to take place in 2007.) I started looking for someone to keep my older two this month back in April. I had two people who said they wanted them for the summer. Cool, we set... or are we?
May rolls around and my primary arrangement tells me that she wants the kids as soon as we come back from the family reunion in late June. Ok, cool. That will give me more time to pack and be ready ahead of time for the move date.
June gets here and it’s the week before the reunion and my primary is telling me to hold off on bringing the kids because she’s made plans to go see her sister. Ok, I’ll just call when we get back and we can arrange something then. In the meantime, I call my backup, one of my sisters, and she is still hemming and hawing about getting them for the summer, but she does let me know that should anything happen to me she wants custody of all three. Oh, ok. Isn’t that so very sweet of her. RIGHT. I guess I better go back and tell the day care they will be here after all. Dammit, they want $200/week just for the two. That’s a big jump from what I was paying during the school year. And WTH is an “Activity Fee” and why does it have to be paid every week?!? I just roll my eyes to heaven and take it all in. It’s all good, we can handle this.
It is now July and I have resigned myself to the idea of having the children with me the entire summer. I will just work on sending them somewhere for the week of the move, because while I like to plan ahead, packing is a whole ‘nother story. Then I get a call at almost midnight last night from the primary. She wants me to drive the kids to AL this week so she can take them to her home town. LOL, hmmm. Well, this has caught me off guard. I haven’t spoken to her in 2 or 3 weeks. I politely let her know that the kids have some things they need to do to get ready for their new school and once we have completed that I will give her a call. You know she gets an “Ooh Darryl”, but I love her to pieces, and I’m too thrilled to have somewhere for them to go!
On another note, I get to the day care yesterday and I’m handed a returned check. It’s not mine, it’s BD2’s. He pays the third day care bill. So I ask the manager if they have called him. Of course not, they want me to relay the message. I’m not about to do that, they need to handle their business like business owners and call him to discuss the matter. She’s my child, but that’s his bill and his bank account. They both get an “Ooh Darryl”, the day care because they act like they are scared to talk to him, but if they want their money they better get over that right quick and fast and him, well, for the obvious.
I'm a planner. I have to know what I'm doing the week before, the month before, etc. Not that I can't be spontaneous, but the important things need to be planned. (Hell, I am now planning a reunion that is to take place in 2007.) I started looking for someone to keep my older two this month back in April. I had two people who said they wanted them for the summer. Cool, we set... or are we?
May rolls around and my primary arrangement tells me that she wants the kids as soon as we come back from the family reunion in late June. Ok, cool. That will give me more time to pack and be ready ahead of time for the move date.
June gets here and it’s the week before the reunion and my primary is telling me to hold off on bringing the kids because she’s made plans to go see her sister. Ok, I’ll just call when we get back and we can arrange something then. In the meantime, I call my backup, one of my sisters, and she is still hemming and hawing about getting them for the summer, but she does let me know that should anything happen to me she wants custody of all three. Oh, ok. Isn’t that so very sweet of her. RIGHT. I guess I better go back and tell the day care they will be here after all. Dammit, they want $200/week just for the two. That’s a big jump from what I was paying during the school year. And WTH is an “Activity Fee” and why does it have to be paid every week?!? I just roll my eyes to heaven and take it all in. It’s all good, we can handle this.
It is now July and I have resigned myself to the idea of having the children with me the entire summer. I will just work on sending them somewhere for the week of the move, because while I like to plan ahead, packing is a whole ‘nother story. Then I get a call at almost midnight last night from the primary. She wants me to drive the kids to AL this week so she can take them to her home town. LOL, hmmm. Well, this has caught me off guard. I haven’t spoken to her in 2 or 3 weeks. I politely let her know that the kids have some things they need to do to get ready for their new school and once we have completed that I will give her a call. You know she gets an “Ooh Darryl”, but I love her to pieces, and I’m too thrilled to have somewhere for them to go!
On another note, I get to the day care yesterday and I’m handed a returned check. It’s not mine, it’s BD2’s. He pays the third day care bill. So I ask the manager if they have called him. Of course not, they want me to relay the message. I’m not about to do that, they need to handle their business like business owners and call him to discuss the matter. She’s my child, but that’s his bill and his bank account. They both get an “Ooh Darryl”, the day care because they act like they are scared to talk to him, but if they want their money they better get over that right quick and fast and him, well, for the obvious.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
And Now...
I have received a call from BD2 letting me know that he is dropping my daughter off at day care. OK, I'm thinking why is this news, I mean besides the fact that is well after 12pm? It seems that once again he's picking and choosing when he wants to be a daddy. For months we have been discussing summer visitation. He wanted 4 weeks, I was only willing to give him 2 weeks. Eventually, I gave in to the 4 weeks, even had the lawyer change the paperwork against his counsel. BD2 and I decided that since his reunion kicked off July that would be the month Ayan would spend with him. Now, that July is here this negro has amnesia. He doesn't remember us agreeing on July and he hasn't "prepared" for her stay. But he does remember that I would not agree with her staying with him from May (when he wanted to pull her out of her present day care) until I moved at the end of this month. If you can't keep her for one month, how the hell would you have kept her for two?
I wish I could pick and choose the days I wanted to be a mommy:
I'm DONE. There's no winning here, so I'm just going to have to let that rolling stone roll.
I once read somewhere that the thing we try most not to be like, we become. Some of these "daddies" trying so hard not to be like theirs might want to take heed.
I wish I could pick and choose the days I wanted to be a mommy:
- Nope, sorry kiddies, you have to feed and clothe yourselves, Mommy doesn't feel like working.
- Uhm sorry, I'm not prepared for you this month, do you think you can find somewhere else to be?
- Gee, I'm such a busy person, I have no time for you child, can you go entertain yourself somewhere away from Mommy?
- I'm still in my prime and should be dating, I can't have children on my arm, not to mention carseats and diapers in my car tarnishing my rep. Here's some money for day care kiddies, I'll be back when I'm through being the PLAYA PLAYA and ready for someone to take care of my old ass.
I'm DONE. There's no winning here, so I'm just going to have to let that rolling stone roll.
I once read somewhere that the thing we try most not to be like, we become. Some of these "daddies" trying so hard not to be like theirs might want to take heed.
Family Reunion
I couldn’t wait to get back to work after the holiday weekend. As much as I hate this place I can find relief here from personal strife by burying myself in my work. What I thought would be a good weekend, turned shitty before I knew what was going on! BD2’s family reunion was in town this weekend. I’ve known about it, I’ve sat and broken bread with him and his family at the beginning of one of their planning meetings, and I was truly looking forward to meeting his mother and other family members. Maybe now I could get past the IMAGE and get a glimpse at who he truly is.
Friday afternoon I received no less than 3 phone calls tracking my whereabouts and ETA. Dang, can a sister get something to eat, maybe wash up the baby and make her all cute before taking her to see her grandmother. Mommas know how it is when you meeting the family for the first time. When we arrived he wasn’t there, but his mother, grandfather and sister (and her children) were so we (me and my children) chilled out, you know a little small talk, reviewed my family reunion pictures and just caught up on things. The kids were doing their own thing and when they got tired of being told not to run in the house, went outside to play. I greeted the neighbors and they asked if I could bring the kids back tomorrow so their daughter could play with my daughter. Sure I will, they need to play outside and not on that Playstation.
Fast forward to later that evening, BD2’s (step) dad, brother and brother-in-law come to visit. This is my first time meeting dad and he’s like a whirlwind, but kind of explains some of stepbrother’s quirkiness. BD2 doesn’t seem to fit into this crowd at all, makes me wonder what it would be like to see him interacting with his biological father. Would their mannerisms be more alike? Who knows, behavior is both nurtured and given to us by nature. As I’m going over these thoughts in my head, wifey shows up and says her hellos to everyone including me and my daughter; a bit of an awkward moment. Although she said we should keep in touch, that hasn’t happened. Dad pulls BD2 to the side to whisper some manly wisdom and then they get ready to leave. I go upstairs to check on my other two and find one on the computer and the other curled up on the floor. I know the little one is sleepy so I change her diaper and try to put her to sleep but she’s not hearing it. BD2 comes in and tells me that he hopes she falls asleep before I leave because he’s “gone” and he knows she will probably act up when I get ready to leave.
“Wait a minute, you’re gone? Where are you going?”
“To the hotel where everybody else is.”
I’m dumbfounded. How are you going to leave without making sure that your mother and daughter are taken care of for the night? And I don’t get an invitation? You just gonna leave me here? Ain’t this a bitch. I look out the window and notice that wifey’s car is still parked on the curb and realize why I’m banished to the house. As I’m trying to blow up the inflatable bed for mom I ask when will they be leaving and let her know I will do my best to come back before they leave. She wants to know why I’m not attending the family reunion. I let her know it’s because her son did not invite me. We continue chatting and I give up on trying to inflate the bed.
The rest of the weekend was pretty much the same. I spoke to his mother Saturday morning and she asked if I would take her to get her hair done. While not in my plans for the day, I said yes. I tell her I will be there in an hour and a half to take her. When I get there she’s not ready so I wait. Thirty minutes go by and she is no closer to being ready than when I first got there. About this time wifey comes walking in, so I let his mom know I have one more errand to run and I’ll be back to pick her up. An hour passes and we get back to the house. Mom is sleep and wifey is still there. Inside I’m screaming, but I’m a woman of my word so I wait while he tries to wake her. The kids take off across the street to play. Great, now if I want to leave there will be a scene. Wifey and his sister leave so I take the opportunity to do my daughter’s hair and finish getting her ready to go to the reunion. Once everyone is ready, we part and go our separate ways.
Anyone who knows me knows that I complain about having little to no help with my kids, but the minute they are out of my sight I’m missing them immensely. People close to me also know that normally, I do not let my children go anywhere without me before the age of two, but with this last one I have broken all of my rules. That’s why it pisses me off when BD2 goes to thumping his chest and tries to block me from seeing my own child! I gave him a courtesy call Sunday to let him know that I wanted to pick up my baby on Monday to go watch fireworks; not a problem he says, my sister and mom may even want to go. So why then when I call on Monday to let him know my planned arrival time am I met with such hostility? “My family is still here”… “why do you have to see her everyday of my family reunion?” The reunion was Friday-Sunday and it’s now Monday, get over it.
Words are exchanged. I remind him that I did call yesterday to make him aware of my plans. I also point out to him that any time he has any sort of extended visitation he pulls this shit and tries to block me from seeing my child. I let him know that he and wifey can play house all day long, but Ayan will always be MY child and that at this point visitation is a privilege, not a right, at least not until he signs the papers making it so. More words are exchanged and we end with me coming to get my child. A few minutes later I receive a call from his mother. I have been told on and the guilt card is being played. I reiterate to her everything I told her son (in a nicer way) and of course she tries to defend her child. I let her know that when they leave the emergency room with her father I will be more than happy to bring Ayan back so they can spend more time with her, but right now I’m on my way to see my child.
I don’t know why anything he does continues to amaze or upset me. This is the same man that lied about being married and then denied his child to cover up his indiscretions. Why I would think that just because my family views him as family and invites him to our events (too accepting) that he would do the same I will never know.
While we may chat everyday, see each other every week, and share a child I’m still just the bitch that had his baby and a spot on his perfect image.
Sure, some family members know me very well, but this is the reunion and everyone will be there so now he has to dust off wifey and pull her off the shelf to show a united front. Nevermind the fact that they have been living in separate homes for the last year and until I made the plea for her to call, she wouldn’t even return his mother’s phone calls. But perhaps she too had something to gain by showing up this weekend. If she was there then he couldn’t invite me. How would he explain it, this is my wife and this is my baby momma? I don’t know how much it would have bothered his family. They seem to be pretty accepting and loving people. I mean hell, this is his step-family and though step dad has been remarried for some years they still view his mom as family. But I guess I never made it to that level and he’s doing everything in his power to be sure that I don’t. Why? I suppose something in his warped sense of reality is telling him that keeping me separate will somehow lessen what he’s done. I will seem more like a surrogate than like an affair. And if my feelings get hurt in the meantime, well who cares. I’m an object anyway, a distraction, a sexual toy, a baby machine and babysitter.
OBJECTS DON’T HAVE FEELINGS… but wives do.
And so do I.
Friday afternoon I received no less than 3 phone calls tracking my whereabouts and ETA. Dang, can a sister get something to eat, maybe wash up the baby and make her all cute before taking her to see her grandmother. Mommas know how it is when you meeting the family for the first time. When we arrived he wasn’t there, but his mother, grandfather and sister (and her children) were so we (me and my children) chilled out, you know a little small talk, reviewed my family reunion pictures and just caught up on things. The kids were doing their own thing and when they got tired of being told not to run in the house, went outside to play. I greeted the neighbors and they asked if I could bring the kids back tomorrow so their daughter could play with my daughter. Sure I will, they need to play outside and not on that Playstation.
Fast forward to later that evening, BD2’s (step) dad, brother and brother-in-law come to visit. This is my first time meeting dad and he’s like a whirlwind, but kind of explains some of stepbrother’s quirkiness. BD2 doesn’t seem to fit into this crowd at all, makes me wonder what it would be like to see him interacting with his biological father. Would their mannerisms be more alike? Who knows, behavior is both nurtured and given to us by nature. As I’m going over these thoughts in my head, wifey shows up and says her hellos to everyone including me and my daughter; a bit of an awkward moment. Although she said we should keep in touch, that hasn’t happened. Dad pulls BD2 to the side to whisper some manly wisdom and then they get ready to leave. I go upstairs to check on my other two and find one on the computer and the other curled up on the floor. I know the little one is sleepy so I change her diaper and try to put her to sleep but she’s not hearing it. BD2 comes in and tells me that he hopes she falls asleep before I leave because he’s “gone” and he knows she will probably act up when I get ready to leave.
“Wait a minute, you’re gone? Where are you going?”
“To the hotel where everybody else is.”
I’m dumbfounded. How are you going to leave without making sure that your mother and daughter are taken care of for the night? And I don’t get an invitation? You just gonna leave me here? Ain’t this a bitch. I look out the window and notice that wifey’s car is still parked on the curb and realize why I’m banished to the house. As I’m trying to blow up the inflatable bed for mom I ask when will they be leaving and let her know I will do my best to come back before they leave. She wants to know why I’m not attending the family reunion. I let her know it’s because her son did not invite me. We continue chatting and I give up on trying to inflate the bed.
The rest of the weekend was pretty much the same. I spoke to his mother Saturday morning and she asked if I would take her to get her hair done. While not in my plans for the day, I said yes. I tell her I will be there in an hour and a half to take her. When I get there she’s not ready so I wait. Thirty minutes go by and she is no closer to being ready than when I first got there. About this time wifey comes walking in, so I let his mom know I have one more errand to run and I’ll be back to pick her up. An hour passes and we get back to the house. Mom is sleep and wifey is still there. Inside I’m screaming, but I’m a woman of my word so I wait while he tries to wake her. The kids take off across the street to play. Great, now if I want to leave there will be a scene. Wifey and his sister leave so I take the opportunity to do my daughter’s hair and finish getting her ready to go to the reunion. Once everyone is ready, we part and go our separate ways.
Anyone who knows me knows that I complain about having little to no help with my kids, but the minute they are out of my sight I’m missing them immensely. People close to me also know that normally, I do not let my children go anywhere without me before the age of two, but with this last one I have broken all of my rules. That’s why it pisses me off when BD2 goes to thumping his chest and tries to block me from seeing my own child! I gave him a courtesy call Sunday to let him know that I wanted to pick up my baby on Monday to go watch fireworks; not a problem he says, my sister and mom may even want to go. So why then when I call on Monday to let him know my planned arrival time am I met with such hostility? “My family is still here”… “why do you have to see her everyday of my family reunion?” The reunion was Friday-Sunday and it’s now Monday, get over it.
Words are exchanged. I remind him that I did call yesterday to make him aware of my plans. I also point out to him that any time he has any sort of extended visitation he pulls this shit and tries to block me from seeing my child. I let him know that he and wifey can play house all day long, but Ayan will always be MY child and that at this point visitation is a privilege, not a right, at least not until he signs the papers making it so. More words are exchanged and we end with me coming to get my child. A few minutes later I receive a call from his mother. I have been told on and the guilt card is being played. I reiterate to her everything I told her son (in a nicer way) and of course she tries to defend her child. I let her know that when they leave the emergency room with her father I will be more than happy to bring Ayan back so they can spend more time with her, but right now I’m on my way to see my child.
I don’t know why anything he does continues to amaze or upset me. This is the same man that lied about being married and then denied his child to cover up his indiscretions. Why I would think that just because my family views him as family and invites him to our events (too accepting) that he would do the same I will never know.
While we may chat everyday, see each other every week, and share a child I’m still just the bitch that had his baby and a spot on his perfect image.
Sure, some family members know me very well, but this is the reunion and everyone will be there so now he has to dust off wifey and pull her off the shelf to show a united front. Nevermind the fact that they have been living in separate homes for the last year and until I made the plea for her to call, she wouldn’t even return his mother’s phone calls. But perhaps she too had something to gain by showing up this weekend. If she was there then he couldn’t invite me. How would he explain it, this is my wife and this is my baby momma? I don’t know how much it would have bothered his family. They seem to be pretty accepting and loving people. I mean hell, this is his step-family and though step dad has been remarried for some years they still view his mom as family. But I guess I never made it to that level and he’s doing everything in his power to be sure that I don’t. Why? I suppose something in his warped sense of reality is telling him that keeping me separate will somehow lessen what he’s done. I will seem more like a surrogate than like an affair. And if my feelings get hurt in the meantime, well who cares. I’m an object anyway, a distraction, a sexual toy, a baby machine and babysitter.
OBJECTS DON’T HAVE FEELINGS… but wives do.
And so do I.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)