(This post is just me bitching.)

We picked up a couple of pizzas last night. One of which was a Mediterranean vegetarian thin crust which I really enjoy. There were two pieces left over, and I had hoped to have a piece for breakfast.

Shouldn’t have thought about it.

So, of course, it was gone by the time I wanted it. I asked Buck if had eaten it, and he said he had.

I went back to the kitchen to find something else for breakfast and noticed the dishes hadn’t been done (I’ve been doing them more and more lately since he has a job). He was in the living room, laying on the floor playing a video game (as he had been doing when I went to bed last night, and as he was doing when I got up this morning). So I told him to unload and load the dishwasher. “Am I in trouble for eating the pizza?” he demanded.

Apparently he thinks since he has a job, he doesn’t have to do anything else. And I think he’s sleeping on the floor of his room since his bed is covered with clean and dirty clothes. Clothes that I told him to pick up because I was spraying for fleas. Last week.

Oh, the job. We had told him that if he got a job this summer, it would have to be near enough for him to walk or ride his bike to. So he finds a job in literally another town, because his friend with the two dads can get him there. So he pretty much moved in over there, and we didn’t see him for a week. Unless he needed a ride home. Because he took the sentence ‘near enough for him to walk or ride his bike to’ LITERALLY. He figured if he got himself TO the job, we would get him home. *headdesk*

We’ve bought an old small pick-up truck for him to learn to drive on and get his full license. And he could seem to care less about learning to drive. We’ve told him to arrange his schedule so that he’s off when Dad’s home so he can learn to drive. Hasn’t happened.

We’re making him pay $100 every two weeks to pay for the truck and insurance. So apparently that counts as full room and board and he can lay on his lazy ass and do nothing else. One more year of high school, one more year, one more year.

I don’t know how things got so contentious between us. I’ve gone to bat for him so many times with all the shit he’s done, trying to keep him from being kicked out of parochial school (for basically sexual harassment…and we did take him out, when we realized we couldn’t leave him there with his ‘victims’.) Taking him to counselors. Taking him to juvenile time out (which has only proven he can handle jail if he should ever go). Try to help him with school (which he fights tooth and nail, saying we don’t understand how it is at his public high school…oh, we do, which is why we are trying to help him so much).

I had a weird dream the other night. I was at a function at the Catholic high school the three older kids went to. There were performances on two stages, and I was impressed that someone finally figured out how to make a graduation ceremony really enjoyable. Then I heard an odd noise coming from a bathroom nearby. I opened the door, and there was a woman in there with her two young sons, one of them a baby, both of them crying. There was a man in there also, with his pants around his ankles. He grabbed his pants up and ran off. The woman handed the baby to me and calmly just walked away, never looking back. The children were covered in shit, and I was stunned, trying to figure out what had happened.

The dream was very disturbing. As the day went on, I realized it was just a symbolic representation of our lives since we discovered that Buck’s and Goob’s mother had been married to a sex offender. She chose to follow her husband and left them and us covered in the shit of the aftermath. I think I’ve reached the end of my emotional rope.

It hasn’t been all bad…there have been very good moments, and I’m so sorry for not recording more of them here. This tends to be my bitching place.

And as long as I’m speaking of bitching…Goob, your egg-donor has once again stolen a picture off your FB (a military one) and posted it on her FB. According to her, she thought your wife would find it amusing. Pissed me off. One more year of this…just long enough to find out whether she’ll try to show up for Buck’s graduation as she did for yours. Then I’ll be done with her FB, the smarmy bitch. She makes it sound like Dad kidnapped you and Buck, and she has been desperately crawling the internet trying to find you. She’s taken pictures of Buck from his high school site too. Tries to look like a loving mother, desperate to see her sons, but won’t pay a goddamn penny in child support.

Okay, enough bitching for today. Doesn’t do any good to dwell on this. *sigh*

2 Responses to “Kvetching”

  1. pam Says:

    Maybe it doesn’t do any good to dwell but it can feel really good to bitch! ;)

  2. Bou Says:

    We all need a good bitching session now and then. Sometimes we need it more than others.

    One more year…

Leave a Reply