November 18, 2005
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Monster Bitch Session
so I’d meant to call my dad and tell him how much I appreciated him
finishing my tea house so my neighborhood ass’n would get off my ass
about it. I really felt grateful. but I’ve been so busy and
tired, and sick. today I got a letter from him telling me that he
was thinking that he knew I’d struggled with depression and that he
thought that he’d never seen me so bad (??) as now. also he
implied that I was a poor parent because of it. he enclosed
clippings from the paper about depression meds and how divorce scars
children. fucking great.my other dad told me a month or so ago that I was becoming a poor
parent and that I’d better shape up or I might lose
custody. I just found out from my mother (who thinks I’m a
fiscal nightmare, but so far has not besmirched my parenting) that
happened because she found out from the kids that the ex was working on
them to get them to come live with him. he said that if he didn’t
have to pay child support they could afford a nice house for all of
them (and his girlfriend and her son). so mom and dad (divorced)
talked and decided that since mom was on my case already about
financial crap that he would be the one to kick my ass and get me in
gear, but NOT TELL ME about the custody thing.my head aches. I have a nasty cough. my lymph nodes
hurt. my ears hurt. I fall asleep whenever I get the
chance. I haven’t had the opportunity to rest up and get
better. I probably could use antibiotics but I can’t afford to go
to the doctor. if it gets worse I will, but I just had to buy
cold weather clothes for my middle daughter. my mother would
probably have bought them if I’d asked her but I don’t want to ask her
for anything. I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m just sayin’ I
don’t have the energy to put on my ‘stellar parent mask’ for
company. I don’t think that makes me a bad parent. I’m just
fucking tired.I get up at 6am, get everyone out on their way, do school, get everyone
settled, give them some attention, make dinner, make sure they get
homework done, make sure they get to have friends over, drive them
places, shop for food, make lunches, bathe them, clean, do laundry, do
my own homework (I had a research project this week), get them to bed,
try to get some sleep.I don’t have the kids for thanksgiving and I was thinking how great it
would be to do nothing but NO, I’m expected to go to TWO different
family dinners. I’d rather go to fodon’s, but that would just
mean three. it always works out this way: I have so many
obligations that the thing I WANT to do falls by the wayside because I
have no energy or time.and they think they’re HELPING me. my dad is showing up to take
my daughter to the ski swap, not for her skis, but because he’s getting
skis for a friend’s child and thinks it would be fun for them to hang
out. well, you know what? my daughter might think it was
fun to hang out as a mother/kids for one fucking time. plus, it
means I have to get up at fucking 6am yet another day. I am not a
morning person. then tomorrow night is the play my mother is
taking them all to. you know to help us all out, make special
time.special time THEIR WAY. no one asks me, or my kids what we
want. and why can’t I say no? because I’ve seen what
happens when I say no and it’s worse. I remember why I moved
away. and the thing is, I do need their help. you know,
just in case something goes really wrong, which it tends to do.
they think they own me and sometimes I think they’re right.I was thinking: well, the kids will grow up and I’ll move
away. then I realized that my parents will be old by then and
I’ll have to start taking care of them. I tell ya, I’m not
depressed until I start thinking about things like that. it’s a
train of thought that doesn’t lead anywhere good.but there’s a big part of me that just wants them to fuck off and leave me alone for ONE FUCKING WEEKEND.
Comments (16)
Dear god.
I think I will write more when I have more time (we are settling on what to have for dinner, and hello! it is 7 PM already). I promise I will.
But for now, I want you to know that you are doing the best you can. Sometimes that isn’t enough, but in your case, I bet money it is.
Please take care of yourself, okay?
–Michelle
that’s pretty crappy treatement, and speaks of little respect for your needs and wants…
frig, dude.
getting what people THINK YOU NEED instead of being asked what you need sucks, I know that for sure.
I realize there’s nothing I can do, but if there ever is anything I can do, like egg someone’s house in michigan, or make prank phone calls, let me know.
You can always go to the doctor, have him write you a note that you are contagious. That’ll get you out of having to endure dinner with any family members. Just beg off sick. Heaven knows you deserve one freaking day to yourself here and there!
Children have physical and emotional needs, if you are meeting these, which you clearly are, where’s the lousy parenting? How you raise your children is up to you and you’re grown up now, your parents should give up raising you. Tell you ex to bugger-off.
you sound like a mother who cares. who struggles with keeping things afloat and normal in a somewhat less than optimal environment. no thanks, taken for granted even looked down upon ( let them try it for a week! )
i would guess that what your ex is doing may jeopardize his visitation rights- wouldnt it?
Whoa! You have a heavy load right now. I am so sorry. Wanna come over here for margaritas? I have patrooooon and cabo wabo. You pick, or both.
my parents undermine my parenting often, then deny it, even when I catch them. sure the boy is just a baby, but they makes things harder for us, then shrug, like it’s no big deal. (but if someone’s listening, they go on and on about what a great mother I am, *big jerkoff motion*)
my husband’s sister called CPS on him once, because she thought they were trying potty training too early. family sucks it.
I have one baby and one teenager, and a husband, and there are days where I barely have a thread of sanity left to my name. depression? it’s not depression, it’s the fucking reality of being a parent. it’s hard and it’s brutal and they’re never done wanting. it drains. you have three! and no husband, and a bunch of critical eyes just waiting for you to give them a reason to feel superior. and that’s really horrible and I am sorry that you have to deal with it. if they think you’re spread to thin, how about HELPING? it’s so fucking pompous and hypocritial of them to do a couple token things and think they’re saints. you’re totally right to be angry, I think.
love to you.
God, hon, I’m sorry – sometimes I really wish I could just clone my parents and share them around, because the last thing you need is that sort of treatment right now. They should be supportive and TALKING to you about what they can do to help. My Mum and I had this chat one time, about a friend who’d just had a baby. Mum was saying that so many people think that going over and offering babysitting is the helpful thing (and sometimes, sure) but what the friend *really* needs (and what Mum always did) was someone to go over and do the washing up and put a load of laundry on. It’s picking the things that are most helpful and allowing you and your kids to make the most of your own rare precious time, rather than hogging it all like they seem to.
(I gotta say, I drool over those boots on the lower right there every. single. time. that I visit your page..
)
Wow, um… Well said.
Personally I’m terrified of having kids and being struck with the scrutiny of how I parent.
You know, those tv ads for depression with the kid in the background? They really unsettle me, (I think they’re spooky and oversimplifying) and it reads here like they’ve been watching that damned commercial.
Sounds like you know what you’re doing and you’re doing fine – but being struck with the double edged sword of familial “support.”
Here’s hoping you catch a break in the near future.
SealKilly’s comment sounds right on.
join the club. i had an earthquake that pretty much put me as homeless – my room mate cancelled the lease and took off… i’ll post on this.
you are doing more than OK on parenting. I hate that you need your parents and can’t blow them off. that’s always my ace with my parents, behave or I won’t interact with you. sending you some time to yourself and then some time with just you and your kids. xoxo
I hate that…I hate people who are nice to you “their way”, and the minute you protest you’re fucked. That is the situation inwhich I lost my daughter…I could feel my gut tightening as I read your entry. I hate walking on eggshells and feeling obligated.
I’m sorry you’re going through that. As for Thanksgiving-call in sick and then do what you want. Tell them you’re turning the phones off and not answering the door. As for your ex, tell him to get fucked (with a crowbar up the ass sideways)…Love and hugs to you!
-M
You know we had the ‘depression’ talk earlier–it’s really all a bunch of bullshit. I mean, I know, and you know that there are chemical imblances, blah de blah, but sometimes life just fucking sucks. And what are we supposed to do? Pretend it doesn’t?
I wonder if your dad (dad no. 1–you know, all your dad’s get confusing, yo) didn’t talk to your mom as well? Or your other dad–do they talk, even?
Anyhow, it’s all kind of pointless, they don’t need to be giving you this grief. I don’t get it at all. My parents can be as critical as any (and that’s what parents seem to do best), but I feel as if they really felt I was slipping by the way-side in whatever form they’d confront me in person, with a bit more tact than we’ve seen from your parents, and really try to help, rather than just critic. It’s easy to do the latter, and I realize they feel like they’re helping; but they’re not. And how difficult is it to talk to you as an adult and ask how to help? Ask how you are, even?
Dude, I’m sorry. i’m also sorry I’m so sick, otherwise i’d try and figure out ways to help.
And my parents are still coming, whether I cook or not is still to be decided, depending on how I feel. But you’re welcome to join us–we may go out (i’ll treat if my parents do not, but I’m sure they will–my mom even said to me today ‘money is not an object’, ha! yeah right, ha!). Anyhow, keep it in mind. It may be good to have a sick day of your own.
When you marry my sister I’ll move in and take care of you both. I’ll be your in home bitch! All you have to do is be nice to me.
And your parent’s sound A LOT like my own. I feel like telling them to cut the umbilical already fuckers.
ps… The crackwhore comment cracked me up.
i don’t think i’ve run up against greater frustration as a parent than when my own or bill’s start second-guessing and over-ruling and generally acting as though they’ve never had children of their own, because no actual parent would pull some of the shit that they pull with the kids, or fail to realize how fucking infuriating it is to be told you’re doing it wrong, or “don’t you think you should” or “wouldn’t it be easier if you”…
it sucks when you have a lot of shit on your plate, and you scrape some off, and somebody else comes along and dumps another steaming helping on. you’re working through it, you’re loving your kids, and some days, that’s all the victory you need.