Hello World! Long time no see, huh?
The drama in my family hasn't gone away, but I'm relieved to say the court portion of it all is over and done with. Now we have to focus on the children and counseling. So, that's that.
If I can, I'm going to visit and catch up on some blogs this weekend. I went over to see Susan and I plan on hopping to a few others as time permits.
The kiddos are doing great. I've added a few pictures below. I hope everyone had a fantastic Thanksgiving!
Technically, I'm breaking a counselor rule here. I'm not supposed to discuss my Mother or the things going on with her. I'm supposed to journal "privately"...but where is the fun in that??
So...two weeks ago Jimbo and I flew out to Colorado Springs for business. It was a trip for his company, and aside from a plane ticket, it was free. It was the first time we've been alone like this in 5 years (since Logan was born) and we couldn't wait. We arrived ready to relax and immerse ourselves in one another.
Oh, and we were also there for something else - to make a solid decision and time frame on when we would re-involve ourselves with my Mom.
Then it happened...
On the second day of the trip, Tuesday to be exact, we got the call from his Mother who was staying at our home to babysit the children. My Mother got an attorney and were were "served". She's suing us for grandparent visitation.
There is a TON going on right now, as you can probably imagine. She has refused time and time again to give me time to deal with the emotional aspects of what she's done, refused to give me space to find common ground. Instead she's chosen to proceed as she always does - as SHE wants.
It's actually sad but fitting that she chose to do this. Jimbo said she was walking the line and if she tried something like this, he was done with her. While she's my Mother, she put this upon herself. We didn't start this, ask for this, or encourage this - but we will see it to fruition.
We have an attorney and she should have gotten the news by now - we fully intend to fight her in court.
It's a mess, a heartbreaking one, and something that never had to happen.
I'm livid, furious, angry. I could rip out my hair, scream at the top of my lungs, punch a wall or the nearest tree. Thank god I managed to control myself and only let those volatile emotions come through in the form of screaming.
My 7 year old daughter just decided to climb into the window via the assistance of my curio cabinet. Nestled atop this cabinet are the Windstone Unicorns I've amassed as gifts over the years (for those not familiar with them, the cheapest one is the baby and starts at $60. The others range from $80-150) as well as numerous unicorns, music boxes, and gifts from friends and family.
Of course the curio tipped, it's not meant to be used a climbing device. I was just pulling the crock pot down to prepare a roast for dinner when I heard the crash. When I arrived to the scene all of the Windstones (minus the baby one) were destroyed. The most treasured in the bunch (pictured above) and my favorite was broken into over a dozen pieces. The things inside didn't fare much better and I had to pull a garbage can from outside and throw away things that are tied to certain events in the past (christmas, an anniversary, a birthday as a child).
The thing is, after I was done railing at my daugther and had begun cleaning up the mess I calmed enough to tell her, "After this I expect a good report from school from you". She responds with, "If I'm good do I get to go to Wal-Mart and get a toy?"
My 7 year old has zero remorse for what she's done and I think the only thing worse than losing these things I adored is the fact that my child seems absolutely oblivious (or uncaring) for what she's done.
I'm open to advice here. What would you do?
I took a trip to see my family doctor. She's still new to me but so far I like her. She gets the "girl" thing better than my male physician did previously. I was certain she would understand my need for a medication to get me through this short period of stress in my life. Considering everything that has transpired.
I told her everything - minus my nice imparting words to my sister - and she listened thoughtfully. I explained I didn't want a long term medication, just something to ease the way for the next few weeks. I've been unable to sleep, I'm edgy and nervous, and it's slowly taking a toll.
She tells me she'll, "put something together that will work for me", and then leaves the room. When she returns she hands me a sample of Lexapro and a prescription for it as well.
Let me just say I think Lexapro is an awesome antidepressant. I used it for several months after Annabel's birth. It got me through a really difficult time and I praise it's gloom eclipsing glory.
BUT.
I am not depressed.
And this isn't the first time I've had someone try to pawn off a medication like this for anxiety. (When I was busting my balls, working a two jobs and attending college full-time, my 'then' doctor tried to do the exact same thing.)
I suppose she worries depression might follow and it's simply smart thinking on her behalf. But what in the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime while I'm still losing sleep and I have an occasional but debilitating panic attack?
For the first time in my life, I demanded something for my nerves. I've never, EVER, told a Doctor to prescribe me something before. But I knew that if my family contacted me, I would need something more than Lexapro to smooth the way. She didn't like it but complied with my request and gave a prescription for Xanax.
For those of you that read the blog, especially if you deal with anxiety like this, do you have to ask for something to keep you from losing your shit during stressful periods? Was I wrong to tell her the Lexapro is well and good but I just don't need it?
Yesterday went off without a hitch(with the exception of Arwen and she's doing well). It was a relief, but I don't know how long this calm will hold before the storm. Thank you everyone for your well wishes and support. Sometimes just knowing other people understand makes you feel like less of an anomaly.
Tania - to answer your question - this is more than ongoing. Since the birth of our second child, there has been tension in the family. It boils down to one thing really - control. My Mother wants total control when it comes to my children. She wants to decide when she gets them (without notice), where she takes them (without prior consent from us), and how long she keeps them (she'll drop them off when she is good and ready). That is the root of the problem, along with Jimbo's refusal to allow this to continue.
I didn't blog about it but the day before my Aunt passed away my Mother pulled the shame old garbage. She showed up at my home unexpectedly (while Jimbo was at work I might add) and told me she'd made a doctor's appointment for Annabel for her skin (she's got eczema too). At the time I had a stomach bug and told her we'd have to reschedule (and to be fair, I didn't feel my daughter needed to go to the doctor). She forced the issue, threatening to take Annabel by force if she had to. At that point I told her to leave and explained I didn't feel well to start. So she pulled her favorite threat from her pocket, "I call the police and report you for neglect!"
Long story short - I guzzled some Imodium for the upset tummy and made the trip. And guess what? The doctor said Annabel was absolutely FINE and nothing was wrong with her.
I decided after that incident I didn't want her around anymore, but then Laura died. Her unexpected and untimely passing reminded me of just how little time we are given in this world, and I forgave but didn't necessarily forget.
Now this has happened.
To be 100% honest here, I think my Sister and Mother are suffering from a chemical imbalance. Their elevator doesn't go to the top most of the time.
I can't recall the number of times my Sister has called here complaining my Mother did this or that (her arguments always revolve around money. My Sister is currently in the market for a new vehicle but as she doesn't work, she expects my Mother or her fiance's family to provide for her) and then spends an hour whining about how bad she has it or how wrong it is my Mother purchased something new for herself when, "I need a new car!"
Did I mention my Sister currently drives a 2003 Lincoln Navigator?
There are many differences between us but I'll name a few so you get a general idea of the seperation.
I cook - they eat the fast food window. I do laundry - they purchase new clothes to avoid it. I am on a budget - they are constantly struggling with money. I stay at home with my kids - they are always on the road somewhere. I shop for my clothing and such at Target - they both have credit cards to various stores in the mall.
And then you have the big difference. They'll say and do whatever it takes to get what they want. They don't care if they hurt your feelings in the process. In fact, if they are angry enough, that's exactly what they go for - the gut. Nothing is sacred.
I slept horribly. Each time I closed my eyes it was the same thing - reliving the events that transpired hours beforehand.
I went back and re-read my previous post. In retrospect, it seems very Jerry Springerish. Fighting with relatives as an adult. I always imagined I might have issues in my life with my marriage, not with those I have been surrounded by a good portion of my life.
My poor Father is also feeling the sting. My Mother is terrified we are going to press charges and she will "lose her security clearance". So early this morning she got dressed (along with my Sister) and drove up to the court house to make sure Jimbo didn't go up there to file something against her. What's laughable (insert sarcasm here) is that Jimbo also has to have clearance for his job as well. I suppose it's fine if he loses his income because of her antics but her livelihood off limits.
I don't know which is worse. Her total lack of regard of our needed income (if he loses his clearance we're in the shit) or the fact she's so mental she actually drove up to the court house this morning on the off chance he was going there. By the way, doesn't that classify as a form of harassment? Or is it considered stalking?
I told my Father we are not pressing charges but she needs to leave me the hell alone. I told him I can't take it anymore. He agrees that would be best for all involved.
So...
Right now I'm in a dark place. I don't know what to do. I'm seriously considering contacting someone to go talk to. I've never spoken with someone before (i.e. counseling) but right now I need to let this out.
I'm tired of being afraid and of being cornered and threatened, and I'm tired of worrying something might happen to my Mother or Sister and I'll regret losing that time we could have "gotten along" because I put a fork in them.
But sometimes you have to concede and accept that this is the way things have to be. Right?
Picture this if you will:
Me in my driveway.
Make-up - impeccable. Hair - wet and wild. Dressed in nothing but a robe. Slurs are being uttered, insults flung, anger peaks and my big red button signal blares. I lift my arms, extending both hands, creating impossibly proportioned and balanced "bird" fingers. Then I open my mouth and scream wildly - "FUCK YOU!"
Now, for the rest of the story...
My day started out great. Spent time with the family, decided at 2:00pm. to get ready to go out with hubs and kids for pizza and possibly a movie. Approx 2:35pm my Mother, Sister, and 18 month old niece arrive with a gift for me. I thank them, we talk. My oldest daughter begins to complain that she, "wants to go with granny". This behavior persists. My Mother notices rash on daughter, says she will "take her to the clinic". I give the okay BUT insist I must talk to Jimbo first.
I go down the stairs and the hubs says, "No, if our daughter is going to an unknown clinic, we need to take her ourselves." I tell him I will tell my Mother no. He sighs and says "forget about it." I tell him again I will tell her no and he says, "No, your Mother will only do what she wants to anyway."
My Mother hears this and proceeds down the stairs.
An argument erupts, Jimbo remains seated and tells my Mother to leave. She doesn't. I take my niece from her arms and tell my husband and Mom to take it outside. He asks her to leave again, she doesn't. She begins insulting Jimbo, calling him a "control freak" and other insulting and reprehensible things. He reacts as she intended, stands and walks to her. I turn away, watching the argument unfold from the reflection of the television screen.
My Mother lunges at my husband and he reacts defensively, throwing out his hands to grasp her shoulders. She falls to the ground and I spin at the same time, averting my eyes from the screen and searching for her directly, worried that she's hurt herself.
Then I see it.
My Mother is staring at me with this expression of pure terror and violation - wanting me to believe that my husband is responsible for her accident, insinuating that he hit her. Jimbo backs away, hands raised, yelling all the while, "I didn't touch her!" even though I know he didn't, even as I know he didn't do anything wrong. My Mother continues staring at me, waiting for me to react, to lash out at Jimbo.
What I say next wipes that victimized look from her face.
"Mother, he never touched you. I was watching everything from the reflection of the television."
She lurches to her feet in outrage, stomping up the stairs. My sister hollers "where is my baby!" I hurry up the stairs and say, "she is here", handing her over. My Mother whips around, raging at me for not defending her against my husband. When I tell her directly that he never touched her she admits she tripped, but then proceeds to say, "but he had no right to touch me!"
As if her striking him was an appropriate response and defending himself was abhorrent.
As I go into the kitchen, my Mother and sister lash out. I walk forward, toward the door. My sister's swing misses me - barely. I argue with them and tell them to leave. My sister comes at me again, only to retreat after a solid kick has sent me into the dining room, "I have my baby in my arms, Jaime!"
They go into the garage, rushing outside. "We'll see you in court", my Mother says. Then my sister calls me worthless, a pill head, a piece of shit sister and daughter that cares more for her husband and his family than she does her own. Then she threatens me with DHR.
"I'm calling DHR, you just wait!"
My threshold breaks. My very own sister is throwing my biggest fear into my face - the future of my children.
And she knows it.
My body heats and I lose my collective shit. I lift my hands, let the winged angels fly, and scream, "FUCK YOU!". Then I inform my sister I need to change into my clothes, but if she wants a piece of my action, I'll be right down in a minute.
She calls me a coward as she slides into my Mother's car with her infant in tow and she and my Mother blessedly leave my home.
My birthday was shit and it's not the first one my toxic family has ruined. But you know what I've decided?
It's the last.
P.S. I called the police and filed a report. I won't take this shit. Not anymore.
This year, instead of focusing on the dreaded "age" factor, I'm going to remind myself of all the reasons to be grateful. I'm still here, surrounded by those I love most in my life. I woke to a decorated table with homemade cupcakes, a boisterous surprise yell from the kiddos, and a kiss from the hubs. We're taking the kids out for lunch this afternoon and possibly a movie together.
What more could a gal ask for? I'll settle for being lucky enough to experience the exact same thing next year.
Wow, thanks for the love girls (Shelley,Rae,Tania!) I've missed you too. Here are the photo's from the circus. I'm battling a gnarly stomach virus at the moment, so I'll blog more when I'm not rushing to and from the porcelain god!
That last photo cracks me up by the way (was taken after the circus when we took the kids to Pizza Hut). I'll take a few new ones of Ms. Annabel to share too. She's grown so much!
Tuesday morning I was sitting in the love seat, sipping on my must have cup o java. The sun was shining, the temp outside my window a nice and cool 57 degrees. The skies were clear, the birds were chirping, and it seemed all was right with the world. Then the phone rang, and what started out as a potentially awesome day turned to shit.
My Aunt had passed away the night before from a massive heart attack.
This was a woman I adored from the first time we met. I was an idealistic 9 year old at the time, still trapped in that middle ground between youth and young adulthood. One that adored horses so much her bedroom walls, shelves, and ceiling was adorned with figurines, posters and stickers of the four legged creatures.
So naturally, when I met my Uncles new girlfriend Laura, a fellow horsehound and kindred spirit - I was in love. And strangely, so was she. I would go visit my Dad each weekend (parents were divorced) and would ask the minute I set rear inside his massive red Chevy truck "are we going to see Aunt Laura?" He used to tease me by asking, "do you come to visit me or her on the weekend?"
I spent several summers on her farm, chasing the horses in the pasture, pestering the pigs and chickens around the house, and sometimes I'd just climb into the loft of the barn and soak in the delicious scent of sweet feed that permeated the entire place during the summer.
It was a magical time, and at the center was Aunt Laura.
She did other things for me through the years, bestowing gifts every little girl dreams of, like a pony with a big red bow in the front yard for Christmas (I was 10) but the thing I loved best about her was the way I could talk to her about anything. She never treated me like a child, never acted as if I were inferior because of the fifteen year age gap between us.
Then one day Laura decided her partying days with my Uncle and his crew had come to an end, and shortly after, they broke up. It was devastating, but I understood. She'd been abusing narcotics for years and I was proud of her for making the difficult choice and getting away from the lifestyle.
She cut my Uncle from her life but not me, and I truly believe the reason I didn't dally in the drug infested culture that is high school was a direct result of watching the suffering she endured to get clean.
Then, around 12 years ago, she met and married a man. She soon became pregnant and had a child of her own - Mikaela Lee. I continued to call and visit when I could but her old man didn't care for the reminder of her previous relationship (aka me) and eventually, we fell out of touch.
A few months ago, I got a call from my sister, along with Laura's telephone number. She had bumped into her at a gas station and she'd asked about me. I jotted the number down on one of the school calendar's on the fridge, intending to call after supper was eaten and baths were taken care of - but it didn't go according to plan. By the next morning, I was packing kids off to school, preparing lunches, and I totally forgot about the number on the fridge.
And now, I'll never get to make that phone call.
Vincent - *Screams loudly and Wails in the other room*
Me - What is GOING ON??!!? *rushes into the playroom to see Vincent on the floor, sobbing*
Me - What's wrong Vincent?
Vincent - Logan hit me!!!
Me - Logan! *narrowing my eyes at him in warning* Don't hit!
Logan - *stares up at me with a confounded expression*
Arwen - Logan didn't hit him! Vincent was lying!
Another impending Thanksgiving at the Saare household - who wants to come join us??
On days like today, when my children are at their worst and I want to crawl back in bed indefinitely, I remind myself of how lucky I am.
My cousin Lee is a 28 year old guy, nice as he can be, always willing to help lend a hand or offer a friendly ear. He's had a hard life, starting from birth. His Mother decided it would be okay to drink while he was in her womb and he suffered horribly after he came into the world. And the cruelest thing is now, years later, her choices are doing him in yet again.
His heart is failing. His young body is slipping away. And he's trying to be strong and sustain himself on his faith. But he's going to die and he knows it. It's only a matter of time and he's hoping it's later rather than sooner.
So in spite of the head lice, bickering children and chores that never end - I will be grateful. If today were your last day, would you really want to spend it being petty or cold hearted?
Ode to Head Lice
It starts as a tingle
And becomes a scratch
Your children start to complain
Then they start to thrash
Oh No, you say
Please god don't do this to me
You pull out the Robi comb
And oh boy guess what you see
Nasty ass critters
Taking shelter in your childrens heads
Now it's time to clean
So you go and strip the beds
Next comes the fun part
Time get the husbands help
Listening to your children scream and yell
As you nit pick their little scalps
But the best is yet to come
Don't get comfortable yet
Three weeks worth of diligence
Ain't exactly a sure bet
Because these disgusting bastards
Don't simply thrive to piss you off
They are a creation that given the opportunity
Will survive a nuclear holocaust
I've nit picked and combed
Barked and bitched
Finally getting my children clear
When my head starts to itch.
Now that my poem is out of the way - I'm not afraid to say it damn it, so why am I hesitating? Bah! Our house has started all out war with head lice. We got rid of the little fuckers and they are back. This time with reinforcements.
When we are back to our normal lives and I'm not running the washer and dryer night and day, I'll be able to blog again.
I can't believe I only remembered this today to share with the blogosphere. But at least I did recall what transpired between myself and my Pappaw aka my Dad's Father on the 4th.
We arrived early, around 11am. The kids immediately ran to the playroom and settled in. Shortly after my cousin arrived with his brood (another 4 children) which meant there were 8 children in all running around wildly. Jimbo and I stayed inside to supervise but after an hour or so I decided to take a walk outside to visit. It figures as soon as I did Vincent would take note and come along with me.
So I get outside and Vincent bounds off the porch to the playset. I'm talking to my Father, Pappaw, Nana (his wife), my cousin and my new uncle (by marriage). All is right with the world until I hear Vincent's cry. I know the cry very well, it's his "pain" cry. I turn to see he's hit his head on the corner of the wooden stairs. Obviously it hurts.
"Come here Vince." I soothe and reach out to him. He limps over to me as he also tripped after hitting his head and hit his shin.
"Momma," he whimpers as he walks into my arms.
As I'm comforting my child Pappaw says:
"Tell that boy to suck it up."
I look up slowly, hoping he is joking but the look in his eyes tell me he is most definitely not.
"What? Suck it up? Are you kidding?" I say.
"He's a boy, he needs to suck it up and shake it off." He stares at Vincent with the oddest expression and I feel that Lioness roar up inside me.
"Well you know what?" I say back hotly. "He doesn't have to suck up shit and do you know why? Because I'm his Momma and I will suck it up for him!"
We stare for a moment before I stand up with Vincent in my arms and go back inside. Once there I hurry to Jimbo to bitch and rant. I'm so furious I'm shaking. How dare this old fart tell my 3 year old to suck it up? He's just a kid! Jimbo is shocked and when I tell my Mom she is livid. I spend the rest of the day avoiding Pappaw until he's about to leave. As if he knows I'm still angry he hugs me and tries to make small talk. I'm polite as he is my Grandfather but I'm still angry. He leaves and sadly I know deep down my opinion of him has changed, quite possibly forever.
Want to know the incredibly funny part of all of this? My Grandfather and Grandmother left my Dad and his siblings when they were just little babies (my children's ages). They were raised by my Mammaw instead, I still remember the grief my Dad experienced when she passed. It's the only time I've ever seen him cry. So forgive me if I don't take parenting instructions from someone who never had it in him to parent.
I'm not sure what this funk is but it had best make it's way out of my body. I'm sneezing, running low grade fever, I'm achy and my stomach can't make up it's mind to either let me eat in peace or make me suffer.
I'll blog more when I'm feeling a bit better. We had a fun 4th at least!
So my dear husband had one request today, homemade Apple Pie. Otherwise his day was spent relaxing around the house and vegging together on the sofa tonight to watch Gremlins.
That is the one thing we all do together as a family I really enjoy. It's so much fun to watch the children laughing when silly things happen on the screen (they can't be scared when we make funny noises and say "get that gremlin!"). Logan would stand and mimic the people slowly walking around on the screen (like the Mom investigating the kitchen) only to go "BAH!!!" at the right times.
Vincent of course snuggled in with Dad, Annabel snuggled in with me and Arwen floated back and forth around us all and we laughed until we cried.
I called my Grandpa and Dad too to wish them a Happy Father's Day. I'd really hoped to see Dad today but he wanted to check out the gun show with his Dad and it's his day after all. Maybe I can get out to see him this week or this weekend. I've really missed him.
"Baby, don't sweat the small stuff that you can't change. All of us think you rock, we love you and at the end of the day, isn't that what matters?"
Abso-fucking-lutely baby. Abso-fucking-lutely.
Today was the annual company picnic. We loaded up the kids and took off this afternoon in what we hoped would be a fun family day. For the most part, that is what we got, with one noticeable exception...the freaking redneckville HEAT.
Oh my dear god. I broke my "no shorts" rule and purchased some capri's the night before. It marked the first time in years I've worn anything other than pants out (another topic for another day) and it's a good thing too or I'd never have made it.
The one thing I have to blog about though is the poor little girl in the blue harness. She was perhaps 3 years old and was strapped into a blue harness that wrapped around her chest and shoulders. On the back was a clasp and this was attached to a blue leash. On the other end was the girls Mom. Now I realize some people like the child leash but it reminded me of a woman on a walk with her dog. This Mom would walk a decent distance ahead of her child and then pull on the leash. The little girl would stumble at times and do an odd jog to catch up only to fall behind and be tugged at once more. I finally snapped a picture to share with you all. Let's hope they never read my blog!
After we were finished we packed back into the van and rushed to Hell-Mart to pick up the things necessary to bake an apple pie (Jimbo's request for Father's Day). While there I got stuck in a 20 minute line and by the time I made it to the Van Jimbo handed me the camera with one instruction:
"You have to watch this, I recorded it while you were gone."
Since the kids were screaming their heads off I pretty much knew what it was he wanted me to see. I have to say I'm so glad I was the one that went inside the store.
Friday we did something for the first time as a whole family...we went out to eat in a restaurant. Ok technically we went to dinner at Pizza Hut but still, we took all the kids and it turned out to be a wonderful experience. I was so pleased as all of the kids were on their very best behavior. They sat patiently and colored on their papers until the pizza arrived. We left a 20% tip and I'm sure the waitress was pretty happy as it was easy money.
On to today. I'm disappointed to report that the alloted snack times are not working out so well. As soon as a snack is finished I immediately get asked for more. On one hand I don't mind giving snacks as we eat pretty healthy around here. Sure we have chips and snack cakes but usually we eat bananas, strawberries, yogurt or popcorn. Unfortunately however the cost of gas has really hit us hard. We paid $60 to fill up the van Friday. That's $10 more than our norm and considering we'll probably have to fill it again next week that's a $20 increase. This means we have to be more conservative with things and that includes cutting back on feeding snacks to my piglets.
I've decided to give snacks 3 times per day and the major snack I've decided on is popcorn. This way I can give a snack about an hour after breakfast, another an hour after lunch (before nap) and another when they wake from nap. I know they are not starving if they get these small snacks and hopefully they will learn that these are the only times I am giving into requests. I also have to teach them that snack times doesn't mean endless snacks. Logan is terrible about asking for a yogurt, wolfing it down and wanting another...and another...and another. Logan can go through roughly 10 yogurts per day if I'd let him. He loves them more than anything else.
Annabel has been difficult as of late. At night she doesn't sleep well and therefore I don't sleep well. At first I thought she might be coming down with the same bug I have but I found out today the cause of her discomfort is from cutting her top teeth. They are trying to come through and this means now more than ever she has to start on some solids. I hope to break some ground with her in the coming weeks.
Otherwise the day has been awesome. I'm waiting for my luck to run out!
Summer Scoreboard:
Kids=2
Mom=3
Woo-Hoo! I'm on top, wonder how long that will last?!?
I've got some sort of bug. It's given me cold chills, diarrhea, a headache and all around funkness. I've been in the bed riding it out most of the weekend and just got out of the bed a short time ago today.
I get downstairs and my Mom calls. I tell Jimbo to tell her I'm still asleep. I don't feel like dealing with her at the moment. I hear him begin to tell her over and over again that he is caring for all 4 children as I don't feel well. This goes on for maybe 3 minutes before he gets off the phone.
"You know what she wanted??" he asks me. "She didn't even ask if you are ok, no sir, she wanted me to watch Zoe for her."
"What?" I'm not really surprised but I have to ask.
"Yeah, I told her I had all the kids and I couldn't handle 5 alone and she just kept saying over and over, "Zoe just loooves it out there and she wants to come visit sooooo bad", trying to make me feel guilty. I told her no twice before she took the hint."
A couple of hours later the phone rings. I reach for it and answer.
"Hello?"
"Hey, look I called Jimbo earlier and I just needed you to confirm to Zoe that you are sick and Jimbo said he couldn't watch her."
"You need to confim WHAT?" I ask back.
"That she can't come out, that I'm not lying about you being sick."
"Wait a minute, you HAVE to CONFIRM to a child that what you say doesn't go?? Yes I am sick, no Jimbo cannot watch her today."
"That's all I needed."
She hangs up the phone. She doesn't ask if I'm ok or how I'm feeling.
She didn't call to confirm shit. She knows I can't say no and that I always give in. Unfortunately for Zoe, I feel like crap and cannot watch her today, forcing me not to offer to let her come out.
My Mom pisses me off so badly.
