Last night was so crazy...I'm surprised I didn't blog about it, but I was just really tired when I got home. Well, that's not exactly true. I stayed up until 4 AM, so I wasn't TIRED, I just wasn't in the mood for blogging.
Anyway, first I went and volunteered in Tristan's class for his camping day thing. Rachel volunteered too and took him to counseling afterwards. He was really happy to see me there and he wrote a note that said, "I love you and I miss you a lot. I wish I could live with you. I will see you next weekend. Love, your son Tristan."
Nowwwwwwwwwww, I must admit that I had a momentary temptation to take a picture of it and post it on Facebook. See, last year on Mother's Day, Tristan's idiot teacher must have become confused about the definition of "MOTHER", and incorrectly assumed that it was the same thing as "AUNT".
It wouldn't have pissed me off so much if she had told Tristan to do something special for her to acknowledge her unique role in his life (which, again, is NOT as his mother) but instead she had him make the same exact Happy Mother's Day project for her that he made for me. It wasn't really appropriate, because it said "My mom is as pretty as a _____, as smart as a ______" and some other stuff. Point being, she's not his mom.
Anyway, she decided to pull a really bitchy move by taking a picture of it and posting it on Facebook. So what? I got one too, and I'm his ACTUAL mother. Just because his teacher forced him to make one for you doesn't mean a damn thing so shut UP!
Sorry. I am really working on releasing all my anger and resentment. Sue said that I scored high for hostility on this little assessment she gave me, which surprised me at first, but then I thought about stuff like this. I present a calm and peaceful exterior, but inside I'm tangled knots of seething rage. I'm not angry at EVERYONE -- mostly just Rachel. They've been lying to me and manipulating me this whole time, and of course I know it! That's what makes it the most frustrating, is that I KNEW I was being played by them, but what choice did I have?
I wanted what was best for my son and I felt powerless to do anything else. At the time first grade was due to begin, I was bringing home $600 a month and FOC decided it was appropriate to take $300 of that in child support (even though the amount I am ordered to pay is $170, but I guess they get to double that if you're behind, because...you know....when you've been off work for a while and get behind on child support, you have all this EXTRA money coming out of your ass when you return to the work force...) Anyway, I didn't have a backpack for him, or shoes, or school clothes...NOTHING.
I still remember that day vividly, Tristan and I both standing on Jason and Lisa's porch crying while my brother took him home with him. I was promised repeatedly they would "never dream of taking him", but I always had a sinking feeling that I was in for a big battle. Oh, this is temporary, we want to start a family of our own, taking your son is the last thing we'd ever do, blah blah blah. But I knew. I think they expected that I'd just give up, stop fighting. I think they thought I'd stay with Noe and keep making bad choices. I think they expected this to be EASY -- well, that's just not going to be the case. I have limited means and resources and I have no lawyer, so I may be relatively powerless now, but I'm a great mother and there is no reason on Goddess' green earth that my son shouldn't come back home. If they get custody, it's only a matter of time before I get a lawyer and come back with a vengeance.
So, yeah, I got off track (surprise). But you can understand how I was really, really, REALLY tempted to take a picture of that letter that said he wishes he could live with me and post it for the whole world to see. But the thing is, she loves to provoke me until I react and then call ME the bitch for reacting. If I lower myself to the same level of bullshit she engages in, I'm no better than her. And besides, all she would see or understand would be my behavior, never making the connection to her own.
She loves to make these scathing comments -- like when she said "your son" in quotes as if he isn't REALLY my son, as if living with them for less than two years magically alters his parentage. She knew that would piss me off, and when it did and I lashed out back at her, all of a sudden she's pointing fingers because I'm "emotionally unstable". I swear, arguing with her is just like it was to argue with Noe. She twists around everything you say and makes statements that are baseless and completely untrue just because she knows they'll irritate me. Do I want someone as crazy as SHE is raising my son? Good GOD!
I think it's hilarious that they have issues with my son lying and they act like they're in a position to punish him for it or correct his behavior...look at the behavior you're modeling! She lies so much, and I really wonder if she thinks anyone believes her. For this camping thing at Tristan's school, he told me about it, but there were no papers in his folder. So I texted Rachel and asked where the rest of his papers were, she said his homework was at her house and never mentioned the camping trip. Tristan said his teacher had sent home papers about it and that Rachel was going. So then I told Rachel I was planning on coming to the camping thing at his school and she pretended she didn't know anything about it and asked ME if I knew what time everything was happening. So then point blank I called her out and told her that Tristan had told me that his teacher had sent home papers and that she had already seen them. Shit like that, all the time. I'll try to call him and she'll text me back after he's in bed claiming that her phone had been dead. Once I tried to call at 7:30, left a message, texted, called my BROTHER at 8, then Facebooked her and she tried to tell me he had gone to bed at 7:30. I guess because she's such an idiot, she must assume I am too.
Oooh. Anger. I didn't even mean to go down this path, and now I'm dredging up all KINDS of hostility. *deep breath* Sue says everyone is doing the best they can. It's hard for me to accept that, that everyone does the best they can from their level of consciousness. But when I consider my own behavior throughout my entire life, I find that to be true. So, as hard as it is, I must accept this as the case for everyone I encounter, even those who frustrate me. But what about people who do evil things?
Juliea says monsters are made, not born. The child molester, the rapist, the serial killer -- something happened in their life, okay, maybe they had a bad childhood. I can't tell you how many men I've dated who had dysfunctional or non-existent relationships with their mothers, or even who had been abused by their mothers. Does this mean, though, that they are doing the best THEY can from THEIR level of consciousness? What does it take to reach a person like that? If they're doing the best they can, what will it take to bring them to a level of consciousness from which they can do better? The initiative, I believe, must come from within. Are some, though, so far gone that the little voice inside can no longer be heard?
Disturbing things I'd rather not ponder. Yesterday, I was driving home at about 2:30 in the morning and I was going around a curve on the highway. I was just getting ready to light a cigarette and was in the middle lane, coming up on the person in the right line about to pass them. I was about 10 feet behind them and I saw them drift toward the wall on the outer edge of their lane. I slowed down, they were dangerously close. I wondered what would happen, but I never imagined what I saw next. All of a sudden, the car flipped, and flipped, and skidded. It was surreal, like it was happening in slow motion. It came to a rest, upside down, and I fumbled with my phone to call 911. I couldn't unlock my phone so I pulled over and put on my hazards.
The road was empty and I was scared -- was it my responsibility to go check on them, to see if they were okay? What if they weren't? What if they were trapped in the car? How would I get them out? I called 911 and just sat there, immobilized. When I saw a motorcyclist stop to assist, I left. I looked up the news article today to see if they were okay, and it was just one man, a drunk driver. He's in jail now. I'm just glad I was in the process of lighting a cigarette, because if I HAD passed them, I might have been caught up in that mess. Or not. I don't know but it's fun to say that smoking may have saved my life ;)
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