First of all... sorry I suck and haven't blogged.  I really am.  It's *hard*, so hard.... to try to raise two kids, do homework, work and go to night school which is Mon - Fri from 6-10 and all day Saturday and then turn around and work all day Sunday.... so, it's been a rough month and I can post more about that later..... but today I want to say this:

Of the *many* things that I have not gotten right as a parent, and of the *many* things that I feel guilty for - the worst of most of them is that I have not put The Boy's photos into an album since he was 6 months old.... and I have NEVER put The Girl's in an album yet.

Or printed them out.
Yes... you read that right.

Sure, sure.... I make the holiday card and I make prints for the walls, but, so far as printing small pictures or putting them into an album.... nope. Nada. Not a ONE.  Sigh.

I have them all.... over 100GB of images saved onto my computer and (almost all) backed up onto an external harddrive... which, in a photographers world is about as 'safe' as dangling a million dollars from a ceiling and over an open flame... eventually:  it's all gonna go up in flames.

So, with all this extra time I have on my hands (you know, because five hours of sleep at night was feeling just a tad too indulgent) - I thought I should start working on the kids photo books so that I can have them printed and not worry so much about losing the images.  I want to make digital books so that I can write comments and stories with certain photos, or certain days -and I found out a long time ago that you can actually download your facebook wall - did you know that?

Well, you can.  You can download you ENTIRE facebook - photos and comments and EVERY SINGLE POST that you ever made, from facebook to your computer.  This is *fanFUCKINGtastic* because I have facebooked every single day since The Girl was born and probably a yearish before that - so that's A LOT of life alllll recorded there in black and white.
facebook for the win.

I have always felt like time and life were slipping through my fingers faster that I would have liked...... I can remember being in London when I was 19 and .... those days were hard.  Really hard.  I was coming to terms with the ..... person my biological father was (I moved there to get to know him and his family) - and I was desperately alone when a month into living with him, I ended up moving out to a hostel in Camden.  I didn't know anyone.... not a single soul (outside of my dysfunctional relationship with my bio-Dad and his family), and I didn't have a single penny to my name.  

Literally. Not one fucking sterling pound or pence.  But I got a job at the McDonalds on the High Street and lived on soup and pasta and free grapes from the grocer outside our flat.  (I had the shits.... A LOT. lol)

I was, emotionally spent and damaged and I was lonely and sad..... so sad.  But, I would stand outside the door to the hostel that was lower than the street level with black wrought iron bars over it's heavily painted blue surface and I would run my hand over the curves of the bars and I would close my eyes and focus on the rounded edges of the cobble stone under my feet and I would just stop. I would stop and breathe in the dank smell of urine and urban life and Camden market and I would think to myself:  I WANT to remember this.  When I'm old and grey and dying... or when I'm a Mom with kids and a life... or where I am in the future:  I want to remember THIS.  This time.  This place.  This MOMENT, so that I don't take it for granted. So that I don't lose the importance and the motherfucking MAGIC of being 19 years old and living in MOTHERFUCKING LONDON.... to the desperate loneliness and sadness that I felt at the time.

After that I would frequently stop - backstage at a show I was working, lying on the top bunk in a tour bus, at a dinner party with friends, walking along Sauciehall Street or Argyle Street or sitting in the tiny wee park in Leicester Square:  close my eyes and just breathe in the moment and *promise* myself not to forget all those little amazing moments that make up our life, but pass by us so quickly at the same time.

When I had The Boy, I thought A LOT about how fast the time was going.  About how life changes and people grow up and grow old and how now.... ALL THOSE TIMES that my Mom would stand in the kitchen and just ask for a hug... and how I would, in all my 16 year old 'coolness', and throw an errant arm around her quickly and then dash out the door to my friends waiting in the honking car:  because I didn't understand..... then.  When you're a teeenager you dont' understand the *journey* your parents have been on to get you to this place - this place where slamming doors and angry words and breaking curfews now fill the place where hugs and kisses and hours of playing together on the floor and tea parties of 'air' once were.....  Because now, as a Mom spoiled with tiny little baby hands that held me and hugged me and held onto me for *dear life*..... I understood that those same hands would grow up and stop holding onto me no matter how hard I wanted to keep my grip on them......
Because that's what kids do.... they grow up.
Man..... kids kind of suck.

So I would just sit and be grateful.
I would hold those baby hands with their sweet dimpled knuckles and trace the fingers as they interlaced with mine.  I would kiss them and smell them and tell my heart and my mind to never forget them......
I would go to bed every night with The Boy's head placed over the top of my arm which would wind down and I would hold his feet in my hands.
Months rolled by and I would keep holding those feet and waiting for the day when those feet grew past my hands and I could no longer hold onto them.
And it came.
But I still cradled him in my arm.... every single night until The Girl was born.

Now the reality of that 'Hallmark' moment is that, more often than not, I woke up soaked in spit up or pee..... but, as I looked over my facebook wall...... I would post all the time - how I had woken up to a smiling giggling baby and a bed with a 'mystery wet spot'.... and how I was so grateful for both because you can't have one with out the other.  

I did SO WELL at finding those little moments to try and train my brain to *never forget* those baby curls and first rolls and first words and first moments and first days of school..... but as the days turn into weeks and months and years... I see a picture of the kids as babies and I'm instantly aware of how much I DON'T remember.
Sigh.

I have blogged before about my Goodwill Christmas.... and I am so grateful NOW that I didn't waste that year being angry that we didn't have enough money to buy fancy stuff... I just focused on making it as good as I could and being happy with what we had..... and how that turned out to be one of the only Christmas's that The Girl would have with both her parents sitting under the tree together and how NOW... it was so much about being happy and 'making do'.... NOW that Christmas has such a larger meaning for the children.
A meaning and an importance I could have never planned for or seen coming......

So.

Today's Blog is a challenge for you.

If you're anything like me.... you're running around, plying the kids with movies and cookies to stay in the living room so you can keep cooking.
You're knee deep in Comet cleaner and sweating your ass off because it seems like the more you clean - the bigger the mess everyone else in the house is CURRENTLY making... rendering your sweating/cleaning nearly useless.....
You're dashing out to stores and counting pennies and wondering how many deals you can snake on Black Friday..... 
And.... if you're *really* like me at all... then you're raising your voice and sending overly excited children who are brimming with joy and teeming with anticipation for the holidays which is boiling over and getting the way of you GETTING THINGS DONE.... dammit.... to their rooms, or time out..... because in family and the in-laws and the neighbors or a co-worker are allllll coming over and by fucking GAWD you want to have one of the most, bestest Pintrestest Thanksgivings on the damn planet...... because that's what we've sold ourselves.

Images of Moms in tightly fitted sweaters and pearls and hair swept up with an apron tied at the waist.... and a husband who lights candles and carves the turkey and crazy relatives bringing nasty things like marshmallow jello molds.... 

Run less.
Yell less.
Threaten time out.... less.

May be even cook less..... certainly, if you're stressed out and freaking out and brandishing wooden spoons covered in batter as weapons to small children running through the living room.... don't worry about making those cute cupcakes that look like turkey's with the nutter-butter shoved through the middle.

Just.... fuck it.
Make regular old cupcakes.... if time is getting away from you and you're losing those moments that MATTER to bullshit and picture-perfect standards that don't matter..... just let yourself stop.

The truth is, this could be your last something..... 
May be this will turn into the last Thanksgiving you had before so-and-so got diagnosed with Cancer.... or someone died in a tragic accident.... may be it'll be the last year your Grandparents are here with you, or may be your kid is going off to college and NEXT YEAR, he'll be going to his girlfriend/boyfriends house on the East Coast..... aliens could invade the planet, pillage your home and we could all be living underground wondering if John Carter is *really* coming.... or, may be your husband will run off with a 22 year old..... who the fuck knows.

May be it's the last Thanksgiving of YOUR marriage.... 

If that's the case, and some kind of life changing event happens .... trust me.... FUCKING TRUST ME.... those Pintrest Turkey cupcakes will be the LAST thing you remember... but probably the thing you spent the most time on.... so don't do it.

Don't waste time you could spending holding your own Grandmother's hand, tracing the wrinkles between her fingers and listening to stories about USO dances and the war and living life on a budget..... just so that you can make sure the bathroom is cleaner.
Anyone who cares that you're toilet isn't 'clean enough' but it coming over for Thanksgiving dinner.... isn't really your friend.... just sayin.

Don't spend your time rushing and yelling and being annoyed that your husband isn't 'doing enough' to help you - because all he wants to do is sit and watch the game and enjoy the day and you want to get out the fancy holiday dishes and you forgot they were buried in the attic and now he has to climb up there and spend the afternoon digging them out..... fuck it:  eat on paper plates.  Just, eat together.
That's all that really matters.... just being together.

GIVE YOURSELF THE GIFT OF SAYING.... fuck it.

Cook your dinner and spend time with your family and give yourself countless chances to STOP and close your eyes and take it all in..... the smell of turkey juice burning on the oven floor, the feel of flour between your fingers, the sound - THE GLORIOUS FUCKING SOUND - of your children fighting in the living room because your son DOES NOT want to watch Sophia The First for the hundredth time that day..... 

Because whatever happens down the road..... you'll remember that day, that time, when you *were* altogether, in your dysfunction and not-as-clean-as-you-want-it-to-be-house.... and even if it feels like it wasn't 'perfect' in that moment and at that time.... life could re-define for you what perfect is and you might just remember that day and that time as the most whole, perfect moment of your life..... burning rolls, fighting kids, lazy husband and all....... 

Tomorrow I'll be waking up to the woman I love.
Writing Thankful notes to the kids on the bathroom mirror.
We might shower... we might not.  I might brush their hair... well... probably I'll brush their hair.
We're having cereal and milk and then dashing out the door to use a GROUPON a client gave me to take the kids to see FROZEN... where we will eat shared popcorn out of our dollar store popcorn buckets, and drink water bottles I bought at Walmart and tucked into the band of my jeans and snuck into the theater.  
I will be GRATEFUL when we sit Boy - Hail Mary - Girl - Me  - because everyone rights over who gets to sit next to Hail Mary and not me... lol.  
I will give The Girl the matching doll to the movie that I bought with a Toys R Us card that a client 'paid' me with... so she can hold the doll while watching the movie.
Then we will take the kids to El Capitan's house for a few hours while Hail Mary and I get to spend some time together.... then we will go to The Bubbie and The Papa's house.... and I'm not going to stress out about what time we get there and what we're wearing and what we're bringing and blah blah blah.......
I'm going to stop as many times as I want and just take in the voices and the sounds and the smell of the day... and just be Thankful for what I have and grateful for the people in my life.
I hope you do, too.


Happy Thanksgiving.

Alrighty then.......

So I got this comment today:

last year I wrote to you and expressed some feelings to you---you blasted me but its ok----I told you you were wrong in pushing a relationship with the ow and el capitan,neither has the maturity for a relationship never mind parenting--people who lie and cheat have no morals or compassion---he really acted so mean to you and to abandon 2 kids is unforgivable-------I also said that she was afraid of the crazy wife as he im sure described you to her----he placated you all the time and you fell for it---he made sure you never gave out their identity and information about the affair,he was sure you would protect his ass-----YOU ALWAYS GAVE HIM A PASS<ALWAYS_----HE WAS LIKE YOUR 3 CHILD THE ONE YOU NEEDED TO PROTECT----I told you that the incident in the car with your son was going to be a problem emotionally for your son later on in life---this is the time the jerk did not want your son to go up to his hotel room,yelled at him,scared the shit out of him and all your son did was cry and cry and the jerk left your son out there crying --what a jerk he is----I also described to you how the ow abused my children---SOFTLY,SHE KILLED THEIR SPIRIT SOFTLY----no one saw it only my kids----they are still in therapy and the scars are deep---my fault because I wanted them to be with their father,little did I know that he never paid attention to them and she was doing her THING,SHE WAS KILLING MY KIDS SOFTLY----I will never forgive myself---I should have never insisted in the being together ----my children eventually refused to go see their father and he blamed me for it----my children have no contact with him as stipulated by the court and psychologist----you can imagine what my children have said behind closed doors and I will never know----we are happy alone just the 5 of us and I am enough for them---I have told them this is it this is what life has given us and we deal with it,no fantasies about "family"--WE ARE FAMILY,JUSY US---el capitan controls you emotionally he only tells you whay he knows you want to hear---he is not honest remember he is a cheater,he knows how to play the game,but he is not your friend or a partner in co parenting---he is just playing you---he always protectedla novia from you and he is still doing it---ELLE PLEASE WAKE UP AND SAVE YOUR CHILDREN FROM EMOTIONAL ABUSE___your son is already asking you to save him and you need to listen to him,dad yells and curses at us WHAT MORE DO YOU NEED_____I MISSED THE SIGNS,PLEASE SAVE YOUR CHILDREN AND GET THEM AWAY FROM THOSE TWO LOW LIFE ANIMALS__if he wants to see them then he sees them in your home----THEY DO NOT WANT YOU IN THEIR LIVES SO WHY DO YOU INSIST___HIDING IN THE BATHROOM___AND OF COURSE THE CHEATER GOES ALONG WITH IT___HE IS PROBABLY THE ONE TELLING HER TO DO IT____WAKE UP----AND WE ALL AGREE IT IS TIME TO POST TGEIR PICTURES<NAMES AND ALL ABOUT THR BETRAYAL____THEY ARE THE BAD GUYS NOT YOU____BUT YOU DO KNOW THAT THEY WILL SMEAR YOUR NAME AS THEY ARE DOING NOW--STOP TELLING THAT CHEATER ABOUT YOUR LIFE AND YOUR SECRETS___CUT TIES WITH HIM___YOU NEED TO LET GO OF HIM____YOU HAVE NOT__STOP TALKING TO HIM ONLY YOUR KIDS HAVE TO TALK TO HIM TELL HIM TO SEND YOU E_MAILS- STOP TRYING TO BE MISS GOODY TWO SHOES___BE THE BITCH THAT YOU ARE___YOU ARE WOMAN AN AWESOME CREATURE

**************************************************

I do remember the comment made last year (not quite last year, but I think perhaps last April?) - and I *did* try to use the search feature on the website to find the original comment that she made that she references, but I couldn't find it..... but if memory serves - Jules warning me *against* trying for La Novia to have a relationship with/meet the kids.... and yes, I believe that I totally disagreed with her - to the point where I believe that my point was that *if* I as kind enough and open enough and forgiving enough.... that *we* would all come through this - together somehow.  Or, perhaps not 'together'.... but functional as a new 'family set-up' for the kids.

Well.... clearly:  I was wrong.

I was wrong and Jules was/is right.

The reality is, however, regardless of what does or does not go on at their Dad's house - the children will have to go to their Dad's as per our custody agreement.  Period.  I would have to have mounds and mounds of 'proof' of wrong doing/neglect/etc... and at the end of the day - cursing and being an ass to your kids is not reason enough for a court to remove or reduce a parents visitation.

Fuck.... if we're talking about cursing - I'm in trouble. lol... mind you - I don't really curse *at* my kids - though.... and it *pains* me to admit this, but since The Boy has been bringing up how often and how much El Capitan curses at/around them - it's caused an automatic reduction in the amount that I do it.

We even have a curse jar.
Yup.... I said it.  A curse jar.
Thankfully that jar doesn't have eyes and I can still write whatever I want on The Blog.

*This* week, however..... The Boy AND The Girl have both been saying cryptic things and about how "Daddy doesn't do that" or "Daddy doesn't do this......." - and upon a little of asking (ASKING not prodding) - The Girl told us that Daddy told them not to "tell Mommy when he uses naughty words".

This comes directly *after* I waited several rough visits to mention to him that a few 'things' probably needed to change between him and the kids..... and it got me that. 
Awesome.
Sigh.

So yes.... JULES.  You are/were right.
I will no longer 'encourage' anything..... if they see La Novia:  cool.  If they don't.... fine.

You hit the nail on the head when you said that I was putting them in harms way.... I totally did that. I send them over there - pumped up with hope and openness and willingness and it's getting slammed in their faces - and El Capitan doesn't GET THAT.... so their behavior takes a serious nose dive and he responds by screaming at them to "go to [their] fucking room"...... 

I've done that.  Me.  And .... *Rest assured* - that I won't be doing that anymore.
Period.

Am I going to "poison" them against anyone?  
Nope.
Am I going to turn their hearts hard and bitter?
Fuck no.
But..... I *AM* going to start being waaaaaay more honest in answers that are *Asked* for.

I'm also going to stop wasting my time.

I've put waaaaaaay too much time and energy into the collective relationships rather than in the ones in *THIS* house..... I've quire literally been drowning in the tsunami of anger and denial and waves of hope and trying and .... and .... and.... it's all for nothing.  

It's time for me to focus 100% on ME and them.
On the two of them together as siblings..... and on the four of US as a family.... 

La Novia's family is *her* problem.... and my kids are clearly not apart of that.  Melissa commented that it was a bit unfair for me to want to 'take over' La Novia's holiday - which I actually think is a totally valid point.
However, invitations to dinner were turned down for selfish/stupid/douchey reasons - NOT because she's looking forward to donning an apron and cracking eggs for stuffing with The Girl in her own kitchen.... THAT I coudl totally respect.  (and... had actually hoped for).

Instead.... there are no more trips to the zoo.  No more craft days or afternoons spent coloring.... it's swimming and the park and yelling and them "not behaving" and yelling and fighting and the kids living in a place where they are made to feel like guests.... how do I know this?

I wrote months ago about how La Novia was putting together a "behavior chart" for their place and I asked for a copy of the same "rules" at my house to support the whole thing.... I never got my copy.
Shocker.

Anyhow.... rule number two is "Five when people arrive."
Which means.... when *anyone* comes into that house - the children are supposed to give them five minutes to collect themselves and relax before the children "jump all over" them (El Capitan' words) - or talk to them etc...... which is bullshit.

The good PARENT looks forward to that moment when they walk in the door from a day at work and their kids come running up to them with the joy and excitement that only children have.... and yammer on about the day and want hugs..... 

Note:  I said *PARENTS*...... sadly - it's clear that my children don't have 'parents' in their Father's home, they have 'roommates'..... and that sucks.

They are not the center of that home... they are annoying little guests who run too much, yell too loud (it's an apartment, El Capitan reminds me!), who doesn't listen and knock over wine glasses left by the couch and throw balls onto glass candle holders that break and they just need to "chill out".... and give these 'adults' "Five when people arrive"......

Fine.
But when we start telling the children that a 'sock on the door means don't come in'..... I think I'll be done sending them over for that.   just sayin'.

In my home.... IN THEIR HOME.... my children yell and fight and run up the stairs when they aren't supposed to... they talk back and jump alllll over *whoever* walks in our front door... and so they should.  They are children.  This is a family and this is a FAMILY HOME... I expect nothing else from them, and when they need to disciplined, there are boundaries and reasons and explanations - and love.... lots of love.  But overall, they know they belong here.
Sigh.

Most people lose their temper.... lose their *shit* - and then regret it.  Most people.

The thing about me is that I have *always* been who I am.... I have feelings and opinions and ideas and (if you know me) then you know it's *very* hard for me to keep those to myself on the best of days... but if I'm angry????  It's like a tsunami of anger that overwhelms and takes out whatever person/object/space is around me.  It's not a violent thing.... but, truth be told:  I can say things that'll make your ears bleed for days.
Almost literally.

I do, in fact, have a way of cutting you down with my tongue in a manner that - while often comedic - is *always* brutally truthful.  It's been the demise of several relationships in my time AND - oh yes.... AND - is something I have sought to change/curtail/end as I get older.  

As the years trickle by I have tried, sometimes in utter vain, to stop and *think* before I unleash the winds and rain.  I have, to some people's surprise, tried to damn the tide of verbal anger before it takes out relationships with people I love.  

Tried.
Sometimes.
In vain.....
But tried all the same.

Looking back at my marriage with Drew, (from The Book), there were *clear* issue's that his parents had that affected our marriage.  There were clear issue's that Drew had - and issue's that *I* had.... and then there was my amazing ability to handle situations with his parents with the kind of tact that an elephant with a tack in her foot posses.... ie: none.
None at all.

However, sometimes you look back at a whole situation and if there are moments and times and conversations and words said, not under your breath - but broadcast as though a megaphone were strapped to your face.... and you shudder a bit.  Even though it's in the past and those days and moments and that anger is smoke from the book of your life on a fire.... just floating away..... *if* that still makes you shudder.... then you would be wise to listen to that instinct and *change* that behavior.

Truth be told, I don't shudder about my past or behavior nearly as much as some people might think I should.... but I can *Assure* you that I shudder faaaaaaar more than people realize because I *AM* someone who does endeavor to take ownership of not only actions, but mostly my words - AND - not only do I want to *OWN* them, but if I decide they were 'wrong' - then I strive to *change* them.

I really really really really do.
Pinky promise.

Embarking on this process, I was *deFUCKINGtermined* to have as many 'shudder free' moments as I possibly, possibly could.... keeping in mind that a person who has just had their entire life ripped out from under them and placed firmly beneath the buxom buttocks of another woman... well:  she's going to lose her shit from time to time and it's not gonna' be pretty.......  Having said that - I *TRIED* not to use that as an excuse to machine gun every fucker that came in my path with a verbal assault that would make Lisa Lampanelli cringe.  (look her up.... she's brilliant.)

I thought *a lot* about my post the other day.... did you notice the grammar was almost pretty decent?  That's because I actually read that one through several times before hitting send.... I usually write, hit send, go to bed. lololol :)

This time, though, I thought about what I wanted to say - what I wanted to share.... and then I shared.  I thought about what the consequences might be for me, for the kids... for El Capitan, etc..... and I decided that - in spite of what some people think/assume/accuse me of - I *HAVE* actually made EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. CHOICE for the last 18 months - for the sole benefit of the kids (or at least what I *hoped* would be for their benefit).  I put myself aside - and not in some kind of Christ-like way so that I can build a cross of good deeds and 'sacrifices' and hoist myself up on it and say.... "look at me world- look at the fantastic person I am to make such lofty sacrifices"......

In the first place.... I'm not all that fantastic, nor have I ever thought I was, frankly, if I'd had better self-esteem I would have never married El Capitan in the first place.... just sayin'.

Secondly - I really *didn't* give a shit about his stuff, my stuff - having to do it all alone - because I had grown sooooo  accustomed to doing everything alone that *not* having him there to pack up his own shit, etc... well, that was something I would have expected anyway.  No biggie.

Thirdly, I *really* did believe that if I created a safe space for La Novia to step into - free of blame or shame or whatever.... but a true, welcoming space - and that THAT would be enough for her to step up and *be* apart of my childrens lives..... 

But.  That safe space was filled by suspicion and .... resentment?  Entitlement?  Fear?

I don't really know.... but it stayed void of a person.  
And my children *feel* that void.

Since I wrote my post I've been thinking about the last 18 months and the TWO conversations I ever had with La Novia - ok ... three - one text, two on the phone.  And I never called her names.  I was actually *fairly* pleasant.... and yet that .... person.... seems to think I should have been nicer?

That's like telling the Jews to thank Hitler for the shower.
Yeah.  I said it.  Suck it.

You fuck your way into this family and then you turn up your nose at the *chance* to co-parent two of the most amazing beings in the world..... (according to me, of course). :)  I just don't get it .... I really don't.

I go over and over in my mind - everything I said, I re-read posts and parts of The Book and there are times where I am as much her protector - worrying about her - about what El Capitan was *saying* about her - as  I am just emotionally decimated by what she's done and her total lack of empathy or regret.

I have actually spent some time wondering if she's on the spectrum... that kind of person who *lacks* any kind of social awareness or personal responsibility is a special person in deed..... Dexter style.  No - I'm being serious - there are HUNDREDS of stories out there about these women who feel so entitled to another person's spouse that they go and kill people.... now - I'm NOT saying anyone was going to kill anyone... but that level of 'I don't give a shit'..... THAT is a worrying quality in a person.

That's the thing.... SINCE DAY FUCKING ONE.  La Novia hasn't cared.  She didn't care that he was married.  She didn't care that I would get hurt.  She didn't care that my children would get hurt.... she felt no shame, no regret - there have never been any apologies or ownership.... she has always acted as though *I* were in the way of them being together.

She has, in my humble opinion (and others), felt as though I was the problem here - not her.

There is *one* thing, that she said, that rings in my ears.......

If took me MONTHS to get El Capitan to sit down with me and La Novia.  EVEN THOUGH the need for that 'sit down' is clearly spelled out in our divorce papers.... he dodged and dodged me.

Over and over, I would ask. I would tell him that the kids were asking about her and wanted to meet her... etc.  That the counselor felt it was time and that *not* having met her was having a negative affect on them.... but he would say no.

At the time - El Capitan would say, "I'm not sure that that's where this relationships is headed".  And imply that he didn't want her interacting with the kids that way.   Which I thought was odd..... 

When we *finally* sat down together I was KIND - SO FUCKING KIND - and I damn well meant it.  I was - because I'm really fucking stupid - EXCITED about this step because I thought it was best for the kids and that a LIFETIME of losing my temper and whatever..... wasn't going to happen.  It hadn't really happened thus far - that I could steer us all to a place of friendship and co-parenting and that fruits of my labor - the product of my 'sacrifices' would be a happier family for the children.
BooFuckingYah.

Wrong.

I sat at the table.
I read the letter - heartfelt and clear.  No anger or animosity from my side of the table.
I was kind and smiled and was encouraging of her.....
I was - until my post Monday - totally genuine.

And she said very little.  BUT.  One thing she said that rings in my ears was this......"Well, thank you -I'm just so surprised that you can be so amicable."

Huh.......?  I just read you an entire letter.
I *insisted* on you having a chance to have a relationship with my children.
I welcomed you into the family.

What the motherFUCK isn't 'amicable' about that?

What more am I supposed to do.... give you hand a job and a smoke?
I might be into girls... but needless to say:  I have much higher standards so that ain't gonna happen.

So I've come to the realization that El Capitan must tell her things ..... he must paint pictures for her that lead to her to a place where she can't image me to be 'amicable'.

Dr. Drew thought was I was waaaaay too nice and amicable.
So did the entire View.
So did my friends.
So did The Bubbie and The Papa ... who were 'shocked' that El Capitan left with his nuts in tact.  (He didn't though... those have been in a proverbial jar for nearly 11 years..... bwahahahahaha).

Point being - if this was an 'act' or an illusion or not genuine - I'm NOT the kind of person who can fake anything other than an orgasm during straight sex.
Period.

But there comes a point where the tsunami, when not let out.... swarms and starts to drown you.... and I'll be honest:  I was fucking tired of treading my own water and drowning every night.

So.... I don't regret it.  If it makes me shudder... I'll deal with that - like I already have to deal with everything else that has come from all of this.... but let us not forget that *none* of this - The Sign, The Book, The Blog would have *ever* happened without El Capitan fucking La Novia on her green comforter and then dragging the sweat and the sweet stench home to me.  

Even now.... I've come to realize that it's something I can move past - but it's nothing I'll ever forget.

Comment from yesterday:

It's crazy how many people are still checking back every day - and yet.... no new blog from me.  Anyone who *knows* me in my 'real life' - in the flesh, in person..... they know that it's really hard for me to lie about... anything.  If I'm mad - you'll know it.  If I'm sad... you'll know it.  I quite literally wear my emotions on my face and in my heart and in my words.... it's hard for me to just 'put on a happy face.'

Now, bear with me... and fuck - is it 'bear' or 'bare'?  I know it's a homophone - I should just look it up but today fucking sux and I can't be arsed to do it.... so just deal with it Grammar Police.  Ok.... 'bear' with me - because I know that *some* people have hard a time with that concept because of my sexuality and my attempt to live for sooooo long as a straight woman - certainly that was lying?  Yes.... but the truth is - I was lying first and foremost to myself, so in spending 37 years forcing myself to believe in something doesn't make me a liar to the rest of the world, it makes me one of the millions and millions of people who don't think they wanted to "be gay" - AND.... for the record - it's also in large part due to a society that tells you that being gay is a "choice" - so I'm not really a 'liar' just because I chose to be straight.

That aside... the reality is that since I started this Blog, I haven't lied about anything.  It's true to say that anyone's "truth" is strongly rooted in their perception of an event or conversation or situation and as such, other people might have a different perception/truth about things, but that doesn't negate anyone's 'truth'.

I have tried, with the exception of delaying coming out on The Blog, to be as brutally honest as possible, because I'm the kind of person who really doesn't know how to be anything else..... which is why it's been hard to blog lately because I can't come here and lie.  I can't come here and say - 'everything is great.....', when it's not.

I read so many books...I tried so hard and the truth is that I *tried* because I looked back on the living room of ten years of marriage and, for the most, underneath cream walls of photos of happy kids and a 'happy family' - lay the proverbial rug which had dozens and dozens of lumps in every direction where I had been shoving things for a looooooong time.

That time I found pot in a old film canister in the sock drawer and was told "some guy pulled over on a street corner and handed it to me... what was I supposed to do?":  swept under the carpet.
That time Christmas came and went and all I got was a Snoop Dogg CD in my stalking.... under the carpet.
That time we were leaving for the hospital to have our son and you were yelling me because I wasn't 'talking nice enough to you'.... under the carpet.
That time.... *all* those times... that I kept saying if you didn't go to counseling and *we* didn't go to counseling that our marriage would end in divorce..... under the carpet. No appointments made.
That time that your stepmother waited until *after* your Mother's Grandfather died after your Aunt called them to relay the message to us to get the hospital to 'say goodbye'.... she waited 6 hours to call us and we didn't make it to the hospital and because of that your mother's *entire* family thought we didn't care enough to go say goodbye and never forgave us..... and so I called The StepMother and informed her that she was, indeed, "a cunt of a rare kind" and that she was also an "adulterer - and since I hold my friends to a higher standard - we would never be friends.......". .... that too... went under the carpet.

We would have a argument.... and then we would make up and sweep everyone's discretion's under the carpet and not talk about them again.... mine, his.... everyone's.  I knew it was wrong at the time - that eventually we'd be tripping over those 'lumps in the carpet' - but I always assumed that after 7, 8, 9 ... 10 years - that we were in it for the long haul and that we had *time* to work things out and move on.

Everyone does it - and we had some *big* things under the carpet and some small things... but overall - we were *happy*... fuck, may be we weren't.... it was news to me and our friends and our family... but clearly *we* were not happy... because suddenly I was tripping over a 22 year old under my carpet.

I can own that. I can, in spite of what some people think, look back at ten years of sweeping and own my part and because I was wiling to do that.... and I thought that in this whole divorce process that I would DO IT RIGHT.

I would read books and get advice... *good* advice - from people who paid lots of money and went to school and got degree's..... that I would follow their advice, no matter *how* hard, no matter how much shit I got from other people....I would take the high road and make different choices.

Now..... is Ugly Baby Teeth - *Really* taking the high road.......?
Probably not.

However, for fucks sake.... if the *worst* thing I *ever* did to the woman who had SEX WITH MY HUSBAND while he was *still* my husband - was call her "ugly baby teeth".... well.... fuck, I think that makes me a pretty nice person.  I could be wrong.... feel free to correct me.

I *meant* what I said when I wrote the family letter and made the binder......
I *wanted* soooo badly for everyone to be adults and stand together on the sidelines of a soccer game, all wearing our big-girl panties and happy smiles - cheering on the success's of *our* children.
I was *willing* to share the role and the moniker of 'mom' with someone who stole SO MUCH OF WHAT I FUCKING WAS.... because it was going to be what was best for my children.

Everyone who *knows* me knows that I don't just say I'm going to do something.... if I've done it - then I meant it.  I don't fuck around... I don't lie.  If I said we can all move on... then I can,
Notice the *I*?

I haven't blogged in weeks because I'm fucking pissed.
There I said it.

I'm fucking pissed that I read the books and *Said* and *DID* all the "right" things......

I walked away from money.... 
I walked away from my home.....
I lost everything.... and, for the most part.... I did it with a smile and with hope in my heart that in doing it all the "right way" - that it would pay off for the kids - that where I had failed them as a Mother, where *we* had failed them as parents - that *WE* could all come together in the end and BE A FUCKING FAMILY.

Two happy homes from one broken one.

I was wrong.
I protected her and I protected him.... I kept the dirty little secret that they worked together.... so they wouldn't get fired.
I protected her name so that while *I* would forever go down in flame as the fat-ass whose husband left her for a 22 year old because she was so ugly and bitter and 'vengeful' that she then "plotted an online campaign" to blah blah blah blah..... SHE would be safely away from it all.  Her identity - her collective 'dignity' in tact (assuming she has any.....) - and SHE:  Ugly Baby Teeth, Yoga Girl.... La Novia - would be safe.  I did that because I felt it was the right thing to do..... now, I'm not so fucking sure.

The Boy say's that life at Daddy's house is "hard" .... that Daddy screams at them, and uses foul language  and isn't "nice to them"...... La Novia doesn't spend any time the kids.  

At. All.

She's usually "at work" - no matter what day of the week or the time of day.... back when this started, they went to the Zoo one time - and haven't done a damn thing since.  There are no more craft or coloring projects.... they go there, spend time with their Dad and come back.

That's not a family.
When I was told that he wouldn't be seeing the kids over Thanksgiving - because of work schedule issue's, I suggested we *all* have a family dinner together..... and was told no.

He thought it might be "awkward......."
No shit.... huh?  IT's *always* going to be awkward if that's your attitude.

And someone for the love of FUCK - PLEASE tell me *how* this is awkward for anyone......?

I have protected you.
I have been KIND to BOTH OF YOU.
I have NOT called people names.
I have NOT threatened anyone.
I didn't burn anyones stuff.... I didn't lose my shit and go crazy.

SERIOUSLY.  DOES NO ONE WATCH TV?????????
Does no one watch Jerry Springer........?  I think -overall - I have extended a shit ton of kindness and fucking *forgiveness* to people who DID NOT DESERVE IT and I did it for 'realsies' - because THAT IS WHO I AM.

Anyone who *knows* me, knows that I don't do things half way.

I *welcomed* someone into MY FAMILY after they fucked their way into it.... and I'm not good enough to have dinner with?  Because THAT - the whole EATING AT THE SAME TABLE thing is awkward......?
Yeah... well, smelling your sweet snatch on his cock was awkward... but look at me all getting over that and shit.
 
Yet...... You can't get over yourself enough to have dinner?
Really?

I could and I *DID* because I believed it was what was best for my children.... but it's becoming painfully clear to me that the *only* person who is concerned with a) the children and b) having some kind of positive relationship modeled for them is ME.  

The Boy's behavior has been suffering.... a lot.  The light that used to light his eyes has been dimming - and replaced with him telling me "I just gave that car the finger for going too slow like Daddy does......".  Or, screaming at this sister who accidentally broke a toy..... "Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!?!"

Daddy refers to everything in his house as ... 'his' - not ours.... this is "his house" - he tells them.... which means that it's not "their" house... they are just guests.  The Boy told me that.

And 18 months on... it's clear that in spite of all my efforts to the contrary - the children are merely guests in a home that doesn't actually want them to be *a part* of anything.... some people are *stupid* enough to think that this kind of thing doesn't matter to kids... but it does.  It really does.

I've been begging The Boy to behave and changing house rules and talking and talking.... and reading and trying... but it seems like everyday the light get a little bit dimmer.... and I fear, that's it's going to go out altogether.

Recently, there's this charming little brat at The Boy's school who delights in being mean to him, recently she cut in front of him in line and said, "I don't like you because I hate your face."

I asked The Boy what he did, and he said he just shrugged his shoulders and walked away and said nothing.  I praised him on his ability to walk away from a negative situation and we went and talked to his teacher (who is nothing short of amazing.....) - and she also praised him for 'doing the right thing and walking away' - and that she would address that situation.  

This weekend, after spending the night at their Dad's - The Boy came home and told me that his DAD told him that the next time someone tells him that they "hate his face", that THE BOY should say right back to that person..... "Well, I hate your face."

Super fucking awesome shitty advice.
Rad.

After months of dodging me..... being 'in the bathroom' or 'at work' - and never having to actually be in the same room as me..... we were heading home last night and The Boy *really* wanted to call his Dad and tell him about his "last shift" at the Spirit store.  I let him call and he asked his Dad if we could stop by.
Which we did.

And then we stood.... out in the cold..... in the soft drizzle of rain..... we stood.  outFUCKINGside.
While La Novia sat inside.

After everything..... I stood outside.  unwelcome.  I get it..... it wasn't pre-planned, and it's unfair to think we should be asked inside... but then, why not come outside?  

I'm tired.
I'm tired of trying and failing.
I'm tired of other people's lies and bullshit.
I'm tired of believing that I could do this.... that I could offer up enough forgiveness and kindness and that *that* would be what could help bind together this new family that I'll be *Really* honest.... I want NO FUCKING PART of.

No fucking part at all.

I just wanted my kids to be happy and whole..... that's all.
But.... they're not and every passing day I wonder if that's ever going to happen.
and I'm not.....  I'll never be whole again, especially while the kids are hurting.

So today I'm going to take the advice of someone I listened to and loved and worked soooo hard to build a family *with*.... and I'm going to put down the books and olive branches and I'm just gonna say it:

I fucking hate your face.

If you mistakenly thought *anything* was awkward before.... well.... good luck with that.